N
a p a l m H e
a l t
h S p
a : R e
p o r
t 2 0
1 2
RICHARD WILMARTH
the
war that never ended
floored
through northern Virginia
with
my car losing power
in
the midst of a rainstorm
and
leaving the wet highway
to
the sound of truck thunder
while
thinking this is the end
rolling
into the station
dim,
grey, lost in a damp fog
almost
accepting defeat
but
getting out of the car
and
opening the bent hood
to
look at the steel engine
to
see nothing wrong at all
but
checking all the fluids
and
even asking the boy
who
was dreamlike and moody
sort
of standing near the pumps
about
the situation
and
he said the fluid’s fine
but
it could be something else
so
he went in the station
and
he got me some cleaner
to
mix with the gasoline
which
i most thankfully did
when
i was pumping the gas
and
it continued raining
then
the boy said straight to me
that
if I had some good luck
my
problems would be over
so
with the boy beside me
i went inside and I
paid
but
just for the gasoline
because
the cleaner was free
and
it was just for the moment
i saw the boy and his
friends
now
gathered around inside
wearing
torn, grey uniforms
saying
they were real sorry
about
my datsun’s window
and
as i opened the door
and
left the eerie station
i started my weary car
and
drove north into the storm
dreaming
of april and the
ghosts
of the confederate dead