veterans scooter show

he is asleep when i get on the bus. it is not terribly crowded but i am still standing by him awhile before i notice him. well, at first i do not notice him at all. i notice the palm trees. and the soldiers. small men in camouflage posed variously with weapons. there is an olive drab helicopter hovering above them, secured there with a slender stick. there is an american flag waving over the whole scene. this is world war two. i know because i recognize world war two when i see it but also because the platform is labeled. world war two. the platform the soldiers stand and crouch on is open in the center and the trunk of a very large elephant pokes up though it, the tip of the trunk resting near a small metal bell. the elephant itself is below the platform, painted black. it is wearing a blanket of some sort, the kind of thing folks in circuses drape over elephants before they put those seats on them. the blanket says "veterans scooter show is the greatest show on earth". indeed.

now would be a good time to explain this whole contraption, the elephant with world war two hovering above and around its trunk, is in front of and between the handlebars of a scooter, the sort folks use when they have a tough time getting around but feel that wheelchairs might cramp their style. a scooter is, well, sassy to some. this scooter is maroon and sits across from the back door of the bus against the folded up seats hinged for just this sort of thing. there are seatbelts on the floor of the bus to lash wheelchairs into something like stability during the ride but this scooter is not fastened down. it would probably be foolish to try to contain the thing in that manner anyway.

it is plastered with important information. a black and white photo of fdr, photocopied over a few times to graininess, when he was younger, handsomish, firm-jawed and waiting, with the look of a man who can lead people into or out of anything. next to him on the same sheet of paper are the words "we fear no one. the only thing we have to fear is fear itself". the whole thing together has some sort of plastic coating, not quite shrinkwrap but not lamination, either. under roosevelt is a red, white and blue poster with a muscular ship plowing through waves, proclaiming "the u.s. navy is looking for you". a hand points out of the image at me just in case i'm not sure who it's talking to. i worry about the navy if this is true.

"i have a dream" spreads across the right curve of the back bumper. the center of the bumper thanks patton for his courage and bravery. the back of the seat has, among other things, a photo of nimitz. the admiral, not the ship. he is labeled. everything is labeled. there is a navy man bumper sticker nearby. hanging from the right front handle bar is a large image of jesus with light coming from inside him, from his heart. he is glowing in the middle of the words "in god we trust". near jesus, attached to the black wicker-plastic basket resting under the elephant, is obama proclaiming "i am the 44th president of the u.s."

the man on the scooter sleeps with his face down, a hood over his head. he wakes up when the bus lurches to a stop under the f train, looks around, then drops his head back down. i see his face in that quick moment when he opens his eyes. he is not a veteran of world war two. he is plenty old enough to claim most any other exploit but he simply isn't old enough for this. there is no way to know why this man, sleeping on his scooter in the back of an early morning bus, is so chaotically captivated by a time he can't possibly remember. but it is easy to tell that veterans scooter show is the greatest show on earth.