Fiction. Humor
In Memory of Pony Dalglish
No better friend was ever had.
I don’t think we get to a stage in life if we’re lucky enough to get into our seventies without learning that a friend is sick or in care.
But strike-a-light, when they told me that Paul ‘Pony’ Dalgleish had been admitted to a home for the mentally unstable, I felt bitter and helpless. Pony, so called because he kept his long gray hair in a ponytail, and I’d never seen him wear it any other way in nearly fifty years.
When I tried to get some idea of the degree of his illness from the staff, they appeared vague. Maybe it’s a privacy thing; I get that. I’m not family; in fact Pony has no family left to help him.
Whatever it was, it seemed enough for them to admit him because he (Pony), they said, didn’t understand consequences anymore, that his immediate reaction to anything was not always wholly unacceptable.
Are they kidding? I thought. Nothing Pony has ever done was acceptable. He’s just that kind of guy. This information was hard to accept, having known the man since we were teenagers, and Pony was the life and soul of any gathering. It’s not that he wasn’t without fault; indeed, he was attracted to trouble and was all the more fun because of it.
I asked the head of staff if I could speak with him, as I had to leave the following day, heading out to the fishing grounds in the Minch. Fishing grounds Pony knew well, having worked for my father most all of his life, becoming a crew member when he was twenty, tough as tough can be imagined, fearless, and a man who drank more than anyone who would be willing to take him on, which is most definitely why he never married.
They told me Pony was busy working in the gardens. So, I asked if I could visit after the weekend. They were okay with this. I felt better.
On Monday morning, I drove down to see him. He was a home for the mentally unstable. I’m sure there’s a politically correct name for these places, but anyway. I drove between the gates and was lucky enough to see Pony working in the gardens. I pulled over and got out. It was one of those beautiful mornings. Pony was working in shirt sleeves rolled up and looked the way I had always known him to look, his silver hair tied back in a ponytail, which is why he got the nickname.
“Hey Pony,” I called out, “what’s going on man?”
“Is that you, young Harry?” He called back.
I’m nearly in my mid-seventies, bless him.
“I don’t know about young anymore, Pony. Hit seventy-four this year. What are you now? Eighty-two, maybe?”
“Aye lad. Tell me, how’s the old man doing?”
I ushered him to the bench and explained that Dad died a year ago.
“He did! Your dad was a good’un, Harry, a real good’un.”
“He was, Pony. He was. Now tell me, what are you doing in here?”
He looked a little lost for a moment. “I think they believe I’m mad, Harry. Crazed, maybe. The doctor put me in here, you know. He said it was for my own good.”
“How do you feel? You seem fine. Any problems?”
“Nae, lad. I’m rosy, diamond even!”
This was the Pony I always knew. “Do you think you should be in here, Pony? You seem perfectly sane to me?”
“I’m an old man, Harry. No one takes any notice of an old man. I tell them all the time, I’m perfect. They’ll not take any notice of me.”
“There has to have been some mistake. I’m going to sort this, and get you out of here,” I told him.
“Really, Harry?”
“You bet. I’m going to come by tomorrow and speak to the staff. This is crazy. You don’t belong in here.”
“Thanks, Harry. You’re just like your old man. I appreciate it.”
I left Pony sitting on the bench and walked away, wondering how the doctors could see anything but good in the old guy. I hadn’t gotten ten yards away when a brick hit me in the back of my head. I turned, dazed, blood trickling through my fingers, and heard Pony yelling…
“You won’t forget, will you, Harry!”
Pony, it seems, is in the best place.
More from Harry:
Adrienne Beaumont, Brett Jenae Tomlin, The Sturg, Vidya Sury, Collecting Smiles, Trisha Faye, Karen Schwartz, Nancy Oglesby, Katie Michaelson, Bernie Pullen, Michelle Jimerson Morris, Amyy, Julia A. Keirns, Pamela Oglesby, Tina, Pat Romito LaPointe, Ruby Noir 😈, Brandon, Misty Rae, Karen, Susie Winfield, Vincent Pisano, Marlene Samuels, Ray Day, Randy Pulley, Michael Rhodes, Lu Skerdoo, Pluto Wolnosci 🟣, Paula Shablo, Bruce Coulter, Ellen Baker, Kelley Murphy, Leigh-Anne Dennison, Jennifer Marla Pike, Carmen Ballesteros, Patricia Timmermans, Keeley Schroder, Jan Sebastian 🖐👩🦰, James Michael Wilkinson, Whye Waite, John Hansen, Trudy Van Buskirk, Robert Bush | Dixie Dodd
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Thanks for reading.
