The Wizard of Lozanos Road
When my father was dying I came
Six thousand miles to visit him in Newcastle, California
and stay until I could wrench myself
in two and pull away.
A gangly house stared out over prickly
stubble to a green meadow, cows,
neon-pink fence roses, a scoop of pond
and wild berries dotting fields and creek.
Inside I soon sussed rats living in the house,
in the walls...you could hear them!
Refusing to use poison, Daddy said,
"Why not just talk to them?"
Now you don't roll your eyes at a dying man
no matter how maddened you become...
so mother and I agreed to another scheme of the
brilliant-wizard-engineer who'd raised me.
In an Isosceles of kitchen chairs we sat
holding hands and bowing heads
while my father took the lead.
"Rat Boy, this is a people house" he intoned.
"If any of you were thinking of staying,
It's a bad idea.
"We want you to move on now.
You can have the back field,
preferably beyond the creek.
"You can even have the woodpile; I won't
be needing it.
And if you don't go, my daughter here
is going to kill you"
It was straight forward enough.
Mother and I added, "Amen".
and then stood.... each
churning his own thoughts.
Home in London I got a call.
Daddy was still rolling around
in his wheelchair fixing things...
but the rats had gone.
Three months later my father died.
He had waited for one more Christmas,
his favorite day of the year,
then died the day after.
Perhaps the scary white goose who followed
him around wanting to be held and a clutch
of auburn colored chickens he'd vigilantly
protected from raccoons
felt the subtle change in the universe.
...or maybe not.
But as for the rat family,
living now beyond the creek,
if they even thought about coming back,
quickly changed their minds,
remembering once again the part about
the evil daughter.
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