Introducing my new and hopefully likable character, Henry. This will be a running series to appear in The Crossroads Chronicle moving forward.
With cold wet feet and an even colder spirit, he trudged into the night in hopes of finding a warm dry place to take his rest. Nay, there may be no hopes of nourishment ahead but if “God be as merciful as they say,” Henry Richardson thought, “comfort must lay ahead.”
Out of the darkness, the moon peeked briefly through the clouds. The torrents of chilling rain cascading down from the darkening skies, however, defeated the moon’s effort to cast a guiding light upon his path. Still, there was something revealed by the brief illuminations from above.
It was a house, nay, it “were a mansion,” our traveler surmised. “Argh! I may be able to lay me weary bones to rest upon yon porch without even obliging the owners the trouble of having to know.”
Though Henry had never in his life even seen an ocean, he tended to think like a pirate. Well, in the fashion that Henry supposed a pirate may have thought, I should say. Seeing as Henry had never actually met a pirate, he wasn’t exactly certain that he was a true follower of the pirating ways.
“Shiver me timbers!” Henry exclaimed as he settled down upon the veranda of that huge, extravagant home. The fact that he hadn’t even bothered the people inside convinced him that he had done his good deed for the day.
Henry always made a point of doing a good deed each day. Why, just yesterday he had returned the empty pie pan to the window sill where previously a fresh apple pie had been sat out to cool. That made our weary traveler feel exceptionally charitable. Henry liked doing things for others. All that sugar in that pie would have surely been detrimental to its baker. She was lucky that Henry had shown up.
Truth is, Henry wasn’t a bad fellow at all, he was just a little misguided. He’d recently learned that his absent father had been named Richard. Henry’s last name tended to change fairly often. It was “Richardson” this week, for obvious reasons I suppose.
People who first meet Henry often think that he is “slow.” “Circumstances” seem to congregate around our man Henry for whatever reason. Those who become involved in Henry’s “circumstances” soon begin to think that maybe it is the rest of us who are “slow.”
I sincerely hope to acquaint you with this lovable rogue who stumbles through life but never does he fall. Henry Bemish (his real name, as far as I can tell) is one of the most unique characters that I have encountered in my long and eventful existence.
Michael “Mike” Braswell is a graduate of Swainsboro High School and Swainsboro Technical College. He returned to Swainsboro after many years of living on the coast with his family. He loves fishing and hunting as well as traveling. Braswell is now retired and, when not partaking in one of the three before-mentioned activities, he spends much of his time with his three children and four grandchildren.