...And That's the End of That

Mom used to take us to the storytelling festival every year. Actually, some of us go, some years, still, but as the festival has grown and our energy has waned it's honestly a bit less fun. Also, a couple of my favorite storytellers have passed on from this chapter to the next, as it were, so it's not quite as awesome to go. (I still have my favorites that I never get tired of listening to - everybody who was there for Bill Harley's "Build Me Up, Buttercup" and David Holt playing the paper bag (yes, indeed, it is an instrument) as well as Jay O'Callahan's "Glasses" and Carmen Deedee's "Queen of the Gypsies" still remembers what it felt like to hear those stories being told. I could go on but those are the ones I still remember really well, with a few others peppered in there, along with the Happy Birthday song, and...well, you get the picture.

One other person I remember really well was Jackie Torrence. She had the biggest hands and the longest fingers I think I've ever seen in my life. I have her autograph somewhere. I remember I was so nervous to ask for it. I think I was eight at the time. She always sat down to tell her stories in that warm Southern accent of hers - I think the last time I saw her, she was in a wheelchair. She had a way about her that would just draw you in and you couldn't be free until she was done telling her story.

[Let's face it, all the best storytellers grew up in the South. I always wondered about that until I visited North Carolina...and then I knew why. I may have already written about the experience where I was on a hay ride to get pumpkins with small children and a mom just whipped out a folk tale right there on the bale of hay and everybody listened. She did all the voices and everything. I don't think anybody could get away with that where I grew up. They're all much too self-conscious, so most of them have to go to the Festival to get their story yummers in.]

Anyway...one year, a long time ago, Jackie Torrence was on stage, telling the story about Jack and the Imps. This is not Jack and the Devil, although the Devil is definitely in the story. I remember Jackie used her long, ring-spangled fingers to pretend to be the Devil pushing his eyeballs (which inconveniently popped out at regular intervals during the yarn) back into their sockets. I think my eyeballs just about came out of their sockets watching her, as the Devil, shove the eyes back in.

The main line I remember from the story was the Devil wailing, "Jack! You've converted my imps!" when he discovers that he's been outsmarted by the country bumpkin and in fact, no, his minions will not drag Jack off to hell; he enlightened them (by reading them the Bible, no less) and so they didn't feel the need to do as the Devil commanded anymore. It's kind of become a family inside joke now.

We liked the story so much that our mom got us a tape of Jackie to listen to. I mostly listened while I folded socks in the laundry room. (We had seven people. There were a lot of socks to fold.) I loved loved loved Jackie's stories...I listened to them over and over again. I never got tired of her accent when she said her special tagline. Or rather, endline. She ended every story with, "And that's...the end of that."

It occurred to me the other day that so many of life's stories end with: "And that's...the end of that." A few examples:
* A handful of dates with a guy you liked enough to say yes to but in the end neither of you is interested enough to pick up the phone, so it just kind of fizzles out, mid-text conversation, kind of without either of you noticing at first, until one or the other of you is fiddling with the phone and realizes, "Huh. It's been a couple weeks. Wow. Really? Hm. Oh well. That's the end of that."
* Missing the ferry, or an airplane, or any other mode of transportation, which causes the domino effect that makes you miss an event you really wanted to get to. Whoops.
* Out of the blue break-ups. (My friend had to do one of those the other day. It was awful. I felt so bad for them both...but I guess once you know (either way), you know.)
* Eating a really good meal, relishing the last bite of entree or dessert, maybe with a little pout on your face because you wanted just one more taste...
* Turning in the key at an apartment you're moving out of, shutting the door for the last time.
* Finishing the last question on a test, putting the pencil down and walking to turn the exam in.
* (falsely) When you get the kids tucked into bed and all seems quiet just for a moment, and you think they're actually asleep.

Sometimes, I can hear Jackie's voice in my head as I mull over events of the day, week, month...I think about chapters of my life that are closing, some that are opening, and some that are being written...hopefully with happy bits thrown in there somewheres. (The s was on purpose.) It makes me smile, think of the Devil and his converted Imps, and then I say (as appropriate), smiling and imitating Jackie:

"And that's...the end of that."