The Ballad of Samson and Delilah

The Ballad of Samson and Delilah

On a brisk evening, cool and soft rain rolled down mahogany skin and hills on the abdomen. He looked down the street only to see nothing--hear nothing. The nothingness of rain--faint pitter-patters that assaulted the pavement with care. Where was she? Why hadn't she sung her song about milk and honey that wafted sweetly into his ears at night. Longing and longing in that moment, his heart came to a stand still and he saw nothing but black. Black that was so black it was blue-that swirled in a commotion of every blue hue on the canvas of the world. The ache in his chest had become insurmountable and he finally allowed himself to call out her name to a sad sky.

"Delilah? Please..."

There was an eerie silence. The honking of a car and exchanges of swearing startled him back to reality. The ache in his chest doubled. He watched everyone continue on with their lives and march asynchronously. All he could do was go back home, but just as he started back that way, he reached into pants pocket to find a lock of his hair with red ribbon tied to it. There was fire in his blood.

Earlier that year, Samson returned to Bronx after living in grave solitude in the swamp lands of Savannah. His mother begged him not to go, as she would miss him so. But he wanted to go to Sapelo where his father took him as a child. Of his fondest memories was when they walked the beach on the compact sand, the salty flying at his feet every time he picked them up to walk. When Samson approached his father from behind he saw a yellow and white crab in the distance making his way up the beach and looking on with it's beady, black eye, it scared him--as he was easily frightened as a little one. He clung to his kneeling father's arm and turned his head away.

"Daddy," he wept softly.

His father didn't say a word. He placed his hand under Samson's chin and turned it to the direction of the crab. He said, "Sam, that crab has a right to be on the beach and walk where his pleases without having someone fear him for minding his own business. There's nothing to be scared of. He ain't bothering you."
Samson looked at the crab walk off further and further into the distance until it was a speck. His father wrapped his little body into his arms and reassured him once again, "And if that thing did come over here, daddy's got you."
It had been 6 years since his dad was no longer earth-bound. And he needed to forgive him for it.