{"id":5679,"date":"2023-01-28T14:11:40","date_gmt":"2023-01-28T19:11:40","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thisiswilmot.ca\/?page_id=5679"},"modified":"2023-01-29T03:47:16","modified_gmt":"2023-01-29T08:47:16","slug":"carpe-1","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/thisiswilmot.ca\/?page_id=5679","title":{"rendered":"“Carpe – 1”"},"content":{"rendered":"

B<\/em><\/strong>acon <\/em><\/strong>S<\/em><\/strong>crapins <\/em><\/strong>\u2013 \u201cCarpe – 1\u201d<\/span><\/h3>\n

by Barry S. Wolfe<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>Bacon Scrapins<\/em><\/strong> are the little bits of meat left in the greasy fry pan. They\u2019re tasty, but the nutrition sometimes needs searching for. This tale is a bacon scrapin<\/strong>.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

The heavy baton swept back and forth across the steel bars of the drunk tank, the cacophony vibrating through the room.<\/p>\n

\u201cGet up, Carpe<\/em>. Time to get those bones moving!\u201d<\/p>\n

The blanket under the steel bunk moved. The baton swept back and forth again.<\/p>\n

A face appeared, and the blanket rolled over out from under the bunk.<\/p>\n

\u201cGrab that slop bucket, Carpe<\/em>, and bring it here with you!\u201d<\/p>\n

The figure slowly stood with the blanket falling to cover it from head to knees like a hooded cape. It turned, slipped gnarled toes into paper slippers, picked up the handle of the bucket, and shuffled to the door as the officer unlocked the cage door.<\/p>\n

\u201cGood man, Carpe<\/em>.\u201d The blanket and bucket moved out of the cell toward a deeply stained laundry tub beside a toilet.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re a rare, tidy customer, Carpe<\/em>. There aren\u2019t many who don\u2019t leave a sloppy mess behind them when we move them out and back onto civilization\u2019s streets. Dump that vomit into the toilet. Fill the bucket with water from the tap and dump it down the toilet.\u201d The figure did as instructed, the fresh water flushing the toilet of its filth. It was an operation that was a practiced routine for both participants.<\/p>\n

\u201cPut the bucket over there and come with me to the discharge desk. I\u2019ve got a newbie out front from the Community Services who wants to talk with you.\u201d A grunt was the only response, but the figure trailed behind the officer, holding up his pants with one hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cOk, Carpe<\/em>, here\u2019s your belt, your shoes, socks, coat, toque, mitts, backpack. Sign here!\u201d The figure signed, ‘Carpe’<\/em>, with a smooth, neat script. He put on his socks, boots, belt, pulled his coat around him, and stuffed the rest of his things into the sturdy backpack.<\/p>\n

At the discharge desk the figure named Carpe<\/em> turned his head to look with a blank face at the waiting woman. A passing officer called out to him, \u201cHey, if it isn\u2019t Crappy<\/em> the Indian back for another overnight visit. It\u2019s been a while, Crappy<\/em>! Where\u2019ve ya been for the last year? We were missing your worthy presence. Should we make a reservation now, no pun intended, for a room again this time next year?\u201d He chuckled, only for himself, and walked on.<\/p>\n

The figure at the desk made no reply, but just turned to look again at the woman waiting for him. He then walked to the exit and out the door to the street, ignoring her. She pushed out through the door behind him and hurried to catch up beside him as he walked slowly south.<\/p>\n

\u201cMr. Carpe<\/em>, I\u2019d like to talk with you if I may, please. I\u2019d like to help you!\u201d the woman said.<\/p>\n

Carpe<\/em> ignored her. At an intersection he stopped beside a building, and when the light changed, he moved smoothly across the street to the shaded side and continued walking on the sidewalk as close to the buildings\u2019 fronts as possible. He used shadows to pause in and avoid a pedestrian if they came close. It didn\u2019t matter as no one looked at him anyway.<\/p>\n

The woman persistently kept pace with him and asked, \u201cCan I buy you breakfast, please?\u201d<\/p>\n

Carpe<\/em> stopped, turned slowly to face her and asked, simply, \u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause you look hungry, and I\u2019d like to ask you some questions about yourself.\u201d She pulled out an identification card with her picture, name, job title and the official government stamp, and showed it to him.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo. You\u2019re from the government and you\u2019re here to help me by buying me one breakfast?\u201d he said with a penetrating gaze into her eyes.<\/p>\n

She smiled, and replied, \u201cYes, if you\u2019ll let me listen to your story.\u201d<\/p>\n

After a long studied pause he replied, \u201cYou\u2019ll have to do take out and eat in my kitchen, as he spread his arm to take in the entire street. I\u2019m not dressed for indoor dining.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDeal!\u201d she answered. \u201cWhat do you want to eat for takeout?\u201d<\/p>\n

The Bacon Scrapins characters, locations and scenarios are the fictional product of the author\u2019s imagination – usually.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

You may email appropriate comments for the writer to thisiswilmot@gmail.com<\/strong><\/em><\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Bacon Scrapins \u2013 \u201cCarpe – 1\u201d by Barry S. Wolfe \u00a0Bacon Scrapins are the little bits of meat left in the greasy fry pan. They\u2019re tasty, but the nutrition sometimes needs searching for. This tale is a bacon scrapin. The heavy baton swept back and forth across the steel bars of the drunk tank, the […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":4072,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-5679","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thisiswilmot.ca\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/5679","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thisiswilmot.ca\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thisiswilmot.ca\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thisiswilmot.ca\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thisiswilmot.ca\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=5679"}],"version-history":[{"count":10,"href":"https:\/\/thisiswilmot.ca\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/5679\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5693,"href":"https:\/\/thisiswilmot.ca\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/5679\/revisions\/5693"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thisiswilmot.ca\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/4072"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thisiswilmot.ca\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=5679"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}