At Barney's

              It was a busy morning at Barney’s Chop Shop, the town barbershop.

“That’s nothin’!” Henry Green said in response to Ed Kimble’s near death experience account. “Why, I’ve been counted out eight times by police, fire, doctors, a ship captain and two county coroners! I’ve seen the lights and walked down that tunnel on many occasions but I could always tell the time was not yet ripe for Henry Green and I would turn around, re-enter my broken body and come on back to the world alive and ready for whatever cards might be dealt for the next hand,”

            Henry took a breath. “Of course, I ain’t sayin’ it’s been easy cause it hasn’t, but I’m not the kind of man that runs from trouble or danger—it just ain’t in me. Why, I remember the time my old friend, Mickey Mantle, called on me. He had gotten himself into a jam with some Sicilian loan sharks and he was afraid to show his face in public. I couldn’t blame the man. Now, the trouble was this—the World Series was just about to start the next day and the Yankees were depending on the Mick, and Mickey asked me if I would take his place in the line-up. Of course, I was flattered, and I had to admit that back then, I did look a lot like the Mick, and of course, I had always excelled in all sports—you name it, I was good at it, so I said, ‘You got it, Mick—don’t worry about a thing,” and you all know what happened with the 1961 Yanks. We made mincemeat of the Cincinnati Reds and ‘the Mick’ did pretty well for himself,”

            Henry took another breath. “Now don’t get me wrong, I haven’t always been in the right place at the right time. I remember when Elvis Presley called me up late one night and said he needed my help, badly. We had always been pretty tight so I said to him, ‘Elvis, you can count on me—what can I do for you?’ So he tells me, ‘I think I’ve lost my edge. I want to get back into the game, but I don’t know how,’ So I told him to get a fancy outfit, with a high collar maybe and some sparkly rhinestones and stuff—real flashy—and when he’d walk out on stage, folks would be dazzled before he even sang a note,” He told me later how I had saved his career. Of course, I told him to stay away from the drugs but by then he wasn’t so keen on advice from old friends,”

            Henry inhaled. “I guess that all seems trivial compared to how I talked Jack Kennedy through that missile crisis, but my country needed me and I don’t like to take credit for just being a good American,”

            Henry sat back into his chair a little; he had told three brand new whoppers and it took a lot out of him. Jimmy Nelson, who was about seven years old, approached Henry and said, “You must be about the most important man that ever lived,”

            Henry smiled and replied, “Well, I’m in no position to argue one way or the other, but my gut tells me you’re on the right track. You are a smart boy and I’m proud to know you,”

            Ed Kimble took this opportunity to say, “Henry, why don’t you tell the boy about the time you advised Richard Nixon to send those Plumbers over to the Democratic Headquarters in the Watergate Hotel to dig up some dirt,”

            There were a few giggles around the room but Henry replied without hesitation, “Once again, you’re confusing the facts, Ed. I never spoke to Richard Nixon. I did, however, encourage a young Bob Woodward to take a look at that story a little harder. I knew there was something fishy about the whole thing—there was something rotten in Denmark. I actually had to slap him a few times to get him to pay attention, but it worked. I introduced him to Carl Bernstein, pointed them in the right direction and let nature take over. Of course, I never wanted any credit for myself; once again, it was a case of doing what was right, even if it was the hard thing to do. I never backed down from a fight and I don’t take kindly to intimidation. That’s just the way I am,”

            Henry got up, kind of bowed, and left the barbershop. That last, unexpected whopper had taken its toll. Henry needed rest but he still wanted to stop by the hardware store and the bank before he went home. That would mean six more whoppers before lunch—a tall order by any measure but if anyone could pull off such a feat, Henry Green was the man.

Copyright 2010 Tom Roy