The Third Eye

All I could first see was his left lazy eye. He knew I was not alone in the woods, as he could hear the panting next to me. But I did not tell him more. My dog was not interested in lazy eyes.

It is not uncommon to meet two-eyed Cyclops in May when the New England woods get ready for a new moon. One needs to walk with confidence to see them scratch their heads and roll naked in the harvested corn fields.  They always remind me of ghosts trapped in hotels. I often meet them in the hotel exercise room past midnight when the dinner was too heavy, taken too late, and when I realize that I will not be able to sleep that night.

… He knew I was not alone in the woods, yet I was more interested in his right eye. It was a curious eye, and one that looks at you and makes you realize that the lake near-by will un-freeze soon, and that the waitress at the sweets shop had already tried the new pistachio truffle chocolate before flipping the sign on the door to “We’re open, come in”.

I sat down on a mossy stump to scratch my knee and also my dog’s ear. On cold mornings the scratch seems more pleasant to both of us. It is a ritual unperturbed by local norms. And I realized that the stump was wet.

He was not interested in my lack of surprise in seeing him. He knew I had been in those woods before, even when the corn fields near-by were green and full of corn ears. I had seen Cyclops before and I knew I would see them again. Just that I have never seen a Cyclop with one eye.

Yet, this time he knew I was not alone. He could hear the panting next to me and he wanted to know more. He lifted his lazy eye, tilted his head and asked me if the stump was wet. It was, I replied. Then he asked why I was not panting. I said that it would be difficult to breath from the mouth when my sinuses were wide open.

He scratched his thigh, and I could hear the dry skin he had. I cannot reach my back, he said, that is why I roll in the cut corn fields after the ground gets a bit softer. I thought that he made good sense.

So I watched him roll away, his lazy eye looking at me after each roll till he was too far already and I could not see much detail. I scratched my neck, realized that I had not yet had my morning coffee, felt the dampness on my ass, then told my dog to get up and walk with me some more.

It was silly for me to sit there and listen to his panting for much longer.

May 7, 2014

© Vahé Kazandjian, 2014