I Can't Do Anything

[finnie]

((Scatterbrained, lonesome and suffering a permanent identity crisis. Not insane. Promise. ;D ))

Maybe he was an amnesiac after all. Short term memory loss, maybe. How else could he have gotten all the way here without realizing where he was heading? Why else would he realize as soon as he set foot in the park that he didn't know why he came here in the first place? Why else did he not know his own name, hometown, age, parents? Many times he would wander as if he truly didn't know where he was. He knew where he was, most of the time. Here and there, this street and that. All the same. Street signs for name tags. If only everything was so simple. Didn't know. He just didn't. What to do, now that he was here? What could he do? Hah! Funny. About as funny as the name Finnie Jinker. Where did you come up with that name?

I can't write and I can't sing,
I can't do anything.
I can't read and I can't spell,
I can't even get to hell.

His hands were in his pockets, his hat askew on his head and he left it there. It looked alright. And he didn't care. No one would say anything. His eyes were downcast. He preferred looking at people from the waist down. Legs didn't look at you like you were crazy. Maybe he was crazy. It wouldn't surprise him. As if he didn't not know enough already. He wouldn't be surprised. If he was crazy, maybe even a little off his trolley. No, he wouldn't be. If someone told him he was, he'd believe them. If someone told him anything. They could tell him he was from the moon, and he'd believe them. They knew about as much as he did. Maybe he was from the moon. That would explain a lot.

I can't love and I can't hate,
I can't even hesitate.
I can't dance and I can't walk,
I can't even try to talk.

He was hungry. That much he knew. He scavenged through his pocket and found a great sum of lint, but no coins. Nothing. He stood there, at the entrance to the park, looking around as if bewildered. Maybe if he waited long enough someone would hand him money. Maybe it would turn up on the ground somewhere. Gosh. Was he crazy? It wouldn't surprise him. He realized he was in the middle of a busy pathway and staggered off the path and onto the lawn. He sat in the grass and watched people's legs. Why? Because there was nothing better to do. He didn't have to do anything or be anywhere. Why? Because he was no one.

Who is Finnie Jinker?

[Elizabeth Tate Potter]

Tate was rarely in Harlem for any reason but she was delivering some bread to an old woman that couldn't get to the shop anymore. It made Tate a bit melancholy that someone so sweet and nice was in so much pain. She just hopped she could make the elderly woman smile. She had that effect on people in truth. Making them smile when she thought they needed it.

She lifted her skirts with one hand and darted down the park path, like she was running threw a meadow and not threw the city. She hardly paid attention to much going on outside her realm of existence. It was another way she was still a child running through the streets not aware of the danger that would bloom around her if she was not careful. She never knew that there were people that could hurt someone, she was to innocent to see it.

Turning to look over her shoulder for only an instant she ran right into something solid and it sent her sprawling to the ground. She caught the bread in mid air and wrapped her arms around it so she hit her back to the ground and it saved the bread. Uh oh, what did she hit!?

[finnie]

((Okay, maybe a little insane... ))

Something hit him. It was a living something, a human something. He lost his footing, his body spun, and he ended up on the ground. In a series of rather simian movements, he staggered to his feet again and stared unblinking at the something who had hit him. It was a girl he didn't recognize, carrying bread in her arms. Bread? That was an odd thing to be carrying. If she was hungry she should be eating it, or else carrying it in a basket. How strange it was to see a girl carrying bread. A bread girl. Bread girl. Odd. Very odd. Yes. Odd. But so was he. So it was fine with him. He looked at the Bread Girl, and the Bread Girl looked back. He blinked twice and continued to stare.

Pretty? Eh. Sort of. Didn't think like that, usually. Maybe sometimes, but usually no. No room in my mind. Silly running mind. Mind. Mind rhymes shined. No. Wrong. Eh, it didn't matter. Oh, right, Bread Girl. She's still there. Back to Earth, Finnie. Even if you are from the moon, whoever you are. People. Lots of them. Tall short short tall tall tall short medium tall tall short medium. Man woman man girl man woman woman woman boy woman man man man woman girl boy boy...I know that boy! Hello boy I know! I know you, but you don't know me. No one knows old Finnie Jinker. No one knows old Finnie Jinker from Adam. People? Yes, people. Good. No. Not good. They were staring. Staring at old Finnie Jinker, who no one knew from Adam; and at the Bread Girl and her bread. She should be eating the bread. If she didn't want it, Finnie Jinker would take it. Whoever he was, he was hungry. Bread. Yes. Food. Good.

Finnie blinked again. He leaned forward a bit and held out one dirty hand to the fallen Bread Girl. He didn't know if he wanted to help her to her feet or else receive the gift of some of her bread. He was hungry, after all. And so with his hand extended, Finnie Jinker waited. For something.

[Elizabeth Tate Potter]

She winced and rubbed her backside as she reached up and took his hand easily, no hesitation. The other arm wrapped around the bread. She managed and smile after a breath and started to chuckle, "Sorry, sorry are you okay?" she looked the boy over and dusted off his clothes with her free hand before she backed up. Tate never stopped smiling.

[finnie]

"Sorry, sorry are you okay?"

Finne continued to stare at her. Was he? Hah! God only knew. He had the feeling that he wasn't quite as well as he should have been. He was out of sorts. Suddenly, Finnie began to laugh. He wasn't sure why, but something was just beyond hilarious, and he went into bales of hysterical shrieking laughter. People passing stopped and stared. Mothers' eyes widened and they hurried their children along, as their eyes were locked on the boy who was doubled over with insane laughter. Finnie was oblivious to this. He finally stopped laughing, and gasped for breath. "Okay?" he said, his voice hoarse. "Okay! Okay okay tokay today! Tokay today tokay today!"

His laughter started again. He cried out to the girl, "Yes! I am okay! Okay tokay today essay portray--BLUE JAY! BLUE JAY! HA! HA HA HA! Jay. Jay. The letter J. Can you spell, missy? Can you? Old Finnie Jinker can't spell. Finnie Jinker can't even spell Finnie Jinker's own name! HA HA HA HA HA HA! Would you care to dine with me? Come into my parlor. Perhaps you'll die. Perhaps you won't die. Have you ever swallowed a fly? Fly! Bird! BLUE JAY! She-swallowed- the-cat-to-catch-the-bird-she-swallowed-the-swallow-to-catch-the-spidert-to-catch-the-fly-but-don't-know-why..."

He stopped as suddenly as he began. He locked his eyes with the girl's, and he kept completely still, unblinking. "My name is Finnie Jinker. But that is a lie. Everything I tell you is a lie. I know nothing. Do you know who I am? I am no one. I am no one, so try to catch me." He jerked into motion and ran around in a circle before collapsing to the ground again. He looked up at the girl with the bread, and wondered if she'd give him some.

[Elizabeth Tate Potter]

Tate's eyes widened and she watched him with blatent awe--- she almost wished she'd went and found Davide and brought him with her. The boy was mad! The more he chattered the more Tate was reminded of her aunt when she was not doing well.

"My name is Finnie Jinker. But that is a lie. Everything I tell you is a lie. I know nothing. Do you know who I am? I am no one. I am no one, so try to catch me."

"Tate..." was all she seemed to manage through her awe-- her name, one syllable. Where was David?