A Tourist in Mayberry

5/5) Hero: Mr. Reuben Cropps

Heroes come in all shapes and sizes, in all bodies and abilities.

Mr. Cropps was a mystery to me. A mystery that needed to be solved. He was an enigma, a stickler, a crux, a mind-boggler, and a brain teaser. He was perplexing and mystifying. He was an unsolved puzzle. Once we discovered him, Magdalena and I spent most of that summer studying and observing him, taking notes, investigating, pondering. I know this seems ridiculous, but despite what you might think about a man who hardly twitched a muscle, Mr. Cropps somehow seemed more alive than the average person. You looked into his eyes and just knew, he was listening, and thinking, and making decisions.

Mr. Reuben Cropps became our new project, and he did not disappoint.

After Mr. Jenkins introduced me to Mr. Cropps, I spent everyday that summer, and many days after, in Mr. Cropps room talking with him. That is, once we figured out how he was talking. Mr. Jenkins would not reveal the secret, but he did say it was all right for us to spend time with Mr. Cropps. He felt sure Mr. Cropps would enjoy the diversion.

It took many hours of investigating and taking notes on our clipboards before we solved the mystery of Mr. Cropps.

Here are some of our notes:

Multiple visitors today. Shiela came. She was talking non-stop and telling Mr. Cropps about the latest gossip and who was sleeping with who. What? Was she talking about sex? Were people that age still sleeping with other people ? We were shocked but tried to play it cool. She went on and on and suddenly stopped, slapped her knees and started laughing so hard both Magdalena and I thought she choked on her gum. "I swear, " she said, "Ruby, you are so wicked. I can't believe you said that. I love you, you always make me laugh." What? Mr. Cropps did not say a word.

Reid is here today, like yesterday. He always seems to be here. In and out. Like he is watching for something or checking on Mr. Cropps to make sure he hasn't gone anywhere. He never says more than three words to us or Mr. Cropps. He sometimes pats Mr. Cropps's hand. He nods at us. We call him the bodyguard. (We didn't know it at the time, but Reid was the bodyguard).

Nurse Ratched, not her real name but she deserves it, is mean to everybody, patients and staff alike. She is the second shift charge nurse. She is retired military and must have been a drill sergeant or something bossy because she is still bossy. People are afraid of her. She is so blunt, you feel like you have been lightly punched in the face when she addresses you. She has dark brown eyes piercing you to your soul, and you immediately stop doing whatever you were doing that made her pierce you to the soul to start with. She is stern to everyone except Mr. Cropps. She comes into his room and immediately turns his TV to the history channel. "Reuben, who keeps turning your TV? I will find them and fire them, I promise." She walks out, but not before saying to Mr. Cropps, "You're welcome." Magdalena looks at me and shrugs her shoulders.

And one day, the nursing assistant, Cindy, who told me too much information before about Mr. Cropps and probably violated his privacy rights, comes in the room to change his sheets. She changes the channel to some inane, addictive as heroin, daytime trash show. Magdalena glances up from her reading and

Magdalena says: Mr. Cropps does not like his TV changed.

Cindy says: Well, too bad, if I am going to be in here changing these dirty sheets, I'm gonna watch my show.

I say: No seriously, change it back.

Cindy says: I ain't changing it back. That old man retard ain't watching that TV. He don't talk. He just laying there. He don't care about that TV.

To which neither Magdalena or I responded. We were young and used to living in a supposed politically correct country. At least, adults were supposed to be politically correct as far as we knew. Weren't they? We knew Cindy from our visits to the nursing center. We knew she was not popular with the other employees because she was lazy and laid out of work and left others to do her job. She was self centered and about as bright as a burned out lightbulb. We did not know she was a mean girl too.

Finally, Magdalena says: First of all, retard is an offensive word, and it is not proper to call anyone that, and second, Mr. Cropps is smarter than anybody in this whole place. He is a world famous behavioral scientist and criminologist. He has solved many crimes. He is famous. And, besides, he can hear every word you are saying.

Cindy says: I will say what I want and I say (as she pointed at Mr. Cropps with each word spoken). Retard. Retard. Retard.

Nurse Ratched miraculously appears. She looks at the nursing assistant and does not say a word, but points to the door and you can tell by the point what she is saying and it is - Get the hell out that door. You are fired.

Good riddance.

So, that is how the summer went until we solved the mystery that was Mr. Cropps. It was Magdalena who figured it out. I told you she was smart.

"SOS," she said one day. "He is tapping out SOS with his finger. It's morse code. Dot, dot, dot, dash, dash, dash, dot, dot, dot. It is morse code."

"Why is he tapping out SOS? What is wrong?" I asked.

Magdalena leaned in close to Mr. Cropp's face where he could see her face. She looked at him hard. Their faces were almost touching. She smiled a slow smile. "Nothing's wrong. He knows we are smart enough to recognize the most common use of morse code. A distress signal."

"Wow," I said. "We gotta get a book so we can talk back."

We got a book, and asked Nurse Ratched (her real name was Joyce Starling) and Mr. Jenkins when we had questions. We spent the rest of the summer hanging out with the smartest, funniest, best advice giver, and all around good guy, in the western hemisphere. Mr. Cropps became important to Magdalena and me. Though he could not move or speak out loud or even get out of the bed, Mr. Cropps became our hero.

Mr. Cropps became the dad we wished for. The dad we both longed for, the ideal of a father we never knew. Mr. Cropps was what we both thought a good dad should be.

Everybody needs a good father figure, and Mr. Cropp was ours.