Speechless...

The Captain has always believed that truth is stranger than fiction – even my fiction, which has the benefit (or curse) of the embellishment that is the byproduct of that aberration of a human organ, my mind. I have always managed to find humor where polite human society insists there is not. The case that I have chosen for this piece is no exception. Verily (who the f&*k says “verily”?), I read about it and split my gut. What is different, though, is that, for the very first time, I have read a story about a four year old prodigy (from a Southern state, mind you!) that could not be expanded upon, or made more ridiculous, or sublime, or even didactic. I will comment, as my mental deficiencies demand, but I will not, CAN NOT, make it any more fantastic. So even though I am not literally speechless, one little boy from Tennessee has left The Captain imaginatively speechless, an idea I once considered an impossibility!

The basic facts as I know them:

Precocious four year old boy, the product of a teen mother and an inmate father.

21 year old mother, who claims to be a failure because her genius of a child managed to escape every possible child entrapment device she set up in her house.

Deadbeat yet still beloved Dad.

The Christmas season, a time for families to be together, and an innocent child who sets off on an improbable journey to bring together his fractured family.

Beer in cans.

Cross dressing.

Stolen Christmas presents.

The evil neighbor.

This is more than just a story about white trash hijinx, though it is that for sure. It is a story about the irrepressible creativity of a child in the face of long odds. A story about how a little boy’s love for his father is more powerful than social norms and prison walls. Witness the fact that a child of a teenage mother and felon father, a child from the state of Tennessee, mind you, a child with who should by all rights claim as a major accomplishment that he still had all of his teeth in his cute little head, a child with absolutely no business whatsoever of demonstrating anything beyond a marginal IQ, is nevertheless able to perform extraordinary acts of ingenuity and daring do in the pursuit of his deepest holiday wish – to spend Christmas with Daddy… in prison. This is nothing short of a Christmas Miracle. The mitigating factors, like the fact Dad is in jail and Mom is negligent, and that the neighbors think so little of his prospects that they are content to let him wander the streets drunk and in a dress in the middle of the night, matter not. This is, like the original Christmas story, about the love between a father and his only son. Billy Bob brought Hayden into this world with the certain knowledge that his firstborn son would follow in his footsteps and ultimately come into conflict with the local authorities – he just never expected it to happen at the tender age of four.

Yet, stripped to its bare essentials, this is a funny story, nay, an absolutely hysterical laugh out loud funny story. It is also a sad story.

Sometime after midnight on December 17, 2009, 4 year old Hayden Wright was able to grip the door knob lock placed on the inside of his bedroom door with enough strength to open the door, yet maintain silence so that his mother remained fast asleep. After slipping past several more child fences, he heads out the back door and manages to open his Grandpa’s giant beer cooler, which was fastened well enough to keep out wild bear but not a 4 year old boy on a mission. Hayden knew exactly what he was looking for as he quietly removed a can of beer. Showing amazing dexterity and strength, he opens it. No dummy, he knows from watching Pa and Grandpa that there is only one thing to do with a can of open beer and he begins to suck it down. He reconnoiters around front and heads out on an early morning stroll through the neighborhood. Having apparently inherited his father’s instincts, he heads straight for the house of neighbors who never lock their front door and sneaks in. He decides for himself to have Christmas come early and begins to open up the pile of neatly wrapped presents under his unsuspecting neighbors’ Christmas tree. Finding a little girl’s dress to his liking, he puts it on, takes a few more swigs of beer, gathers up a bag of toys, and heads back to the street in a frilly little pink number in search of more adventure. He randomly picks a house and rings the doorbell, waking the female occupant. She answers the door, sees little Hayden, recognizes him, and sends him – a four year boy wandering unattended at three in the in the morning in a girl’s dress drinking a can of beer - on his merry way and GOES BACK TO SLEEP AND TELLS NO ONE! Eventually, little Hayden gets bored (probably finished his beer) and rings another doorbell, which was answered by a responsible female adult, who takes his cold little hand and marches him straight home.

Meanwhile back home, Hayden’s mother, now a mature 21, was awakened by her maternal instincts – either that or her vodka filled bladder – and realizes something is wrong when she sees every frickin’ gate, lock, and door open in the house; she frantically searches for her little escape artist when the door bell rings. What follows is a holiday reunion that echoes the parable of the Prodigal Son, along the lines of something you might hear sung about in a Country Music Christmas song. When mommy asks our little dove why he drank beer, stole and cross-dressed, he answers with the honesty of a babe: he wanted to spend Christmas with Daddy in the Penitentiary, so he simply did what all children do – mimicked his father, which in this case meant breaking several laws after a night of heavy drinking. After all, that’s how dear old Dad did it!

To quote that prophetic street poet and songwriter Craig Finn: “I was a skeptic at first, but these miracles work.” Thanks to Hayden, I now believe in Christmas Miracles and in the incomprehensible bond between father and son, a bond that recognizes no boundaries, especially legal ones.

So there you have it; a true story that needs no assistance from the poet, the philosopher, or The Captain. As Reader’s Digest puts it: A Drama in Real Life, only this one doesn’t involve getting mauled by a savage wild beast as a result of your own stupidity.

Believe The Captain when he says: Crime doesn’t pay, but sometimes it has a big Ol’ Heart!

Yours crying in my beer can,

The Captain


Cute!