A way back I was idling away the day
at Conway Bay, waiting for Waylitta
to return from her stay in Venezuela,
Paraguay, Uruguay, Kuwait, Norway
and Wales. I was watching the whales
play in the waves, when I met on the
pathway a wheyish, wayless wayfarer,
wearing waders. A bunch of Naked
Ladies and a thin tin of wafers
swayed in his suede lunch bag.
“You look in a bad way,” I ventured
“Aye, when I awakened today,” he replied,
sounding as weighed down as he looked,
“way too late, I was blown away
to find that Waylon McWaye, a waiter
at the way station, had made his way
to my home, from the waterway
by the causeway before it winds
into the freeway. He swaggered right
up our walkway and in through the
front doorway, by the way, to steal
away my Wayna, in my car from the
driveway, with Dwayne, our Great Dane,
He had a far away look, like he was
“You know,” he went on to say,
“nowadays too few of us live by the
ways of the good old days. Too quaint,
you might say. Most choose instead
the way of sinners and new fandangled
ways that lead astray. The way I figure
it, there are ways and means to lose
one's way, but Wayna's chosen the
hard way, the way of the flesh.”
“You're right, in a way,” I said, awash
with a fear of wading into the fray.
“Sometimes that's the way things lay.”
“But they must not stay that way.
Wayna's in the family way,” he said,
looking away. “First we rejoiced
in a big way. Broadcasting it over the
airways. Every day was a fete. But fate
is cruel as a rule. It dealt me a low
blow. Wayna took away the money we
had laid away from my wages for the
feng shui room I've been making
headway on for baby, teeny Tinaway,
when she comes our way.”
“I see,” I said, hoping my smile
wasn't giving me away.
“I remember the heydays when
everything was going our way,” the
weary wayfarer said. “And Wayna
with her wavy hair and tiny waist.
Oh, what a waste! So I phoned her
to ask why she was throwing away
any chance for me to change my ways
and find a better way. In my own way,
I've always tried to be good to Wayna,
in all ways. 'You cannot have it both
ways,' I told her, aware things were
looking dim. 'It's me or him.'
'Go away and stay away!' she said.
“Waylon and I will wed. So drop dead.”
'Okay,' I said, 'if that's the way you
want to play. But I'm having my car
towed away from your hideaway.
And Dwayne comes my way too.'
'No way! I'm here to stay,' was her
final say. I was persuaded to let her
have her way, until the thought
of her going all the way with McWaye
hammered away every which way
at my resolve to stay away.”
The quaver in his voice faded away
into the wail of the wayward wind.
Thinking I might dissuade him, I
asked, “Won't you waiver?”
He shook his head, and his face
turned red. “Destiny awaits us all.
But I'm not waiting for the call or
taking the fall. Come what may,
there has to be a way for me to
waylay McWaye, the dirty swain.”
“All the same—” I started to say.
“He's to blame, having his way with
Wayna. I need him out of the way,
so I can talk her into seeing her way
clear to heaving her way-out scheme
with McWaye to the wayside by
“God moves in mysterious ways, but
every day in every way, where
there's a will, there's a way,” I said,
knowing without showing that he
wasn't acquainting himself in any
way with anything I was saying.
“Anyway,” he was slow to say,
“I've come a long way. I hope it's
not too much out of your way
to show a wayworn traveler the way
to Allen Way. I came from thataway.”
He looked the other way.
I led the way to the other side of the
quay. “It's a ways over that way,” I said,
pointing above the quails roosting
between the bales by the wale.
“Aye,” he said. “Go ahead, fire away,
I need to know the way.”
“It's not so far away,” I said.
“But you have to go out of your way
to clear a way through the byway
to make it to the highway that's in the way.
So if you turn sideways, you'll be going
the right way.”
“There has to be a better way.
Shouldn't I be going more to the leeway?”
“You could do it that way,
either way, there's some leeway.
But you should do it my way, because
your way is not as good by a long way.
The roadway there leads you the other
way round through the right-of-way
which takes you out of your way. You
see, you're going to have to go way
down Wayborne, to the way point,
which gives way to Kingsway on the
way to Allen Way.”
“That's way too far away.”
“That's the way it is. You'll find my
directions will help pave your way.”
“Much obliged. I must be underway
before I start seeing the Milky Way.
Now,” he said, wagging a finger at me,
“you beware of wanton wasters plying
“I swear I'm aware,” I said weightily.
“For all it's worth, I'm not so silly as to
think there's really any safe place
from scoundrels anywhere on earth.”
He gave me a wary stare that never
waned as he waved and took his way.
I have not seen him this way again
to this day, so I expect one way or
another he made it all the way.
A WAY WITH WORDS. Copyright © 2009 by Rayanda Arts. Protected by a Creative Commons 2.5 license: You are free to share and distribute this work for noncommercial purposes provided you retain attribution to Rayanda Arts and make no derivative works. This notice of copyright must be retained on any electronic or printed copies. For more original writing, photography and fine art, please visit: www.RayandaArts.com