Anything is Possible

I imagined a story from a Tom Petty song

Oct 03, 2024

I’m not a person who’s easily starstruck nor am I a super fan of any celebrity. But I do love me some Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. Tom died 7 years ago today. When I heard, it hit me like a punch in the gut. I was a regular listener of his show on Sirius XM and I really miss him there, although you can still listen to his past shows. I’m glad I saw the Heartbreakers in concert here back in 2003 at the UNO Lakefront Arena, a mid-size venue that was pretty perfect. I had a good seat, good view. It was the best concert I’ve ever attended.

One day in 2022 I was listening to “Running Down a Dream”, one of my favorite songs, about Tom and Del cruising around the countryside, maybe having a beer (in my mind it’s the 70s, country kids did that all the time), listening to the radio, and talking trash like guys do. I wondered what their girlfriends thought about it. I sat down and started a story, finished it in two short sessions. Had a blast writing it. I tweeted that I had written a story based on a Tom Petty song and wondered who might be interested in publishing it. Got a PM from Aaron Burch who read it, accepted it right away, and published it in Hobart. It’s now housed at HAD.

In memory of Tom, I’m sharing it here tonight. Hope you enjoy.

Miss ya, Tom.

Anything is Possible
Tom and Del were like Jack and Coke, cruising down the neck of town in Tom’s long, cool convertible, me waiting in front of the Quik Pik in 90% humidity on a July day, holding a corn snake in a cardboard box.
Del was deathly scared of snakes. And nosy.
I was tired of playing second fiddle to Tom.
Placing the box in his lap I said, “Del, would y’all take this box to Widow Jane for me? I have to work a double shift.”
They say Del ran all the way to the next county. Not far enough, in my opinion.
* * *
I started working at the Quik Pik when I was 16 and daddy lost his job at the chemical plant. Sidney was the new owner, new to town, new to the South. He picked his cuticles, pronounced hard R’s. He was convinced I had scared off customers.
“Traffic has decreased since your snake escapade. People think you might fling one on them if you get mad.”
“I might if they don’t stop poking the produce.” I said. “Everybody knows corn snakes are harmless anyway.”
He started picking his cuticles.
“Well, I’m sorry, Ruby, but I can’t have somebody keeping snakes in my store and bagging groceries. It’s not sanitary.” he said.
I heard him on the phone talking to Percy the reptile trapper about searching the premises. Me and Percy are cousins. I called him, too.
* * *
It was a beautiful day. I was waiting on the porch when I saw a cloud of dust down the road and a rumble like a bobcat on the prowl. Tom’s red Impala emerged, fins looking like wings of freedom.
He pulled up with a wink and a smile, singing “Little Runaway”. I threw my Samsonite on the back seat and hopped in.
“You call Raylene?“ he asked.
“Yep. She’s already got me an interview at Weeki Wachee and started sewing sequins on a tail fin.” I replied.
Sometimes dreams run us down.