Rope

    I didn't save much from Daddy's last garage. A few flowerpots, some tools; one big printed sign "BE CAREFUL" and another "TODAY." I saved the idea of drilling a bird-sized hole in the garage door, so that never again would a bird die inside because it couldn't get out. And I saved the old rope.
    This is the best rope anybody ever had. It is about 40 feet long, and at least 70 years old, probably more. It is still as strong and flexible as it ever was. It is like a live thing, like a pliant and pleasant snake -- ready to coil and uncoil. It is like a beautiful gold necklace, that lies close to each hollow and rise in the wearer's neck -- not that this rope would ever be used by a hangman.
    This rope has pulled cars out of the snow. This rope has fastened big things to car roofs. This rope has slept in many car trunks and on a huge nail in many garage walls. This rope has hoisted 4x4 lumber up three stories outside my neighbors' house so that he could build a deck.
    This rope feels good to the hand. Nothing pricks your palm, nothing sticks your fingers, nothing burns. I dreamed one night that I used it to slide down from the roof to the ground, it was as smooth and cool in my dreaming hands as a yellow silk scarf, a banana, or a bannister rail!