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Miss Bertha and the Helpful Policeman

© Virginia Marin

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Could it be that in each of us, there dwells a small dram of Kafka's existentialism? The following tale of Miss Bertha is based on absurdity. It shows an unusual degree of individualism and projects total freedom of innocence without malice. That the character(s) lives in a world of absurdity is evident. Her responsibility for personal acts are based exclusively on self and how she views her small isolated world. Philosophers are fond of saying that only those who attempt the absurd can achieve the impossible, which does describe the situation in Miss Bertha's case. I think that almost everyone, at some point, is drawn into and enjoys the absurd as well as ironic situations and gallows humor. Man thrives on it. Even Franz Kafka possessed a not universally known sense of humor. This is an absurbly exaggerated yarn about Miss Bertha Jefferson Davis Davenport of Ninety Six, South Carolina. Ninety Six is an actual place; Miss Bertha represents any number of folk...

Miss Bertha stood at a scant five feet and weighed in at two-hundred and ten pounds. She did not walk, she waddled. Her weighty arms and legs wore dimples at appropriate places--so did her round pudgy face.

Now Miss Bertha drove into town twice a week to the local French bakery on Twiddle Street. The street was narrow and parking was allowed only across from the bakery. This made no difference to Miss Bertha. When she wanted bread, rolls, doughnuts or French pasteries she parked where she could. If there were no parking places on the right side of the street, she parked her car on the wrong side of the street. If she could not navigate to the curb she smartly stopped several feet out.

The local policemen, upon seeing Miss Bertha, were quick enough to look the other way, for no one could outsmart or deter Miss Bertha.

But one day there was a new kid on the block. Miss Bertha hit the streets on his first day of walking the beat. Not finding a parking place on the right side of the street, she drove her big white Cadillac into two parking places on the wrong side of the street.

The new policeman tipped his hat to Miss Bertha and said, "I'm sorry Ma'am, but you can't park here."

"Why, forever why not? The very idea! Who says so?"

"City Hall says so, Ma'am."

"Well, I will only be a moment. I have to run in the bakery for a dozen doughnuts. You know, those cute itsy-bitsy ones that are filled with chocolate cream. The rector and his Miss'us are coming for supper--honestly, sergeant, I will only be a minute gone."

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