Remarkable Man

*Short story I'm working on:

There is only one truly remarkable man I have ever had the good fortune and the god-awful horror of knowing.

Thomas was a simple man, the kind of calm, patient man you could never imagine getting angry, but knowing that if he ever did find something to get angry about, it would be the most terrifying thing you had ever seen.  He was the kind of man who didn't say very much, except that everything he said had a kind of weight to it.  Watching him talk was like watching someone juggle fifty pound weights without so much as breathing harder. 

Thomas used to say that “everything worth knowing was already known.”  First time I heard him say that, and this was only a few days into knowing him, I laughed out loud and walked away, thinking that this was the simplest fool I’d ever seen.  But Thomas’ words, had this weight to ‘em, and they would slowly sink down into your head like quicksand.  Before too long, I was struggling to keep those words from crushing me like a bug, so when I saw him again, buying seed at McAlister’s, I struck up a conversation with him.  Well, I thought I was having a conversation.  I imagine it looked more like a puppy nipping at the heels of a mastiff.  I would throw myself into a suspiciously casual thought, and Thomas would nod or smile, not really saying much.  After what felt like a long time, I finally asked him, “Hey, while we’re here talking, do you remember what you said before about how everything worth knowing was already known?”  Smile.  Nod.  I continued, nervously, “So I've been thinking, and I just can’t shake it, that maybe, you know…”  I trailed off waiting for him to pick up where I left off.  He doesn't.  I continue.  “Well, what I mean is…what do you mean?”  Faint twitch at the corner of his mouth – like a laugh would have been too heavy for me, so he spared me weight of it. 

“You’re a fool if you think that some new discovery is going to make you a better man, or father, or friend, or Christian, or brother, or son or worker.  If some new discovery helps you be better at anything else, I wonder if it’s worth being good at it.” 

He finished talking and there was a thud in the air, followed by a kind of lightness.  Everything that those words pressed down on before, it turns out that those things weren't important.  It’s like juicer, squeezing down and squeezing down until what is left is exactly what you need. 

Thomas just stood there, both feet flat on the floor, hands in his pockets.  He smiled, full and strong this time, lifted his fifty pound bag of seed to his shoulders like it was air, and walked to his truck. 

I all could think was, “remarkable.”