Back Home

Tales From

Jack Saileys’Journal VOL. 1:

By Samuel Bailey

The First Story is…

Back Home

Prologue

My eyes opened to a blur and slowly started to form the image in front of me. Then I noticed something, the sound of the squeaking wheels on the drink cart, that was passing me by, was not accompanied by the usual generic question. The one that asked whether or not I would like a child sized cup-filled half way of water and some salty peanuts. Instead, an obvious and troubling case of sleep apnea, that seemed to be attempting to reach its’ peak, was all that lay in the aftermath of the carts’ soundtrack. This has to mean that we must be very close to landing. Since hour sixteen I have been closely watching the time, I was attempting to entertain myself with the agony of boredom. It was a failed mission but when it is all said and done I am still standing, rather still sitting. Suddenly a very raspy voice began sputtering off the status and plan for the landing of the flight, it was the type of message that must have been reported a hundred times. It makes me think that they must be issued flashcards upon the completion of their training, the type of cards that are usually given to telephone solicitors. I suddenly stopped thinking in that fashion, this definitely was not one of those dollar store announcements, merely because its’ purpose was to inform us of our arrival. The uniqueness of the message was only different than most because we were not returning from a weekend trip to see the grandparents; or a week long invigorating vacation at the beach. The length of our hiatus from the world, the world that most people have become accustomed to that is, was quite longer than anyone would like to spend at those regular spots. I tried to push the thought to the back of my mind, but it is very difficult to get over the fact that the last year is about to be wiped away with the lowering of the wheels. The past year is simply a memory now and will mean nothing, at least genuinely that is, to the people on the outside of the plane. I filed away the thought and brought to the front of the line that I am finally back.     

The moment I touched down in Virginia I knew something was wrong. I just didn't feel the same as I had during my previous return back to the states. The return back on the first run was filled with excitement, the type that a little boy feels on Christmas morning. Everyone is aware of this moment, it is the one when the boy wakes up and sneaks a peak at the presents under the tree just before pouncing on his parents’ bed. I knew this time that there was no new bike or shiny toy waiting for me at the other side of the runway. Instead I had the inclination that what was waiting for me was not capable of settling my uneasy feeling let alone providing me with that cliché excitement. I knew who was waiting for me and I was not aware whether this was the reason for that rumbling in my gut, but I was sure that he was not going to offer any intelligent relief.  He was very opportunistic and made his wealth by peddling not a product but his influences. He was the owner of the class of ideas that may not be copyrighted or knowingly projected to the outside public, but they have more than seen their fair share of light. The type of ideas that usually get planted in you at a young age and you weren’t yet at the level to understand or even fathom the ramifications it had on the future. You instead held an optimistic and slightly ignorant view towards the horizon. You definitely never thought that your relationship with him would still exist or at least that was my young misconception. Nine years after our first meeting we still remain very close. He would always take breaks from the partnership for one reason or another, but like a good business man he will stick it through till the end, whatever it took to help the bottom line. Because once you sign on with him he will forever remain persistent until he sees his work and accomplishments praised. He was definitely a glory hog, but he is one of those friends that you look passed their down side because they are always there, rain or shine.

 The final arrival time of the plane had been delayed for various reasons. My wife and son had occupied a hotel room for the past week waiting for my return. It got to the point where they could no longer sit and watch the 22” inch television to fulfill their entertainment need and more importantly, the usual everyday obligations and responsibilities of life needed to be taken care of over seven hundred miles to the south. She was on a time limit and the clock had expired on her trip up north. I asked her to stay and wait even though I knew it to be an irresponsible request. She had to get back to work. She was always one to think logically and not emotionally. Even as a teenager she was always critical of freeloaders and tried her best to transfer some of her seriousness to me. Through all her failed attempts I always responded with a smile, I could tell it was wearing her down.     

Even with our differences I felt she was the perfect girl for me. She was a little quirky and weird, and that might be teetering on the brink of an understatement, but so was I in some degree. I knew the correct response would be for her to return to Georgia, but I waiver in my internal argument because I needed to feel some type of connection soon; or I was grappling with the notion that I would be forever lost. The reasons for her to return were undisputable and simple. Therefore after hearing the news that our plane had been delayed once again, I knew what the conclusion would be. I also knew that with this joint decision I was inviting something else in. I knew that someone else would be standing in her position, the same place she stood only two years ago for our first reunion from this era. I guess it is good that I will at least have someone. I began to feel excited. I have always been one to take advantage of every opportunity, especially when faced with a troubling situation. I seem to be able to search through the remains of a broken plan and pull out some positive debris. This time will be no different.      

Chapter 1

          Two months had passed since I originally landed in the United States. The past sixty days provided me with nothing but a couple jumbled memories and a letter that wrapped up everything that I had accomplished over the previous four years. I found myself driving through the southeast heading to what I once held on a pedestal as the greatest place for me. I was heading home. I have been there since I originally left, but this time it is different. There will be no returning. I am going home for good. I have completed my obligation and now I am ready to move on. Well, I don’t want to say I am ready, but more so I am willing. I have lived so transitional these past five years that it seemed unimaginable that I would ever be in a permanent spot. It makes your mind think about what is home. Is it the location, or is it the people that occupy it. Or more simply, is it what the place represents, which in my case it represents a time or period that was not corrupted.  Maybe it was, as I look back, but I was ignorant to that fact which still creates an innocent image in my mind. All of this ran through my mind as I traveled the highway that I have become all too familiar with. I drove this route various weekends while living in Virginia.

          The route dispensed a portal and allowed me to access that unforgotten time period, but truth be told, as time faded away I found myself slipping into a different role. This is the period of my life that I am fully drowning in now.

Those weekends were very carefree and they gave me a chance to see people that I felt I had developed a bond with.  And let me not forget, there is that girl that I left behind with my son. She was different than most and gave me the motivation before there was my son to make that eight hour trip there and back to only stay for two days. I definitely made those two days count.

The landscape I see is calm and somewhat boring. There is concrete and many types of vegetation crawling around the streets, giving no attention to the far away city lights. With nothing creeping in to the highway but more darkness, I felt it is simply only my car, my mix tapes, and I traveling on this windy road. I feel that this trip back should be a triumph. Yet, there is that pit in my stomach that reminds me that I must confront certain issues upon my arrival. Instead, I simply take a sip from my drink and ignore the inevitable destruction ahead. I told myself I will live in the now and take it for what it is. He taught me a lot, and he let me know that it was the right move. He supplied me with a false confidence persona that I needed to overcome the idea of the obstacles ahead. As I drove into the darkness of the night, I listened to the same music that settled my soul, while overseas. I used the music to keep my focus on the road.

          The idea that everything is going to be better now is somewhat of an anomaly. Why does it all of a sudden change? Although I won’t have to travel across the Atlantic Ocean to reside in a desert for a year at a time, I feel that the problems that I developed over there have arrived as I have. They weren’t even checked, simply carry-on. I told myself I needed to stop and get help, yet he said just one more and we will be fine. We will get right and do everything that we are meant to do. We became a team, and I knew that one day I would have to relinquish those thoughts. I pull my car over to get off the next exit for gas. As I am pondering these thoughts while pumping, a sign emerges. It reads “Welcome to South Carolina”. I am now one step closer to being done once and for all with this trip, yet the desired end is certainly a long way off.

I will not be able to reach it until I am home wherever that may be and since I can’t do it alone I will once again request the consultation of my partner.

Chapter 2

My eyes suddenly open and I find myself staring at an oddly shaped building with a large empty parking lot at its’ 6’ 0 Clock. I recall that I am at a rest area just passed the border of South Carolina. I must have stopped for a short nap, which was probably a good idea seeing how I haven’t enjoyed any real sleep in the past 48 hours. I hear a slight chuckle in the back-round as if thinking for my-self was some kind of joke. The audacity that I might need to sleep seemed hilarious to him. The trip home would have been almost impossible without a passenger. He definitely wasn’t my first pick but I had to make the choice between a little bit of discomfort and the reality that I wasn’t yet ready to face. Also he was very positive which gave me a sense of reassurance. The constant chiming in, that I was almost becoming accustomed to, often explained to me very simple, “you just do the driving and I will take care of the thinking.”  This is the first time he has ever vocalized his opinions, he is more of a quiet pusher of thoughts and ideas. I am guessing that he has finally found his comfort level almost four hours into the journey. His presence was always enough. I feel the urge to resist yet I know I must continue this trip and honestly I don’t think I can make it alone. I set my car in reverse and then quickly shifted into drive to begin the last part of the trip. I rode down the windy exit of the rest area and made my way onto the highway. I was definitely more than half way there. This fact settled my stomach just a bit since the bad vibe that he brings with him definitely takes a toll on me. I found myself continuingly checking my cell phone, the reason I put out was to see if I had any missed calls or messages but the real reason was to check the time. I was becoming very eager to the imminent departure from each other. I felt his burning eyes on me as if he was starting to pick up on the signs from my repetitive behavior.

          Suddenly a burst of energy rushed over me, which means one of two things, the generic energy drink that I purchased at our last stop but had been waiting till the perfect moment to drink had started to kick in, or the sight of the rising sun is bringing me a shiver that is as close to euphoria as I have been in a while. It is the same kind of feeling that brings us relief and a temporary release that a sneeze brings with it.  Whatever the reason or meaning behind it, I feel well rested and ready to get home. I suddenly start to feel excited to get back to my own personal shelter. The thought of starting over in a positive way is enough to illuminate my face. He is quiet now, I don’t know if he is sleeping or if the sunlight hurts his eyes. I can finally think the right way for once this trip. The negativity has subsided and I begin to feel the power of the sunrise as a symbol for better things to come. The thought entered my mind that maybe I can do it without him. I even had the idea creep up in my mind that maybe I should drop him off at a rest area. I could pull off quickly and leave him growing smaller in my rear view. Confidence told me that I can handle anything as long as I stay focused and appreciate the abundance of beauty around me.

I am making very good time, I am cruising and not one time have I thought of him or any of his rhetoric. I think to myself, be this it, did I relinquish the partnership that I entered into so long ago. If so what would be the best way to make it official. If so what would happen, will I continue on the same track, or am I now free to expand myself to the good life, sort of speak. Whatever may be planted in front of me, I felt I could handle it, and handle it alone. My internal discussion is disrupted by a notice from my phone. It was the sound of chirping birds mixed with duck noises. The alert sound was not something I could remember, either I had changed it recently while I was celebrating my exit or this was a joke from someone I was leaving behind. The phone informed me of a voicemail. Brushing it off, I figured I was so immersed in the thought of happiness that I must have temporarily forgotten the moment that I had changed it. I took the phone and began to listen to the voicemail. A smile immediately sneaks up my face because of the woman on the message, it is my wife. Due to certain scheduling conflicts we have not been able to speak very often since my return. A certain blanket of animosity had covered our relationship lately. Needless to say we were not in such a great place at the moment but timing is everything. She has caught me in a great mood which adds to my excitement to hear her speak. I was willing to put everything aside, if only for a moment, to enjoy this.  

The smile that previously resided on my face was completely gone within an instant. I went over in my head over and over the words that had shredded all urges for happiness and a feeling of hope. The words contained in this voicemail will forever remain infamous; the words uttered are ones’ such as separation and divorce. The overall message wasn’t important to me, but those words definitely resonated with me. I pull over just passed the Georgia border to regain my composure.

As I lower my window a breeze slipped in, bringing with it a raspy voice. The once sleeping heavily co-pilot was now wide awake. I looked at him with the eyes that surely told the story a lot better than any words ever could. I felt I needed some type of advice or comfort but at the same time I wished I was alone. He placed his left hand on the volume knob for the CD player and turned it quickly to the left till it would no longer tun. This was odd because he was never one to touch my radio which is one of the only things that I liked about riding with him. He rolled up his window and I followed his lead then I sat anticipating something. I wasn’t sure what I was waiting for at this moment but I know I should center my attention to something as far away from my broken marriage as possible.

He began to speak, “see I told you not to trust anyone, they will be there when times are good, but you slip slightly and they are nowhere to be seen. Do you think that is a coincidence, everything happens for a reason. Mostly they happen because of the seven guidelines. Wasn’t it over five years ago that I told you the truth, that there is no love, nobody wants you to succeed. With that mentality you will never feel like this again, so just relax and we will pay them back when the time comes, and it will come.”

          A cold breeze rushed over my body which was odd because I was under the impression that the car was closed up tight to the outside world. Even with the engine on and the phantom breeze there was a silence that I have seldom ever experienced. I leaned back and circled around his speech to me, I even contemplated agreeing with him. To me it seemed like the best solution to get myself pass this hump. The ability to shut down comes and goes but he certainly makes it easier to relinquish the pain.

Chapter Three

I sat staring out my window at the mostly empty parking lot. The only company my vehicle had was an old beat up mercury that seemed to be abandoned some time ago. I contemplated the story behind the owners’ betrayal. Suddenly my attention was grabbed by the flashing incorrect time on the display on my stock radio. It lit up a time that showed no indication of the days’ actual face. The clock had recently been messed with and now it no longer showed an accurate depiction. I never took the time to fix it, so now I am sitting in my car staring at it in this almost vacant parking lot at a rest area somewhere on the outskirts of Georgia. I stare aimlessly at the time that clearly reads 4 A.M, yet simultaneously I recognize the brightness of the sun which points closer to an early afternoon time. The reasoning for my focus on this little mistake of technology is unclear to me at the moment. I usually would just wipe the thought out of my mind and focus on something else. But, this time I find the fact that something is clearly lying to me to be very infuriating. It isn’t necessarily the clock that I am upset with, nor is it my previous acts of laziness that have prohibited me from repairing the inaccuracy. It is more about the lies that I have dealt with on a day to day basis. The lack of trust and loyalty that I have felt brings chills and knots to my stomach. A rational thinking person would clearly identify that I am over analyzing this situation and using it to satisfy my need to be upset at something tangible.

 It seems to be that when I am angry, I will start to justify my     actions. I begin to think back to what he has told me since our first meeting over nine years ago. Was he also lying? Or is he the only one I can depend on? I feel in the pit of my stomach that nothing good could come from continuing on with a trusting relationship with him. It is true he has been there when no one else was in sight but he must have some sort of ulterior motive. Although, who is to say that, maybe I have been pushing the idea of becoming even closer to him away all this time and maybe that is why I have felt the heartache and pain that I have begun to recognize as an everyday part of my daily routine. I reassured myself with a very genuine head shake as I glanced at him resting once again in the leather wrapped passenger seat.

“ Yeah, all you needed to do is accept me as your only friend, and I can take away every bit of pain, you will no longer feel like the others,” whispered that very familiar raspy voice to my right.

I turned my head back to the road and began traveling again, this time I am merely one hour away from my destination. I felt a since of acceptance and a wave of confidence rush over me. I found myself seeing things slightly different now, yet I won’t read much into it, honestly I didn’t care. I have teased before with this feeling, it never last and must be constantly refilled. I no longer trust my own emotions and urges that come along with them. At least I could trust him. So now his ideas, which I once regarded as lies and propaganda, are engrained in me now. I recognize the importance of our partnership more than ever. We are partners, actually when you think about it we are a team.

         

Chapter Four

I find myself driving slower and slower as I get closer to my destination. I should be happy, but a part of me is scared to arrive at the place that I once called home. During my second deployment my wife and son moved back to Georgia with her parents since I would be getting out upon my return anyway. I am heading to my mothers’ house, I really don’t know what to expect, and I am contemplating whether or not I should go. I have to go though, I want to see my son, he is that little flickering fire that just won’t go out that keeps me afloat. I owe it to him to be strong and to get over whatever this is that I am going through.

I pulled into the neighborhood that I moved to at age twelve; I remembered it was a big move for us. We only moved one town over but they seemed like two different worlds. My mother had started from scratch a cleaning service that began to flourish. My father had been steadily working for a lumber company, and with the age of home computers coming our way, he began designing the companies’ website. At the time there was no child my age around, I changed schools and tried to occupy my time with basketball and fiddling with a Tyco video camera.

I began making various movies alone; my grandfather even gave me a title maker and an audio mixer. I was in business; well, as much “in business” as a twelve year old could be. As time went on I became alone with my thoughts to the point where it irritated me. That is when I first met him. He came in with a smile and a smooth type of talk that I had never heard before. I heard through a neighbor that he was from the next neighborhood over. It was nice to talk to someone that could understand certain things. He introduced me to all of his friends. He was nothing like he was now, and honestly, I liked him.

My attention was moved to the house that I grew up in during my latter years. I pulled up the hill and circled around the cul-de-sac and placed my car in park. Just above the front door there hung a banner that read “Welcome Home”. A rush of anticipation and anxiety flooded my veins as if I had been given a bad IV. I turned off the car and began to walk to the house. Suddenly a vibration comes from my right pocket. I stopped and pulled out my phone to read the text message. It read, “Welcome Back Buddy.” The message was from an unknown number, no reason to even question it. I decided around somewhere in South Carolina that it was best to leave my friend in the car upon my arrival, at least for a little while.

I began walking again and as I came closer to the door, it was if I was climbing a hill, and I am almost to the top. The same type of feelings flooded in such as anticipation which caused my body to move more quickly and reach my hand to the door knob. I opened the door and closed it behind me.

 For the first time in a long exhausting while, I felt pure happiness rush over my body. It filled every area and dark cavern in there. There he was, my son. He was smiling but looked a little shy. I gave him a quick hug then smoothly transitioned it into a backflip. He was very acrobatic for a three year old. All joking aside, this was peace, ultimate peace.

My mom brought in some snacks and something cold to drink. I grabbed the cold crisp bottle and popped off the top with my fresh newly purchased BIC liter. You know the one right, that one that has dices on it. I mean, it is a celebration; right. I turned up the bottle and I felt it enter me.

Another buzz that derived from my pocket turned my attention from the refreshment to a new message. “Welcome home, we got a lot of work to do, I got various pleasures and all the amenities in abundance, I mean more than you could possibly fathom. I prepared all this for your homecoming. Did anybody else? Like I said, don’t worry about that now, just sit back and relax, I’ll take it from here….You need a break…Right”, read the text message.

I swiftly walked over to the nearest window to glance at my plus one. I wasn’t surprised to find him not there.

“What are you looking at son?” questioned my mother.

“Nothing mom, let’s not worry about anything right now. Are the wings ready yet? I have been dreaming about these wings,” I lied.

The idea that I needed to sleep to even begin to have dreams was enough to escalate my smile to a higher level. Sleep has become a foreign object in my life. It worked for the situation though, so for now I am solo except for my pint sized partner.

         

              

Chapter Five

I find myself slowly opening my eyes to a bright halogen white light. Although I am now being blinded at the shockingly bright illumination, my body was first awakened by the ice cold concrete flooring. I start to look around the seemingly empty room to gain some evidence that may offer an answer to where I am located. While still lying pretty much flat, except for my lower body instinctively moving closer to my upper one; in the attempt to gather some warmth, I glance around and I find that my first calculations were incorrect, I am not alone. Besides the stand alone toilet in the back corner, and the empty plain light brown bench, there is a man balled up in a similar fashion that I found myself in. The significant difference is that he seems to have found his comfort point and seems to be fast asleep. His knees are tucked into his stretched out t-shirt and his arms are hidden away in the same tattered piece of clothing. His foot-gear is dirty running shoes that seem to be missing something. The usually tied tight style of footwear is without the device that would normally keep it in everyday form. Simply put, his shoe laces are missing. In my attempt to gather my thoughts and composure I had not realized that my shoes are just as odd as the strangers.

          At once I was trying to balance being incoherent and that strange feeling of fear slipping down my back. I sat up as fast as I possibly could while being in such an uncomfortable situation. While standing up I moved a little too fast for my body’s condition and slipped right out of one of my obviously impractical tennis shoes. I regained my balance and approached the large window; I was attempting to guess where I was and how I had ended up here. I searched through the files in my mind for any evidence of memory that would implicate the reasoning for my presence here. It was a futile attempt; there was no memory to find. I got right up to the window and I saw the image that I feared to be real, and had known in the back of my head since my eyes first noticed the cold ground that I was   laying on.

I was obviously in some jail, not exactly sure which one. I quickly turned around and went to the empty bench and sat down. I thought of waking up the stranger napping in the corner, but imagining how hard it must have been to get in such a comfortable slumber, I quickly threw that thought out my head.

 I began to rack my brain to try to find anything in my mind. There was once again nothing. Also there seemed to be something strange, the normal thoughts that ran through my mind on a regular basis were silenced. There was nothing but cold quietness, a since of loneliness, something that I have not felt in quite a long time. It felt something like abandonment if only    abandonment had such a tangible feeling.

I was in the dark, which seemed ridiculous since I found myself smack-dab in the middle of the suns’ rays. Panic began to flood over my body. I wondered what I could have possibly done to find myself in such a place. I quickly pushed the panic out of my head only to replace it with anger. I had put my faith and trust in him only for him to lead me into the    darkness and drop me off. How long I have been here, I wondered.

 A growing thirst crept up on me and I began to shake. I was unaware whether it was the cold of the room or the despair in my chest. Whatever the reasoning may be, I contemplated the worst possible reason for my arrival here. What had he led me to do, where did he lead me and why did I follow? Why was I so stupid to believe in him, when he constantly warned me not to trust anyone? Was it all a lie? Then a strange thought entered my mind, maybe he is testing me, maybe he is seeing if I would turn my back on him when things got bad.

               That had to be it. I cannot truthfully say if I believed that; or if I simply wanted to. I decided that the best solution was for me to mimic the man in the corner and attempt to sleep away this nightmare. I curled up in a mirrored image of my roommate and closed my eyes harshly as if to darken the brightness of the room. I surprisingly slipped away into a deep sleep rather quickly.

          The man in the corner quickly woke up and turned around and stood up. His facial expression was the complete opposite of mine compared to my awakening. He stood there looking down at me, with a sort of a smirk. My eyes slowly opened as I peeked out. I came out of my deep sleep because I had that sudden feeling that someone was watching me. The feeling is indescribable, the ability for your body to recognize that tingling on the back of your neck as either danger or excitement is incredible. My body at this point could not interpret the feeling as one or the other. I am in a type of movement lacking state of being at this moment. I looked up at this strange man as he looked down on me, suddenly the silence that had taken over my mind had fled and those old recognizable internal conversations had returned. Although my body is undergoing such a transition I find myself in a place that allows no movement or sound.  

The feeling was eerie, yet provided that comfort that I had become so accustomed to over the past couple of years was indeed back. I found myself knowing that I should not follow this feeling. Although in my heart I knew it to be the wrong choice, I never wanted to feel that abandonment again, and no matter what I had to do I would not abandon that desire. Although I am looking right at him, he has such a non- descript face that I would never be able to identify him past this point in time. As he began to speak I found myself back in the darkness. The only recognizable thing around me was that very familiar voice. What he was saying wasn’t that important to me, it was the idea that he was talking to me again. I wasn’t sure who this man was but I felt a connection with him. That alone was enough for me to except his truth. One statement did resonate with me though; I will surely remember it forever.

          “I had to be sure; I have given my friendship to many people, many turned out to be not very loyal. I had to be sure. Some people are very weak and leave me at the first sign of indifference. The problem I encounter is that a lot of the propaganda going around has the ability to influence so many, so many to the point that it is becoming difficult to find good help. Now that I have tested your loyalty, I will never leave you again. This I promise you,” ranted the raspy man from the corner.

          I awoke to find myself laying in the comfort of my own bed. I began to ponder what it was I just encountered, but a since of security wrapped around body and the idea that this type of insurance will not expire nor run out quickly killed any thought of questioning it. 

Chapter Six

I find myself driving down that ever familiar road, that one that I have become so close to, it was almost embedded into the simple sequences of my daily activities. The road would lead me to a juncture of train tracks and buildings riddled with the writings of the local youth. I passed many condemned buildings, the type of structures that are the source of many unsolved mysteries, on my way to the destination that is just as familiar as that light brown birthmark on my left hand. I reminded myself that this was the only option, this was the only way I could stop him. The only defense is to give in. I wasn’t sure if I was presenting a Trojan horse to him or if I was sincere in my submission.

 There was no coming back, I have already passed that invisible line, the moment was when I took what I needed to achieve to be in the position that I am in now.  I circled around the deserted parking lot that was once a home to the neighborhood park. The funds were no longer there so the city sold the land to a private investor. I drove my vehicle to the parking spot that might as well be named after me since I use it all the time. The idea that the city would even pay attention to this parking lot under the 285 junction bridge caused me to chuckle a bit. The thought that this part of the land would even get some sort of name or some recognition of the elected officials is quite ridiculous.

 The fact that somewhere between four and nine forced sexual acts have occurred in this location over the past couple of months had become clear to me after looking up something on the internet when I came across the news banner. This led me to believe that there must be some sort of calamity for the world, better yet my community, to react. Not to mention the various violent crimes that are committed in and around this location, the fact that this area is pushed aside is somewhat discouraging.

Although morally, I am opposed to even entering to this gateway of the unknown, because by entering I am giving it power, I felt deeply inside of me that I should still push forward to complete this transaction. The importance of the completion of the mission is beyond my level of thinking. All I know is, if I fail, I will sink to the bottom of the unknown and I will have to go through the mechanism all over again. I have been warned with extreme caution, and I accepted the risk.

          I exited my car and I took with me with the warnings of the world and the cloak of paranoia that has become my everyday outfit. I stepped out of my SUV and stumbled over a pair of converse tennis shoes that seemed to have belonged to a young boy.

  I brushed off the shoes and started my walk to the spot that encompasses everything that is wrong with the world. From the dusty children toys, that are spread over the middle of the entry point, to the strung out man in the corner that finds him-self embracing the warmth of the earth, it seems that this location has become a haven for absurd activities.

Needless to say, I was aware of these outside influences. I chose to exclude myself and simply get in and get out. As I approached the anticipated destination ,I became eager, a feeling of excitement ran through my body. I knew I was in the wrong, yet I had become so submerged in the euphoria that came from the possibility that this is the last time. The feeling of “one more time” always crossed my mind, yet he always stated very clearly, “We will see”. That area of doubt was just enough. I needed this, there was no alternate route, or a detour to the destination, the pathway to the top is paved with the broken dreams of fellow citizens. I put the idealistic thoughts out of my mind and continued to walk towards the only important issue in my life.

 I stepped up to a risen concrete plateau, and there he was, standing as casually as he could while he leaned towards the darkened part of the wall. His eye catches mine and signals with his hands to come forward. I haven’t seen him in person since the day of my return. Now, I have never been one to hang out too long, so I approached him with a business mentality. He recognized it as quickly as I had changed my persona.     

“Hey what’s up man, why you coming’ up here with that false since of confidence. You know better than that, but no worries, I got all the confidence you need right here. Don’t be one of them, the ones that think they could even make it around the corner without me, “said the overdressed man leaning against the wall.

I shrugged and said ,”Hey I got other things besides you, I am making moves, things are looking up, who knows, maybe in a couple of months I won’t even need you.”

Suddenly the members’ only jacket wearing man was accelerating towards me, and then he stopped just a few inches away from my face. My body was frozen, the only internal feeling I got was the transporters for the brains’ activities cheering as if they have been craving for a break. They had recently been invaded by a different management company and their SOP (standard operating procedures) has been drastically changed in the manor that certain jobs were let go.

          He began to speak, “now, I want you to listen, very closely, if you ever come here with that smug look on your face again, I will manipulate your family to the point where you won’t know who is who. Another thing, you would never have a name on a parking space, you are a dime a dozen, all it takes to get you is a slick tongue and a cool breeze. So, don’t you ever get too big for your bridges boy, and remember who brought you to this point in your life. If I would have not have stepped in you would be buried in some veterans cemetery. Another lost soul right? Not quite, you were somewhat of a challenge at first. But, in the long run you are just another notch on my belt.”

                    I took my product and began to walk back to my car. I felt his eyes piercing through the back of my head. I started to walk rather quickly, I found myself immersed in enjoyment. Although I had suffered through the embarrassment and ridicule by him I knew that what I was getting is well worth it. I would be able to forget everything and not have to imagine what could have been at least for a couple of days. I opened my car door and hopped in.

          I sat quietly for a moment while staring at the man in the corner going into seizures which may be either withdrawals or death taking over. Either way it won’t end up well. I place my keys in the ignition and start the vehicle. The vibration of the engine nearly knocked me out of my zombie state, yet it wasn’t enough to interfere with my next move.   

Chapter Seven

That next morning I awoke in a somewhat irritated fashion. I recognized that I had been sleeping for almost a day and a half. Why had they not woken me up? They probably thought I needed the recovery time, because the long trip and all. Either way, I am well rested and ready to face the day. I walk out of my room and slide into the slippers that are located   outside the doorway. I traveled up the stairs with a motivated mentality. I was thirsty and I needed a drink, something cold and refreshing. I walked up the final stairs and I noticed my cell phone had a voicemail on it. I picked it up as I circled around the living room to grab the remote and sit down on the couch. The voicemail was from an old friend that wanted to meet up. My mind already switches gears to get up and get out. I get up immediately to go to get ready. I moved so quickly that I nearly tripped over a large manila envelope that must have fallen off the ledge at a previous time. I kneeled to pick up the object to merely return it to its spot when I noticed it was addressed to me. I slowly sat down and began tearing the edges to get to this mystery packet. I hoped it was the information I needed to set up some benefits of mine.

 During all this excitement I failed to even slightly glance at the senders address. Going back now would mean a failure. I finally yanked the entire manual out. As I used my next tool to recognize that it is no report at all. Well, report is not the usual branding for this type of document, but it is a report on something, a final report sort of speak. My wife had filed for    divorce and these were the terms and conditions. She even wrote a note on the bottom of the envelope. The harshness of her words prevents me from even repeating them. Let us simply presume that she stated pointless attempts to lighten the blow.

          I found myself starting to shut down. I was just going to leave, and I would deal with this later. Maybe this weekend I can begin to approach the task of reading it. Either way, I was out of the door within five minutes.  

          I jumped in my car and activated the ignition. I was reversing with a since of purpose. I must get somewhere. I need to go where people are. Who knows what I will do when I am alone? The fear of that outcome drove me to a town slightly passed the normal distance that friends travel. I was heading to a different world sort of speak. These people were positive yet going through there-own struggles. I arrived at the bar in a ridiculous get up that I put together from clothes purchased from “Goodwill”. The drinks were flowing very nicely at first.

After I enjoyed the first round of drinks I began to make my way to the far end of the bar. I wanted to get a spot where I was able to view the entire establishment. I landed in a spot right next to an older gentleman. He looked as if he had chosen the spot so he would not be bothered. I decided to respect his request, but internally I had already decided that I would initiate conversation once I had reached a certain point. The point I am talking about is described by a certain number of drinks. Or some reason I felt I needed to talk to the quiet man at the end of the bar. Maybe, whatever we would talk about wouldn’t affect me but might offer him some relief. I bided my time and I sipped my second drink rather slowly. I closely watched his habits’, he was definitely a beer drinker. He was solid in his drink decisions’, it was always a tall pint of the house draft.

As time went on, he drank steadily and did not waiver from this routine. I pulled out a cigarette and pulled it close to my mouth as I simultaneously struck a match to ignite it. While doing this I had lost sight of my target. By the time I had reacquired him I noticed that he had switched up his routine suddenly. He was now sipping a whiskey-straight. I decided it was time I moved in for a conversation.

I closed the distance between us by simply sliding one chair over. His attention was directed to the bottom of his glass. I felt slightly inhibited as I approached the conversation with the stranger. Some do not take the kindness of strangers with ease. Some go into defense mode rather quickly when approached. I pushed the uneasiness aside and spoke.

“Excuse me sir, can you pass me the ash tray beside you?”

I felt a generic conversation starter would be the best way to start. This way there was a reason for me to start talking other than just my curiosity.

“Yeah, here you go,” responded the older gentleman.

I closely examined his facial expression as he responded. I was searching for any type of light in his face. I was looking for any hope in his body language, the type of language that initiates further conversation. There was a slight glimmer in his right eye as he passed me the glass ash tray. This was all I needed for me to continue.

“So, you come here a lot?”

His head didn’t budge. He remained focused in his own world. I pondered whether I should cut my losses and give up or just maybe he has become so accustomed to a lonely world that he does not easily recognize a conversation starter. So I took another sip from my drink to gain a little bit more confidence.

“Hey, excuse me sir, do you come here often?”

“Oh, sorry, umm yeah I guess so. Why?” responded the man.

“I’m just wondering if the wings are any good. You never can tell these days. I am pretty serious about my wings; and I want to negate any future freak out by myself if I am disappointed. So what do you think? Should I risk it?”

“There alright I guess,” stated the man unenthusiastically.

I definitely failed in my attempt to grab any sort of excitement from the man. I went back and forth in my mind whether or not I should continue to poke, or should I retract my conversation attempt. I have been in that mode as well, I am not sure if I would want someone to approach me persistently. At this moment his feelings and his perspective were not top on my list of concerns.

“ Where are you from, if you don’t mind me asking?”

He looked at me with a blank stare, I could tell that he was unsure on how to respond. It wasn’t because he didn’t know how to answer, it was clear he was solid in his persona. He was definitely not one to be shy, but definitely was not one to seek out interaction. His eyes told a story that is much more descriptive than any shallow conversation could achieve with a stranger at a bar. I could tell he was trying to determine the sincerity in my question. I tried my best not to waiver in my confidence, I directed my eyes at his. Although I did not want to seem intimidating, I also did not want to show weakness. He was the type of man that can see through certain intangible weaknesses.

“Well, that is a long winded answer son, I guess it is best just to say that I have been around. I have seen the city lights through the darkest nights; and I have witnessed the sunrise over the horizons of many country-sides. I guess it is fair to say that I am from everywhere yet I really don’t have a home. I mean, not in the normal definition that is,” confidently stated the older man.

“I can accept that, I understand the mentality. I have been around a lot lately myself. I too have found it harder and harder to clearly define what and where is home. I never looked at it in such a positive way before. I always thought of it as a feeling of loss. Instead I guess it is merely an opportunity to experience more.”

“Well, in my fifty- five years I have learned three things. I have gathered more information, sure. But, three things have truly resonating with me. I feel it is better this way, I don’t have sift through very many files to get to my reference pages,” said the man.

  “Would you be willing to share those with me?”

“I can’t do that. Don’t take it personal kid. I just feel every man has to figure those three things out for himself. Besides, your three things might be different. God has placed those gems sporadically throughout our lives. It is on us to find them, once we do, I feel he calls us home. I have recently found my third one, hopefully I’ll be home soon,” said the man.

My eyes left the man to my left and began to focus on the bottom of my own drink. The man was talking about life’s greatest test. He put the meaning of life so simply. I took another sip of my drink, and then I took another one to finish it off. I looked to the left and realized that the older gentleman had left. He must have gotten up while I was chugging my drink down.

I got up and walked to the busy side of the bar which mirrored my original seat. You could tell the crowd that I encountered was a little shaky. Everybody acted like they didn’t know me. It was true that some didn’t, but those that did, weren’t giving their usual friend welcome. I shook it off and attempted to mask this insecurity with alcohol. Shots were ordered followed by a bulk beer purchase. The night was only beginning.

          An hour passed and I found myself looking at the time with a purpose. I decided it was time to get ready to leave; I wanted to get home early.

The bill came and I was short five dollars. I went to the ATM and withdrew another 100.00 dollars so I wouldn't have to go tomorrow. It was a good plan I thought. I paid the tab and looked at my new wad of money. I decided that I could have a couple more drinks. The consequences of this action contributed to the destruction of everything.

          Two hours passed this time. I decide once again to leave. One, because they already played my jam, and the number two reason has to be, that there was definitely a bad vibe circling towards me.

          I exited the bar without saying goodbye. I begin walking to where I felt I parked my car. I am now starting to understand the concept of speed bumps better than ever before. As I waddle my way to the car I have become aware that all speed bumps have that one spot; that you always will forever jam your toe, in no matter what your defense is.  This is that type of ridiculous thought that got me in this type of situation in the first place.  I made my way closer to the tan SUV parked right next to a green caravan. I remembered the neighbor vehicle because the woman that stepped out of the van was wonderful beyond description.

               She had a child, a little boy; he had to be either 3 or 4 years old. The mother was glowing with confidence and her tight fitted jeans sparkled in the lighting of the underground parking lot. I used this as a memory tool to guide myself to the vehicle. I made it to the region in which my car was kept. I unlocked the door and suddenly I have been given the responsibility to get home safely. I know that this is a bad decision, but at the time, I felt it was going to be a challenge, and what were my other options.

          “Listen you bum, I got it, I am sick of you wining all the time. I thought you were bigger than that. At least you will be better than that. Now you just chill, since you’re incapable of providing any help to a simple daily task, I will take it from here. I rarely get shocked at the success of my products. With you, they really went to work, didn’t they? Well, just sit back and relax, and enjoy the ride”, said my partner. He had emerged from behind the car.

 The large tan SUV was heading down the trail that directed us to his home. The windy roads seemed no problem for this autopilot form of driving. The darkness was, for once, affecting the current management in a negative way. I have never seen him this weak before.  This was defiantly a big deal. The overwhelming evidence that autopilot must be aborted is quite evident at this point.

Then the autopilot instantly shuts off, but it was not the only change in the picture. The vehicle itself had actually quit on the mission. There was no more fuel, and the vehicle must have had deep seeded guilt after the end of it all. As I slowly rolled towards a stop, I turned the tires slightly to the right and left at a medium pace. I was attempting to gain speed so I may get further down the road. The annoyance had got to me to the point where I felt instinctively to grab a cigarette. I reached my right hand down next to my seat to rifle through the spare change and hopefully find that almost empty pack of nicotine sticks. I feel the corner of the box and I immediately got excited, so I directed my full attention to this adventure.  Success, I reached my index finger to capture the pack, I hooked it and I rose up.

          What I found on the surface was nothing but two racing illuminations that happened to be at an extremely close distance. Then darkness fell……..     

Part II

 The Interview

Chapter 1

          I find myself walking up wooden stairs that leads to a trailer of sorts. As soon as I enter the before mentioned trailer I am immediately directed to sign in. The lady at the desk gave me a smirk as she read my name. I was told to go sit down in the waiting area. I walked around the corner to the right and examined the many postings on the wall. The ones that instill certain phrases that would be misconstrued by some as powerful or heart touching. I emerged myself in the basic flyers that read very simply and straight forward as follows, “don’t kill yourself, and don’t beat your spouse’. I continued to walk around the seemingly larger trailer that seemed quite smaller from the outside. I made my way to the waiting room. It wasn’t very elaborate, actually it was quite plain. The chairs were filled with mostly older gentleman. I am guessing that they are from the Vietnam Era. The rapid increase of drugs that came into the United States during this era affected not only the soldiers, but their families and their community as well. These men were in their mid-fifties and were wearing the uniform of a homeless person, or at least the tattered clothing that is assumed by most to represent this. Their facial expressions screamed despair and put out a feeling that they had nowhere to go. This is not a new image. I have become accustomed to recognizing the down and out crowd. The fact that this is still an issue furthers the idea that states our countries inability to provide compassion to one another.

          I found myself quickly distracted by a middle-aged women bringing coffee into the room. She possessed an aura that felt a lot like happiness, the type of happiness which led me to believe that either she had a great night sleep or she was genuinely elated with her life. I have become familiar to this feeling myself, although more so than not it, followed the use of some substance that has been labeled negatively by society.

I stood up and walked to the table as if there was only a limited amount, and I had to get mine, then I stopped myself and slowed down and thought for a second.  I poured the first cup of coffee out of the fresh pot, but instead of slurping it down, I gave it to the older gentleman in the far back corner, who looked as if the walk was too far for him to accomplish. I honestly did not do this for his satisfaction but for mine. I feel good when I help people. So I am selfish in my own rite. Every time I go out of my way for someone else I hold on to the idea that little by little I can make up for the wrong I have done. This idea is ridiculous, for me to think something as simple as giving someone a cup of coffee could even puncture a whole in the large amount of negativity that I have filled in my life. It just reminds me how low I have gotten. Perhaps I am overanalyzing the situation, but at least I know that the coffee wasn’t poisoned. If it had been, the older gentleman would have already met his demise by now. So I felt confident as I slurped out of my Styrofoam cup, attempting to drink it without creating that face that everyone recognizes as too hot for me to handle. It wasn’t the best, but I wasn’t really a coffee drinker so it didn’t really matter. I started to wonder how long these people have been waiting for. It is not the fact that I am in some kind of hurry or anything. I am just wondered, how long a person with substance abuse problems would wait for help. I am searching for some since of standard. These must be the guys at the end of the line. They have seen things and done certain things that have given them the internal power and patience to wait. The wait for help is somewhat demeaning. You feel as if you should get in right away, maybe they don’t even care. I know that to be untrue, because the lack of resources they have and the amount of patients is overwhelming. They are doing the best they can with what they have. In this day and time, should we even begin to ask for help? I think not, and until my opinion changes I will stand firm in knowing that there is a lot of problems here.

          A woman walked half way into the room as if she didn’t want to fully commit to this area, but she wanted to check it out.

 “Mr. Burley”, said the in and out woman.

I stood up out of my chair and responded with a head nod and followed her down the hallway. I was lead into a room that was different than the other offices I had noticed along my stroll.

This one was decorated from head to toe with awards and certain accomplishments of its owner. There were pictures of his family put out in such a way that it may be perceived that he is bragging a bit. I tell myself that I am going to enter this appointment with an open mind. The woman directed me to a chair and quickly leaves as she shuts the door. The burgundy leather office chair that was facing the other way swiftly spins around to unveil an older gentleman with a smile on his face. 

          “Welcome, what is it, Mr. Burley, yes that’s it. Glad you could make it in this morning. I was starting to worry about you. But now that the shock and awe is over with, let us get down to business, shall we,” stated the slightly grey haired man.

          “What is your name again sir?” I questioned.

          “Why I feel hurt, I am Dr. Jack Williams. I felt that we have met before. Maybe while I was looking at your file I must have jumbled some memories. I apologize. We have not met yet, you just have a familiar face I guess,” The Dr. replied

I spat off a quick response, “No problem Doc, it happens to the best of us, I get that a lot.”

          Actually I had never encountered that problem before but it seemed the best way to shorten a shallow conversation. I slumped back down into my chair and began to observe the Dr. thumbing through my files. I pondered whether or not he was judging or simply taking in the information. I sat quietly and waited with anticipation for his opening remarks.

          “Well son, I see this is not the first time you have been here. I wonder if we somehow messed up your initial treatment. Also, I see that upon your arrival home you completed the required assessment. Your remarks on that one were encouraging. Did something change upon your return or were your previous statements merely made to quicken the process to get out. You can be honest. I have become very familiar with that disorder. I call it the impatient patient,” muttered off the Doc.

          I wasn’t quite sure if he was trying to make a joke, but as I studied his facial expression I came to the conclusion that he was being either dead serious or has become a very good actor while working in this profession.

“It is a disorder that affects many soldiers around your age. How is your family doing, you have a son correct? Is he old enough to recognize your recent self-destruction, and I mean that in the most sensitive way possible,” announced the Dr.

I thought about his words, I have been living in a sort of fog for quite a long time, I have come up for air occasionally and that question was there every time. But, just as quickly as it appears, it is strangled by him, the idea of clarity in my life or even living clear minded has become almost as much of a joke as that one tough guy that rides around in his hummer listening to Now That’s What I Call Music Vol 9. The image is funny enough to make me chuckle. As soon as I came out of my chuckle coma I recognized the picture of a man and a little boy on the desk and began to focus back on the conversation at hand.

“What were you thinking about just now” asked the Dr.

“Nothing, just zoning out,” I spurted off.

I found myself thinking again, I have realized that this question being silenced has brought me nothing but heartache. Slowly one by one, I have seen everything I held dear in my life, leave. It was almost as if there was a reality show on someone getting evicted and the show televises different people ransacking their household goods. I have been watching this show ever since I got back home. At first the items stayed intact and didn’t move. But, when the ratings started to decrease the producers wanted to up the ante. This is when there was a bum-rush on everything and everything was taken. I thought positively, maybe this was to show me, what really should define me. Morally and socially, I would like to be defined by the success of my son. With everything else gone in my life I have to focus on him. The curtains pulled back and he was all that was left. I have to make a change to make sure he makes it to where he wants to be.

“Hey I am here to talk to you and not to stare at that bewildered face of yours. I want you to complete something for me. I have this form that I make all my patients fill out; it gives me a foundation to work with. Just fill it out, and I will go take my 1950’s mandatory smoke break, when I return we shall truly begin,” Instructed the Dr.

Chapter 2

 They were not the repetitive generic questions that are usually rambled off. I answered rather quickly because most of them were dealing with issues that I myself have already come to terms with. Once I flipped over the page the audacity of some of the questions stopped me in my tracks. Mental tracks that is. I stumbled over a few questions but I completed the form with ease, I was just left with an uneasy feeling.

The fragile silence of the office was shattered by the almost urgent entrance of the Doctor. With him came an aura of anger and anticipation. The feelings flooded into the room and embedded themselves thus creating an unsatisfactory atmosphere.

“Hey, did you get that done for me? Let me see it,” stated the Dr.

I picked up the form and handed it to him. He grabbed it with his aged right hand. I notice that there is a difference in the appearance of both hands. The right seems worn and definitely shows the sign of a long journey traveled. The left must have either been more pampered or by chance has missed out on much of the trip. He held the thin sheet tightly as he scanned over document. His eyes were in a routine that were similar to the Atari game “Pong”. I can tell that he is an avid reader, or at least he is a very fast reader. It seemed only seconds after he grabbed the paper from my hand that he was placing it back on the desk. He had a look of intense thought. The type of look that ignites the wrinkles in your forehead to come to life.

“Mr. Burley, what is your general mood today?” questioned the Dr.

“Didn’t I just respond to that question on the paper?” I responded.

“Well, yes you did give a response, but you did not actually answer the question. I am asking how you actually feeling today, I am not asking you to provide me with some factory made bullshit answer. So think about it and let me hear it,” said the Dr.

“Alright, I feel…alright I guess,” I answered.

“Alright, you feel alright, you feel alright that you have lost your wife, you hardly see your son, and your family as a whole has lost all respect for you. All the respect you gained from your service is gone. When you were in Iraq, did you think upon your return that you would lose your car and house? Maybe you planned all this. Maybe you actually formulated a plan to step by step to destroy your life. Piece by piece; you just will throw it all away. Well, I believe you have made it. Congratulations, you have succeeded with taking every positive opportunity you had and simply flushed them away. I guess, you must have planned it, you had to. Because if this all happened as a surprise, then there is no way you could feel alright. Very clever, destroy your own life so no one else can, I suppose that is a good defense,” said the Dr.

“Listen, I don’t have to stay here for this, I know I have made mistakes. I am coming here for help, not to be judged by some douchebag that’s never been through anything,” I said angrily.

“So, you are here for help. Well; I guess the first step is to answer every question honestly, and furthermore understand that I have sat in that same chair that you are in today. I know the feelings you have piled up in that head, it is my job to help you to release those so that you may address them and move forward.”

“Well, I feel sad, guilty, angry. Honestly, I am feeling very depressed and I have a feeling of hopelessness. The type of hopelessness that is so deep in me, that I can’t scrape my way out of the hole. This creates the questions  in my mind. Such as, what is the point? Nobody would miss me. My son is better off. Basically, I just have lost all urge to live and I am gonna try this, but I have little confidence in others. So, what now, wanna tear apart that little spurt. Is that what you wanted to hear?” I ranted off.

“No, that is not what I wanted to hear but it is a start. I never want to hear that a person has lost all hope. Now we can start to take what you said and evaluate each part. Our intention is to get to the core of the issues. The main problem that anyone has always has a point of origin. So are you ready to begin?’ said the Dr.

“Yeah, I guess. Well, actually can I go to the bathroom really quick?” I asked.

“Sure, take five minutes, then we will continue,” said the Dr.

I stood up and quickly spun around to grab the door knob. I felt I could not get out of the room quick enough. I swung open the door and exited to the right to head down the hallway to the restroom. I am walking with my head down, I am attempting to mask the shame I feel. It feels like it is pouring out on my face, everybody in the office must know who I am and what I have done. I speed up my walking and finally reach the bathroom. I exploded through the door and locked it behind me. I need some alone time immediately. I need to get my head straight. I think I am bringing up certain things that have buried so deep that it causes physical pain. It hurts to the point that makes it almost impossible to even attempt to have them exhumed. I definitely will at least require more equipment to be able to finish the job. Hopefully the Dr. will have the proper tools available, or at least bring in a good sub-contractor.

I walked deeper into the restroom. I stopped once I reached the empty sink. I turned towards the mirror. I stared for a brief second then began to run the water. I scooped up a good portion of fluid and threw it at my face. I caught my reflection in the shiny silver spout, there was a look of despair. The kind of look, you know the kind of look that shows the truth to the feeling that I have been trying to hide from, but there it was, staring right at me. I then turned my head to face the bottom of the sink as the water dripped from my face to the ceramic base. With each drop leaving my face I felt a little bit more relieved than I did the previous moment. The faucet continued to flow, with each gaining moment of running water I felt a since of reassurance. A feeling that is obviously false yet I am seeking any sign of comfort, whether it is real, or not.

The sound of a toilet flushing shook me out of my internal thought. The stall door swung open to unveil a dark haired man with a thick nicely trimmed beard. He took a step out of the stall and through the mirror I saw a clear image of him.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“I knew you’d be here, and I figured I’d give you a ride,” said the bearded gentleman.

I am now no longer in a slouch position over the sink, I am standing straight up. I turn to face him.

“No, I don’t need a ride. I’m gonna catch the bus.”

“Alright, just thought I would check, haven’t seen you lately, and I wanted to know how you were doing.”

“Well, I am fine. I gotta get back though, so I ‘ll see you around.”

“Alright, just remember, don’t swallow everything they feed you. Some of it may look real pretty, but it ain't worth nothing. So filter that information and sort it out later. I’ll be around your area later, maybe I’ll swing by.”

“No, that won’t be good, it’s a family night. Maybe some other time. I gotta go.”

I pushed aside everything he just said and moved it towards the back of the storage facility. I grabbed the door handle and pulled the door open and swiftly exited the bathroom. I began walking down the hallway back towards the office. Every step grew longer apart than the last.  

“Oh, can’t fit me in when everything is going right. But sure as shit you will be calling me again once it gets worse again. And you know it, it always does. It’s a cycle right, man. It rotates from good to rock bottom. The key is to enhance those good moments so that it out-weighs the negative ones,” spouted out the disgruntled friend.

I stood still for a while, I was contemplating how I should respond. Before I knew, the feeling of rage had filled up before I had a productive outlet picked out. So I spun around and spoke freely.

“Listen man, yeah you were there when things were bad, but if I remember correctly, I was brought down to that sub- par point by you. Or at least because of you. So maybe you gave me the false notion of better times ahead, but right before any of them would ever occur you interfered to the point of destruction. So I don’t wanna hear your “pity me” speech. Just stay the fuck away from me.”

My breath shortened as my neck was coven in by a squeezing hand. My once good friend had swung his hand so fast that I was unable to defend or block the attack. It had gotten to the point where his full body weight came flowing through that squeezing hand and into my neck, then throat. I instinctively threw my hands up to attempt to peel away his fingers. Both hands were working in overload.

“Hey, yall stop that now. Daniel, get in here now!” yelled the Dr. from down the hall.

My throat quickly inflated with the release of the tight grip that previously resided there. My friend quickly recoiled back to the bathroom. I turned around and attempted to regain my composure. My stomach is swirling, I am not looking forward to this next part of the session. Then I remembered it’s just a Dr., not my boss. So I release the tension in my shoulders and expressed my walk a little bit more comfortably.

“Sorry about that,” I said as I slid in the door way.

I sat down and got ready for what had to be a very interesting session.

Chapter Three

The click- clack that represents the opening of a briefcase was the noise that indicated that we are about to begin. We have sat in silence for the past five minutes. Now he is intently staring at me. I know he is going over in his mind whether or not to address the previous altercation.

“Who was that?” asked the Dr.

“Nobody, just an old friend, I apologize, that was not a good scene out there. We’re going through a phasing out period. He freaks out when I bring attention to that. He really does not understand that I want nothing to do with him.”

“Is that true? Are you ready to throw away a long term friendship?”

“Listen, I have gone over and over in my head, the outcome is always the same. I will miss him but, then again I don’t want to be around him or even operate in similar capacities. You see, we became friends a long time ago. There was a weakness in me at that time, and he helped me with that. I never thought that I would be here nine years later in some douchebags’ office talking about how I met my first best friend, no disrespect intended.”

“None taken, I see that this is a rough subject. We should dive deep into this issue. But, before we do that we must talk about some other things first. We will come back to your best friend issue later. Maybe then you will have some perspective, and will be able to handle the sensitive nature of your relationship.”

“Ok, so, what do you wanna talk about now.”

“Tell me about your family. How did you grow up? What was the family dynamic like?”

“Well, it was just me and my mom. I mean, my dad was there till my sophomore year in high school. But the last couple years he was there, he really wasn’t there, you know what I mean.”

“You are saying that he left a lot, there wasn’t consistency in his presence.”

“No, he was there every day, but around seven o’clock he emerged into a zombie like sleep. At the time I did not know what it was. I had no way of knowing. I figured he was just tired from work. So as time went on, him and my mother began fighting more and more. I didn’t really give a damn, but it did help me to go out more. This is around the same time I met my friend. I was playing basketball one day by myself on the goal that my mother had worked so hard to get. Let me set it up for you; there was no children in this neighborhood, that were any age close to mine. So I would shoot for hours listening to the radio. We had moved in recently, so recently that I had no friends to play with. I mean, I talked to people in school, but I didn’t know anybody to the point that they would come over to my house. I tried to hold on to the relationships I had formed at our previous residence. But as time grew, the distance went from being a respected adversary to a too big for his bridges champion. Needless to say that first summer was the worst. I attempted everything I could to occupy my time. It felt the world was circling around me at a much more rapid pace than I was moving. Then, one day while I was at my house playing ball he walked onto the grass that before has felt no foreign touch. He introduced himself, then he said he had just moved into the neighborhood across from mine. We hit it off at first. We had a lot in common. That summer ended up being pretty good, I went to school the next year a whole different person.”

“What do you mean by a whole different person?”

“I mean what I said, a whole different person. I felt as if I had someone there for me. I had a bond. The confidence helped with many aspects in my life. I met more people that I would have never had talked to before. We hung out almost every day, shit, if we weren’t together we were planning something to do. We had the same taste in girls and pretty much everything else.”

“See, this is really important, I asked you about your family and you resorted back to the story about your friend.”

“Well I guess because for that time period he was my family. He was always there. Actually, as I look back, he was the only one. The only one that was there. He stayed when they left. And when the street lights came on, he was still able to play. So you ask me about my family. This is my family. It is a different dynamic, but all in all it is my family. I gotta mom that works all the time, a dad that places himself in self-induced comas every night and a friend that was always there. So no, I won’t just brush it aside till later. This is an issue that I want to talk about now. Do you get that Dr. Is that registering with you.”

“It registers alright, and I’m glad you are being so open with it. The funny thing is that me and you are not that different. I had a friend that sounds a lot like yours. My family dynamic was just as colorful as yours. So before you pre judge me, why don’t you listen. I met my friend around the age of thirteen. I was walking through the woods. There was this old creek that I used to follow. I still too this day, do not know why, or what my intentions were. I knew where the creek led, the street passed right by it. The difference of seeing it beside the water itself gave it a different dimension. I felt I would find something. I guess, I was searching, but was unaware of where my conquest would lead me. I didn’t even know what to look for. So, I just walked, skipped over the big rocks in the middle of the creek so that I could cross. I had to cross you see, because there was a patch of nasty thorns that I had gotten caught up in the day before. I decided today that I would cross a little bit earlier, once I got onto that side I realized a different path. I’m thirteen mind you, and this was before the times of video games , so this was of Napoleon proportion at that time.”

“Are you gonna get to the point, or are you gonna start showing me some scrap books you made because you didn’t have T.V. Did you learn how to sew too? I bet you did, you probably knitted, pretty little pictures for mom.”

The Dr. promptly throws his right hand into the air in an attempt to make a steady line. His hand began shaking, uncontrollably it seemed.

“What are you doing Doc?” I asked

“I never had the patience or the steady hand for sewing. So that hobby was out, and the point is coming very soon. Patience Daniel, if you take anything away from this session please take some idea of patience. It will come in handy down the road, I guarantee it. So where was I? Oh yeah, I was going through the new pathway. I had to struggle my way through the bushes, but what emerged on the other side was well worth it. It was a giant dirt field. There was a lake in the center of it. This field looked as if it had not been touched. I felt like Christopher Columbus, which is funny because we both thought we discovered a new land and that we didn’t. But, please excuse me, that is an inside joke I have with myself. So, I walked to get a better view of the land that I would claim as mine, at least for that summer. That is when I saw him, he was sitting on a dirt hill, the sun was just about to set, and you could tell he was awaiting the darkness. I could tell he relished in the beauty of the departure of the sun, but there was something else intriguing about him. I stood completely still for a couple of minutes deciding whether or not I would say hello. I didn’t want to ruin his moment.”

“So you just stood there, staring at him. What the fuck man, that’s wild. I’m sorry, I tried to give you a pass, but there is no way around it.”

“What would you have done, if placed in that exact same situation?”

“Well, I would probably would approach him and try to make a move right as the sun sets.”

“What”

“I’m just fuckin with you, I would have said hello.”

 “Everything is so simple in your world isn’t it. Anyway, so I took one more look at the pathway for which I came, then I turned my attention to the staring eyes of a stranger. He had noticed my arrival. That is when we met, and after that, we had a long twenty year friendship.”

“Twenty years, and no more, what happened?”

“Well that is something that I talk about with my psychiatrist and not one of my patients.”

“Oh, touchy subject I see. What, did he try to seduce your wife while you were overseas? Did he approach her with that old helpful friend persona.

“We just grew apart, that is it. It is time for a break. I will take five minutes and I will return. In that time I want you to think about ways to enhance a conversation without derogatory remarks.”

“Ok Dr., I shall try my fucking hardest to enhance my vocabulary, so I don’t offend you, but you must understand that a word can be put out there, yes out there, among people without harming anyone. Take the power away. It is that simple.

“Thank you for your microwave philosophy, I will see you in five minutes. Go stretch, get some air. I shall see you shortly.”

Chapter Four

Walking outside I noticed that the sun had made quite a move since my last exit through the back door. This session was lasting longer than expected. I still haven’t decided if I should truly release my demons to this stranger. Is he truly ready to unearth the darkness within, needless to say, I am not yet sure I am. I have been giving him a hard time, but honestly I know he was a genuinely good guy. I had a way of spotting those types. It is the same way a gay guy can spot one of his own. They just know. For a while, my radar was slightly off though. The reasoning had to be because I was not operating in the normal realm of a “good guy”. I had slipped, shit, I had completely fallen. Thus, I had no perspective of what a morally prudent person was. I had no example, unlike others who looked up to someone as their guide, instead I set my own example. The problem was, at a certain point, still not sure exactly when, the lines became blurred. Then there was no line at all. I guess I am here to pin-point that moment, so I am not doomed to repeat it. That seems easy enough, people do it all the time. Redemption is possible, it just takes a special type of person. A person, who I feel must have some recognition of a higher power. Because, if you don’t except that something or someone is higher than you on a spiritual level, than you will be stuck in a cycle of destruction trying to reach your own personal standard of greatness.

          I glance at the enlarged minute hand on my watch. Before I could even confront the urge to get back inside in a respectable time or let him sweat, I had to address the issue that my timepiece was the watch equivalent to the senior citizens’ phones that are usually advertised in AARP magazine. That is the magazine that shows an elderly lady at the Grand Canyon in her motorized scooter screaming her oversized heart out that she can now go anywhere thanks to her “Smart Rascal”. Either way, the watch has an extremely large minute hand. It is slightly absurd actually. I don’t ever wear a watch, the pure irritation of having  something dangling in such a loose fashion is almost enough to have a “Falling Down” moment. Slightly exaggerated is my response to this strangely abnormal accessory, but I stand firm in the idea that I rarely if ever wear something that is regarded as “extra” clothing. If I could, I would I simply wear flip flop with socks, basketball shorts and maybe a big hoody at every possible moment. I have that nagging feeling of insecurity every time I am not in my normal uniform. It is kind of like Superman wearing…well, wearing what I like to wear. So in a round- about way, I am the bizarre world version of Superman. Maybe with less power, but maybe that is what is different. But, everything else is still the same. That still counts right?

I stopped dead in mental tracks when I realized that I had just tried to argue a point to myself. I am used to communicating within my own mental realm, but this is different.

The building door swung open as I lunged through it. I was seeking some social contact soon. As I walk down the hall way I start to find my head is in quite a daze. The ceiling is seemingly much wider than the floor and the walls are most definitely having stones skipped over them as they ripple. As I continue my twenty foot journey back to the office every step grows harder and harder to achieve. My mind is no longer the home of the state fair where there is a wide variety of absurdity. It is now a primal machine trying to cope with the extremes of the environment. Survival mode is kicking in, with every swing of my leg brings with it an idea of hope. Suddenly after that flood of feeling the aftermath of the successful step drags behind it the notion of hopelessness. I reached towards the life raft that was reincarnated as the office door knob, success rained over with me. It was shortly followed with shame, the idea that my brain would send reward sensors throughout my body was truly starting to disgust me. I pushed the normal battle of self-worth and despair aside as I attempted to enter the gateway to freedom. The short walk down the strangely well-furnished hallway had turned into a task that may only be mirrored by the act of building a rail road. I succeeded in the turn-click mission and the door began to swing open under the direst of my body weight. I leaned forward, as my eyes panned past the door frame, which felt like a soft putty within my weakening grip, I locked eyes with the owner of the office, his eyes were brimming with what resembled pride. The reasoning, which was as bizarre as the illusions and body changes I had begun feeling, matched the lost expression that had engulfed my previously confident description. My left foot suddenly went numb and collapsed beneath my body and just like a set of dominoes, my remaining members literally fell at the waist side. My bottom lip began to have some sort of adhesive between itself and the plush red carpet. My eyes rolled half way to the back of my head just to the point that they were in the premier seating to witness the owner slowly walking towards me. He had a different glow about him. He was grinning, which activated similar sensors that were in affect earlier, but this time they started at the base of my spine and shot up just below my shoulder blades. The slight sting found its home in the very center of my back and caused my heels and head to simultaneously reached toward the mirrored ceiling. The rest of my body was at a complete stand-still. As I stared into my very own eyes at the difficult to comprehend body pose, I found myself entranced at the sight of the bright aqua blue in my eyes. I no longer felt any discomfort in my body, the pain that had been so deeply resonated within my core had seemingly been wiped away in an instance. The closest comparison is the greatest high I have ever had, but the truth is that this is much greater than any human can possibly fathom. I started to wish for this feeling to last forever, utter ecstasy was the feeling I was drowning in now.

With one movement of the owners right hand directed my body to straighten out, only I was not flat on the floor. The ecstasy was gone, the old feeling started to return. Just as my body was in transition of handling these sort of changes, I was thrown towards the opposite wall where I crashed into a painting that was planted directly above where the owners’ chair had resonated. The carpet was not plush at all, as I slammed into it at what seemed to be at a revolutionary speed. The cold of the ground woke me up out of the strange slumber that I had found my body in during the later chapters of my journey. My palms flattened on the now cement flooring. My eyes shot up to survey what now seemed to be some sort of interrogation room. Confusion completely took over my body and I was at the complete mercy of this bewildering event.

My stomach suddenly started to concave and with that came with it a few cracking sounds that had to be the sound snapping ribs. There was pain, but it was different. The strangeness had my thoughts in a whirlwind until, as if I had reached the eye, it stopped all together. Pure silence.

“Get the fuck up now,” said the tall man.

  Was this the same man that had asked introspective questions about my life, and the family that circled around it? I stayed on the ground as I stared at the man, he looked familiar, but I could not place the face. It was strange. How could I not recognize the man who I had been sitting face-to-face with for more than an hour merely thirty minutes prior?

My head slammed against the glass wall yet it stayed intact, unlike myself, who was thrown ten feet from my previous location on the floor and left almost destroyed.

I emerged from the mysterious daze to find myself now sitting in a brown fold-out chair in front of a black metal table. The type of table that is usually saved for episodes of a generic cop show, but now it is being used for a type of intimidation. I infer that because this, whatever it is, is definitely serving some sort of purpose. I am guessing that purpose is to reach the bottom of some sort of tangled truth. This is the truth that only exists in certain circles of words, the ones, incidentally, that have chosen to steal my breath from me for over a year. It may have been there for much longer but has tightened itself around my throat more intensely during the recent past. Now, as I find myself in this chair and at this table with a feeling of freedom. My breath is slowly exhaling and inhaling without any of the previous restraints, the ones my body had become accustomed to. Now that I have become aware of the various scenery changes I have reached the time where it is necessary to search for the man in charge.

“So, we had to take it to this level, huh,” said the man sitting in the corner.

“What do you mean, where am I?”

“You are at a local hospital in intensive care. You were driving and a semi collided with you. You are physically a mess.”

“What are you talking about,” that doesn’t make any sense.”

“We are in your sub conscious right now. You should feel lucky. We very rarely intervene with the discrepancies of the normal ones. That is how he set it up, you all are gonna do what you wanna do.”

 “Wait… you’re talking about God right. “

“Well, yes. I know you had your doubts. You have to understand that you were put here to accomplish something. It must be important though, the battles I have been in make Iraq look like Candy Land.”

“This is just a dream then.. okay, I just never felt something so lucid in my slumber before.”

“No!”

The man hammers his fist down to the table and stares directly in my eyes. Sweat pours from my eyes and glistens on the table.

“You just don’t get it, this isn’t a game. Yet, you tight rope the moral boundaries.”

“Who are you?”

“I have a video for that. This is the full explanation of who I am and who he is. We got it decorated with bright colors and loud noises to get the message across.”

The man stood up and grasped the metal move-able platform. There lay a television set that brought me back to the early 90’s. The style was bulky and had been obviously used a lot. He put the tape in the VCR which was strange, but everything is relative.

        “The Answer- Training Video Vol. 1”

          “Hi everyone, I am here for one simple reason. I have the answer. I know what you are thinking, this is crazy right. Truth be told, we have been intervening for quite some time. Who are we, you ask? We are the line of defense. See there is someone that wants to taint everyone, free will is there but, we do intervene when he tries to approach certain people. If you are watching this video then you have already met your keeper. He or she will dive into any details that need to be discussed. Thank You for watching training video number 1. And remember, always tip your waitress.”

          The screen of the T.V goes blank. The video is definitely over, but now my mind is crawling with questions.

          “So, we start fresh from here on out. You can call me Jack. But, I would prefer you to call me sir. The overwhelming urge that you are feeling is normal. Your body wants to reject it.

          “But this is my sub-conscience, I have no physical form.”

          Jack turns on the T.V once again to unveil a hospital room. There is a man on the bed. He seems to have tubes running in and around him. There is nobody by his side. He is alone.

          “That’s you.” says Jack.

          “What are you talking about? It can’t end like this.”

          “Well, it doesn’t have to. Listen, I was assigned your case over twelve years ago. When it landed on my desk I didn’t think I would still be on it to this day. This is where we are though.”

          “What do you do?”

          “I am a member of the Department of Messengers. We look into various cases where there is a mission to be accomplished. We try to help with the defense. We can’t do as much as the other side but we are always there. Our intentions are good.

          “Who is the other side? “

          “The man himself, the loco one. You know. We don’t say his name, but you understand. He has his agencies all over polluting the youth. He is gathering all of them for the war. He is trying to get his team up. Well, where he might have in numbers, we have in quality. So, do not worry about anything. This particular situation almost never happens. When it does, it is a significant change in the big picture. Sometimes we have to step in and intervene when he gets a hold on one of ours. That is why you are here. You have a job to do, it is instrumental in a certain aspect of the operation.”

          “What operation, when is it gonna happen?”

          “Hey guy, that is way past your pay grade. Just know when I send you out that door you must take action.”

          “What action? I do not know what to do or how to do it.”

          “Listen man, sometimes you just got to hover the break. You will do fine. Now get up and walk out that door, and I promise nothing will ever be the same.

          I stood up and slowly walked toward the door ahead of me. My right hand instinctively led the attack on the door knob and it was a success. I opened the door and there was only light….. bright, blinding light.

    

                                   Part 3

The Escape

Chapter 1

“Nurse Mary, can you go get the results please?” directed the white- coated-beard wearing gentleman.

“Of course,” spat out the generic-non-descript faced nurse.

As the doctor ran his eyes over the back side of the woman, who was easily half his age, he hesitated for a moment… so he would not let his facial indicators give him away. He reached into his right pocket and pulled out his phone, he remembers it being way too advanced for him. The blonde that had sold him on the newer model was extremely persistent, but all he could imagine was about how life would be complete, if only he had one chance with her. He found himself in many situations like that. Although he was always an intelligent person when it came to books and medicine, he was less than average when it came to social scenarios.

The doctor took one last look outside the room at the nurse walking away, than shook his head. He then quickly followed her remembering he forgot to “explain” something to her.

I breathed in deeply and tilted my head up to make sure I was now completely alone. I felt a rush of relief knowing that I now could explore my environment without the watching eyes of my doctor. He might be judgmental. Since I had dealt with the true decrees of the world recently, I doubt I will have any regards for the opinions of the normal everyday person. With my palms flat on the economy style mattress, I am able to examine the exact essence of my recent scenery change.

 I gather a rough estimate of the amount of various tubes that have found their way in my body. I see the complete setup up of my medical-care; the number told me that nothing too fatal seems to be present. I feel comfortable that I can disconnect everything without any serious consequences. I have the urge to yank everything out and escape from this mind altering experience. The type of departure that is usually only reserved for POWs or escaped convicts. The one that you know there is no return to the natural so-called “normal”. Once the boundaries are penetrated, there is an instant revocation of your return privileges.

There seems to be an emergency of some kind down the hall. I notice at least five nurses and three doctors rushing into what seems to be room 145. Among the large group of medical “saviors”, was also my personal doctor. This is the perfect moment for my discharge. I rip out everything in my direct vicinity that resembled anything with a medical use. I even slapped a box of bandages across the room just for the principle.

My feet felt the iciness of the floor and I jumped up as if I had no physical harm at all. I peak around both corners of the door. I feel confident in my escape route. I had actually no idea of the identity of the layout of this hospital, but the confidence was overwhelming. The feeling closely mirrored that one certain feeling; the one that has all too often led me down that dark road. This particular one was located in the lower-left-corner of the world. With the immense feeling of hope and security, I continued to begin my mission to freedom. In my very short reconnaissance of the area, I decided quite recklessly to head to the right outside of the room.

I walked with my head up and my chest out. This plan seemed better than reenacting a burglar in a nineteen-thirties-movie trying to escape. I made it to the first corner with only having to pass one employee. It was a young man who was certainly thinking about the night before or the upcoming one. His mind was in no way thinking about the dirty linen that he was transporting to the basement level. You could detect this because of the slight smirk on his face but also a shiny resentment in his eyes. This can’t be where he thought he would be at this time in his life.

I continued along with the mask of a person who belonged strolling down the hall. A sound that can only mean that whatever emergency was taking place in 145 had went the wrong way. I could notice the doctors and nurses pouring out of the before mentioned room. They all were cloaked with disappointment. Well, all of them except for my doctor. He was the oldest and most likely most experienced of the group. He showed no sign of emotion, except for the urgency to get back to his duties.

I knew my time was now limited. I turned quickly into the hallway to my right. In the far left corner there was a brightly lit “Elevator” sign. I reached it and pushed the down button with great intensity. A few seconds passed, which resembled minutes, and the door slid open. I was now facing eye-to-eye three doctors and a woman who was business dressed with an id badge. I entered the now much smaller room. I squeezed to the rear. I felt that if I was out of sight, then out of mind. I stared at the floor as if the tiles were one of those pictures that have an internal image inside it. These particular ones, formed the description of the exit of this situation.

“Excuse me sir,” spoke out the nicely dressed woman.

I snapped out of my slumber and noticed that the elevator had opened to my rear. This was a complete backfire of my plan. I was now staring directly into the eyes that must be able to see right through me.

“My apologies, tech..nnology huh,” I said with a slight stutter.

They simply slipped passed me with expressions that caused me to blush. Before I knew they exited and I was now alone. The trip continued to the bottom floor. I exited to the left; I noticed the sign for the exit. I sped up slightly but not enough to cause a panic.

I reached the fresh air. I realized that had left through the emergency room exit. I headed to the main parking lot. I had no idea where I was going but for some reason I found myself heading straight to the bus stop. Maybe someone will look kindly on me and allow me to borrow two dollars. Unfortunately, I am sitting alone on the bench.

          I placed my palms underneath my chin to try to get comfortable. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a vehicle was pulling up right in front of me. A rush of excitement came over me. I looked up thinking maybe this was help on the way. My eyes quickly slumped back into the previous state of exhaustion. The driver was none other than him.

“Hey man, I heard you were getting out. I figured you would need some help getting off the streets.”

          “No I’m good. What do you mean, you heard? Nobody knew I was getting out. I just found out myself.”

          “I thought I told you that I have workers everywhere. That is your biggest problem, not listening. Well, that and patience. But, we all have our faults that are why I’m here. For your assistance.”

          I stood up and began walking on the sidewalk. I felt him following me. I stared directly in front of me and began jogging. I came up to a parking lot to my right. I noticed there wasn’t an entrance for a vehicle. I jumped over the curb and began sprinting across the empty lot. A loud screeching sound directed me to glance back. He had drove right over the curb and was now speeding toward me. Without hesitation I cut right so that I may jump the upcoming fence to the woods.

          Screeching came from my rear. I jerked my head back and saw that he had suddenly stopped the car. Now he is jumping out of the 1980’s Monte Carlo and sprinting as if he was an Olympic runner. I lengthened my stride to try to gain some feet on him. I jumped toward the fence and my face was abruptly smashed against the chain-length barrier. He had caught up just as I was making my escape.

          “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” he said as he spun me around and bounced me against the fence.

          The veins in his fingers were bulging because his hands were so tightly wrapping around the collar of my jacket.

          “You don’t actually think you can just walk away, do you? I mean, its bullshit, you know that right. You have no savior. Look around, your family is gone, friends have disappeared, possessions have been repossessed, and your overall demeanor has been plunged through shit. There is no going back.”

          His thumb dug itself underneath my chin as his first finger dragging my upper lip to the south.

          “So, let’s just be cool, okay.”

          I threw my hands into his abdomen to propel him off of me.

          “Get the fuck off me. I actually do understand. See, what you failed to realize is that you are nothing but a two-bit hustler. Your words mean nothing. Whatever kind of relationship we had, was set up under false pretenses, so everything is wiped away. When something is built on toothpicks it will not stand the test of time. Weak foundation, you lied, and I realize you for the fraud that you are. So, yeah… I am walking away.”

          I straightened my jacket and began walking back toward the main road.

          “Okay, go. No worries. I will find another little buddy; there are a lot of impressionable children out there. I mean… “teachable” children.”

          I stop dead in my tracks. I took one breathe in and slowly released it. I started walking again.

          “Go fuck yourself.”

          I said that and kept walking. I felt his piercing eyes on the back of my head. But, somehow, there is a feeling that nothing can stop me. I reach the sidewalk and notice a car pulling up.

          “Need a ride young man?” said a middle-aged woman with brown hair that was flowing out of the driver window.

          “Sure.”

          I ran up to the passenger door and opened it and hopped in.

          “I am going to Lime Bay, where do you need to go young man?”

          “Lime Bay actually, that’s crazy, thank you very much.”

          “Oh it’s nothing; I saw you, and something told me you needed a ride.”

          “Well, I really did, thank you.”

          “Just make it count.”

          We started driving and there was no looking back. I had gotten away. This has only been the completion of the first stage though. Who knows where this road will lead. At least it will be away from the past. The past will chase me, but will never catch me.     

 

Chapter 2

          “Are you fucking kidding me? That shit was crazy. I cannot believe that mother fucker got away. I might be slipping or something.”

He turns his attention to across the street. There is a child playing basketball alone. He headed over. As he approached the court he felt that tingling in his fingertips.

“Hey little man, can I play?”

“Sure,” said the four- foot dark hair wearing boy.

“We can play as a team, wanna try it?”

“Yeah, that would be awesome.”

“All you got to do is ………….

    

Part 4

Redemption via Revenge

                     

Chapter 1

            “So where are you headed after Lime Bay?” asked the bright eyed lady who was caressing the steering wheel like a new baby.

            “Well I am not exactly sure, but I have a couple of things that have to be taken care of. It all seems pretty clear what I am supposed to do,” responded Daniel as he wiped the sweat off his brow and stared out the passenger –side window.

            “Whatever you do, just make sure your intentions are in the right. I don’t know if I have to tell you what will happen if you stray from the path again.”

            Daniel slowly turned his head and looked at the side of the woman’s’ head and a slight smirk emerged on his face.

            “Who are you exactly, if you don’t mind my intrusion to your personal life?”

            “Well, the details I will keep locked away, but just look at me as a passerby, a traveler of sorts with good intentions. Some might call me a messenger and others will simply look past me with no conclusion at all. I am guessing it is all based on perspective.”

            “So I am guessing I will take that no response as a response kindly. I am well previewed to the stakes that I am dealing with. Nothing is in stone but, let’s say that I feel pretty confident in what my personal mission is. Oh, take this exit please.”

            “You sure, you know that isn’t going to Lime Bay?”

            “Well I can still get there from this way, but first I have to stop somewhere. Don’t worry; once you drop me off I can get a ride from there. Thanks a lot for the lift. Take this first right and at the second light turn left.”

            “I know where you are going, I am not sure this is the right decision. But, it doesn’t matter what I believe. The orders were clear that we are not to interfere directly anymore. So whatever is on your mind make sure it is right, because if your wrong, well, just be sure. We had such high hopes for you growing up.”

            “Who is “we”?”

            “Don’t worry about it sweetie. Hey, if it is just the same, I am going to drop you off around the corner. I never liked going into that neighborhood personally.”

            “I understand; and don’t worry, this is just a short stop, I just have to wrap something up.”

            She pulls over to the side of a broken down gas station. It was the commercial hub of the community a little over five years ago. But as soon as the shopping center across the street was foreclosed on, it was soon after that the surrounding properties followed suit. Daniel takes one last glance at the lady who is now directing her attention to the front and seems to be avoiding even slightly looking at him. He blankly stares at his thighs and suddenly grabs the door handle and pulls it till the click releases him from the Closter phobic feeling of the passengers’ seat. He steps out and glares at the cracked sidewalk in front of him. He spins around slowly and bends down to peak back inside the vehicle. He knows what he wants to say, but the words are stuck in the place where conversations are conjured. They will not, for a strange reason, release to the pathway to the outside world. He uses his right hand to scratch his chin in an attempt to fill this time slot with something other than awkwardness. The elderly lady quickly turns her eyes to meet his and stays at this position for a second that felt more like a minute. As she moved her attention back to the path in front of her, she simultaneously switched the gear shift into the one designated to move forward. Without any words shared she pushed down her right foot and the wheels rolled out of their stationary position. He quickly backed up and paused for a slight moment, then turned to once again face the sidewalk.

            He knew that what he was about to embark on was not exactly coloring inside the lines, but it was important to create the best picture. 

Chapter 2

            Daniel finds himself in front of a wooden door that is surrounded by purple checker ds. This design covers the entire door.

            “Knock, Knock, “sounded as Daniel tried to get the attention of the inside occupants.

            The door swung away from Daniel and uncovered a smiling face that he has not seen in quite a while.

            “Daniel, you mother fucker... come in, come in.” announced the man that they call Buck.

            “I was wondering if you were going to be happy to see me or not.”

            “Come on man, thick as thieves me and you. Although you went a different way I understood you and that bond is unbreakable. So come sit down on my couch that I had shipped from Thailand, it has tiger fur in the cup holders. That is just a glimpse into what you are missing out on. But sit down, sit down, I’ll get you a beer and a girl, you still get down with the sultriness of a south of the border type of lady, correct.”

            “Ha-ha, yeah man whatever I’m cool man, I just need to talk to you for a second.”

            “No beer?”

            “I’ll take the beer, just sit down.”

            The room was the mirror image of what certain people judge success on. The four walled room was occupied by many things. To the right, there is a 7’/3’ aquarium filled with brightly colored fish. The background of the wall is a mural of Muhammad Ali in his prime. It was a very good portrait but he definitely uses it as a symbol of his greatness. As we move to the left, there is a full couch that is covered in leather and the seams are glittered with satin. The overall feel of the couch is that it is too luxurious to sit on. Either way there are two Asian women in their mid-twenties occupying opposite’s side of the couch. Both have that look in their eye that we all recognize as ignorance. They have been blessed with beauty and choose to ride that train as far as it will take them. There disillusions barely outshine their diamond encrusted earrings. Little do they know, they are from the pawn shop around the corner, but does it really matter, it accomplishes the goal of vanity just fine? They bob there head to the music, but inside their minds they want a way out. They just have not been given a route. These are just certain examples of lost souls. But it is never too late to change, and that mentality sparkles in the right corner of their eye. Needless to say they are as much of scenery as the couch and aquarium. Now as we make are way to the third wall, there is a round table with two chairs that scream discoing making. This is where we find Daniel and Buck sipping a beer discussing something.

            “So man what I am saying is that I only need a place to stay tonite, a car, and that is all. I’ll set up right there in that extra bedroom. You won’t even know I am here. And when I am gone, I am gone.”

            “I know what you’re saying, and that’s some fucked up shit, but.., why don’t you just let me handle this man for you, and you can go about your way. I never wanted this life for you, we may cross paths every now and then, but out of respect I do not bring my demons into those meetings.”

            “I appreciate that, everything you have done for me has been well documented, I just have to take care of this myself, or I won’t ever be able to go home.”

            “Ok man, you know where the rooms at. Should I even ask who this person is?”

“His name is John Coolidge. He has infested so many people that this will be a great awakening for the world.”

            Daniel stands up, acknowledges his partner and moves to his room to begin work.            

Chapter 3

          The sunlight creeps in slowly this morning. It finally reaches Daniel laying on the waterbed with decorative goldfish plastered around it. As the sunlight bakes his skin until he slowly begins to gain consciousness. He sits up and glances at the sneakers on the floor. His right hand snatched them up and his feet found their home. He stood up and reached towards the ceiling and exhaled as he brought his hands back to his side. Something struck his attention on the night stand. It was a shiny set of car keys. He scratched the wood as he grabbed the set of freedom igniters. He opened the door and headed out the living room to the front door.

          “You leaving already? “said the man who was lying in between the two decorative ladies.

          “Yeah man, I’m out, thanks a lot, and I will bring the car by tomorrow.”

          “Don’t worry about it man, that is your coming home present, enjoy it and put premium in it, she is a whore.”

          “Thanks man, take it easy.”

He hesitates for one second then he continues and heads out the front door into the blinding light of freedom. He steps fully on the porch and looks left at his new vehicle. It is a Harley Davidson XL 1000-1975. The paint was a light cream sickle color. It was a very well-trimmed bike and would do the job nicely. He stepped down the porch and gazed out onto the world that is in front of him and pondered many things. Once the moment passed he headed toward his chariot. There was a helmet that was sat beside the bike. He grabbed it and explored its dimensions. Then he placed it on his head and a rush of excitement flooded his body. He threw his right leg over the seat and kicked the clutch and rode off. He knew where he was going. It should take about two hours to get there. Then he will wait. He will wait for the perfect time.

Chapter 4

As the landscapes flood passed him he engages himself in various thoughts. He is passing by the buildings that he grew up around. He glides by the park where he broke his arm. That day was exciting. He almost started to smile thinking back at the good times. He then passed by a building fluttered with graffiti. The distinction between the artist at work and the ones who were trying to stake some sort of claim brought him back to reality. He is on a mission and this must be completed before he can begin to live. This particular person that he is after is one of many faces. He had infiltrated his family at a young age. He feels that without the invasion there would be none of the various detrimental situations that paraded as normal circumstances. He was simply a person with no core. He had been hollowed out many years before our first encounter. Then he was placed in certain situations that lead him to do more than cross that line, he was well removed from the moral standard of most. Daniel had taken the time to fully understand him and try to act compassionately. But there was a certain thing that he just could not get past. This was the reason for him going after the image of John Coolidge more than the man himself. As he gets closer to his destination he begins to go faster. He is using the expressway as a portal to redemption. In his mind this is the only way out of the pain, the constant delusions of reality. He understands that this is no way for anyone to live, and he will no longer allow himself to become victim to what he perceives as the aftermath of John Coolidge. Exactly who John is, isn’t the important part, it is what he represents in Daniels mind. He is merely an obstacle to get past. An evil one at that. So, by killing John, Daniel will truly have redemption, in his mind.

Chapter 5

     He pulled into a neighborhood that was labeled “Sunshine Estates”. He rode to the first stop sign and went right. He pulled to a stop and shut down his carrier. He walked to the side of the house and tossed the keys into some brush. The neighborhood was one of those that popped up in the 70’s. The architecture is funky and every house has a yard that is big enough for an impromptu football game. The trees are elm, and are glistening at this time of day. He notices someone three houses down across the street is leaving their house. He steps back behind the house that is clearly abandoned. You can tell by the length of grass and hedges. He clings to the house and slightly crouches as a purple Rav 4 passes by with the man from the house directing it. Daniel is not sure how long he will be gone but, it is time for him to set up. He comes back to the front of the house and walks down the side walk trying to remain casual. He waves to an older lady who is sitting on her porch to his right. He is not worried about people seeing him. He has no intention of leaving that house. Once he does what he feels he has to do for his family he will precede back home. This is a spiritual place. He has searched for that place of clarity his entire life, and with every endeavor he has found himself more corrupted. Whether it was the drugs, girls, or wearing that mask of happiness, it all lead to nothing. He feels the point of corruption completely coincides with the emerging of one John Coolidge. If he takes away the point of pain then all subsequent issues will be redeemed. John Coolidge is his “White Whale”.

          He heads over to his house and finds a comfortable place to wait. He is in direct sight of the drive-way; he can easily sneak up on John and push him through his front door. Also he is blocked from view by the bushes and an old beat up pick-up truck. He sinks in to a comfort level that allows him to view his objectives route. He spots a wooden baseball bat that was lying in the grass behind the house. He stood up quickly to see if anybody was around then he skipped to the back yard where he captured the tool of his inevedivatible endeavor. He once again sunk back in to that lonely corner but this time it is different. He feels fuller because of his new companion. He starts to get the plan ready in his head. As soon as he steps out of the car and walks to the front door, he will unlock it and that second after the door leaves its previous position he will engage. He will thrust John into the middle of his living room and proceed to impair him to the point where he can say his peace then complete the task. This idea seems flawless. He is in such a confident mood that he does not even begin to contemplate the variables of the situation.

          Three hours pass…

          Daniel had slightly dozed off but was wide awake with the noise of a car crushing pine cones just five feet from him. This was it. He is here. Daniel stiffens up and glares at the outline of a man sitting in the driver seat. He opens the door and steps down on the ground and closes his car door. He shuffles through his keys in his hand to locate the one that will open the door to his demise. He presses in between his thumb and index finger the golden key that is engraved c78f. As he gets closer to his door he reaches to place the key in the proper slot. Daniel knows it is time to act.

          Daniel stands up and with the baseball bat, waits for John to turn the key to open the door. John attempts to turn the key, but it is the wrong one. He pulls it out and looks again at the keys.

          Daniel is waiting patiently and calm. He is completely silent. He has not breathed since the arrival at the door.

          John fumbles with his keys and a tragedy struck. He dropped the keys to the floor. As he knelt down to retrieve them he caught a glimpse of a reflection off the kitties’ water bowl that distinctly showed a man with a bat behind him.

          Their eyes met through this third party system and Daniel knew he had to act.

          “What the fuck ma…”

Daniel swung at him to cut off his speech. He hit him with a direct blow to the head. John slumped to the ground.

          “Hey what are you doing over there?” yelled an elderly white woman with a cell phone in her hand who was across the street tending to her flowers. She had heard the commotion and responded.

          Daniel locked eyes with her and knew he had to act fast. He grabbed the unconscious man underneath his arm pits and began to drag him to the back yard. He couldn’t just kill him without telling him why. This would bring no relief. He dragged him by the water spout in the middle of the yard. Daniel released the lifeless body to the ground and hopped to turn the water on. He gripped it with his right hand and turns it until the water was shooting out of the hose less than eight feet away. Daniel let go of the spout and grabbed the hose. He began to soak the man. He sprayed it directly into his face trying to get him to regain consciousness.

          “Come on man wake the fuck up!”

          Suddenly John sat up spitting out water trying to find out where he was.

          “Stay down.”

          John was obviously startled and slid on his backside to reach the structure of the house that would be the only thing holding him up.

          “What …are you doing?” asked John as he breathed heavily.

          “What am I doing, well, that is a long story. What you need to be concerned with is what you have done. You thought you got away without anyone knowing who you really were. You stupid fuck. Do you know how many lives you affected, you crept in and left your footprints with shit?”

          “Come on man, don’t be so dramatic, you know the game, shit, you play it yourself.”

          “Do not begin to compare us, whatever I have done, I have felt great remorse, I have plunged myself through various bad things to try to regain some sort of self-worth. You, on the other hand just shrug your shoulders and walk away. Well, there is no walking away this time.”

          Daniel picked up the bat off the ground and quickly swung it back and began to swing it toward Johns’ temple.

          “Freeze, don’t do that.” Said a police officer with a gun pointed directly at Daniel.

          Daniel froze half way there. He turned his head toward the officer.

          “Listen sir, I know you got to do what you got to do, but so do I. So let us not mix feelings with profession. “

          Daniel cocked back the bat began to swing. He was abruptly stopped by a loud noise and a sharp pain in his gut that made him loose grip of the bat. He fell to the ground and looked up at the sky. The police officer rushed over and radioed for paramedics. Daniel just looked at the officer and smiled as he tried to grasp for breath.

          “Thank you.” said Daniel as he closed his eyes and began his next journey.

Chapter 6

The scene in the neighborhood is flooded with police cars and first responders. The neighbors are present on their front lawns, experiencing everything as a reality.

News Reporter

“Just in, tragedy strikes Sunshine Estates. Another veteran from the Iraq War has seemed to be pushed to the limit. He is 25 year old Daniel Burly. He was shot down by police before he could strike a fatal blow to another man. Their link is not clear at this time. What is known is that he served two tours in Iraq and has just returned home not too long ago. He is survived by his son, mother, father, sister, and many other loved ones. This is just another case of realizing the cost of war. It is not just the sacrifices of life overseas that deplete us as a nation, but it is the deep seeded plagues that get brought back home. This affects not only our service members but our community. Until we recognize it for what it is, then we will be doomed to repeat many situations just like this. War is inhumane, it goes against what is right. Obviously there are certain situations that must be addressed with force, but this has to be the last action on the table and not the standard. For Channel Two News, this is Sandra Castillo saying” take care” and always remember.”    

   

This book is dedicated to Jessica Castillo, Eric Gridley, and Deatrick Beverly

Ones taken too young but their imprints remain firm.