“Emma, hey! It’s Pete. How are you? Listen, I’ve got some things going on today & can’t make it in.” Lowering my voice, I said, “Please keep all my messages confidential until I can make it back tomorrow, okay?”
“Of course, Pete. I’ll take care of everything. Leanne is already in, so she’s got it all under control for you.”
That was what I was afraid of.
“Sure, Emma, but I’ve got some confidential cases that Leanne isn’t aware of yet. Can you make sure you take messages? Just send Leanne anything that has to do with accounts payable. She’s our CFO, so those calls can go to her. Anything else, let me deal with tomorrow. How’s that?” There was no way Liz would call about any invoice, so that should take care of that, just in case she called before I could reach her. She would call and ask for me, not accounting, so that should cover everything.
“No problem, Pete. Hope you have a good day. See you tomorrow?”
“Yeah, yes, Emma. See you tomorrow. Bye.”
Okay. That was handled. Where was the vodka? Oh yeah, Leanne kept it in the freezer. Opening the door, I saw the chilled Zukov vodka. Screw the orange juice. I’d have a shot, then try to call Liz.
Voicemail. Her phone must have been turned off. Had Leanne talked to her already? Maybe she was in a meeting. I’d have another shot, then decide what to do. Maybe I’d drive to Atlanta. It would be easier to explain everything to her once I saw her. Once Liz and I were together, I’d decide how to handle Leanne. Besides, Leanne would need some time, maybe a lot of time, to cool down. I’d have to figure out how to keep the kids from being too damaged from the fallout. They were more my concern than Leanne was. After the way she had acted that morning, I was not too sure I wanted to see her for a while. She only reminded me of how very bad everything was.
Hell, I’d just take the vodka and drive to the cabin. Surely Liz would turn her phone on before she got off work. Once we talked, I’d let her know I was driving down to see her. We’d spend the weekend together. When we’d had some time alone, I would let her know why I had done everything. That was all I needed to do. Talk to Liz, face to face. We were in love. She would know that I had no intention of all this getting so twisted. I never meant for anyone to get hurt.
One more shot and I’d hit the road. I could be at my cabin in fifteen minutes. Solitude for an afternoon. After that, I’d talk to Liz and drive to Atlanta. I’d take the vodka with me. Maybe a shot or two later on would help clear my head.
I remembered driving to the cabin. The heat and humidity were still high, even for a late September afternoon. Once at the cabin, instead of the serenity and peace my soul longed for, there were only bits and pieces of the broken dreams of my life. The initials of my childhood sweetheart’s and mine, entwined forever on a tree trunk. Where was she now? When had my life really taken such a wrong turn? A lone hawk circled over me as I looked over the hazy tapestry of green pastures in the beautiful Sequatchie Valley below.
The sobbing for my broken dreams and shattered reality hit me in waves. I had never been the type of man that cried, even when my daddy was such an asshole to Mother. I had always taken care of other people. My entire life, I’d been the protector, the good guy. This was too much. My life was disintegrating before me. I recalled picking up rocks and throwing them wildly, randomly into the creek. Ripping of all my clothes, I ran like a madman into the water. The cool mountain water worked like a tonic on my broken soul. Under the water, I’d find peace. If I stayed under the water long enough, all my troubles would disappear. Peace. Serenity. Stillness. My mind began to calm as I felt my body and spirit divide. My body floated limply even as my lungs burned. All I had to do was hold my breath a little longer, and it would all be over.
Like a feather hangs on the breeze, my body gave way to the water. Calmness. I finally achieved nothingness. My mind had no thoughts. All went black.
That was when I remembered a hand pulling my hair as another hand went under an arm. My inert body was being lifted. It was a man, I could tell by his hand size. He pulled me to the side of the creek and placed me in the sunshine on one of the warm, large, limestone rocks. One of his large hands hit me on the back, propelling the water out of my lungs. I gasped for air and turned to see who had found me.
The silhouette of the large man was black against the sun. I couldn’t make out any of his features. He wore some type of Native American headdress; it could have been the outline of feathers. Was he Cherokee? He looked to be wearing some type of leather breeches, too.
“Son, you will be all right. Someday. One day.” The man spoke with some type of accent I had never heard before. I looked down at my hands, wondering how long I had been in the water.
When I glanced back up, he was gone. I could hear a rain crow in the distance and the sound of a meadowlark nearby, then I lost consciousness out in the warm September sun.
When I woke up, the sun had already gone down across the Cumberland Plateau. The heat of the day gave way to the first chill of the mountain air. I shivered in my nakedness and began to search for my clothes. How long had I been here, just passed out on the porch? The orange and purple streaks of clouds still reflected what was left of the sunset. The birds sang their last cries of the evening. An owl screeched somewhere in the distance. And the moon; the moon was full on the eastern horizon.
One more swim back with the moon on the water. That would clear my crazy head. I had to get back in the water. I knew that if I didn’t swim again now, I would never swim, ever again. I would never go into the water for the rest of my life. The day had been too surreal--a daytime nightmare. I kept shaking my head as I swam through the moonbeams. Had I really, finally gone insane?
Was this what it felt like to have a breakdown, or was this what it took to decide what you really have to do in life? I held my breath and went under the water. If I escaped the moonbeams, would I escape the craziness? At that moment, I thought This is the crisis of my life. I attempted to stay under the water. Maybe if I held my breath long enough, the pain would go away. Little did I know at that point.
When I woke up the second time, the moon’s shiny orb was higher in the sky. I had washed up on the side of the creek a little further down from the cabin, but not so far away that I couldn’t find my way back in the moon light. The coyotes howled in the distance, joined by the nighttime symphony of bugs, tree frogs, and the distant drone of a turboprop plane flying overhead. The lone owl continued to ask. Who? Who?
Liz. That’s who. I had to get to Liz no matter what time it was. I was going to Atlanta. The moonbeams I fought to elude earlier now served to help me find my clothes, scattered about in my earlier drunken disenchantment.
When I got it all together, I would confess everything to Liz. Even today’s breakdown. She would understand. I found my car keys and opened the door to the black BMW 530. The extra clothes, jeans, a clean shirt, and an extra pair of docksiders were in the satchel that I always kept in the car. I kept an extra bottle of water in there, too. I splashed the water on my face and poured it over my hair. I shook the water from my hair, slicked my wet hair back with my hands, and put on the clean clothes. As I slid into the dark leather seat, I noticed the dashboard clock said 12:20 a.m. I would be in Atlanta by 2:00 a.m. Liz would not turn me away. With today being Friday, maybe she would take the day off work. We could stay in bed all day, watch movies, make love. Anything the girl wanted to do, I would do.
The drive down the mountain didn’t take long and I was on I-24 southbound in no time. I thought about getting coffee, but that stop would take at least twenty minutes, even at a nighttime drive through. Nay, I’d drive straight through. Maybe have another shot of vodka just to keep me from crashing like I did earlier at the cabin. I’d just keep drinking, just enough to get me there, but not too much. I wouldn’t call Liz. Just show up. That way if Leanne had talked to her, I could pacify her in person.
The drive down was straightforward enough; there was little traffic to deal with. I could see t
he Midtown and Downtown skyline as I drove under the I-285 Bypass. At this rate, I would be in Midtown in ten minutes or so. Liz. Like a dream come true after a bad nightmare.
I should’ve kept my eyes on the road because those daydreams at night were what made me miss the sign for I-75 South. I ended up taking the I-85 split.
Damn.
Then, when I reached for the glove compartment to get the map, I took my eyes off the road, just for a split second. When I looked up, the guardrail was there. Right there. There was no swerving, I was going too fast. Over the side of the interstate I flew. Like a bird freed from its earthly bonds. My car and I defied gravity.
I was over the railway. There was an Amtrak train. I knew I was going to hit it. I blacked out. My last conscious thought was of The Poet’s blog post and the poem named “Handful of Flash.”
Chapter 10
Handful of Flash
---------------------------------
Blog 11 for PoetsCafe.org
Sept 2
BIG IN BOTSWANA
.
It's true. My DYING ASHES is a storm in Gabs, as the capital Gaborone is more fondly known. Bots has a triple-A credit rating no less, and the driveways of the newly rich middle class are strewn with glinty spoil from the country's diamond mines. Nice. A place ripe for the metaphysical musings of yours truly. I tweet you not; I'm super-uber-mega-massive. Yet I still can't write. The depression that followed THE UNLOCKING produced conceit after conceit. My conclusion is this: we should never set out to write anything, as the only things worth having are those things we receive. I vow here now that I will not write again. Here, to my shame, is said hideous conceit. I hope Botswana may find it within its heart to forgive me.
For the uninitiated, Vanilla Sylvia's one and only appearance was in Sydney's Hell Fire Club, an epicentre of fantastical hedonistic sexcess, a subject with which, as an archetypal metaphysical verser, yours truly knows absolutely.
HANDFUL OF FLASH
Vanilla Syl makes eyes at Death
A poet whose ebook has bombed
'Hi! 's'a mighty fine blade you got!
'Want to see some scything action?'
'Just how lucky can a girl get?''
Never one to underplay stuff,
Death sweeps his scythe in vicious arcs
'Wow! that's how you cut people down'
'Yep, 's'all in the wrist action, watch'
Busy death offs a Detroit dude
'Hey, that was neat. Want to fuck me?'
Death eyes Vanilla Syl with care
'We can youtube it, go viral'
'Deep-throat web-cam, catch that cum shot'
~
'Fucking me could really make you'
'Move that sticky ebook of yours'
Death's power stirs beneath his cloak
'All I have to do is fuck you?'
'Could always go down on me first'
'Not everyone gets to fuck Death'
'But I am not everyone, love'
'This going down, what exactly...'
'It's what Life's all about, my friend'
'And afterwards I take you, right?'
'Unless I take you first, that is'
Smiling at his feet, Death blushes
'This is highly irregular'
'Look into my eyes, don't hold back'
~
Death, fall, fall, falls in love with Life
'Good, wasn't too tough now, was it?'
'I've never felt like this before'
'Come here you! loosen up a tad'
'Vanilla Syl, Va-nil-la Syl'
'So are you gonna kiss me, Death?'
'And put that scythy-whythy down'
Death hesi-hesi-hesitates
'Miss Syl, do you know who I am?'
'Come here, you lunk! I just sooo do'
'And you, erm, still want to, you know?'
'More than ever, you're sooo yummy!'
Vanilla Syl embraces Death
'Come on, big boy! Give it to me!'
~
Death! O Death! THIS! is your triumph
Vanilla Syl surrenders all
You know, of course, what all implies
Moans, groans, entanglements, and sighs
And all beneath shy Death's dark cloak
Death being... far more coy than Life
Death's seed, you see, my friends, is black
But our Syl's nought if not a sport
'O Life!' moans Death. 'Please be my wife!'
Syl smiles that winning smile of hers
'Now, now, old chum, a fuck's a fuck'
'O Life!' I'm nothing without you!'
Syl looks over right shoulder, winks
'Noir moi? time for some fun, methinks'
~
'Death, listen to me, sugar dream'
'Now that I'm with your child, we're done'
Death drops his scythe, heart-broken glum
'Come on, old chum, a zero sum'
'I'll have a son and call him Faust'
'You really don't want to piss me'
'O but I do, sooo do, you're brill!'
'I know your game Vanilla Syl!'
'Of course you do, how could you not?'
'As for your ebook, Dearest Death...'
Sighing Death re-shoulders his scythe
'Your brand, my love, must be obeyed'
'Your pitch, the darkest ever made'
'But first, your agent must be laid'
~
Death dreams the Pulitzer-Nobel
'Might one be stiffening again?'
'The things you say, Vanilla Syl!'
'Come here! you rum and raisin pox!'
'O Death! you're just so passionate!'
Death has his way with Syl again
'O my Death, you're good, sooo horny!'
'O look, your scythe's gone all rusty'
'Who cares? I'm done with slaughtering'
'No more Death? Is that the message?'
'...just stoked about being a dad...'
'Yeah, but what happens to the world?'
'...if I'm fucking you, instead of...?'
'No more Death? I sense a prob-lem!'
~
Death's ebook sold in the hundreds
Mostly because no one dies now
And the boredom ... the ... sheer ... boredom ...
Even Death's dead verse's found its fans
A hundred billion people now!
Mostly on the Jubilee Line
Ahhhh! there's our Syl with baby Faust!
A-dan'dling on her purdy knee
And dull old Death, smoking his pipe
Putting on a little beef now
Doing su-do-ku, killing time
'O look love,' says Death to our Syl
'I see the swifts are back again'
But Syl's freaked about Faust's homework
.
by Jack O Savage
Chapter 11
In Silence and Tears
My eyes opened to a new day. Why? What was there to look forward to now? Pete’s wife had told me yesterday to leave him alone. His wife. Why didn’t he tell me? Why wasn’t he honest with me? I would’ve loved Pete, no matter what, simply because you can’t help who you fall in love with. Pete lied. He lied to me. He should’ve told me the truth. I had been so crazy in love with him and would have understood somehow. Did he mean anything he said, or had everything been a lie?
We would never make love again. Never share time at his cabin. He would never comb my hair in front of the mirror. Nothing. Ever again. It was all over.
The tears fell hot and dripped slowly down my cheeks at first. Then they came like a torrent. Pete, why? It all made sense now, somehow. Why had I been so blind? Why had I believed him? Why did I finally give myself, my heart, to someone who had deceived me?
I pulled myself up to sit on the side of the bed and cradled my head in my hands. The tears would not stop. I should call into work today. There was no way I could wo
rk if I was such a wreck emotionally, although work would get my mind off him, off Pete. Oh God, my heart was truly broken, shattered, just when I thought my world was beginning. Just when I thought I was being given a new start; a fresh start at life and love. Feeling, sharing, loving without the dull numbness. Now, I needed my numbness again. The pain was too great. It ripped apart my soul.
Why did I have that dream again? All I remembered was Grandfather saying to me “Go to London.” Why? Why? My premonitions had been completely wrong. What made me have that dream, yet again? It didn’t make any sense, but what really made sense right now? Stupid, stupid dream. Stupid, stupid heart.
Sigh. I’d get to work. That would get me involved in something beside myself. Make a pot of coffee. Then, take a shower and wash that man right down the drain. He hadn’t even tried to connect with me. He hadn’t called or been online. He lied to me and used me.
It was over. My heart was shattered and there was no future with Pete. That was it. Done. Over. September ends and a wasteland of emotion and heartache awaited me. This was my own fault for really believing a man could love me as much as I loved him. This was what it took to wake me up. Dream over. Illusions shattered. Heart fragmented. My own fault. What was that saying? Love is magic? But, magic is only an illusion.
What was next? I thought by changing my life, getting off the pills, getting myself together, somehow I honestly believed it would be so different. Boy, was I ever wrong. Nothing had changed. More lies, more emotion, and more heart break than I ever imagined. What would it take to get my life and my crazy heart straightened out? Wake me up. No, don’t even bother. Why even bother?
Morning news and traffic; my eye drifted habitually to the TV screen. I lived close enough to work to walk, but I couldn’t help wondering how the traffic was. When I looked out onto Atlanta from the 19th floor, I saw a perfect September day. That blue sky and those white billowy clouds would make you believe everything was right with the world. That was why I loved Atlanta. It was really difficult to be sad in a city that is so very beautiful. Atlanta, please don’t you let me down. Please don’t disappointment me. I really do love you. My life, not so much, once again-- Welcome to Disappointment and Abandonment.
September Ends Page 9