September Ends

by Jones, Hunter S.

  “Right now? Liz, right now, you are making me miserable. Please tell me, my Magnolia Rose Exotique, how can I make the hour exquisite last longer? How can I make it last…forever? What can I do, Liz?”

  Your father disappeared for a few days. You will learn that he often does this, but don’t worry; he always comes back. Always. I went days without sleep, though, afraid this time he would not return to me.

  Finally, Jack calls and says, “Liz darling, I'll pick you up in three hours. We're going to Antibes, in the south of France. There’s a little place there overlooking the Mediterranean. I want you to see it because we're going to make the greatest creation of my life there.”

  “What's that, Jack? What have you come up with now?”

  “I'll explain it to you, darling. Just be out front when Spider brings the car round.”

  Spider drove us to Heathrow. We jetted off that afternoon. Once we arrived and went for a swim, I asked your father why exactly he brought me to the south of France. What did he plan on creating?

  Your father said he brought me to La Belle France so we could create YOU. His greatest creation. He took me in his arms and said, “If I have to lock myself in a room with you for a month, I don't care. I am going to make love to you until you became pregnant. Our child, Liz, will be my greatest creation, our child exquisite. That way, you will always be a part of me and I will be a part of you. You came to London for me. You had said I had a message that would change your life. You were absolutely right, Lady from Atlanta.”

  Two weeks in France on a dream vacation with the love of my life was followed by a second proposal and impromptu wedding once we returned to England. How could I refuse him? And now, we have you.

  Zelda, I have waited my entire lifetime for you!

  You have jet-black hair just like your father. You were born with long black hair and you have my pale blue eyes. You are the most exquisitely beautiful child I have ever seen. Your skin will take on a porcelain hue within the next few days, much like mine. You have rosy little Cherokee cheeks and little pink lips and dainty, long eyelashes. You have the face of a cherub. Your eyes light up as if you are ready to laugh and enjoy life. Your long, tiny fingers are already wrapping around your father’s fingers when he touches you. From the minute you were born, you had your father wrapped around your fingers so, well done, little girl! Your legs are so long. You may be as tall as your father. Tall, short…it doesn’t matter. You are beautiful! I am so very proud to be your mother. You will teach me so much.

  Your father was present at your birth. The midwife handed you to him first. You opened your eyes and looked at him. He swears you smiled. Then he shared you with me, lovingly placing you in my arms. Jack promptly announced that your name is Zelda Scarlett October Rose Cowboy Boots Savage. Only The Poet, Jack O. Savage, can get by with such a spontaneous outbreak of words and emotion, as you will come to learn.

  So you will understand, I agreed to all the names after your father agreed that you are to be called Zelda Savage. No crazy long list of initials or other names. Just Zelda. Our Zelda.

  Your father named you after two Southern women, Southern belles, both with literary ties: Zelda Fitzgerald and Scarlett O’Hara. (He already has a reading list for you, so be prepared to learn from the Master of Words!)

  You have my middle name, October. That is explained for you somewhere in this diary. A gift from your grandmother. You were supposed to be born in October, but apparently you couldn’t wait, so we named you October anyway.

  Rose is for the English Rose and the Cherokee Rose, the state flower of Georgia.

  Cowboy Boots is from the type of shoes I was wearing the night your father and I met.

  Savage. You are your father’s child. He wanted you so much, Zelda. He is so very excited to have you here! I have never known a man to be so excited about having a baby. Jack has helped pick out everything for your nursery, your little clothes, he has you signed up for university already—should you choose to attend one day. And, you already know about the library he has for you. Your life will be an adventure, Zelda. Plan on it.

  He wants you to have seven names because only his daughter, only the child of The Poet, can have seven names. Seven. The number of colors in the rainbow. The colors he can’t see because he is colorblind. He says you will see and feel all the colors of the rainbow in your lifetime. You will find the poem he wrote, just for you, on the day we discovered you would soon be entering our lives. I have enclosed it on the next page of the diary.

  One day soon, your father and I will take you to meet my family in my very small hometown. As you get older, we will also take you to visit Atlanta and Nashville and everywhere else you want to visit! You need to know about your American roots, not just your English heritage. We have so much to do. So many places to go, things to learn. You will break hearts, and at some point, someone will break your heart. But, you are Jack’s child. You will find the beauty in everything life brings to you.

  When you are old enough, you can choose to enter your father’s world of wild creativity. Fame and fortune. Adulation and recognition. Until then, your father and I have agreed that you will be raised on the farm out of the glaring gaze of the public eye. You and I will live a quiet life in the English countryside, traveling with your father as his schedule permits. If you decide to enter a profession that will place you center stage, we will support you one hundred percent. However, it will be completely your choice and your calling. We do not want to influence your decision. That decision will be made by you. Always follow your heart, Zelda, and you will know.

  You are magic. Totally and completely a magical child. You are special, an enchanting little spirit, Zelda. This is not just because you are Jack’s child and the embodiment of our love. You will have something very special all your own. You were born with a caul; a tiny red membrane covered your forehead like a little veil. Any child born with a caul has always been considered extremely fortunate. It is an omen that you are destined for greatness. Good things are going to happen to you AND for you, little girl! You may even have the ability to have dreams, visions, and premonitions--the gift of the supernatural—the second sight. Okay, so I’m stoked. I am your mom and every mom in the world knows how I feel right now. Only, YOU chose ME to be your mom!

  There is so very much I want to share with you. I will save everything about your father from magazines, newspapers, and the media. All his books. All his poetry. When the time is right, you will receive everything I have collected—all his works and all the worldwide coverage I can locate regarding him, his life, and his art. His words, Zelda, the most important thing in his life, words are the love of his life, at least they were until you were born. By learning about your father and his life, you will understand his legacy, which is your birthright. Luckily for you, the internet now collects information, so you can easily access anything you want to know as you get older. My only problem with your father is his tobacco addiction. I hate that Jack smokes. Otherwise, your father is fantastic--a modern day rock star with words--a living character, a larger-than-life personality, so prepare yourself for the ride! It’s going to be super>mega>uber exciting and not always what you expect.

  Welcome to the world, darling angel. Your father once told me that I was like a firecracker drizzled in sugar, but I believe this is going to be the perfect description of you, Zelda. Your life will not always be perfect and often times the world and life are very brutal. Hope for the best and expect the worst. You will overcome, Zelda. You are gifted. You are love.

  Gotta run for now. You have exhausted me today!

  I love you forever!

  Your Mommy

  Zelda Scarlett October Rose Cowboy Boots Savage

  Named and Written by your father, Jack O. Savage

  She: What is it?

  He: Keep still

  She: What?

  He: It's the green

  She: From the rainbow

  He: Yes, keep still

  ~

>   Let the record show!

  The green from the rainbow swirls around

  Touches, touches, touching all

  ~

  She: It's Beauty

  He: Yes

  She: Ours

  He: Yes

  She: Can you feel it?

  He: Yes

  She: See what you've done!

  He: Don't blame me!

  She: We

  Let the record show

  Beneath this flag of poetry raised

  Reigns the triumph of Beauty Pure

  ~

  And with that, the Beauty at the Heart of Life's joyful spectrum loved its way to sway over all anew in another Life made Love

  She: You inspired it

  He: No, it was you, this, all of it.

  She: Where's it going?

  He: ... melting ... into you ... melting into you

  Part III

  TEN YEARS ON

  Chapter 17

  A Madman’s Words

  “Jack, can you wake up and hold me?” I whisper. Shuddering as if it was a cold winter day, even though it is a warm English September night. Why had that guy been in my dreams? It is so scary to me. Zelda’s birthday party is tomorrow. I have to make everything perfect for her. Is the stress making me have nightmares?

  “Dahling, tell me what’s wrong?” Jack’s soft voice soothes me as he places his arms and impossibly long legs around me. “Are you having those nightmares again?” he innocently asks.

  “Oh, Jack, just hold me. Make the bad dreams disappear. It’s nothing, really. Just a crazy dream about long forgotten things.”

  Jack coughs that terrible tobacco hack. “We will go back to the U.S. so that Zelda can see her family and your friends. We shall do this as soon as her birthday is over. What’s the weather like in Atlanta, then? Better than Cornwall, right? Maybe we can go for Christmas.” He kisses me on the lips, then on the forehead. “Let’s go back to sleep, beautiful.” He smiles in the darkness. Then, he cradles my face in his hands, kisses me sweetly and passionately. “You do know that you have nothing to fear here. You are safe, Liz.”

  With that, I mold my body into his craggy frame, nuzzle my head against his strong shoulder, and the tears flow without stopping. Why did I dream about Pete and the cabin? How could I remember that guy after meeting Jack and all the joy that he brought into my life?

  The dream, well it is more a nightmare, is always the same, every single time. He is living in that cabin on Walden’s Ridge, looking like some type of wild mountain man – unwashed, unkempt – nothing the way he had been when we met years ago. His blond hair is a like a tangle of copperhead snakes. It is as if he has lost his mind, or is lost in the wilderness, trying to find his way. He reads poems to the birds and the bubbling creek that drifts by his cabin. At night, he practices his verses on the cicadas and tree frogs and an occasional owl. None of which are interested. Yet, he continues to write his poems and read them aloud.

  The only creature that seems to care is the Cherokee warrior, whose ghost stands guard along the dark of the nighttime tree line as the lightning bugs flicker and fly through the night. The Cherokee warrior watches and listens, as do ten ghostly white figures that hover, hazily amongst the trees in the darkness. The warrior watches Pete intensely, then turns slowly to look directly at me. I know this warrior. He appeared before when I was in a dream state. Who has he come for now? Has he come for me?

  My skin becomes clammy from fear. What will Zelda do without a mommy? I begin to cry again as Jack cradles me in his arms, kisses my neck, and gently rocks me into a more peaceful sleep. Yet, the dreams will always be back, always the same, until tonight, when I could hear the madman’s words. Words I can never bring myself to tell Jack.

  Unheard & Unseen Cries From The Tennessee Wilderness

  MY CONFESSION #1

  Once upon a time, I was a father

  - The sun is shining through my cabin door

  I was a man on my way in the world

  - My Bible's on my table before me

  And then my weaknesses proved far too strong

  - The sun is edging towards my savior

  Yes, I knew love, but my love had gone wrong

  - My soul is edging towards your book, too

  My God! I didn't love you strong enough

  - But now your bees are working my meadow

  By Pete Hendrix

  MY FAVORITE THING #2

  My favorite thing is lying on my back

  With your bees slow buzzing all around me

  Just gazing up at your perfect blue sky

  Because I know that you are perfect true

  My God of all who washes sins away

  I love to feel your sun upon my face

  My God of love, who finds the wayward lost

  I love to feel your son within my soul

  O how you warm with hope of better things!

  To draw from me the Devil's poison stings

  by Pete Hendrix

  YOU LIED TO ME #3

  Again and again, you lied! you bastard

  I'd like to say you were plain ol' stupid

  But no, there's nothing stupid about you

  Liar! Mister clever-clever, LIAR!

  Your lying to others was bad enough

  But lying to me, to yourself! LIAR!

  So many lies, a lie for all seasons

  Look me in the eye, face your evil lies

  Lying to me! to yourself! LIAR! You

  Yes, I lied to myself, I confess it

  by Pete Hendrix

  MY TRAIL OF TEARS #4

  How can I go on, my honor now gone?

  Without honor, what sort of man remains?

  No gentleman! I am no gentleman

  'It's all about winning,' that's what they said

  'Be a winner, Pete,' and I was, I won

  And lost everything that really matters

  And so I tread this trail of fallen words

  Oh how I do shed! shed my tearful words

  Mile after mile of grief pours from my heart

  How can love have led me this woe to tread?

  By Pete Hendrix

  THE GHOSTS I MADE #5

  These are the names of the people I killed

  When I crashed my car onto that railway

  Led by my greedy lust to have your love

  When all your eee-s were simply not enough

  When I just had to get behind the wheel

  When I had to see you deep in the night

  That fateful night when I killed these people:

  Dale Daniels, Candice Brown, Jodie Markham

  Mo Yuill, Bill Dexter, Dave Smee, Lil Bix

  Kurt Schmidt, Jos Costa, Vincent Bee ... all gone

  by Pete Hendrix

  ON WALDEN RIDGE #6

  I sit and see you faces in the trees

  You try to tell me not to feel so bad

  That it was only your lives that I took

  But your forgiveness only makes it worse

  Were you to haunt me with spooky feelings...

  That I'd understand, that I could deal with

  But this! forgiveness... Please don't forgive me!

  You know I'm too weak to take my own life

  Must you look at me like this? with sorrow!

  Please! Stop haunting me with your forgiveness!

  by Pete Hendrix

  WALNUT STREET BRIDGE #7

  I'll never show my face downtown again

  My website pages I closed right away

  Pete Hendrix online no longer exists

  No more eee-s, texts, attachments, passwords

  For Pete Hendrix is no more 'Sir, Yes!' No!

  Sir, No will never show his face again

  My cabin has no electricity

  No keyboards, no screens, no phones, no contact

  No face, no mirrors, no reason to shave

  For 'Scenic City's' seen the last of me

  by Pete Hendrix

  WHAT GOOD'
S SORRY? #8

  I killed your folks when I crashed my BMW

  All America was shocked by my deed

  'That's him, Pete Hendrix,' the dirty bastard

  'Guy's online affair led to a train wreck'

  Can't say I know how you feel, 'cause I don't

  All I know is that I killed all your folks

  And that saying sorry won't change a thing

  I wish that jury had found me guilty!

  What good's sorry when you've killed ten people

  Sorry can't undo the evil I've done

  by Pete Hendrix

  WHERE IS SHE NOW?#9

  I had that dream again the other night

  Where I place the blindfold over your eyes

  Instead of touching you, I leave the room

  And see the ten faces of my victims

  'Well done Pete,' says Bill Dexter, 'Put it there'

  He shakes my hand, his grip is cold, dead cold

  I'm puzzled how he can seem so alive

  I turn in search of you, but you're not there

  'Where is she now, Pete?' Bill Dexter asks me

  I know that I must answer him but can't

  He has this look of patient disbelief

  by Pete Hendrix

  LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN #10

  Wild-eyed and bloodied, he stumbles my way

  'Damn Yankees got us in a ring of fire'

  He clutches my sleeve and falls at my feet

  'Tell my wife, tell my...' A fog swirls around

  General Grant will say, 'It's all poetry.'

  The trees seem to close in tight around us

  'Tell my wife ... I'll wait for her in Heaven'

  He grabs my hand and pulls me in closer