I take a deep breath and stare around. I see the candles burning. I see that they are almost out, well some of them are already. We don’t have money for new ones. My fifteen candles are down to eight. That’s not good. I wonder if they can last, how? They probably have six hours left. Do I have six straight hours in me right now? It should be easy. In the past I’ve done twenty hours but that was then. I have less energy and focus. The last eight days were not supposed to happen but they did and now I’m here. I’m here, wherever here is.
I pull up the document that has One on it. I go down a page and see the quote. Michael and I had decided to put a quote in the beginning of each story. It would be a quote that a character would say in the story. I remember when the first one was completed.
I was working at the second collection company and Savannah was like three months old or something. Michael was still in his apartment with his girl Tammy and their daughter. My supervisor at the time was an interesting man. He had energy that is hard to equal.
He and I had been talking about writing, and it was weird. He had been talking to someone else about me and about how I could never write. That’s what someone said. That I couldn’t write. He wouldn’t tell me who but I knew. How could she say that? She had no reason to say that other than how she interprets me from work as she had never read my writing. I know I have no education, no knowledge on what the rules are to writing but she was wrong. I can tell a good story. Writers know words. I know stories worthy to be told.
I was mad so instead of calling debtors I decided to write. I grabbed a pen and a scrap piece of paper. Three minutes later I was done. I called my supervisor and gave him the paper. I said this is a quote from our story. It was small and simple. The truth is that quote was not in the story yet, but after this day it would be.
“Civilizations rise and fall creating the beginning of a new Era and marking the end of an antiquated way of life. The battle between Good and Evil comes in many configurations, entities, and ways. The war is never-ending.”
Jason Writer
That was it, and by the expression on his face I knew to a minimum he was surprised. It was not as bad as he’d thought it was going to be. Jason Writer is the name of the main character in the Stories of T.B.O.T.E. and he was going to be the one to say those words. How or where I didn’t know yet.
The quotes worked out. We were able to come up with one for every story and each one is symbolic for the story they represent. We like them. Maybe it’s stupid, I don’t know. I yell out to the nothingness that is the basement.
Son of a dog! What am I doing? I need focus.
I remember when I was younger, my brother and I did all kinds of things. Most of them involved some sort of climbing in trees. We love to climb trees. In Kentucky we had all kinds of trees. Joey and I lived in the trees our Mom says. She’s right. We did.
I have to go. I pull myself from memory and I stand. I take a step to maintain balance as focus returns. Bathroom, I need to go. I walk upstairs and before I get to the top I hear the phone. I walk up into the kitchen and see Michael with the phone in hand. It’s my son Bryan on the phone.
I love my son and it tears me up inside that he doesn’t live with us. We have shared parenting but it’s not enough. He’s not old enough to choose which parent he wants to live with, not that it would be easy for him. I talk to him for a few minutes getting updates on the night before. It was Halloween. He tells me how his mask scared people and that he had a lot of fun.
I bet last night was the last time he goes trick or treating. It wasn’t at our house and that hurts. But that’s why you don’t have sex with someone until your married. I don’t think they do a good job of explaining that to kids in school. Because of sensitivities and society’s fear to repeat past mistakes it allows the minority to dictate to the majority. In school they can’t get personal. Love, hate, trust, honor, rights, privileges, none are aloud to be presented in detail in our schools. Why? Parents do it yourself is all I can say.
I remember. I was going to travel to the past, to when I was a kid in Kentucky. I shut my eyes and accept the blackness. I travel through the void for a second and then vision clears.
It’s Kentucky, I’m ten and my little brother Joey is seven. Our neighborhood had plenty of good trees to climb, but our favorites were the pine trees. The pine trees were perfect. There were three of them in a triangle formation at the corner of this field. It was a minute from our house and barely in yelling range if our Mom called us. We were in those trees almost every day and sometimes we’d sleep in them. The branches were close together like fingers on a hand. They spread out far and we could lie down without fear of falling. We could roll several feet and still have no worries.
I remember one time we saw a movie where the main character jumps from a cliff and falls through the branches of a pine tree and catches onto them or breaks his fall, I can’t remember. I do know that we thought it was cool looking and we wanted to try it. The pine trees were close enough together that we could jump from one to the other. Twice, that was all that it took for us never to do it again or not for a while anyway. The first time we climbed to the top of one and then we jumped. We hit several branches and then like in the movie we caught on to a branch. It was fun. That’s all I can say. It was fun but I don’t recommend doing it because the second time we did it, we had different results.
This time there were girls there and we were going to show off so of course it didn’t work. We climbed to the top and stared down at the girls. They were like, don’t do it, and we were like, it’ll be ok. Watch. We did it yesterday so we weren’t worried. We were like forty feet up when we jumped and that’s exactly how far we fell, bouncing and slamming into multiple branches until we smack the ground with our backs. Yes it hurt but there were no broken bones just scratches and cuts; it seems the branches do help slow you down.
The trees were also used as escape sometimes. When our Mom was going to spank us we’d climb the side yard tree. It was a tall thin tree that had branches that were like a ladder and we’d shoot up that tree like the wind. Sometimes when my older brother Johnny was chasing me I’d use the side yard or the back yard trees for escape. In the trees we were in different worlds. We were in spaceships, climbing mountains and anything else our youthful minds could create.
It doesn’t explain anything though. I still see blackness, and now I hear the whispers. Its fifteen cups of coffee and two hours later, I’m still here, I’m still in front of the computer. I have one giant cup of coffee left on the desk in front of me, and in the freezer is my Gatorade cooling to my desire. I hope I don’t forget it and it freezes like many before that I’ve wasted.
I remember the trees and I also remember the church. In another neighborhood that was five minutes away on a dirt bike, was a church. As soon as we saw it Joey and I knew what we were going to do. On the side of the church the landscaping goes up high enough to allow us to reach the slanting roof. We climbed on it and walked up to the middle. There’s an area in the middle that rose another five feet. We called it the top, and on top of the church it was amazing. A giant cross with poles all around made rolling off impossible.
We spent many nights on top of the church. We’d watch the stars and talk about nothing. On top of the church we were safe; we felt it and we knew it. I’ve been back to the church and gone to the top only four times as an adult. Every time it is the same. There is safety, clarity, and confidence. The next time we go to Kentucky we need to take our kids there.
Fear? Why do I feel fear? Why now? I don’t understand. Fear can create hesitations that extend through years. What is it I fear? What blinds me just as soon as I achieve focus? What steals my thoughts? What?
I look down and on a new document I see words, lots of them and I see the page number seven on the bottom. What is it? I read a few lines and instantly I remember. It is seven pages of a story that I can never work on. It’s T.B.O.T.E. related but it’s still a story I can never work on. I stand a
nd walk away from the computer.
Three minutes later I’m downstairs again. I had gone upstairs without thought but before I went back down I realized why I was there. I told Michael about what I saw or a little of it anyways. Then I came back down. In case I forget. In case something happens. What do I think can happen? Anything is the only answer I can say. Fear? What is fear? Fear is distraction from what you know. Why the fear? Why is it so strong in me?
I remember one time when Joey and I were younger. We were on one of the spring break trips with my father. I was twelve and he was eight. We were in Florida, at a hotel and it was the middle of the day.
My father was on business and would be back in less than an hour. Joey and I are in the pool swimming. It was fast and quick. Before I knew it I was talking to this guy. He was older and all I can say about his appearance is he was hairy. He was nice but he wouldn’t leave me alone. My Mom did a good job of telling me not to talk to strangers so I was polite and tried to end the conversation on many occasions.
This guy blew over my words and asked if I wanted to go on a walk with him. I was like no way. I didn’t say it but there was no way that I was going with this guy. He was weird and I knew it. I told him I couldn’t because I was watching my younger brother. He said to bring my brother and I told him no we wanted to swim. He smiled and kept talking and it took only a few seconds for him to ask us to go check his car out. He said it was on the other side of the fence. My brother swam up to me and heard this guy talking. There was no way we were leaving this pool. I was completely creeped out at this point and when my brother said Dad, I was happy. I turned around and there was my Dad in his suit walking towards us.
The guy said hi to our Dad then walked away. We got out of the pool and grabbed our towels. We told our Dad about the guy and instantly I saw anger on his face. He turned and scanned the area. The guy that was talking to his sons was walking fast toward the exit. Dad put his suitcase down and said to wait. He ran after that guy and as soon as my Dad was on the other side of the fence we hear tires peeling out and the sound of a car driving away fast.
A couple seconds later our Dad walks back to the pool area and he tells us about the car. There had been a car with its engine running and someone inside. He said the guy that was talking to us jumped in that car and they drove away fast. I learned that not everybody is to be trusted.
My brain hurts. I think I’ve gone too far. I think this time is the time I went one to many. I mean really you’re supposed to know when to say when. I know better, even if you can’t tell by my actions or lack of actions, I know better. I do. I have to. My life was simple and then I went and made a mess. I made my life unnecessarily complicated. It’s dark. It’s cold and I sit here weak, scared for the moment and afraid of the future. I shouldn’t be here but I am. Why? I know why, or at least I do when I don’t lie to myself. We all do. Right now I am cold, scared, and slowly losing grip.
Why, for a dream? Is it an attainable dream? I doubt it. But doubt is not right. Confidence is right. How did I lose my confidence? What was the event that started the entire downfall? I don’t know but who does? Scared, I’m scared of the future. I’m scared of the past. I sit in the basement afraid. Afraid of what I see. Afraid of what I hear, don’t hear, don’t see. This basement? Why am I here? I think I’ve lost it, my sanity, and reality, are they gone. Why?
I shake my head and my daughter is in the basement with me. Our four-year-old Savannah is in my chair and I‘m gently spinning her around and around. What happened and then I remember. I had left and gone upstairs. The rambling and garbage that was coming out of my thoughts was too much. I went upstairs and got my beverage from the freezer. Savannah was on the couch with Michael and she was acting up. She was trying to sleep and he wasn’t allowing her. If she naps now, she’ll never go to bed later tonight.
Ten minutes later I’ve taken Savannah upstairs and now I’m in my chair. I see my beverage. It’s perfectly frozen without being frozen. I’m five and a half hours into this. Still I have no direction. I struggle with focus and I battle my memories for reasons I don’t know.
I know sometimes my memories are stronger than my focus. After the fence incident I learned strength in numbers. I remember one of our friends was in trouble. I was still at home with my Mom and Joey was a senior in high school. Our friend was having trouble with some guys over a girl. With our friend it was always over a female. He calls us up and says he’s in trouble. I tell him to come over and then I start dialing.
We had a plan. He called those guys and told them to come over to our house. That’s what they did. They came over and parked in front of our apartment. Our new apartment I should say because we’d been kicked out of the apartment where the fence was torn down. I mean we were the ones that were asked to leave but it didn’t matter. This apartment complex was better.
The plan was set and was executed perfectly. When the car pulled up five guys instantly got out. My brother and our friend walk out of our apartment and then the yelling began. Those five guys had no idea that we had nine older guys inside the apartment and when we came running out they went running back to their car. It was funny because one of them was slower and he had to get in as the car was driving away.
I learned that in numbers we were strong. We were loyal and we had allowed not one of us to get picked on. Things started to change for us and if it weren’t for alcohol I’d have better memories. But I don’t or maybe I choose not to go there? I don’t. I won’t. I will not. I know where to go.
My vision blackens and I hear the soft whispers of the wind. It sounds like the pine trees in Kentucky. There is calm, there is peace, and there is focus.
I wake twenty minutes later. My head is on my desk and when I look up I see two more pages on the new document. I can’t work on that story. I can’t. If time was ever to allow me to work on that story it is far from now.
My time. Six hours. It’s gone. Now what? Continue? Can I? Should I? I don’t know.
Memories continue to slam into my awareness and my mind is piercing with screams of pain. Over and over, one after the other my memories overtake me until I push away from my desk.
I will not allow that to happen. I need rest. The night is still to come and I will need energy. I will shut the computer off and attempt to rest.
Three hours later I’m in the basement again. I’m confused but I know one thing. I know that you can’t have one without the other and there is always what’s in between. I know what that means. I do, but it doesn’t always matter or register until afterwards. Sometimes I think I’ve increased my intelligence but at the same time I think I’ve gotten stupider. I know there is reason for fear. There is reason for panic. There is just greater reason for calm, focus, and understanding.
Why? Why? Why? I hate that question. I do. It’s a horrible question.
Dag-nab-bit my coffee is cold and my Gatorade is warm. My time? Where did it go? I was here a second ago. I just came downstairs. I had kissed my wife and tucked her into bed. I made coffee and took my drink downstairs. I was ready for the night. What happened? Did I blink?
I remember, I said good night to Perry and his girlfriend on the couch then I came downstairs. That’s it but that’s not it. Somewhere between here and there I lost time. Did I mentally go somewhere? Then I remember. I had. I remember where I went. I was in the past. I was on the day that we were finishing Six.
It was a Friday. We were thirty or forty pages from being done. It was like five in the afternoon. I remember I was in the kitchen, making coffee. Michael was with his girlfriend Tammy and they were not doing well. They had been fighting the last few days and it was coming to an end. So when he walked through the front door and into the kitchen. I knew it right away.
“It’s over.”
“What?”
“She’s moving to her Mom’s.”
I didn’t know what to say. He was a good guy and she was stupid is what I’m thinking but I do not say it.
“I’
m sorry Michael.
He said he was ok, that he was probably in shock. He was. He had a movie with him and we were going to watch it later. He, Sally and I were going to watch this movie. This was to distract him before night came. Everyone knows that after a relationship ends there is nothing you can do to prevent thought during the night but until then we could. Fortunately in our house we have so many kids there is always a distraction. In our house there is a lot of distraction.
Six was almost done and I was mentally gone. It had been rough and we were nearing the end. I was going to take the next three hours and we’d watch our movie at eight P.M. It was going to be easy I only had to average ten possibly fifteen pages an hour. I could do that.
That’s not what I did. It was a little past eight and I was not done. There was no way to predict how long it was going to take. I told Sally and Michael to just watch the movie without me. Movies are a deal to me so that was not something I normally did. But tonight my friend was in trouble and he needed distraction. I needed to finish this story because my brain was fried.
I went to the basement and they began the movie. I went to my chair and put my headphones on. I stare at the screen and scan the document pulled up. It is Five, I’m scanning a certain battle and instantly I’m there. I’m pulled from my chair as the blackness steals my presence and travels me into our story.
I’m there. I’m in Five. I stand beside the river of Blue Fire. I hear the weapons clashing as an intense battle plays out before me. I feel the character’s thoughts, concerns and intensities as they battle back and forth. They both have remorse. They don’t want this battle but there is no choice for them.
That’s it, that’s all I needed. I pull myself from memory and stare at the screen in front of me. I pull the document Six up and stare at the last line typed.
I traveled to Six and I experienced the fog city, and I saw the city of white light. I typed new thoughts for an hour and then I was done. I needed coffee and I needed to slow down. I knew what the distraction was but I told myself that I was being stupid. I was and I knew it.
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