Sin and Zen, #1

by S. W. Stribling

  Alice talked mostly with Rose and me and then Louise when she showed up, Alice was still uncomfortable with English.

  Murphy, Swanlove, and I spoke mostly in English and told our same old war stories from the Legion and our drinking days.

  All was jolly and merry. Everybody was smiling, talking, eating, drinking, and then Kay came in.

  ‘Oh, am I late?’ Kay said.

  ‘A little.’ I said.

  Most people had finished eating by this point, and there was plenty left. We made room for him and he took off his jacket and sat down. His face was red, and he kept smiling.

  ‘What the fuck are y’all looking at?’ He said.

  Everybody started to quietly return to talking while Kay fixed himself a plate.

  ‘Oh, Will,’ Kay said from across the table, ‘so this is fucking Thanksgiving?’

  ‘Yeah, bud,’ I said. ‘Give some thanks and eat up.’

  He ate his plate in two or three bites. Then started harassing everybody at the table. Most people knew him by now and most weren’t a fan. I could feel they were getting ready to leave.

  ‘Thanks for inviting us, Will’ Ackerman said. Then we gave a hug and Jenny and I did bisous as they left.

  ‘Je dois partir aussi,’ Rose said, ‘Je travaille ce soir.’ More bisous and another person gone.

  ‘What the fuck’s going on?’ Kay said. ‘Everybody’s leaving? Don’t be boring.’

  Another hour went by and Kay was only getting more excited.

  ‘Merci, Will,’ Louise said, ‘pour le dîner. C’était très sympa.’ More bisous.

  ‘My mom is probably waiting on me.’ Pierre said. I gave him some food for her and he left.

  ‘This is shit.’ Kay said. ‘Worst party ever.’

  ‘You want me to kick his ass.’ Swanlove said.

  I laughed.

  ‘So leave, Kay.’ I said.

  ‘You’re a bunch of cunts.’ He said. And he left grabbing another biscuit for the road.

  Alice and I were snuggling at this point while Swanlove, Katie, Murphy, and I spoke in English.

  Alice knew we were all heavy drinkers, but she still left frustrated once it got late. She wanted to call it a night and go to bed, and I didn’t want to kick them out.

  So she went downstairs to bed alone.

  Swanlove staggered home not much later, and that left Katie, Murphy, and myself as the last ones standing.

  We must have stayed up for hours later. Alice was sending me texts from downstairs. She couldn’t sleep because we were being too loud. That and she was jealous at how well Katie and I got along. She had nothing to worry about, but I understood, though I didn’t react as if I did.

  Eventually Katie and I decided it was late, and Murphy was in his repetitive state, so I offered them a place to crash, but he felt well enough to walk home.

  The last of the hugs and bisous for the night and I started to clean up. I stopped halfway done though, and went downstairs to lie down and call it a day myself.

  Alice was awake but said nothing to me.

  THANKSGIVING HAD ENDED, and I spent the entire next day recovering from the hangover. The dinner itself went well enough. The most embarrassing thing had been calling my dad and putting him on speakerphone so the others could hear an Arkansas accent.

  The apartment was still in a state. Alice had done the dishes, but after that we spent the rest of the day having sex and watching ‘30 Rock.’ It seemed everybody left in a rough state and spent the next day recovering.

  Today though, people would come over to get the things they had left behind. Swanlove was on his way to grab his pipe, and a few others left without their jackets.

  I was still recovering and felt another shit coming on. It would do me good, along with a shower, and then I’d have to attack the kitchen and do my best to catch back up to the digital world; emails, texts, etc.

  As I was sitting there though, I felt happy in my extended hangover. Alice on one side, my puppy on the other. I felt so comfortable, so damn loved. I was thankful.

  57

  It was officially the first day of the last month of the year. My laundry list of things to do seemed to never end; haircut, ship off Christmas presents, pay rent, laundry, chase after that fucking carte vitale more, prepare my lesson plans, and send in my facture to get paid. The shit never ended. Fuck I was looking forward to the upcoming Christmas break, so I could just sit down and read a book in peace without thoughts creeping in of all the things that needed to be done tomorrow.

  I was supposed to be going to see a movie with Alice, but I had thought about canceling since the night we made the plans. I felt like I needed more alone time, plus movies just felt like a waste of money and I was just starting to break even financially.

  But money wasn’t really the issue or Alice. It was this desire to be alone. I couldn’t tell if it was a healthy feeling, a healthy desire or another sort of depression trying to find its way out. I figured even if it was another round of the black dog, it would still be better to stay home alone and face him head on. I had gotten better at talking to this beast that had become a part of my life.

  I also considered having Alice over so she could see this side of me and judge how she reacted to it all. She would be here but without my attention. She would just be a body in the room while I was off in my dark world. I figured it could be good for us for two reasons. To show her how I needed my alone time and to give her a chance to get comfortable with that. And if this was the black dog coming for me again, it might be good to have her around. She could help me out of it, more than I could usually help myself in those states.

  I started to think about drinking. I had really cut back and losing a whole day to a hangover over the weekend reminded me of that. I thought I should either cut back even more to avoid losing days like that, or go back to drinking everyday so the hangovers weren’t as bad. My bank account balance liked the sober me better, and I even got excited at the prospect of being back in the black within a few months. Shit, the black dog was creeping in and reminding me that a lot could happen in a few months.

  ALICE AND I ENDED UP watching the new Coen brothers film. It was as good as all the rest of them. But I wasn’t in the best of moods and the black dog slept with me that night along with my happy black dog, Maverick. Unfortunately, neither he nor Alice could protect me in my dreams. I didn’t have to wake until 10h, but it was 10h40 by the time I got up and out the door. I felt bad rushing Maverick’s walk in the morning when I slept in like that or asking Alice to take care of him for me.

  But sleeping was still a struggle, and when I slept it was always to the strangest of dreams that left me feeling frustrated. I would wake up, remember them, get frustrated and go back to sleep to try again and then repeat this cycle 2 or 3 times before giving up and just getting up, remembering only bits of each dream. I knew the first one was about Maju, my Argentinian ex-wife back in America. We were on some metro system, traveling from one place to another, but never arriving at where we wanted to be. Something bad happened to her, but I couldn’t remember what, just that half of her face was always covered. I couldn’t really remember much more than that, other than the feeling of being in more control of the dream than I normally was, but also more frustrated at the things I couldn’t control. It all gave me a headache and another shit mood to start my day.

  I told Alice about my shit mood because of the dream and asked if I could be alone for some time. She took it okay. She got a bit stressed and took her medicine for her panic attacks, but said she would stay at her place. I told myself it was for the best. I loved having her around, but this wasn’t fair to her.

  So I tried to fight the spell. A new day. A new week. A new to-do list. Another chance to get ahead in this world or fall further behind.

  I just had to make it to Christmas break I kept telling myself. I hoped that my plans with Pierre to go to his hometown in central Romania for a week long of skiing would go through.

  I
also got an email from Aviva, Cathy, Friedrich, and the Dutch couple from my Nepal trip, wishing me a one-year anniversary of our trip. Damn. It should make me smile, but it just made me feel worse. What was I going to say to them? They seemed to have all been traveling the entire time I had been gone. Should I tell them about the drama with Claudia whom they knew by picture and stories? Or all the bullshit that ensued afterwards? The crazy, blurry summer and how I achieved nothing of substance, only consuming many substances. Or how my life was finally starting to settle with work and a girlfriend and being responsible. Fuck, I was a wreck or boring. I would have to come up with something and respond later.

  Then that reminded me I had other emails to respond to that I had postponed waiting for a better mood, particularly my sister, one person I had always kept in touch with. The black dog was laughing at me now through a scowl.

  I WOKE UP IN A SWEAT at 5h30 and couldn’t go back to sleep, but remembered two of my dreams. One involved skydiving with Robin, a Swedish guy that I was with in 2°REP. I kept jumping, and my parachute kept closing just before landing and breaking my leg all over again. The pain was intense and left me laying on the ground until I got back up to do it again. And I did, multiple times. I would jump, the parachute would close, and I would end in a lot of pain each time. Every jump, I would be scared but excited. I would adore the fall and then end with the same horrifying result.

  That dream didn’t end until I went into the next dream where my brother died. I went to his house and started collecting his stuff, which was a lot of baseball memorabilia. And while I was collecting his stuff, I had flashbacks of the times I had spent with him. Not real-life events, but things that happened in my dreams before with him. Most of it just involved sitting in the kitchen together, cooking, talking, and drinking Nesquik.

  I got my Christmas gifts wrapped and shipped off and then bought and wrapped Alice’s gifts; a toy set of cleaning stuff, a toy set of cooking stuff, a book on how to draw cats, a pair of house shoes, and an art drawing kit with an easel, paper, charcoal, pastels, etc. I also bought a book for drawing nudes for myself and drew one of them when I got home. I suppose if there was anything that would save me in this world, it would be a woman. There would be no existence without them. I even thought about going back to get a starter paint set for myself. It was something I had always wanted to learn how to do and my art teacher back when I took random courses at Old Dominion University told me I would have a knack for it after he saw me work with charcoal and pastels. I enjoyed art, but I just didn’t see it as a real pastime or profession. Maybe I just didn’t have the discipline for it.

  The mornings were getting colder now and all I could think about was getting back into my nice warm bed under the covers.

  Then Alice called. She wanted to come over, but I told her it would be best to maintain the space. She didn’t like the idea, but said okay. I came off telling her I needed to learn not to be needy of her or her attention. And a large part of that was true, as when I came home without her already there, it felt strangely empty. I had already become too accustomed to her presence in my life and in my space. It had been moving fast. Well, but fast. I needed to breathe and catch up mentally. The feeling of losing someone was still lingering in my thoughts. I couldn’t rush into this too quickly with this one. No more than I had already done.

  I could tell it was hard on her too as she sent me messages in the middle of the night saying she couldn’t sleep without me. I had the same problem. I had tried everything; writing, soft music, incense, meditation. Nothing was happening, other than a sleepless night. I never slept well, but at least I slept some when she was around. So we stayed up talking for an hour until she dozed off and not long after, I did too. My thoughts that night ended with hoping the space would bring us closer together rather than further apart.

  One thing she said echoed through my mind like a lullaby that could put a baby to sleep, ‘You are perfect in somebody’s world.’

  58

  I was supposed to wake up this morning to go do that carte vitale waiting in line and paperwork nonsense, but no. I slept. Woke. Rolled over. Slept. Dreamt. Woke. Rolled over. Slept and repeated that process at least half a dozen times until just after lunch. Did I feel like a dirty, lazy good-for-nothing? Yeah, I did, a little, but then not so much. After a ‘morning’ walk with Maverick that feeling faded away like the clouds across the sky.

  No doubt there was the feeling I should do something productive with my time now that I was up. But not today. Not today. I paid rent. Got a new class with a girl named Juliane for this Friday and picked up my check from the language academy I worked at. Which then made me wonder where my check from GMPA was. Fucking government.

  I was walking above the ground. I just didn’t care anymore. I guess I bound it to happen, pushing myself to be productive these past few weeks, making every minute count for something.

  Sleeping in was a nice, fat middle finger to my ambitious side. A good side to have, but a side that was driving me crazy. I would keep the day in the same tone. I would have Alice come over, order some takeout, and have the day off.

  Sing with me:

  ♪ Je Ne Veux Pas Travailler ♪

  Ma chambre a la forme d’une cage

  Le soleil passe son bras par la fenêtre

  Les chasseurs à ma porte

  Comme des petits soldats

  Qui veulent me prendre

  {Refrain:}

  Je ne veux pas travailler

  Je ne veux pas déjeuner

  Je veux seulement oublier

  Et puis je fume

  Déjà j’ai connu le parfum de l’amour

  Un millions de roses

  N’embaumerait pas autant

  Maintenant une seule fleur

  Dans mes entourages

  Me rend malade

  {au Refrain}

  Je ne suis pas fière de ça

  Vie qui veut me tuer

  C’est magnifique

  Être sympathique

  Mais je ne le connais jamais

  {au Refrain}

  Je ne suis pas fière de ça

  Vie qui veut me tuer

  C’est magnifique

  Être sympathique

  Mais je ne le connais jamais

  {au Refrain}

  59

  The next morning I got up by 08h. At my first few attempts of getting out of bed, I retracted back under the sheets like a snail in sunlight. It was cold in the sous-sol of my apartment and both my conscious and subconscious agreed that rubbing up against Alice’s warm naked body was more enticing than the daily routine of the cold and groggy world.

  But Maverick got up, and laid his head on the pillow and stared at me, so I asked him if he was sure, and he lifted his head and then plopped it back down on the pillow. I said okay, and we went for a nice long stroll in the cool morning air to start our day.

  The good thing about my Thursdays was the fact they ended by the early afternoon. I could get back home, prepare for the lesson plan for my new student the next day, and write something up real quick for my psyche visit with Lisa. I hated going there with nothing.

  Today was also my brother’s birthday. I had a dream about him he had a girlfriend and he was happy. It made me happy to see him that way. I thought about calling him, but I didn’t have his number.

  I also thought again about buying myself some painting supplies and just trying it out. I gave the nude drawing book to Alice, and she liked it. Being the clever girl she was, I think she got a hint of what I got her for her Christmas gift. Hopefully, what I got would still be enough. I told her not to spend too much on me, because I didn’t for her. Considering she didn’t have much money, I doubted that would be a problem.

  Then I thought about gifts for the guys. Pierre would no doubt like something that had to do with computer games. Then there was Murphy, Kay, Ackerman, and Swanlove. Swanlove had already bought me a carton of cigarettes and gave them to me. This Christmas was getting expensive
. I told myself I wouldn’t force it, but if I found something by chance, I’d grab it. If money hadn’t been an issue, I probably would have enjoyed giving them some shit, but money was an issue and so was my way of just giving it away.

  I needed to talk to Murphy about getting the business up and running.

  So, I met up with Murphy to go over the business. He was still supposed to be getting it up and running with paperwork and planning, calling me when he needed me to help, but he never called. I would always call him and the night would end the same way, he’d mumble something about waiting on something, and by the end of the meeting, we would be three or four pints in and back to just hanging out.

  I got pissed off with him this last time and walked off in a drunken state to roam the streets of Marseille.

  I got kicked out of a few bars.

  Then a woman was trying to take me home. I laughed it off at first. Then she kissed me and stuck her hand down my pants.

  I stepped away and pulled her hand out. I was hammered, but loyal.

  I went home after that and woke up the next day feeling like shit for even allowing that to happen. Then I turned it into a positive. Something I should be proud of. I turned down a woman with her hand on my penis and lips on my mouth while drunk in a gut reaction to stay faithful to a woman I had been dating for a few months. There had to be some reward for that.

  It played on my mind in a mostly negative way though and rather than taking advantage of my bi-weekly psyche appointment, I just didn’t even go. I didn’t even call.

  I went shopping in that time instead for some basics: Maverick’s food, toilet paper, socks, toothpaste, paper towels, and a gamer’s keyboard for Pierre for Christmas.

  I lugged it all home ready to settle for a quiet evening.

  ‘Happy 4 months!’ Alice said.