dmseay

He couldn’t make it out. The sign above the jukebox, it glowed a neon green. Said somethin’. The letters were hazy; it was a dreamlike state.

Stumbling over to the men’s room, the old man placed his hands in his jeans pockets. Pulling his right hand out to push the door open, a ten fell out along with a couple of one’s. The trucker didn’t notice. Just kept talkin’ to himself; singin’ along with the songs playin’; money on the floor got picked up quickly. A smile came to a young man’s face.

And he stood at the urinal; weavin’ back and forth; waitin’ on the flood to come. It did. All over his pants. Some things you can’t control. Went to zip up and felt the wetness; could smell the piss. Wondered why his pants were already zipped. Could’ve swore he pulled it out. Same as the night before and the night before that one. The owner of the Peterbuilt parked outside was on a roll. Had been since Thursday when he got into town and dropped his load at the Dollar General. Wearin’ the same smelly clothes. Hadn’t showered for days. Didn’t care.

He was on the road. Waitin’ for a load to take up to Zanesville. There was nothin’ special there. No wife. No kids. Just another town. He had never settled down. Thinkin’ he never would. The thought of a normal life never appealed to him. Gave him nightmares thinkin’ ’bout it. Some kinda world where from day to day you had a lousy life with a fat wife. Kids drivin’ you nuts. He’d wake up in a cold sweat.

The driver walked up to the bar in his piss soaked pants and asked what he owed. The bartender came up with some figure off the top of his head. He nodded. Reached into his pockets and discovered nothin’. Not a dime was to be found. He started to laugh. An uncontrollable laughter.

You got money for the tab?, the barkeep asked.

Hold on, he fished ’round some more in his pockets. Nothin’. My wallet’s out in my truck. Let me go get it and I’ll pay you, the bartender motioned over to the bouncer to follow him out.

The driver stumbled across the gravel to his purple truck. He loved that truck. Only thing left he could claim as his. He opened up the cab and climbed inside. The bouncer placed his large body ‘tween the door and the steel steps.

Here you go, the old man said. Here you go. Don’t ever let it be said I never covered my debts, the doorman counted the cash. There was no tip.

He passed out till mornin when the Mississippi sun came shinin’ through the window. Maybe by tomorrow he’d be in Zanesville. Just maybe.

Said she wanted proof that he loved her; more than just a hug and a kiss. Talked ’bout goin’ on some kind of trip with her. Like out to Vegas to get married by Elvis. Stay at some fancy hotel and eat at the best buffets. That’s what she said she wanted.

And, he gave it some thought. He’d stay up at night thinkin’ ’bout it while she’d lay on the other side of the bed; blankets coverin’ her petite little body; blonde hair wrapped ’round a pillow.

He’d just lay there for as long as he could; lettin’ pressure and tension build up inside. Done everything for her, he thought, a house, a new used truck. Got her a dog that yaps all the time. And now she wants to go to Vegas and get married, he’d push the covers down and make coffee in the middle of the night; dark outside; streetlights broken.

The middle aged man sat at the table in the kitchen; made toast to go with his joe. He’d eat and drink and think. Did he love her? Wasn’t quite sure. He’d been married before. Knew what that was all ’bout. And, so did she, he thought. Things were goin’ good, he mumbled, why’d she have to throw that in the picture. Cause that’s what women do, speaking softly between bites of buttered wheat. He stretched and blew a gust of air from his lungs. His mind was made up.

So, he walked back down the hall to the bedroom and saw her layin there. Walked over to her and patted her tiny arm. Wake up, he said into her ear. Come on now, get up, he cleared his throat.

I was dreamin’, she said. Just dreamin.

Well, get up and get dressed, he smiled.

Why?

I’m takin’ you to Vegas to make you an honest woman.

It’s three o’clock in the mornin’.

Don’t forget to pack your jacket. Gets cold out there in the desert at night.

It’s early Bud.

It’s time. We can get there by tomorrow night.

What ’bout work?

We ain’t comin’ back.

What’dya mean?

Start a whole new life out there.

Bud, we should talk ’bout this.

No time like the present.

We gonna get married?

Yeah, first thing we’ll do.

What’s with all the sudden?

Your words. They finally got to me.

That so?

Honey, be careful what you ask for.

And they rode off into the morning sun. Just them and that yapping little dog she called Ginger. They didn’t talk much. Just looked at signs and billboards along the way. Each one wondering what the other was thinking. Just quiet as cigarette butts were tossed out the windows.

He looked at her and she at him. They smiled. And, kept on driving.

We traveled the back woods ‘cross streams and ponds, over hills and what appeared to a boy’s eye to be mountain tops. All the trees were green from summer’s paint job; God’s steady hand on the brush.

There was all kinds of animals runnin’ ’round; deer and squirrels, jack rabbits and antelope, a few beavers buildin’ a dam out of sticks and mud; our huntin’ dogs lead the way. Where they were takin’ us to we had no idea. We were just two teenage boys in love with nature; dirt, trees, leaves, water, the smells of pines and fear as a snake sneaked it’s way in front of us; we pretended not to notice. Holdin’ our breath the whole time. Lucifer just kept on slitherin’. He did not tempt us on that day.

And we came upon abandoned cars and old pickups, rusted with sharp pieces hangin’ from the quarter panels. Had a hard time makin’ em out. Chevys, Fords, a Dodge or two, like people had just given up and left em there. Made us wonder.

Made you think ’bout man invading nature. Somebody once lived out here. But, there were no signs of houses, or tents. Just cars and pickups left behind. Old one’s. From the early 60’s. Why would people just leave belongings behind and take off like that?

I’m reminded of my own ramblings. Tossin’ everything in a dumpster and takin’ off to explore new land. Suppose you can just do better on feet. Least that’s been my experience.

I’ll return to the woods every chance I get. Get back to nature’s promises. These are rules to abide by.

It is a gray day and it is winter. Death is in the air. That’s one of nature’s promises too.

And, I say, I am ready.

There was no fire in the fireplace. Just a cold draft came into the room from the open flue. The wind stirred old ashes ’round and made a tunnel like noise, but, no fire.

Wood was stacked neatly on the racks and bundled up newspapers lay under the hickory and cherry wood. Nobody lit a match to it. People just looked at it and imagined. They dreamt that a fire was blazing; wearing shawls and quilts there in the living room.

Outside it was spitting snow. A tomcat cried ‘cross the street. Two flags flew on a pole next door. One said, “Don’t Tread On Me,” while the one on top was the flag of the United States of America; waving in the breeze.

The sun was going down and the dark hours would soon arrive. Some would stay in the front room and look at the fireplace, pictures on the walls, in total silence. Just sit there quietly. Wondering. Thinking about what warmth would be like. It had been so long since there was warmth. All they did was feel cold all the time; numb.

And they sat there. No one looked at others. There was no fire in the fireplace. Hadn’t been for a long, long time.

There was some kind of mystery to her; could never figure her out. One day she’d be jumping in the lake like a child, while on other days she stayed in her room and wept; balling like a baby wrapped up in a blanket; sometimes she kicked and screamed too.

The days with her went by fast. Nights she’d curl up next to me like a cat while other times she just sat at the kitchen table and stared empty like into space. I’d try talking to her. About things that would make her happy. Little things. Like birthday cake, ice cream on a hot summer’s day, taking rides out in the country, walks through a garden on a crisp autumn day. She wouldn’t smile. She just stared; catatonic like.

I visit her as often as I can at the home. Sometimes she recognizes me while other times she pays no attention. I bring her chocolates, the cherry cordial kind. While she eats them, I remember when she was younger. Thinking back to when she talked about reading the Bible and what the afterlife would be. She talked of singing and jubilation, golden paved roads, a mansion on the hill. Those were her ideas of paradise. Wonder if she still thinks of them.

He looked at the pile of stuff on the kitchen table. Outdated credit cards, used gift cards, combs, brushes, eyeliner, a tube of pink lipstick, some change; all of it just dumped on the table. It was like she was cashing in. Giving up. Leaving pieces of her behind. Small pieces.

The old man looked closely at the items. It’s amazing what a woman keeps in her purse, he thought, mumbling to himself. What did he know of her,? the old man shook with fear, What did I know of her?

And, a note was left behind. He read it out loud. Dear Pete, Sorry to leave you in the middle of the night, but it seemed to be the right time to do it. It wasn’t because of a lack of love that I left you. I just had to go and be a woman that runs with wolves.

As you can see, I’ve taken very little with me; a woman in the wild needs very little. And, I’ve left you the empty contents of my life; small change, lipstick, credit cards, etc. Hang onto them. I might need these things when I get back.

That’s right, I’m not staying out in the wild forever. Soon I will be home. Soon. But for now, it’s time I howl at the moon.

Love, Doris.

This troubled old man collected the pieces and placed them in a bag. He then hid the bag and started counting the days. The days till she got back. Pete marked the days on his trailer wall. After a hundred he gave up, began drinking and turning mean; questioning why she had to go.

Some people reach a point where they have to find something new, he thought. Some folks ain’t satisfied with what they got. She never was. She never was.

The nights began to get cold. The old man slept with two blankets. He hoped she was warm. Hoped she was in good health. That’s all be thought about. That’s all.

She said she’d be back. What she said. He took the bag of her left behind life and looked it over. He began to laugh. Shook his head. And a ghost walked into the room. He greeted her; she had open arms. Asked why? She just shrugged her shoulders and said, Shhh.

When you don’t have peace you gotta go find it.

Did you find it?, she nodded her head. I’m glad, the old man said, I’m glad. He blew the ghost a kiss. She blew one back. And, with that, she was gone. She was gone.

No one wants to talk about it,she said. This mess you’ve made, she continued folding clothes, phone on her shoulder. I know you ain’t afraid of him. But, why go startin’ somethin’ when you don’t have to, the woman put a towel down on the couch and lit a cigarette.

You just listen to me you hear. He ain’t gonna stand for it. He’s a hard man Eloise and he’s just not gonna let you go off by yourself on some wildcat adventure,the blonde walked into the kitchen and poured herself some coffee.

Where is it you wanna go anyway…?

I don’t rightly know…

Why you always wantin’ to leave…?

Just some kinda freedom…some kinda mystery out there for me to discover. Maybe out in the desert. Go out to Utah or New Mexico and look at rocks. Big rocks. Go campin’ out there under the stars. Away from everything for awhile. Just away. I’ve never been away. Never felt free.

Is that what you want? Some kinda freedom. He buys you things. Puts a roof over your head. What more do you want?

Haven’t you ever wanted to see the world? Or, part of it? Don’t you wanna see somethin’ ‘sides the normal. I wanna go to Paris and have coffee in a cafe. I wanna go to Italy and eat real spaghetti.

Well, he ain’t gonna let you. You can dream all those things, but he’s gonna put his foot down. And then, he’s gonna make it hard on you out of jealousy. He’s probably gonna think you’re with another man.

Wouldn’t that be fun? A brief affair with some cowboy or maybe a business man in the city.

Talkin’ crazy and I can’t let this happen.

When did you give up?

Give up what?

Fun. Adventure. Somethin’ to keep you livin’.

I told you years ago you should’ve had kids. You still ain’t grounded. Got no roots. Been married…

Twenty years…

And you’re still wantin’ to be a wild child. We ain’t made for that. We’re house wives. This is it. Vacations, dinner, and the bed. We share it all. And, that’s the way it’s supposed to be. Don’t ya see that?

No Annie. I don’t. I don’t. I got other ideas.

He’s out there, she thought. Outside marking his territory, the skinny girl kept thinking. All ’round the yard, the corners of the house, the streets here in town. Lettin’ everyone know that he’s back. Maybe this time for good, she took a swig of coffee and flicked an ash in the green glass ashtray.

It’s been awhile, the brunette breathed in and out. Haven’t seen him since I don’t know when, she lit another cigarette. He always comes back so cocky. Gotta show off his new tricks to everybody. Probably got some woman on his arm. Taking her ’round to the local bars, places we used to go to, she sighed. Don’t miss those days.

Who am I kidding, her cheeks drawn in; whispered. That was awhile ago. Back ‘fore he took off the first time. Hell. He’s been gone so many times. Used to get post cards from him; Greetings from Alberta. You’ve got a friend in Ontario. Pictures of skyscrapers and barn silos. Of wheat fields and coffee shops. Always said he’d be home soon. Never kept his word. Well, I guess it’s whatever soon means. Could be three months. Maybe half a year. Always on the go.

She filled up her coffee cup and added cream. Said, We’ll run into each other soon enough. And, I’ll ask him to come back and he will; for the time being. Then he’ll be gone again. Chasing some dream out on Highway 40, or I95. And, I’ll miss him.

She took off in the used pickup truck he’d just bought. Said she wanted to go out for a ride; two weeks and he still hadn’t heard from her.

They put out an A.P.B.. Reported her as missing. Said she left in the afternoon wearing blue jeans, cowboy boots, and a white tee-shirt; said her red hair was tied in a ponytail.

But, the most important thing was the color of her eyes. They were emerald. Just as green as you ever saw. He fell in love with those eyes. Fell in love with em a long time ago. Ever since high school. He used to see her looking at him in class and he’d look back. Look back into those green eyes.

The cops said there was no trace of her. Said that the whole tri-state area was blank. No signs, no leads. So he rented a four door sedan and took off ‘cross America to find her. Figured he’d start by going south down to Texas past the Red River. Looked all over Dallas. Up and down the boulevards and streets in the dark with his headlights on. All over that town he searched and found nothing. So he moved on.

The factory worker went west to Lubbock and on into New Mexico. Part of him had stopped looking for her. He was just driving and thinking of her. That’s all his days and nights became. Just memories of her. Old memories of his true love.

The cops found the pickup eventually. The thing was beat to shit. Looked like some boys had taken it on a joy ride ’round Chicago. It was found over by Douglas Park. Windshield was busted and the front seat was torn. Her red scarf was found behind the seat. They kept it for evidence.

And he was called. Told bout the truck. Told that it didn’t look good. Part of him knew she’d left him a long time ago. The other part knew that now it was official.

midnight

watching snow fall

your scent lingers

as dreams come throughout the night

visions of you in gossamer

the dance begins

now until you lay with me again

good night love

our’s was never meant to end.