dmseay

did you think she was going to stay…thought she’d be there through tough times…guess again…

I didn’t know what to think…blindsided…like she cast a spell on me or something…never saw it coming…

none of us do…what…this…that…’bout money…always about money…when you have it all is right with the world…right with her…broke…that’s a different story…

wasn’t a perfect husband…

none of us are…

cheated on her…

so be it…you are not responsible for those actions…there’s always someone wanting to fuck up our game…eh…get it…man…woman…someone wanting to see you blow up…call it jealousy…call it coveting….and they will do what they have to do to see you become miserable…true…why…because they’re miserable…miserable people are the most dangerous…these women you were having affairs with…who took your money…

yes…

miserable…

guess so…

yes…yes…you bet they are…and they see you…easy pickins…you’re a likeable guy…some would say loveable…got some dough…they wanted to see you become miserable just like them…because…because they can…

think so…

yes…and now you are in need of cleaning…wash this misery away…

she’s gone…

yes…she is gone…and she won’t be back…because you chose misery…

she didn’t know about all those women…

they all know…

At first there was silence…he sat there in the quiet of night…’round three in the mornin’…tryin’ hard to hear somethin’…a car go by on the boulevard outside his window…the train wailin’ downtown…some alley cat in need of a fix…short sounds…brief noises interupting his stillness…he longed not to be lonely…

And he looked ’round his room at bare walls…a plant in need of water…dusty old pennies on a counter top…a butcher’s knife he’d gotten from his mom’s kitchen when she passed…various notes and bills…receipts and letters loosely piled in a stack…a bottle of aspirin…these were his possessions…

When he was married things were kept in order…not such a mess ’round the place…books placed on shelves…dirty clothes put in a basket…tables were dusted…coffee pot cleaned…she kept things in order…too much order…even pens were stored away in drawers next to pads of paper to write lists upon…grocery lists…chores to be done…days marked on calendars with events scribbled on them…church picnic on the 27th…Good Friday coming up later in April…a cousin’s birthday on the 18th…he no longer kept track of such things…days just ran into each other…night time turning to morn too quickly…he dreaded seeing the sun…

But for now it was night time…it was quiet…too quiet…this room was silent…filled with nothing but items he’d collected from the road…travels all over the U.S. …a rosary from a monk in the Bronx…a Bible given to him from a street preacher in Pittsburgh…a copy of Ulysses he’d picked up in a bookstore out West…old Greyhound bus tickets to Cincinnati…Chicago…New Orleans…a bottle of whiskey given to him by an old lover…that’s all he had in this room were memories…they kept him awake at night in the silence…

This room…this room…was his home…

Pieces of America: Prose and Poetry https://www.amazon.com/dp/1976262453/ref=cm_sw_r_other_apa_i_9AxKCbW4ACQCT

Dialogues https://www.amazon.com/dp/1727675045/ref=cm_sw_r_other_apa_i_yyxKCbPXAGW63

He kept thinkin’ she’d come back to him…looked ’round the house for items she might’ve left behind…a watch…maybe a spoon ring…some trinket he’d won for her at the county fair back when they were kids…just somethin’ small he could keep in his front pocket to remember her by…he found a prediction from a Chinese fortune cookie…read it and placed the small piece of paper in his wallet along with a couple of bills…a debit card from the bank…cigarette coupons…

She kept all her fortunes…every time they ordered out she’d ask for extra cookies…she liked havin’ a choice…this one said…,you’ll have long and fruitful life…,printed in red ink…smelled like a vanilla bean…for some reason she left it behind…maybe it was a sign…he thought…maybe a sign that she wanted him to have this fortune instead of her…purposely leavin’ it there on the counter the mornin’ she took off…next to the half eaten kung pao chicken…it was a good fortune…he wondered why she didn’t take it…maybe she left it behind by accident…maybe…

A long and fruitful life…, he wasn’t sure ’bout that…fruitful life…what did that mean…kids…money…women…would every thing he touched from now on turn to gold…the old man didn’t think so…no…this fortune was meant for her…she was a young one with a future ahead of her…his days were numbered…

So…he got in the pickup truck and went out lookin’ for her with that fortune in his back pocket…went lookin’ everywhere…all over town…past the strip malls…bars…the trailer park where he knew she had friends…her Dodge was nowhere to be seen…he decided at that point to make it a nationwide search…he’d go all over America lookin’ for her…no clues…just instinct…

And he headed out east on 30…drivin’ into Ohio with stops in Toledo…Sandusky…Cleveland…drove on 80 down to Youngstown and over into Pittsburgh on 76…looked all over them cities…nowhwere…she was nowhere…called relatives of her’s…her sister in Albany…a cousin in Framingham…they hadn’t heard anyhting from her…least that’s what they said…

Then one night he broke down…started cryin’ at a truck stop to a Johnny Cash song playin’ on the radio…AM station…it was at that point he’d figured it out…she was gone…never to be seen by him again…it was a fruitless search…maybe the whole thing was a joke…a trick played by her…maybe she could see him in a crystal ball makin’ a fool of himself…and she was laughin’ at him…he had these strange thoughts…had ’em…

There at the truck stop he took out the fortune and read it one more time…ripped it up into small pieces and blew it out into the night air…sat there and thought ’bout where to go next…laughed out loud…,fruitful life…,he wiped his green eyes and put her in gear…it was time to go home…

He had good intentions of goin’ to church…woke up early on Sunday and read from the Bible…story of Cain killin’ Able…lyin’ to God ’bout it…bein’marked for the rest of your days…walkin’ ’round earth with a target on your back…He thought ’bout that…

Hadn’t been to church in a long time…used to sit in the pews next to his momma when he was a little boy…watched as communion was passed…people breakin’ off bits of cracker and drinkin’ grape juice…do this in rememberance of me…thought ’bout that too…

And the singin’…all the singin’ that took place…singin’ without instruments…just voices cryin’ out…some louder than others…he never sang…was scared to…would stand there in silence…thinkin’ thoughts a million miles away…wonederin’ if his soul was saved…always wondered…

He was baptized when he was younger…had a hard time believin’…had a hard time havin’ faith in the invisible…and all that sin…all that sin he carried ’round…got to thinkin’ that maybe he was marked by God too…spent his days in fear of havin’ no fear…that was his greatest sin…

The man had good intentions of goin’ to church…just never quite got ’round to it…somethin’ held him back…maybe he was tired of lyin’ to God…

Last time he saw her she was up on stage singin’ a song to a packed house…just her and a guitar…some open mic night at a downtown bar where people whispered durin’ performances…beer bottles rattled on tables…customers ordered shots of Jaegermeister…Rumplemintz…and other cough suppressants…she just kept on playin’…

And she was singin’ a Rickie Lee Jones song…Last Chance Texaco…singin’ ’bout long stretches of highway…a love that got away…a heart in need of re-chargin’…she sang every word like she meant it…like it was the last time anybody was gonna hear her sing…she put her soul into it…she put her soul into everything…everything…

Used to wake up in the mornin’ and go for a walk ’round town…past old gas stations…bars with neon still glowin’ from the night before…walked past Klem’s Diner…a bakery where it always smelled like fresh cinnamon toast…county court house…as they walked she’d hum these songs…talk ’bout how the day was gonna go…whose turn it was to do the dishes…what was for dinner that night…they’d hold hands…

Said she always had this dream ’bout bein’ a singer…hittin’ the road one day…just her and that guitar…said she didn’t know if she was good enough…he told her she was…told her she had a real pretty voice…she’d just smile…start hummin’ songs again…told her she should pursue her dreams…asked her what was stoppin’ her…she didn’t say anything…just held his hand a little tighter…a little tighter…

Last time he saw her she was up on stage singin’ to a packed house…it was time…it was time…

What keeps you up at night…,she asked…,what is it that makes you roam ’round this house at three in the mornin’…,she poured herself a Diet Coke…plopped a couple of ice cubes in the glass…,want somethin’…,he just shook his head no…

You think ’bout her dontcha…I can tell…it’s been awhile now…always in the back of my mind…I can tell you that much…never knew what hurt was till that day you told me…,she took another swig of her drink…brushed her blonde hair out of her face…,yeah…I think ’bout her too…,he looked out the window at the old Chevy in the driveway…first car they’d ever owned…

And the funny thing is I don’t even know what she looks like…could be a red head…a brunette…tall or short…not sure of your type anymore…used to think your type was me…’least that’s what you told me all them years ago…,she opened the refrigerator and moved some food around…took out a piece of American cheese and unwrapped it…,want some…,he just kept lookin’ out the window…

Did she make you happy…did she please you…sometimes I think what could I do to make you as happy as she did…I do…I think ’bout that sorta thing…’specially on nights when you don’t touch me…when I can’t get a kiss from you…

I’m not sure why you came back to me…,the wife pulled a Newport from her pack on the counter…lit it and breathed out…,you know why you came back to me…huh….,the husband turned and looked at her…,’cause you got scared…that’s why…frightened of somethin’ new…scared you couldn’t make it without me…you rely on me…I’m your crutch…always have been…,he turned away from the window…looked at her and said nothin’…the whole time he said nothin’…then he turned back to lookin’ at that Chevy…

You wanna leave…leave…can’t make you stay anymore…I’m tired of tryin’…you got second thoughts…I got second thoughts…,she put out her cigarette in the ice and little bit of Coke left in her glass…,I’m goin’ to bed…you wear me out…,she turned and walked down the hallway…he just kept lookin’ at that old Chevy…

she used to wake up in the middle of the night…screamin’ into her pillow…cryin’ and carryin’ on like a woman possesed…haunted…she’d flop ’round on the bed…have convulsions…yellin’ out the whole time that somebody had taken her love away…came in and stole him in the middle of the night…took him away in chains and handcuffs…she’d cry and yell till the mornin’ sun came out…dogs barkin’ at the backdoor…mornin’ paper bein’ thrown up on the front porch…that’s how her days started…

she’d walk into the bathroom and throw cold water on her face…brown eyes still stingin’…puffy cheeks with dark circles on ’em…she looked like someone had beaten her up…someone had…someone had…

a long time ago she fell in love with him…tall boy who played high school football…strong…he was a fierce competitor…real jealous kind too…got angry at the least little things…didn’t take much…one word from anybody would set him off…she learned this from the beginnin’…don’t make him mad…whatever you do don’t make him mad…

and as time grew on he got angrier and angrier…he’d be like a wild man when he got home from workin’ at the factory all day…at first he’d want to make love…then that would turn violent…kept tellin’ her to use make-up to cover up the bruises…he didn’t like lookin’ at the bruises…

well…one night he didn’t make it home…stopped at the bar to have a few and that was the last anyone had seen of him…some say he took off ’cause the cops were onto him beatin’ his woman…said she’d told ’em…nothin’ could be further from the truth…then there were those that said he had another woman he’d left her for…some kind of foriegn bride from Indonesia…Vietnam…Mexico…Russia…someplace…said he emptied the bank account and took off to meet her down state in the city…that was a lie too…

there was no tellin’ where he went…all she knew was he’d left her…left her at night screamin’ into a pillow…the love of her life was gone…so she said…that’s all she knew of love…that’s all she knew…

he looked at the dipstick…a quart low…he was always a quart low…seemed like the old truck was burnin’ oil…every time he stopped to fill the tank he’d check it…put washer fluid in her too…cleaned the windsheild…filled the tires with air…his dad taught him how to do all this…nowadays they got tires you can’t put air into…what a strange world it had become he thought…next thing cars’ll fly down the street…have wings that spread on ’em…look like some kind of spaceship…he shook his head as he took one more look at the dipstick…cleanin’ it with a cloth…yessir these were strange times indeed…

the pickup was pretty beat up…rust had started formin’ on the bottom of the bed..paint was chippin’ away on the doors…passanger side mirror had a crack in it…one night a jealous boyfriend took a swing at it with a baseball bat…drove off fast as he could…peeled out leavin’ a cloud of dust behind…could see outlines of their bodies in the rearview mirror…men in jeans and cowboy hats…a neon Budweiser sign blinked in the distance…he kept drivin’…

and he figured that man had a right to take a swing at his truck…guess technically they were still married when he messed ’round with her…the short blonde said they were seperated…not divorced yet…but it was just a matter of time…he remembered when he was goin’ through his divorce…used to say the same thing…we’re seperated…in his mind he was never really married anyway…he didn’t really love her…never really loved no-one…thought he had…but he never did…just ran from one woman to the next…one town to another…never slowed down…

at night he’d sleep in the back of the truck witha sleepin’ bag stretched out and an old pillow he’d had since his younger days…it was good and broken in…he’d look up at the night sky and wonder where he was gonna head to next…Nebraska…Oklahoma…head further out West to Montana or maybe Utah…could end up in Las Vegas…spendin’ what was left from the last job…just like towns and women he’d go through jobs like a shot gunned beer on a Saturday night…nothin’ stuck to this guy…nothin’..

so…he’d lay there and wonder what his next move would be and then fall into a dream like state there at the rest area under blue lights shinin’ down…dreamt of bein’ a movie star…like Steve McQueen or Lee Marvin…hangin’ out in Hollywood with other movie stars…parties every night…women approachin’ him for a change…for a change…dreamed of the good life only to wake up in the mornin’ early sun with diesels comin’ in off the ramps…

he looked at the dipstick…a quart low…he was always a quart low…