dmseay

there was a black and white book cover of men riding bicycles ‘cross the desert…just a wide open space with dust kicking up…outlines of mountains in the background…couldn’t make out if they were snow capped or not…

and the riders were wearing cowboy hats…not helmets…or any funny little caps…cowboy hats…like they were riding horses ‘cross the vast wastelands…goin’ somewhere…off on some kinda journey…

I wondered where they were headin’ to…what town they were riding towards…how many miles they had to go…it looked so bleak yet so beautiful…maybe it was the black and white…

the desert is a lonely place…men go out there as a last hope…or… to end it…I remember as a kid riding through the desert on a bus heading West to California…remember seein’ hills of red clay stretch ‘cross New Mexico into Arizona…and cactus standin’ by themselves…and I wanted so badly to stop and take it all in…breathe the air…take my shoes off and feel the earth…

when I look at this book I think of that…that trip out to California on the bus…the loneliness of the desert…solitude of nothing…just nothing…

it’s two o’clock in the mornin’…you comin’ to bed…,his wife asked…,not like you to be up so late…whatcha starin’ at…,he continued looking out the front window…silence outside…not even a car drove by…,somethin’s got your attention…,just kept gazing at a streetlight…blue streetlight…

you think she’s comin’ back….think if you wish hard enough she’ll be on her way back home…peddlin’ up the driveway like she used to…think that…,the woman asked…,I used to think that…I did…and then one day I realized she was never comin’ back…she was gone…

he just kept quiet…had nothing to say…occasionally his stomach would growl…hadn’t eaten for a couple of days…preoccupied…,come on into the kitchen…I’ll fix ya’ somethin’…a grilled cheese…heat up some leftovers…,he didn’t budge…

it’s been three years now…and I know…she left long before that…runnin’ ’round town with that crazy crowd she used to go with…you warned her ’bout them…I know…you wonder where she’s at…so do I…can’t keep ’em home forever…,she touched his bare forearm…,come on now…let’s get you in bed…

he kept his eyes on that streetlight…she went back down the dark hallway by herself…said nothing else…let things be…

he drove on back roads out to the Ohio line…through small towns and hamlets…places with old churches made of wood…and front yards with old pickups parked in ’em…kids catchin’ a baseball with no gloves…trees as tall as the sky…

thought of songs from the past…old Hank Williams…some Buck Owens…hummed along with the radio to some song by Tammy Wynette…made his heart ache…daydreams of her…

she used to like these long drives in the country…in Spring when there was a freshness ’bout earth…she’d stick her head out the window and let her blonde hair shake in the breeze…kick off sandals…painted toes on a dashboard…stoppin’ for trains and kissin’ wildly as cars lined up behind ’em…they didn’t care…

and there was always evenin’ birds singin’ away when they stopped at a Dairy Queen to get chocolate dipped Dilly Bars…frogs croakin’…a yellow moon high in the sky…few stars connectin’ to make the big dipper…he’d point it out to her…

he drove on the back roads out to the Ohio line…that’s where he died…found him in his truck with the mornin’ Sun comin’ up…radio playin’ some gospel song ’bout washin’ your sins in the river…cleansin’ your soul…

he never got ’round to that…

I’d heard somewhere that you can never go home again…maybe the old man said it…could’ve been in a book I read back in high school…perhaps a bum I shared a bunk with at the homeless shelter…well somebody said it…somebody…

My old friends had left town…was told they all moved off years ago after the Harvester plant closed…some said a few of ’em went up to Detroit…then again I’d heard Chicago too…just up and left as soon as the company closed…left family behind…girlfriends cut out of the picture…goin out for a pack of smokes…only to never return…

The place was so desolate…old brick buildings barely hangin’ on…abandoned smoke stacks that used to stink up the air stood atop factories of yesterday…hadn’t belched toxins in years…all painted over with blue and red spray paint…symbols…pitchforks…

Went into a bar and had a couple…juke box played an old Bob Seger song…singin’ ’bout makin’ out with a girl in a Midwestern corn field…I remember nights like that…now all ’em girls were married…divorced…countin’ dimes to make ends meet…this ain’t what we had in mind…

The bus left the next mornin’…made damn sure I was on it…I’d heard somewhere that you can never go home again…

That fella was right…

what’s on your mind…what’re you thinkin’…you believe in somethin’ that’s not there…can’t touch it…smell it…hear it…

I hear it…whispers to me…

whispers to ya’…like some lover at night in bed with a cigarette burnin’…like Steve McQueen or somethin’…some quiet man…

he talks to me in my sleep…tells me all ’bout the other side…what’s waitin’ for me…things…

what kinda things…

ghosts from my past…people lined-up on the other side just waitin’ to see me ‘gain…folks I haven’t seen in ages…parents…cousins…old boyfriends…

waitin’ on ya’…

yeah… waitin’ on me…to be done with this life…get my new body…walk the streets of gold…my mansion on the hill…and have God tell me…good job girl…good job…

this voice tells ya’ that…

tells me that…

true story…

true…don’t make-up stuff like that…

think you’re hearin’ things…think you gone crazy girl…when’s the last time you went to church…

don’t need no church…

you’re relyin’ solely on a voice you hear…

yep…

what if it’s some audible illusion…just hearin’ things…

I’m not…this voice is pure…it’s honest…real…

you say so…

I do…been there since I was a kid…like a friend…givin’ me the inside scoop…

inside scoop huh…

yeah…the inside scoop…beyond this world…this earth’ll perish one day ya’ know…nothin’ left…either be in Heaven or Hell…

think so huh…

yep…that’s what he tells me…

I see…

your choice…

not no kinda predestination…my choice huh…

that’s what the voice tells me…

sure ’bout that…

yes…certain…

I see…

hope so…hope so…hate to leave you behind…

yeah…I hear ya’…

voice told me to tell you so…

did…

yeah…he did…

better listen to ya’ huh…

better…

o.k.

think I’m crazy…

little…

well I’m not…just doin’ what the voice tells me to do…

I see…

it’s all just a matter of followin’ directions…his directions…the voice…

the voice…

yes…the voice…

he walked from one end of town to the other…passed closed down storefronts…used car lots…fillin’ stations…

wanted to stop by the cemetery to pay his respects…parents long since gone…some high school buddies as well…wanted to stop…couldn’t bring himself to do it…

saw a line of people outside the Zesto ice cream shop…high school girls in short shorts…tough punks smokin’ cigarettes…trucks drivin’ by with mufflers missin’…

sat down by the river and watched the brown water swirl ’round…tree trunks bein’ carried down stream…remembered his dad takin’ him fishin’ there…couldn’t keep any of ’em…too small…always too small…

and the Sun sat quietly while semis pulled freight down the highway…Chevys and Fords ran right past him…sky turned purple and orange like sherbet…he licked his lips…one hand in his pocket and the other with a thumb extended…walkin’ backwards…hopin’…just hopin’ for a ride…

tonight I watched cars drive by…goin’ somewhere…maybe to a Wednesday night church service…movie theater…takin’ their kid to an emergency room with a broken arm…all these cars goin’ somewhere…

maybe they’re headin’ outta town…movin’ far far away from here…dad lost his job…a couple calls it quits…boy runnin’ away from home…Florida on a vacation…suitcases packed…

and they got their headlights on…some with just one…tail-lights busted out on a couple…drivin’ through stop signs…a muffler needs replaced…most of ’em just hum along…drivin’ down an empty street…porchlights come on…watchin’ cars…

wish I had a car…

He was hard to get a take-on…figure out…just somethin’ ’bout him wasn’t right…never was the whole time I knew him…he’d act like he was on the verge of sayin’ somethin’ real important and then he’d back down…hold his cards real close to his vest…scared to share what was really on his mind…some kinda phobia maybe…perhaps…

sat in that chair all day long drinkin’ Pepsi…one can after another…watchin’ television…Price Is Right…Live With Kelly…re-runs of old cop shows…had the volume turned-up real loud so he could hear it…voices comin’ through speakers…not matchin’-up with the way the lips were movin’…everything was like watchin’ an old Chinese kung fu movie…didn’t bother him in the least…think he liked it that way…

I’d visit him from time to to time…made sure he was stocked-up on Pepsi…Moon Pies…Mr. Goodbars…I swear he never moved from that chair…old beat-up blue chair…recliner…even slept in it at night…kick the leg rest out and just fall asleep…woke-up with the mornin’ Sun comin’ in behind him…lit up the whole room…train moanin’ in the background…

whole time I knew him he never said anything that would ruffle a feather…nothing of any consequence…just remained quiet mostly…hard to get a take-on…

the old man went out to the marsh…tall grasses waved in the wind…wild weeds were at his feet…sounds from birds…ducks landing in nearby ponds…could hear fish jump as well…

this was what the old man grew up with…everyday in Spring…Summer…and Autumn he’d be out there taking in the air…the greens…golds…clear blue skies…cloudy dramatic days as well with thunder rolling from far away…slowly moving towards him…slowly…

he wore rain boots…big yellow rain boots that swished and creaked with each big step he’d take…water coming up to his ankles…buckles fastened over his calves…with each step he got closer and closer to nature…he breathed in…the scent was pure…

this was a good place to die…he thought…a good place to end it…lay to rest in the marsh…join the geese and graze for the rest of his days…he thought this was a good plan…

and so he did…said a prayer…downed a bottle of prescription pain killers…sat and waited…just sat and waited to be taken in by the marsh….

listenin’ to birds chirp outside in the dark…some song they sang…back and forth to each other in a duet…kinda’ like Nancy Sinatra and Lee Hazlewood…just singin’ up a storm…he took time to hear ’em…really hear ’em…singin’ ’bout the comin’ of spring…dew on the grass was new…

and he thought ’bout flowers from the past…Geraniums with white buds on green leaves…Tulips in different colors up in Michigan…of course cherry blossoms in our nation’s capital…soon the trees along the highways would start burstin…life was happenin’…

he’d been on the road a long time…had seen a lot of things…golds and reds in the fall…strips of Kansas covered in snow…hail storms in Texas…kept runnin’ through it all…put gas in the truck and just kept drivin’…not goin’ particularly anywhere…but…he was on a mission…had been from the start…as soon as she laid the hammer down…declared him free to roam…free to move…that’s what he wanted…

wanted nights in truck stops flirtin’ with red headed waitresses and mornin’s sippin’ hot coffee…longed for a sleepin’ bag underneath a tree…pullin’ off to the side of the road and fishin’ for awhile when he wanted to…catch and release…catch and release…

marriage wasn’t his deal…never was…at the time he thought he was in love…but it was a lie…stood up there recitin’ words from a book he’d memorized…lookin’ into her pretty emerald eyes…knowin’ it wasn’t true…he was thinkin’ ’bout hittin’ the road as he slipped the ring on her finger…said I do…

and these things we live with…comin’ to an understandin’ that in order to live in some kinda peace you had to break a few hearts in the process…and even then you still might not find it…that serenity may never come…all you can do is try…

listenin to the birds chirp outside in the dark…some song they sang…back and forth to each other in a duet…kinda like Nacy Sinatra and Lee Hazlewood…