For David
This piece gets me. It is the ice at the bottom of the whiskey sour, what remains after everything else I've written on Prose.
It is the first entry, the first piece I ever wrote on here.
The below is actually the edited version, which I submitted to another challenge many months ago. This is its third time seeing the sun.
On a hot, lonely day in April three years ago, this is what I had to give.
I hope it glows in your eyes. It glows in mine.
xx
David has round eyes. And right now, they are full of sadness and deep concern.
“This makes me realize,” he says, “that it’s in the cards.”
David is legitimately crying. Tears are seeping into the top of his buttoned up collared shirt. By day, he works at the largest insurance firm in the greater Boston area. A job he loves. But he has admitted that when he leaves his office, he blasts jazz in his car to prevent panic attacks and crying jags.
I stare at the floor. It’s like watching a stranger cry on the bus. I wonder what happened.
David says, “It makes me realize that Abby, one of us, could not show up here one day. It would be over.”
The group leader finally turns to me. Abby, how does that make you feel?
I don’t know, what would it be like to feel anything right now?
I hate this question.
David, in some twisted way, is getting to the Heart of Group Therapy. Suicide is always lurking in the back of our mentally ill minds. For some reason, I always think of my insurance company here, checking the box of: Ok, Abby is suicidal, coverage is approved.
But is this more than money? I think back to the aftermath in the ER, after the Ativan. I apologized. To everyone. My body on the hospital bed. Taking someone’s place.
We don’t pump stomachs anymore. Too much damage. We wait it out.
No matter what?
My war is against my very being, my soul. As I watch David cry, I retreat to a familiar place.
My body is sitting and staring, not looking or fighting.
The Doll Factory
Elbows off the table
sit up straight
Good girls speak softly
Close your mouth
fork down between bites
Good girls don’t ask questions
Eat it all
nothing goes to waste
Good girls do as they are told
Silence
is golden
Good girl
Answer me with tears
when I scream at you
Good girl
You don’t need a door
body exploration is sin
Good girl
Finish your chores
or get the belt
Good girl
Be home when I say
grounded a week for each minute late
Bad Girl
You don’t need books
knowledge is dangerous
Bad Girl
You don’t need friends
they’ll poison your mind
Bad Girl
Suffocate
Stagnate
Rot in place
Starved of truth, light, air,
love
You.
Will.
Thrive.
Another living dead girl
molded to our specifications.
A Lump in My Throat
There's nothing more painful than watching someone you love suffer. What can you do
to make it better ? You stand there looking at your loved one in that hospital bed. You try to put up a brave front. After all, one needs to be careful about letting emotions of
sadness and frustration come out in front of the loved one. Your loved one has enough
on his or her mind. Hold back those tears. Excuse yourself momentarily if you must so you can wipe your eyes and pull yourself together.
You start to remember times when your loved one was up and alive and happy. It's good
to have those memories. They may be the very thing that holds you together if the outcome does not end well.
The dear one who lay there suffering is an important person in your life. More than anything you want that relationship again. You are not ready to see it fade away. So, you
stay there, and try to give a reassuring smile, a soft touch to brush a stray hair out of their eyes and a gentle kiss on the forehead. You say softly, " I love you" while you are silently
saying a prayer. When you leave the bedside and go out of the room the pain is allowed
to surface with full force. This is not going to be easy.
The Misconception
The bells above the the entryway jingled as Travis opened the door to Mortimer’s Antiques, Collectables, and Oddities. The warm musty smell that rushed out the door took him a little bit by surprise, but he quickly acclimated and stepped inside. The closing door caused the bells to sound off again behind him. Travis glanced around the dimly lit shop noticing shelves stacked with books, figurines, and an assorted collection of junk, that in his mind he guessed could pass for antiques on a good day. The woman behind the counter lifted her horn-rimmed glasses and squinted in his direction for a moment before turning back to her magazine with a slight grunt.
What the heck am I doing here? Travis wondered. He had passed this shop everyday for the last two years as he walked to and from his usual cafe for lunch, but he had never actually gone in in. Hell, he barely even noticed its existence until about a week ago. Today was different somehow. As he passed the shop like he usually did, he felt an urgency rise up in him. He couldn’t explain it if he was asked, but he felt like his destiny somehow depended on going inside.
As he walked deeper into the shop, he noticed how eerily quiet it was. Not only was there not a single other shopper in the store, but even the usual noises of the city seemed to have been drowned out. He passed several tables filled with odd knick knacks, things he couldn’t possibly see how anyone could find useful. The feeling inside told him that what he was looking for was farther on. He was drawn on into the store, past several more tables and then around a bend of shelves, until the lady at the desk was now obstructed from his view.
That’s when he saw it. On the table directly in front of Travis, was a pile of garbage, but on top was something right out the story books his nanny used to read him as a child. It was an old oil lamp. He thought briefly of Ali Baba and the forty thieves as well as the rest of the Arabian Nights tales he remembered. He smiled, “you have got to be kidding me.” He chuckled softly and wondered if the old lady in front had heard him talking to himself. Without much thought, he reached forward and picked it up, stared at it for a moment, then gave it a little rub. Of course, nothing happened. He really didn’t know what what he expected; he knew that stories were nothing but make-believe, created by people with nothing better to do with their time.
He was placing the lamp back on table and turning to leave when a strange old man in a black suit and bow-tie walked right up to him. “Nice little piece you were admiring there, don’t you think?” The man smiled, spreading wide his pencil thin mustache.
“Huh, oh yeah, kind of reminded me of when i was kid.” Travis tried to step forward and expected that the man would move aside to let him through, but the man held his place, as if he hadn’t even noticed that Travis had taken the step.
“Amazing how things have a way of doing that, right? I mean, it’s almost a kind of magic, in my opinion, a type of time travel if you will.”
“Look man,” Travis said trying not to sound annoyed, “I’m actually on my lunch break, and I haven’t even eaten yet, so if you will please excuse me.”
“Oh, by all means,” the suited man said almost apologetically, “it’s just that i was summoned and it would be very rude of me if I wasn’t to at least offer my services.” He stepped aside to let Travis pass through.
Travis looked at the strange man, and shook his head. “Look man, I’m not sure how I summoned you,” he held up his hands in air quotes as he said the word summoned, “but I didn’t mean to. You seem very eager to help, and it seems like you don’t get many visitors in this dump, so sorry, but i have to go.”
Travis took a couple of steps, but what the man said next stopped him in his tracks. “Perfectly right you are sir, but it was you who did rub the lamp, so …” the suited man left the sentence dangling in the air.
“Okay, man that’s a good one.” Travis smiled wide and let out a laugh. What a strange dude. “Are you trying to say that me rubbing that lamp summoned you? What, is there some kind buzzer that goes off in the back room when someone touches that thing?”
“Oh, no sir. Nothing so primitive.” The suited man pulled out a stool that Travis didn’t even realize was there, and took a seat. “What exactly is your experience with lamps, if you don’t mind me asking of course?”
As annoying as Travis had found the man a moment ago, he was now kind of enjoying playing along with him. The man was obviously a crazy old coot, and nobody would ever say that Travis didn’t like to placate the crazies so he would have a story to tell when he got back to the office.”Well sir, in all of the stories I ever heard that involved a lamp, there was usually a magical being called a genie that would come out and grant you three wishes. Am i to assume that is what you are saying you are?”
Well, I suppose if I have to be called something, Genie would be as right as any other. However, the whole three wish business is actually a bit of a misconception. I actually only have the power to grant you one wish, and that wish, unfortunately, must be of a specific sort.”
This guy is seriously off his rocker, Travis thought ecstatically. He was definitely going to have a story to tell the guys today. “So, what sort of wish are you allowed to grant?”
The suited man crossed one leg over the other and placed his folded hands onto his knee. “Well, you see, I’m only allowed to grant a wish if it solves a problem. Simple as that.”
“Simple as that?” Travis repeated as a question.
The old man smiled again, but this time there seemed to be something a little more sinister hiding underneath it. “Indeed.”
Travis thought for a moment. He had to get going, but there was a something inside him that wanted to see how far this charade would go, so he continued.
“Well, you see, Mr. Genie, Sir. I’m already a very wealthy man, as i’m sure you can tell by my suit. These shoes, pure italian leather, very expensive. I have a car, a mansion on the outskirts of town, and my choice of women just waiting to have one night out on the town with me, but the thing is, I still get lonely sometimes. I could use someone to be around at all times. Now, there is this sweet little number, a nurse, that eats most days at the same cafe I frequent. Pouty lips, big old tits, and it’s a shame she has to cover her nice long legs with the scrubs the hospital forces her to wear. It would be solving my loneliness problem, to always have her at my place, at my beck and call, and waiting on me hand and foot.” Travis shuddered with pleasure from the fantasy he had just concocted.
The old man closed his eyes and leaned his head forward, as if in deep contemplation of Travis’s request. After a moment, he lifted his head again and opened his eyes. Another smile spread across his face. “You know, I believe there is a problem that can be solved here.” You shall have as you have asked.”
“Don’t you mean my wish had been granted?” Travis smirked.
“Sure,” said the suited man.
“Alright man,” travis turned to leave and raised his hand in farewell, “It was good to meet you.” The suited man didn’t respond as Travis thought he might, so he turned to look at the man once more, but the man was no longer there. Weird, Travis thought. A moment later, Travis heard the bells ringing again as he walked out onto the sidewalk. A few moments after that, he was crossing the street, when all of a sudden everything went black.
************************************************************************************
Travis awoke, staring at the ceiling of his own bedroom. He tried to sit up but found he couldn’t move. He became aware of a methodic beeping sound. It sounded like a … he tried to turn his head but couldn’t move that either. He looked as far to the left as he could and he thought he saw the blur of a hospital machine just out of his line of sight. He shifted his eyes to the right and saw a massive arrangement of flowers. What the hell is going on, he tried to yell, but nothing came out.
“Oh my goodness, You are awake! Your doctor will be so happy.”
Travis didn’t recognize the voice, but then her face came into view, and he knew exactly who it was. It was the nurse he had told the strange suited man about. Seriously, what the hell is going on here, again, nothing came out.
"I just want to let you know Mr. Travis, that I am so sorry you were hit by that bus. They said it was a miracle you were alive, even if completely paralyzed. I would never wish that on anybody. But I must say, you have been the answer to my prayers. You see, I am a single mother of two, and even though my job at the hospital was a very good job, they were about to lay me off along with several other nurses. They had given us time to find a new job, and my time was almost up. So, when I was told that the your estate was hiring a full time, at home nurse for you, and at the salary they were offering, oh well, I applied right away. Again, I hate what happened to you but i am a big believer that everything happens for a reason. I guess you could say, sir, you are the God sent solution to my problem. Now you keep yourself comfortable, and don’t worry your head one little bit. I’m going to take the best care of you. I will be at your beck and call. I am going to wait on you hand and foot. Oh, I’m so happy you’re awake. I’m going to call the doctor right now.
Even though he could not move a muscle, Travis began laughing, and couldn’t stop.