Friday, December 18, 2009

That Timeless Flow

 

Recent happenings close to home have bewildered me by day, terrified me by night. Yet, the shroud of fog begins to clear. I see outward, through the windows to my soul. A sense of tranquility replaces anxiety and confusion. A calmer state of mind allows me to sort through the simpler things. Scattered pieces of life's puzzle come together of their own accord; my intervention is neither required nor sought. 

What I have commonly referred to as the past, I now realize, is not a block of time and events disconnected from today, but life and living's continuance through to this present moment. A flowing stream, irresistible, from that so-called past of no discernible nor recorded beginning.

In that timeless flow from then to now, I see myself not as participant but on-shore observer. Rushing past me are images of people and buildings and books. And so much more, the more of my former childhood surroundings that have edged their way into my today's reality. It is a continuation of what I started out as and what I continue to be ...

Through nature, through nurture.

None of this is so unusual ...

Monday, December 7, 2009

That House on the Hill




I want the warmth of hearth and home. It is natural.

The house that draws my heart and mind away from all reasonable and natural desire, however, is desolate of any ember that might be kindled into a passionate flame. From yet so far a distance my imagination conjures up interior walls blackened by the oily soot of poorly trimmed kerosene lamps and a dank, poorly drafted fireplace whose tepid fires never quite took. The windows, likewise, are years and years gone unwashed. The now opaque panes distort through their dried-on grime views from within, visions from without. Paneled ceilings, somber and bleak, drip decades-worth of filthy webs downward toward stalagmite accumulations of swirling debris that reach upward, grasping tentatively, from warped and gaping oaken planks.

A grand and spiraling staircase takes center stage but startles me as its wide and toothless grin reflects the loss of many a baluster. It dares me any further approach. I draw back instinctively yet am morbidly fascinated by what is gently swaying in shadow ...

In the dark, at the top of the stairs....


My arrest of attention upon movement upstairs was abruptly diverted by the slamming shut of the huge entry door, that accomplished with a huge sucking sound and consequent evacuation of a heavy, fetid atmosphere. More unsettled by my own annoyance at the rude interruption of the unfolding of delicious terror than I was by actual fright, I spun round and stopped dead, face-to-face with a most unexpected sight ...


What could have been only a hasty delivery by an unseen courier - so much of my account seems fraught with the unknowable, the invisible - was my scarcely determined assessment of a large wooden container's sudden arrival, landed squarely at the entrance. I saw the downward, lazy swirl of dust coming to rest whence it came, having been excited and cast upward from the box's crash to the floor's thick cushion of dust. My approach toward the mysterious carton was, needless to say, accomplished with the utmost caution, and not a little trepidation as my thoughts cast backward to the tale of Pandora. However dim the light stealing through the long unwashed glass proved to be, I was, nevertheless, able to read the name of the addressee ... Elizabeth Vincent, my long-departed mother. Any vestige of fear clutching at my heart gave way to an insatiable curiosity to discover what ill lay in wait for me from within the steep, rectangular walls of pine. In my mother's stead, I deemed it entirely suitable to take possession of her property.

Locating a crowbar amongst a heap of tools and diverse household paraphernalia in the kitchen, I hastened back to the box and began unfastening the several nails holding the broad lid in place. After a number of unsuccessful attempts to slide the tapered, flat end of the bar between the tight seam between cover and box, I finally penetrated the seeming hermetic seal that, ironically, appeared to wish absolute denial of entry therein. The usual loud and protracted squawk of nails letting go their tenacious hold on wood did not disappoint for all its raucous clamor.

I worked my way around the box - some nine-foot-square was the lid - and at last had released each nail's fast hold to the box proper and set to pull off and lower the lid to the floor. Though I had figured the box to be pine for its light coloring and presence of characteristic knots, yet the top was exceedingly heavy. I managed it down by tugging at one corner, drawing it bit-by-bit toward me, then, likewise, the opposing end.

As I let out a sigh of relief over the unusual expenditure of time and effort, I let the lid drop, barely missing my feet.


Astonished, incredulous, aroused emotionally.

Words, even when taken to the superlative level by that four letter word, cannot adequately describe my trembling, choked-by-sobs self. The capacious container was resting place to a multitude of books that had been lovingly and carefully arranged in a deep cushion of excelsior. Though this bevy of books had the evident look of relative antiquity about them, there was not the characteristic odor of must and damp so prevalent among cemeteries of long-forgotten books.

I reached with the utmost reverence for the volume that had caught my attention and won my affection as a mere lad: Arundel, by Kenneth Roberts. Knowing nothing then about the historicity of the American colonies' various accounts (some, I have since learned, are disputed as to accuracy), I was taken by N.C. Wyeth's cover art of Indians and settlers canoeing the swelling waters of the Dead River ... the Arundel River ... the Kennebec ... la Riviere du Loup? I cannot recall, but the deep blue waters tipped by creamy white caps, the crisp, colorful off-shore autumn foliage, the looming, inscrutable blue hill, have long since inhabited my imagination.

Once out of my memory-stirred reverie, I began slowly turning pages, traveling digitally the maps depicting the moves of Colonel Benedict Arnold and his men, the Prologue by Steven Nason (the story's protagonist). On page ten I caught sight of Steven's loving tribute to his mother, Sarah. Why my careful though somewhat random perusal took in that particular account, I've no clue - there was simply too much to take in, given my excitement and agitated sense of deja-vu. Nevertheless, the words were fitting, as I could have said the same about Elizabeth Vincent, my mother.

Steven thanked God for his mother's education ...


She read Shakespeare and Plato; in addition, she spoke French, some of which she passed on to her son, and that of no little benefit to him. Apparently Sarah Nason, nee Butler, wished her son to ponder matters other than the merely mundane: fish, weather, sleep. Regarding the outlay of funds for educational purposes in their district of Arundel, the citizenry were wont to decry the prodigal expenditure of fifty pounds a year. I have reason to believe that Steven rose above the loutishness of his neighbors, though he did not consider himself a man well versed in letters.

In like manner, with regard to the above comments relative to parents' mentorship of their malleable offspring, my siblings and I were encased, as it were, with books of every description. Whether the virtual overflow of every sort of reading matter in our cluttered bungalow had been principally for Elizabeth's personal enjoyment and, collaterally, that of us children, I do not know for certain my mother's prime motivation. Surely, she encouraged and promoted our literary travels by leading her enthusiastic bookworms each week to the ancient Carnegie Library of stone and ivy. I cried when the city tore down the venerable edifice where adventure and learning had come together and borne me. The replacement contained the same books of paper, spines and hardback covers, but the former atmosphere (one of enlightened decay) among the stacks was missing. The sanitized air of the new building did not sit well with me. I was just a kid; I didn't know why.

Somehow this dirty old house, whose true character I'm still not certain of, is in concert, silently so, with Elizabeth Vincent's container of books.

I must dig in further.

Sunday, November 22, 2009

The Darkened Pane



My frequent walks these last few years about the neighborhood so familiar to me would ordinarily be construed a pleasant enough non-event. A little mild exercise - taken in small doses to keep the joints operating properly - and a keen eye peeled for the ever-changing face of nature have rendered the daily promenade a suitable diversion. Until recently.
 
I noticed nothing unusual at the beginning; I saunter over the same roads almost without variation, being an inveterate creature of habit. To tell the truth, I cannot pinpoint the exact day I began walking in this particular region of my town, other than the fact that, when I moved here some three years ago, I was too involved with matters more pressing than finding time to exercise. Nevertheless, once in a routine of regular jaunts throughout our peaceful suburb, I really sensed nothing out of the ordinary. No, not until recently.
 
I'm being stalked. Not in the usual sense. No crazed individual lurks in shadow. No person trails me surreptitiously. The sun is shining and birds are singing. Evil does not happen under such circumstances. Yet, an evil far more sinister than any miserable human could embody and visit upon the unwary soul has seeped into my neighborhood. Slowly. Insidiously. By otherworldly design.
 
The beauty of my natural surroundings - wherever that might happen to be - has never failed to tug at my heart and stir my imagination. For a certainty there are enchanted castles in the clouds, armies of fabulous creatures inhabiting the forest and crusty woodsmen rafting down a river swollen by heavy, unseasonal rain.  A secluded cabin properly placed in this setting would be the perfect touch. Back to the present: I am capable of distinguishing between reality and imagination, however active and fertile that imagination may be.
 
It's impossible to take in one's surroundings all at once. In addition to observing nature, I revel in the diverse architecture of my neighborhood. Even over a period of time, however, one still misses detail. Yes, there always has been a house on that lot, but I hadn't noticed the awnings over the two windows facing the street. Oh, this home on Robin Way has a brass kick plate affixed to the base of the front door. Was it always there? When did the Johnston's install metal railing on their deck? I didn't notice that the wooden corral railing had been removed ...
 
And there it was. Why hadn't I seen it before? I've shot a look at that hillside more times than I can count, but I don't remember ever seeing that house on the hill before. It gives all the appearance of rising up from the soil as though it were sown and nurtured there, tended as though it were part and parcel of the wood itself. This acknowledgement of a hillside dwelling should not, of itself, be any cause for undue concern. Of course not. Not till somewhat later, feeling a slight need for change and taking a different stretch of road, did I look out toward another band of foothills and feel a shudder fly up my spine.
 
There, unmistakable, was the house. I looked and looked again. It couldn't be. I've walked so long, so far. Nothing else about the forested ridge appeared remotely familiar. I was taken aback by the ghostly deadness of the land and forest surrounding the building. As for the defining architecture, the line of the house, the slant of the roof and ... the window.... What was clearly recognizable as a window was not by any means a typical pane of glass. Despite the other readily identifiable characteristics of the house, the window was, eerily so, the distinguishing feature.
 
Darkly sinister. And peering ...
 
Peering at me....
 
 

Saturday, November 14, 2009

This Is Not My Home

 

I awake in a place that clearly is not home.
 
Looking about in a blurry daze, the expected trappings of bed, chair and scuffed, dirty walls have somehow disappeared during my wretched slumber. All the familiar has slid away, swirling downward, but not swallowed, into an eerily black vortex above which my stiffened body floats unaffected by the devouring maelstrom. My immediate surroundings are an atmosphere of greenish hue that is part of what appears to be sky. Not a sky like I've ever seen before. Definitely a sky. Emerald and iridescent. Suspended amidst the shimmering splendor of undulating waves of a surreal firmament is a golden sphere, which I take to be a moon. The gentle but steady rays of illumination it sends forth warm me. This I find puzzling, as this celestial body is not a star.
 
I continue to have no control over my body, yet I am not uncomfortable nor do I sense any imminent danger. Something has changed regarding the direction put upon me. A force - like what I would imagine to be a tractor beam - draws me upward and away from the strangely silent but malevolent whirlpool below. Coming into focus at a distance seemingly close, but probably an infinite space away in light years, is an incredible edifice of glass, porcelain and adamantine steel - a veritable temple of a night's vision, dedicated to some constellation's god. Opalescent double doors of extraordinary height and hung upon hinges of gold begin to open in protracted slow motion. Blazing through the widening expanse of the closed-become-revealed is a brilliance like that of Earth's noonday sun. I gaze directly upon its supernal glory; in the manner of a dream, I am unharmed.
 
I startle as there emerges from doors now fully opened the likes of which nightmares are made ...

Friday, November 13, 2009

La Luna




Chilled to the bone, I couldn't care less.

Awakened by an otherworldly light flowing languidly through a single pane of glass, I arise from crumpled sheets and pad my way over to the frosty view that patiently awaits me. Full, round and gleaming is beauty supernal: my exquisite, my lovely Moon. I wish to touch her but am overwhelmed by giant sentinels whose barren arms are reaching longingly for her. For all their height, those statuesque trees are no more able to touch her silvery face than I. The eternal, desperate pining for what is enthroned on high.

I do truly adore La Luna. The commute, however, should prove impossible.

So Green Is My Valley




So green is my valley, become verdant after our first heavy autumn rain. I hadn't really noticed as passage through our expansive low plain is generally accomplished by automobile, bus or bicycle. Always in a hurry to get from here to there, I missed how the scorch of an eternal summer was transforming from regulation California brown into shimmering emerald. My blinders, however, have been removed. Deprived recently of a vehicle, and only rarely boarding the county bus, I decided to hoof my way over the county thoroughfare in order to see what I had been missing while keeping my eyes on the road and hands on the wheel.


Tuesday morning was crisp and cool but promised to warm quickly the pavement I trod and the air I gulped down. At mile 2.2 from home, the valley floor opened before me as clusters of oak vying for room and attention with cedar and pine acceded to the inexorable onslaught of an immense, sweeping table of flatness. Rising valiantly through the detritus of spent spring grasses was new, dewy pasture, carpeting untold acres of grazing land in green for at least another 7 months. In a bluish haze, embracing the valley but with distinct aloofness, appeared the upward sloping terrain, its turning gradually into our renowned foothills, now decked out in full autumn dress.

I had to stop and drink it all in. However polluted with noise the atmosphere became and remained from the infernal, internal combustion of early morning commuters' SUVs, pickup trucks, luxury sedans and sport coupes, I was totally oblivious. There was a ten second interval - it might have been fifteen - when I actually tuned into bird song. Otherwise, I was hooked on the view that I had somehow missed while driving the road day in, day out.

I don't envy my neighbors their fancy cars, just their fancy walking shoes.

Boy, are my dogs barkin'!

Damp. Dark. Somber.

 
Damp. Dark. Somber.
 
That is today's moody weather and I embrace it. Saying good-bye to an over-hot summer was a fait accompli. Crackling days and azure skies are suitable for some obscure reason - I just arrived on the universal scene a whisper ago - yet I would just as soon find my infinite pleasure in a state of repose at the hearth, books aplenty at the ready for cracking and wandering through. In search of adventure.
 
Perhaps in search of nothing.

Saturday, October 24, 2009

Beauty Rises From the Ashes



An artist peers into the rubble of death and decay and glimpses what one less inured to such travesty cannot. He sees form, even intricate structure of great complexity, and ultimately, a singular, transcending beauty. This believer in what is not easily read by most senses that, in the swirl of visual chaos and stench of life's loss, renewed life will assuredly come to birth. With or without the mere mortal's attendance upon life's reemergence from the grave, this process is an unending cycle: life, death, renewal. The destruction of the painter's canvas, the writer's essay, or the composer's manuscript is not an untenable blow to the creator's genius. Whether the ensuing conflagration is by literal fire or that of a public's outrage over a body of work ahead of its time, the perceptive artist knows that the phoenix will arise resplendent from the ashes. Her song shall be heard. The hidden masterwork moldering away in a cemetery of a cellar long forgotten will be rediscovered, recopied and premiered before a humbled and contrite audience. The artist, now freed from earthly care and turmoil, observes among a once disbelieving public what he never ceased believing:


Beauty shines forth where the eyes of others have yet to fall. Beauty sings forth what their ears have yet to hear.

Sunday, October 18, 2009

Isle of the Dead

 
Do not expect my imminent return, Dearest Isola.
 
Matters of a most urgent and grave nature have torn me ... from the home that I love ... from those dear humans whose cherished society I commenced missing within moments of my sighting of Charon.
 
The inevitable had arrived sooner than I might have ever imagined. Robust health, love of life, piety toward God ... these three provide no defense against destiny nor release from the dismal glide over Acheron. Yet, in a most unexpected and singular fashion, I sense that I have become a man to the utmost degree. The irrational fears that plagued my entire, pitiful life have released what I knew to be never anything less than an iron, viselike grip. It is true that I am scarcely at liberty to overturn fate's request to accompany her to my newest and perhaps not so dreaded domicile. I am, however, free to accept joyfully - as a man possessing the courage of his forebears - that I shall reside for eternity on the Isle.
 
Row, Charon, row. Lead me unto my awaited estate ...
 

I Climb the Walls

 

My dear wife Marie:
 
My surroundings are Nature at her most beautiful. How am I able to enjoy all this glory with you not here at my side? I wish you would change your mind and come join me before I climb the walls. Were I a younger and more able man I would jump the guards and clamber over the cheval-de-frise just to escape this hell hole. Did you and the girls put me here because of my numerous sins of commission, or were the ones of omission far graver? I have witnesses and tears to the effect that I endeavored to make good all my mistakes. I never meant to hurt you or Jason. I told you already how beautiful the grounds are. Well, sumptuous beauty - yours, Nature's, our daughters', Jason's - are all mischievous and cruel triggers. A rare moment when my heart and mind find their ease, a mere and momentary escape from my all burdens, and, with no warning - SLAM! My tranquility evaporates as in the blazing heat of an August scorcher. Any tiny hope of redemption is forever quashed. When, Marie, are you coming to see me? The inmates here are pleasant enough, but I have a sneaking suspicion it's the Thorazine.
 
I walked three miles today along the track that the administration has provided for my use. They say I'm a big shot so I get extra privileges. My walks - jogs, depending how my hips are working any given day - clear my mind and calm me. I saw four Monarchs at various points of my morning's path. At my approach each, in her turn, flitted off, no, not in fear, I'm certain, because you know my connection with all creatures great and small. It was a systematically choreographed but random ascent deliberately rehearsed in my honor ... for my escape. I know this is true because Herr Dressler told us at the congress that the flapping of the wings of a single butterfly can create a hurricane of inexorable destruction. So I recall. The forces of Nature - even the delicate agitation of a fragile Monarch's wings - are not to be mocked.
 
I must post this love letter to you, my darling Marie, before dark as le facteur will soon have finished his rounds.
 
All my love,
 
Henri
 
****************
 
Dear Sonja,
 
A quick note as I have to rush off to see Dad. Jason was so generous to allow Dad to stay indefinitely at his gorgeous estate. After all, they were best friends forever and there's nothing Jay wouldn't do for dear old Pops. He's becoming more and more disoriented, however. When Dad's at the garden table in his wheelchair, the aides tell me he taps, taps away at the table top for hours at a time, in the deepest, unbroken concentration. Should we dig out his old Olivetti portable?
 
I'm at a loss how we can ease Dad along since Mom died. Do you think he'll ever speak again?
 
Gotta run. I'll let you know how it goes. Oh, how I hate to see the most wonderful man in the world losing it!
 
Hugs,
 
Marte

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Sturm und Drang




Dearest Margot,

I think that you should be here at this very moment, in order to experience what musical and literary expressions I'm quaffing down. Do I want this in my life now is the question. I need an objective assessment of this bizarre occurrence.

It is too much for me to absorb, this wash of emotion from without that floods upon me both aurally and visually as storm and longing. To wit, it is Mozart's 25th in G-minor [to which I am listening] and a literary fantasy [which novel I had begun earlier in the day] of angels and demons that hold sway over a fictional community called Ashton. What a juxtaposing of Sturm und Drang in one man's tiny mind and heart! Is it probable that one might find the masterpiece of a 17-year-old lad grounded more in reality than an imaginative writer's fictionalized conjecture over the bizarre goings-on of the so-called spiritual realm? I am not without a well-inhabited fantasy world of my own - you, dear Margot, know that; however, the joining of grand musical drama and spiritual fantasy may not be so harmless toward my overall emotional well-being. I had taken well-thought-out steps to eradicate my soul of the damaging stain of haunted, unseen worlds. I should have put the book down when I realized where it was leading me.

Perhaps I am making too much over this little tempest brewing in my own spirit's teapot. After all, the music - simple in its melodic and harmonic introduction yet profoundly moving - is quite over. Lingering in my mind, however, are frightening images of winged demons chugging out rancid red breath, poisoning further the already fetid atmosphere of a town besieged by human weakness and error. Could Ashton be my own community, and I am afraid to discover the real truth behind what has been happening lately? A wake-up call? An inconsequential coincidence of sorts? A deadly contagion whose pall has been cast upon an unsuspecting town?

Well, how will I ever find out if I return the book to the library tomorrow, when it's due?

Love,

Henri


Since I don't have you, my beloved Sarah

 

The grass is growing and the rivers are flowing, but of what possible importance can that be since I do not have you, my beloved Sarah? I truly endeavor to fill my days with meaningful pursuits. The routine activities, of course, are chores and obligations that must be performed. But no one dare convince me that I should find purpose or meaning therein. 

Accordingly, do not declare, my soul, that taking up a worthy cause shall bury my churning thoughts and cause me to dedicate myself to the welfare of others (whose suffering is arguably greater than my own). Please, do not patronize me, my ever-niggling inner voice, with high-sounding but hollow and worthless platitudes. I have no difficulty sorting out the whys and wherefores in my mind, however troubled it might currently be.

It is the heart, ripped bleeding from my chest, that cannot fathom your having been torn away from me so prematurely. Whether sooner or whether later, never could there be a right time to say goodbye.

That is the bitter and ironic tragedy: I was heading my way over to you to say I was sorry and to ask - to plead - if couldn't we start anew. Certainly, by virtue of your kindly nature, you would not have hesitated to say, "Yes, my love, all is forgiven." If certain of nothing else in this miserable life that I have begrudgingly claimed as my own, I could be absolutely sure of that, your seeing the best in me.

It is too late. I was wrong, not about your sweet and forgiving nature, but that you would gently reassure me all would be right again in this, our little world. Now it is I who speak, downward toward a silent, cold and grave you. Please accept my tears and these yellow roses ... I know how you always sighed with such ineffable joy every time I brought you your favorites.

I, your devoted Frederick, promise to return and place more of both upon this, your eternal bed, until such time as I should join you, my beloved ....

Adela and Adonis

 

Dear Adela,

I thought you so very much an English lady of refinement and poise that I am beside myself over this turn of events vis-a-vis your current infatuation. It is, without question, out of character for you to behave in a manner that flies in the face of convention and our British social mores. Your extravagant love for the Indian boy causes the mind to boggle. I and my entire family are incredulous that you - the rigid and pure Adela - should have been swept off your feet and into the maelstrom of a turgid affair of the heart.

How could we have known that the houseboy's ministrations to the family's physical needs would have taken such a turn? Into a cold, cold heart has arisen a heated passion; in the bosom of you, the renowned Ice Queen, has been created a premature thaw. Never had I hoped to see such a robust essence of springtime burst forth into the purview of me, your intended. Yet, hoping against hope for the warmth of romance to seize hold of you, I remained steadfast in my devotion toward our union.

While the proper and staid English gentleman that resides within says "No, this cannot be!", I daresay that my losing you to the beautiful man of dark skin, raven hair and milk-white teeth is mitigated by the simple truth that you are unquestionably out of your element. I will leave it to you and your headstrong ways to discern how you have commenced treading upon a path that shall certainly lead to the sure disappointment of a broken heart.

Adela, I beg you ... before your heart consents further to this madness, please peer more closely into your looking glass, imagining Adonis there by your side. Consider closely my words before it is too late ...

A heartbroken but wiser former fiance,

Nigel

The Jubilant Child of the Stars

 

It is time to say good-bye to all that, on this jewel of the earth, has been my lifetime's joy and raison d'etre.

I look upward toward the true home promised me long ago in a dream of genuine and incontrovertible substance: a nighttime's fleeting, subconscious fancy does truly have wings. The need for all physical instrumentality has vanished as quickly as the worry that once attended my every concern over the petty doings of an anxious terrestrial existence. To become one with the cosmos is no vain desire but a fully realizable expectation that, in my heart of hearts, is no less assured than the reality of the Celestial Entities themselves.

Communion with the ethereal elements, begun early on in this poor beggar's life, was scarcely more startling than the visitation to Bernadette at Fatima nor the silent but meaningful dialogue between Francis and his charges of the wood. Music from the Spheres provides all directives that the expectant initiate requires to commence his journey into the sublime worlds beyond.

Taking my leave of the life that I have loved but must now depart, the lowly but jubilant child of the stars bids all adieu ...

Le Petit Prince

Saturday, August 8, 2009

Dear Alphonse:



You must realize that those who tear at you cannot reach and destroy the inner beauty that illuminates your soul. It is so evident to those who are able to see beyond their noses and biases that you are unique in all the world. So what if you are different from the rest of your fellow men in outward appearance? A cruel twist of fate has, as ever, without explanation, without partiality, bestowed upon you an aspect of uncommon singularity. Surely those second looks of utter disbelief by passersby must afflict you terribly. However, my cherished friend since youth, have I not stood by you, continuously infusing into your tired mind that a distorted and wracked frame is in no fashion the complete measure of a man?

Surely you realize how all Paris adores you for the compassionate, generous man that you are. Notwithstanding those few miscreants who make an excessive display of incredulity over your special gifts. What else would you have me to call them? You have transcended the mediocrity of pedestrian society by elevating yourself to the level of benefactor to the poor in spirit through your truest of humility and service to mankind.

Do not allow yourself to slip into self pity over a thing so trivial as an arresting physiognomy that you, on the whole, have not permitted to stand in the way of your beneficent acts. You are a child of the Universe and will, in perpetuity, grace all animate creation by the ardor of your expansive, nurturing goodness.

You, dear Alphonse, are beautiful.

With deepest respect and unfailing love, I remain your devoted friend,

Henri

Monday, July 13, 2009

Hero is Now


It has begun.
 
Ascent toward the imponderable and once unattainable plane of the glorious supernal has been granted Everyman. The child of the mind is awarded freedom from confining, earth-binding care as well as censure from those who know better but really nothing at all. If ever there were shackles upon all elements of mind, soul and corporeal essence, they surely have fallen to his feet, now shod as those of Hermes.
 
The face of Cosmos is inscrutable, in fact nonexistent, to one never fated to become a holy initiate. He hides His face and all beauteous mysteries from those dull of heart and rancorous of spirit. This unworthy swaggers high and wide the breadth of life's highways, yet he sees and hears nothing. Enamored of self and resolutely confident of some perceived immortality, Obtus deigns to accept the infinite sway of Nemesis.
 
His time shall come.
 
That of Hero is now ....
 

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Homeward Bound

 
Having once again (but certainly not for all time) pulled himself out and beyond the anxious care of making a living, Reggie settled into a more tranquil existence of puttering about the old homestead. His unhurried schedule now permitted ample time for reading, a soupcon of trying his hand at baking and a generous portion of carefree hours spent his mind in neutral while strolling the grounds in search of an epiphany hiding amidst the trees and shrubs. By no means having landed a sinecure to prosper him up into perpetuity, the middle-aged man nonetheless chose to lie low and avoid the extravagant life-style that demanded punching a clock daily. It would seem, therefore, that Reggie's conscious withdrawal from pursuits outside the security of hearth and home should afford him some solace, if not the immediacy of a newfound purpose in life.
 
Perhaps it was the only recently escaped rush of life and commitment to the needs of others less able that kept the weary social worker's spirits buoyant though, admittedly, ready to sink at a moment's notice. "I love what I do, but TGIF!" a harried but normally outgoing and uncomplaining Reggie frequently said to himself (and infrequently within earshot of his fellow workers). They admired their workmate's industry, though they were not quite so keen on displaying a comparably strong work ethic. His peers, under the same pressure as Reggie, could relate to his good-humored griping. Troubling to Reggie's conscience was his wishing the weekend were longer or the work week shorter, however logically that conundrum should unravel and show an obvious, satisfying solution. He couldn't just walk away permanently from career and service to the needy ...
 
Or could he?
 
Whether blessing or bane, being needed by others is reality. Reggie was impressed early on (by parents zealous for charity toward all) with the necessity of actively seeking the welfare of those less fortunate souls inhabiting the wrong side of the tracks. His family, too, were denizens of that very neighborhood. The young boy was not aware that his parents were poor, however. After all, an industrious father did put a slightly leaky roof over his head and a tireless mother did feed him three nearly squares a day. It never failed that another person - or entire family with multiple mouths to feed - was downer-and-outer than they. It was simply unthinkable not to provide a bag of groceries or a couple bucks to put 8 gallons of the regular into the gas tank of some old Nash belonging to a cashless neighbor. That compassionate ethic likely accounted for this married team's ability to sleep well most nights. Reggie, on the other hand, was torn over whether or not he should take a leave of absence from the career he was groomed for. Unlike his now deceased parents, whose slumber was perpetual, the exhausted social worker's mental wrestling match of self-sacrifice versus self-indulgence permitted him little sleep.
 
The music playing over the radio, whose tinge of melancholia was staining deeply Reggie's already languishing spirit, served, nevertheless, to solidify his resolve to make a choice. The tune, though meandering somewhat through a melodically minor soundscape, moved inexorably toward a sunny resolution of harmonic consonance. Harmony - in one's music, one's life.
 
Wanting the best of both worlds but living in two distinctly different neighborhoods, as it were, is a near impossibility. The logistics of keeping a hand in the work that nourished one's ever-hungry inner self - one's core - and struggling to maintain some guilt-free personal time simply had to be worked out. Something's going to give. That much is certain.
 
Will Reggie take realistic steps toward a more balanced lifestyle and avoid a total meltdown?
 
 

Sunday, May 3, 2009

Fantasy Upon a Sea of Lavender


ROBERTO OF THE SEA
 
The sea brought Roberto to us, though he was as good as dead. A limp and lifeless child he was when deposited at our back door by a sea that had raged the evening before. On his behalf, most certainly, but more peculiarly in the interest of my miserable, lonesome self, has the roiling Atlantic shown an uncharacteristic magnanimity. Mercy. Charity.
 
I have never known a man yet I have become a mother, that without the attendant discomforts that ultimately culminate in the travail of birth. Roberto, once awake, latched onto me as though I were his true mother and was loath to leave my side. At first. By degrees, he weaned himself away from a comforting, protective embrace. The draw was not so much from without, that of a young man's being lured to high adventure - surely it had been adventure sufficient for a lifetime to be cast unwittingly into the drink - but the natural curiosity of a guileless young man who simply needed to explore his new world.
 
Roberto's nascent world - one of miraculous rebirth and subsequent discovery - was in a parallel course with the old and comfortable world inhabited by two lonely but amiable spinsters ...
 
Whose life has been irrevocably upended....
 
I live with my sister, Magda, in a stone cottage by the sea. That said, I am, nevertheless, alone. Alone in my thoughts and taunted mercilessly by unspoken passions. How can I express what has lain dormant within my bosom since youth's first natural, but unsettling, bloom? This is not to say that I am a morose and brooding old hen.
 
No, I am a fairly companionable woman when I permit myself to come out of my shell and enjoy the coral bells swaying briskly in the salt breeze and the motionless gull suspended in flight (whose only erratic movement is that produced by the buffeting offshore wind).
 
I envy that winged one his freedom, his clear, unchallenged view and his uncluttered mind. Since the Sea has sent her gift, Roberto, my mind has been cluttered with thoughts long abandoned. Accordingly, I am much too old to have my heart beat a tattoo and come bursting forth from my chest.
 
Magda Thurston-Page had her feet planted firmly upon the ground and her nose to the grindstone. That should prove a rather remarkable sight if one were compelled to take the old cliches literally. Magda - a true English lady though, queerly enough, named after an old Hungarian mistress of her father - remained, minus the colorful but overworked metaphors, a sensible and hardworking woman. Whereas her somewhat more ethereal sister, Lucille, could readily be found tracing patterns in the sky whilst perched languidly upon a slow-moving cloud. In a manner of speaking, naturally.
 
When Roberto became their unwitting guest (after all, the sea had spat him out upon the strand adjacent the base of the escarpment terminating the cottage property) both Magda and Lucille sought to make him comfortable, each in her own way. Ever the practical and no-nonsense facilitator, Magda prepared hearty meals to build up the emaciated lad, whereas Lucille saw the absolute necessity of placing a small vase of wildflowers on his tray. Each in her own way. After all, what is the benefit of a filled belly when the soul is wasting away?
 
Dr. Warner's initial disposition toward the water-logged Roberto was kindly, borne of his professional oath, firstly, and basic humanity, secondly. Any bruised and battered soul landed in a heap at your sandy back doorstep deserves and receives immediate first aid, no questions asked. Particularly so when his unconscious self is presently ill-disposed to pass the time in idle chat. As the gangly sea whelp gradually recovered his health, the doctor continued his ministrations on Roberto's behalf, but with less frequency. Magda and Lucille, his hostesses, were all too willing to provide his every need in the way of good Christian hospitality.
 
During his convalescence, Roberto received a number of visitors, some merely curious, others genuinely interested in making the stranger feel at home. A young lady by the name of Miranda, whose resident family went many generations back, came calling of a morning, a clutch of wildflowers in hand. An otherwise disconsolate Roberto (he was beginning to feel both restless and homesick) looked up at the fetching lass as she, announced by Lucille, walked toward him, bathed in the cheery sunlight giving into the open room. If ever gloom were dispelled in a flash, well then, this was that particular moment in time. Roberto sat bolt upright in his bed and, surely without any apparent conscious thought, hastily commenced doing his toilet.
 
The innocent though potentially impassioned message sparking from Miranda's eyes to those of Roberto did not go unnoticed. Dr. Warner's boat of dreams was about to be rocked. He had no remedy in his doctor's bag for an impending shipwreck of the heart.
 

ADAM'S SON
 
"The Lord has given us back our Clem, Adam ... He's given us back our Clem," rattled the glassy-eyed mother, bereaved of both her son and her reason. Laura Withers was fairly rocking back and forth in her ladder-back chair as she stared out the bay window toward an Atlantic alternately beneficent and cruel. Though Adam Withers stood at his deluded mate's side, his large, work-gnarled hand on her bony shoulder, steadying her, he could not look upon the ravenous sea that had taken their son, Clement Charles Withers.
 
A given name could not have been more wrongly assigned a newborn. Clem was anything but mild or merciful, a difficult child and even more difficult young man. No thought for his good-hearted, simple parents, he ran off to sea at age sixteen without a word or written note of farewell. Two years later, frantic worry and grief having metamorphosed into numb resignation, the Withers read in The Shipping News that the schooner Clem had boarded and signed onto had foundered in the China Sea during a typhoon. No survivors.
 
Upon learning but clearly misinterpreting the miracle of Roberto's reinstatement into life from a sea unwilling to claim him for her own, Laura rallied momentarily from her comatose state, though it's not certain she actually claimed that Roberto was her revivified Clement. Adam knew Roberto was Roberto, not his son Clem. But his grief, unspoken and subdued, nonetheless keened inwardly as he perceived, in visiting one day with the recovered Roberto, that this was truly the son he had never had.
 

ROBERTO, THE MUSICIAN, RECOVERED
 
A thousand pairs of eyes were fixed intently upon Roberto and as many ears attuned to what lush tones were presently to surge forth from his violin. There was talk, fervid speculation and scarcely bridled anticipation over what would surely become the musical sensation of the decade.
 
The timid and unassuming young man, who had long since captured the hearts of his peers as well as those uninitiated into the music of the spheres, was ready. His nervousness, certainly typical for many a young musician making his or her debut, was not evident to the expectant patrons in the now darkened music hall.
 
The opening orchestral accompaniment provided a brief, measured entrance into the elegant fantasy for the stringed instrument whose soulful voice sings with a true heart of human emotion. It goes without saying that, in less skilled hands, the resultant caterwauling of bow to strings would have a horrified audience running for the door and demanding a refund. Surely, that rarely happens. Bad musicians - or simply the mediocre - do not make their entrance into the music world with The Fontanne Theatre their stage.
 
Roberto, on cue, began his dialogue with the orchestra, employing his cherished violin as spokesman. The audience, falling upon the instrument's every word, was entranced into breathless silence. The young wizard, melding his heart and soul with the plaintive, the throbbing, the climactic crescendi of the four strings over which he possessed total but loving dominion, had his emotionally enthralled and incapacitated listeners silently begging for more exquisite pain.
 
Under the conductor's baton, the final cadence of Fantasy would momentarily declare rest and harmonic resolution for the elegant piece to which Roberto and his violin gave supernal voice. Not rest - and no peace - for all in the vast audience, however. Dr. Warner, along with numerous neighbourhood guests invited to the Thurston-Page home for the evening, listened to the programme broadcast over the wireless from The Fontanne Theatre.
 
As Roberto raced on nimbly, masterfully in E-flat minor toward the closing chord progression, he up bowed strongly upon a plangent and suspended high D-flat set in heart-rending dissonance against the surging F dominant seventh inflection of the complete string section. At rest, tutti, in B-flat minor.
 
That soaring, protracted D-flat brought the jubilant audience en masse to its knees but procured the doctor a broken heart. The stunned look on his face was the only palpable indicator that his heart had stopped beating. Only Dr. Warner could feel that physical constriction upon his literal heart during the plaintive cry of suspended dissonance; the aforementioned stunned look upon his stricken, immobilized visage went largely unobserved.
 
Largely, yes, but neither completely unobserved nor totally unacknowledged. An individual's simple gesture or his few words casually tossed off are generally quickly forgotten. Perhaps, yet nonetheless recorded in the minds of all listeners present for possible future recall. Guilt written all over a malefactor's face when a seeming random but fateful moment of truth comes knocking is what some call the dead giveaway that all but the most out-of-touch observe.
 
One person, herself reacting with high but untainted emotion to the impassioned closing minute of Fantasy, saw Dr. Warner's glazed-over eyes and slackened jaw. The high-strung young woman saw and she knew. She figured in, albeit innocently, with the "good" doctor's breach of conduct.
 
Adam Withers, likewise, had a look upon his face whilst Roberto played away upon his own four strings and the so many more of his audience's collective heart. Rather than a facial expression displaying a stricken conscience, however, his eyes and countenance spoke a wonder and spiritual elevation most infrequent in an existence so tied into the mundane. If one could only know the personal benefit derived from peering into the windows of such a humble man's soul, one would cast off as refuse all the tinsel of the world to learn at the feet of this unlikely master.
 
When Roberto first met and talked with the middle-aged farmer, he sensed a comforting and nurturing presence. On the other hand, there are many insensitive individuals about who are scarcely in tune with unadorned worth. In their haste to use and abuse, they would scurry on past the likes of Adam and his shapeless hulk.
 
The older man, though cruelly bereaved of a son, became a father again. No words were spoken as to an unofficial adoption, but Roberto - very much in need of a fatherly presence at this crossroads of his young life - saw into Adam's soul.
 
This coupling of souls were links forged of an uncommon mettle.
 
Roberto's recent, uncharacteristic silence was not unlike that of the grave, into which he had a vague sense of falling in slow but unstoppable motion. He was not unable to speak in a literal sense, but his cheerful willingness to pour out his heart unabashedly was, strangely and without apparent notice, severely curtailed. Most particularly was the spontaneity of his musical expression abruptly arrested. Roberto was too confused, perhaps even to the point of utter distraction, to calculate in some logical, calm fashion what was chewing away at his insides.
 
Surely, after his heroic performance at The Fontanne Theatre, he could justifiably glide over mundane care and daily preoccupation, held by the hand of Muse, for a little while longer. Realistically, however, there proceeds an inevitable crash after the gifted performer has ascended artistic heights through the total divestment of self onstage. An audience, gasping in disbelief at what their incredulous ears are telling their uncomprehending minds, can become inadvertent bane to the musician, who is taken for a god. Roberto knew that he had to get away - if only briefly - from those who lusted after both his music and his romantic attentions.
 
Art and destiny have another captive soul in their thrall ...
 
 
 

 

Thursday, April 23, 2009

The Shepherd Boy

 
What manner of adversary art thou, Oh Cupid, mine newest enemy and cleaver of a heart now rent in two by love's dart unwanted? Fain wouldst I seek thy quiver spoilt and emptied of all implements of love's war, if but to liberate this shepherd boy from a wasting sickness wrought 'pon an unsuspecting and pure spirit. Content hath I been to drinketh in Nature's beauty and surfeit mine pining soul with Her sufficient bounties. She and she alone hath been, to present, sufficient food for all mine youthful cravings and whate'er further necessity wouldst, some elusive day, 'come enjoined upon this pitiable naif. Now, because of thee, despised one, mine once simple eye hath become darkened. The Serpent hath coiled 'round, he holdeth tight fast and letteth flow his venom slow and insuperable till mine full allegiance be guaranteed. That dear and innocent tender of the fold abideth no more. Thy darts, Cupid, art they claddeth in lead or gold?
 
O cunning and ruthless one, I hath become weary of a desire heretofore unknown. I am sickened at mine very center. Flesh and resolve once resistant to sin's temptation art now troubled by inconvenient stirrings. They rumbleth deep within a frame of roiling and burning blood that seeketh assuagement.
 
Come closer, dear Cupid. I speaketh only in jest as I truly do love thee. Before this febrile brow breaketh its hold, however, couldst I very well clippeth thy wings if 'pon thy cursed neck I shouldst fall. Love's sweet suffering hath rendered an innocent child mad and unaccountable for his present state of amorous intoxication.
 
I prithee, letteth the Immortals rendereth righteous judgment on mine behalf shouldst this madness leadeth to Cupid's demise by mine hand ...

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Letters From the Subconscious


My dearest love, Cupid:
 
How I long to have you return to my side and smile your cherubic smile upon me. It has been too long that I have languished over love's dream unfulfilled. My prim and proper family suspect that there is a change in my spirit; they say that the brightening of my eyes and the upturn of the corners of my mouth are becoming all too frequent. They are perplexed that my former solemn, taciturn ways have blossomed most prodigiously into a riot of springtime colour and cheer. The protracted winter of my discontent has vaporized and can afflict no more.
 
Accordingly, my family's puritanical mores are so deeply and long entrenched that one's breaking free from such tyrannical bondage of body and soul seems a revolutionary act. Well, I say fie on the whole lot of them! You, sweet and delectable Eros, are no villain, no embodiment of mere carnal pleasure. You are a releaser, a liberator, a sweet saviour of this despairing maid whose shriveled spirit you have revivified by your glance, your touch, your kiss ...
 
I know you are true, that I am your only one. Please hasten into my presence and cherish my society as none other. The French window shall, as ever, remain open as upon wings of desire you alight once more upon my chamber floor.
 
An Eros by any other name is still a Rose ...
 
Your Spectre of the Rose
 
 
 
Ever dear and splendid Narcissus,
 
I once gazed with love upon your reflected image and yearn for that day when ne'er again shall we part company. When last you left my side, I was seized with an extraordinary compulsion to run after you and beg you stay and console me. I am not accustomed to such aloneness that has been enjoined upon me.
 
Since that forced separation, that damnable schism, I have reeled with uncertainty and self-doubt as to who truly I am. I fear that, deep down, I am little more than a shallow, empty nothing. Where shall I find a deepness of soul, a true and abiding reason for my existence if not with you, for you? There would appear no possibility of success were I to continue on in this fashion of incompleteness.
 
It was you, not I, who demanded liberation from the confines of our conjoined spirit and soul.  Why, pray, the blind necessity of searching out foreign waters to cast your eyes, my eyes, on an image too well and oft observed? Have you not considered restraint? A diversion centering on others? Perhaps a little less self-absorption?
 
I long for your return, knitted back in place where you belong, to terminate once and for always this useless dichotomy of body, soul, spirit. Granted, I acceded to your pleas for personal liberty, but can you truly say that you are the happier lad for seeking your reflection without my sage eye upon you?
 
Please reflect, not so much upon the physical aspect of youth's beauty, but that which runs deep and true. Eternal youth and ageless outward beauty are but a myth ... a paperwhite, though lovely, is but a passing springtime fancy.
 
It cannot be forced beyond....
 
Hermes has promised swift delivery of this missive to you, my better half ...
 
Love eternally,
 
Narcissus

Monday, March 2, 2009

The Letter


Scrubbing mindlessly away at the kettle's burnt-soup-encrusted bottom, Robin Metier was mentally focusing on his fingers otherwise gainfully employed, zooming in ascent and descent upon his Yahama keyboard. Arpeggios. Scales. Particularly in f-sharp minor, b-minor and c-sharp major. The big day - November 12 - was rapidly approaching, and that faster in Robin's mind than the clock's hands could reasonably wind forward.

The stocky teen was grateful that Aunt Mabel employed his mundane talents as official pot scrubber at her Pine Cone Cafe in the little mountain community of Gold Peak. Some needed cash and three squares a day. In a few more days Robin would be mounting the Peerless Stage, heading off to The City by the Bay to do his thing, so to speak, on the piano. He was happy with the Yamaha keyboard he had saved for and purchased with his earnings. The thought of playing on a concert grand at The Ortega Institute, however, was sufficient impetus to keep his spirits high as he plowed through stacks of dinner plates, cups, saucers and, of course, pots, pans and kettles. The hot water was music to his played-out digits.


NOVEMBER 12:

Robin and nine other aspiring pianists each await his/her turn at the concert grand. Such waiting is always an excruciatingly painful exercise, not, of course, in proper piano technique, but in controlling one's nerves. Not running to the nearest toilet and losing one's breakfast.

At Last! First audition and, afterward, a polite thank you, we (the faculty) will be in touch. Another rendition of the ubiquitous Moonlight Sonata and a comment of "well done, Miss Steiner." Nods of approval. Thank yous. Why Robin has ended up candidate number 10, the nervous young man has no idea. "Mr. Metier ... if you please...."

Robin reverently approaches the Bosendorfer Imperial Grand, sits upon the cushioned bench and adjusts the knobs. Just the correct height. Right foot placed firmly upon the damper pedal, left poised upon the sostenuto. Hands in readiness, set to descend upon the usual 88 as well as those 9 extra coils of thunder in the bass that Robin shall certainly hammer upon for Olivier's Essay in F-sharp Minor. Upon completing the fire and brimstone of the opening section, the daring but now quieter and contemplative musician begins to ply his way through the transparent, sparkling waters of the essay as shore appears on the musical horizon.

As Robin's hands lift from the final chord cluster and his foot from the damper pedal, the rounded sonorities continue to resonate darkly eerie through the hall. Then silence. If there had been meant a pin to drop at this moment, well....

The young man, trembling with expectation over any scrap of approval or disapproval, waits a few moments more ... silence. Deafening silence....

Unable to cope with both the exhaustion and apparent lack of recognition for his rather well turned out performance, an overwrought Robin eyes the nearest exit and runs off the stage.


Back at the hotel room whose seediness Robin had endured all too long, he packed up his scant clothing and his manuscripts, took one last look in the dirty mirror by the door, and sneered at his reflection, "Loser!"

At the desk, Robin paid up the balance due and turned in his key. After a polite but empty thank you to the clerk, the hollow shell turned on his heel and exited the decaying lobby. As he shuffled along, young Mr. Metier looked cheerlessly upon the dreary edifices holding onto dear life for whatever crazy reasons and wondered about his own. Passing him by were tired men and women off to necessary but despised jobs, cranky children making their way to reading, writing and 'rithmetic. And a briskly trotting courier .... A few moments more and Robin would be on board the bus for home. He knew that dear old Aunt Mabel would welcome him home regardless.

Three squares a day ...

The youthful, rosy-cheeked courier bustled into Newbury Arms and handed the clerk a letter from Dr. Arthur Sewell, The Ortega Institute. Having no forwarding address for Mr. Robin Metier, the indifferent clerk marked boldly upon the envelope face, RETURN TO SENDER.

Dear Mr. Metier,

I hope you will forgive the jury the stunned silence that met the conclusion of your bravura performance of Essay. You see, Professor Olivier is one of our composers in residence at The Ortega Institute and he returned unexpectedly from an overseas tour. He popped in minutes before you had commenced playing and was sitting at the rear of the concert hall. While you were performing, he sent word for me to see him immediately.

As we sat enthralled, Professor Olivier said over and over under his breath, "Yes, yes ... he's the one!" Puzzled over what was going on, the remaining judges came to the rear of the auditorium, saw who was sitting there with me, and simply remained to enjoy your exquisitely rendered music from a better vantage point both acoustically and visually. Upon your completion of Essay, we were simply too overwhelmed with emotion to respond. Scarcely professional, I admit, but I respectfully request that you endeavor to understand our lack of clear reasoning. You truly possess that indefinable but nonetheless much sought charisma of the keys. One has it or one hasn't.

May this letter find you as soon as possible! Please see instructions below as to our next meeting with you. Professor Olivier is most anxious to meet you as well as to discuss your promising future.

Sincerely,

Dr. Arthur Sewell


Saturday, February 28, 2009

Quarrel With a Cross Beau

 
A disquieted, quivering Paolo Pulzone was admiring from afar the lovely Anna Archer, who was standing stock still upon the hillock, the wind gently giving rise to the flowing blond tresses of the lass. It was all Paolo could do to bridle his conflicting emotions and not cast aspersions upon the guileless and fletching Anna.
 
She had had a quarrel with her beau, now cross, but wished not to prod the excitable Pulzone to rack and ruin by releasing further invective upon his head. The strings of his heart were already all atwang; the broad headed bowyer needed no further triggers setting him off-target. He had reached his nocking point and all his levers were soon to become unhinged.
 
"Verretto verretto non quadrello dardo," mused the spineless and cross beau, as he stropped on his stirrups and headed home.

Thursday, February 26, 2009

The Desert Reigns


I embark upon a mind's desert journey in order to survey a wilderness landscape far from the grasp of Winter's thrall upon my captive self. Only then may I perceive the sublime beauty and precious rarity of water. Otherwise, the deluge that, in reality, engulfs, drowns a community, leaves me ironically unappreciative of heaven's bounty.

The sky is a hot, blazing azure that permits no trace of cloud and moisture. Verboten, likewise, is all trace of verga. As night settles in and scorching becomes a more tolerable hot-enough, creatures of the night scurry forth and do what instinct says do. Eerily subdued cries of the jackal send chills up and down a spine long since unaccustomed to frissons in so jaded a host. My footfalls upon the cooling sands crunch down, creating eddies of swirling grains that demand entry into my boots. This is what I sense, yet there is no sound. None.

The temple I seek is just ahead. Several meters more and I shall touch its gleaming walls of glass, porcelain and adamantine steel. A mere few steps more. There it is ... through a moonlit, shimmering haze I glimpse faith's reward of rest and refreshment for a hope eternally held. Soon I shall enter its gates ...

A cold wind passes over me and startles me into wakefulness. I open my eyes to reality and ... home.

Day 39 of rain.

 

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

The Hot Bath

Melvin was a shower kind of guy his entire life. He was simply too preoccupied with other matters of importance to allow himself the luxury of a nice hot bath. Not that the idea didn't appeal, however. Given the dousing nature of the overhead spray, Mel usually was anxious to exit the pummeling jet of H2O, hastily dry off and settle back into his interrupted chain smoking of Lucky Strike cigarettes. After all, L.S.M.F.T. - Lucky Strike means fine tobacco! He knew the tobacco was toasted, which made his deep drags all the tastier.

Time passed and Melvin retired from the plant. He enjoyed his newfound freedom and spending more time with his beloved wife, Jean. He had always been close to his son and daughter who, now grown and with children of their own, lived nearby and frequented the old homestead, regaled with Mom's gourmet meals and Dad's corny jokes. As the saying goes, "a good time was had by all."

When the dust had settled, so to speak, Jean returned to her projects and the usual routine of running the household. Melvin, after a little of this, that and the other, liked to call it a day (even if the day was hardly over) and slip upstairs into the guest bath. There was not only a shower but also a big and comfortable bathtub ... really comfortable, where you can actually lie back and soak, NOT the fiberglass jobs with a straight back and so short that even a pygmy has to draw up his knees to wedge himself in. The bonus feature was that now Melvin could soak and smoke and luxuriate in silky bubbles. Every day.

The old gent enjoyed this simple luxury not only for the simple pleasure it afforded him, but it seemed that, increasingly, he needed the therapeutic benefits of the hot water. He was feeling some deep-seated soreness that he couldn't account for. He hadn't been working all that strenuously in the garden and he really did get plenty of sleep at night, not to mention a few winks here and there throughout the day. Oh well, I always feel better once I'm out, Melvin thought to himself while lighting up another Lucky Strike. Think I'll spend a little while longer ... too soon to pull the plug ...

At the local hospital, Melvin is on life support. His son and daughter are huddled in a corner with their teary mother, talking to Melvin's doctor. They have to decide, given the old man's terminal condition, what to do at this juncture.

Comatose, and quite unfluttered over what has been tearing his family apart for the last several days, Melvin is enjoying his toasted tobacco and his hot bath. Quite out of the blue and a shock to all those in the room, Melvin lets out softly but distinctly, "Too soon to pull the plug...."

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Earl Grey

For the time being Les seemed condemned to surround himself with loud people, forgetfulness and Earl Grey.

Under normal circumstances, Lester Brockle-Bank liked his quietude strong and full-flavored, like his tea; however, lately, his typical reclusive manner had ceded to an inordinate need for the society of local rustics rather dissimilar from him in temperament. In deep and searing pain over the loss of Lottie, this morose lonely heart found an unlikely solace in the boisterous tea houses of North Plimpton-by-the-Sea.

He was not alone there in drowning his sorrow, which he did with the intensity of Bergamot as well as with the help of many a willing, well-upholstered tea cozy.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

And a Child Shall Lead Them ...

From the moment Stan came into our lives twenty-three years ago, my parents and I have been unwittingly elevated to an unusual level of awareness; trifles that ordinarily go quite unnoticed came unexpectedly into sharp relief. A mental and spiritual acuity gradually began to develop within the three of us, and its focus was the new arrival. This child, as the song goes, came into the world in the usual way. Nevertheless, had the scenario that unfolded over the last two decades been staged within the sacred theatre of Biblical antiquity, this unusual child, like the infant Samuel, would have been dedicated unto the LORD.

Stan was always a happy baby, and to say that he was just another cute little boy, well … more of that later. I mentioned that our level of awareness became keener because of Stan. An especially memorable period was when elderly Aunt Rose came to stay with us for a spell after her husband, our Uncle Angelo, had died. His death was sudden and caused my family and Aunt Rose, in particular, much grief. Stan was about four or five at the time, I believe, and I - the typical, self-absorbed teenager - was in my early teens.

One day, like any other (well, almost), Aunt Rose was staring out the window, which was becoming part of her daily routine. The sadness in the air was especially palpable that afternoon; it was raining a melancholy and indifferent sort of drizzle. A lusty, wind-driven downpour would have been preferable under these distressing circumstances. The old darling’s gloom hung about us like a bad suit of clothes. The stillness was shattered, however, when she, totally out of the blue and without warning, burst into tears and sobbed with abandon. Mom ran into the living room to see what had happened and I stood there like a statue. What does a teenage guy know about comforting the bereaved? I knew some Scripture but hadn’t a clue how to wring any practical comfort from the Good Book.

Mom knelt down by Aunt Rose and talked soothingly to her, and, after a few moments, the old lady appeared to calm down. Mom must have felt satisfied that Aunt Rose was all right, so she headed back to the kitchen to brew my great aunt a pot of restoring tea. While my mother’s aunt was recovering and I was standing in stunned silence at this most awkward of moments, Stan walked into the room and went directly to Aunt Rose. I had the presence of mind to halt this intrusion of her privacy and made for my little brother’s arm. Before I could grab hold and jerk him away, he abruptly turned his head toward me and gave me a look that could kill at twenty paces. I dropped back, utterly speechless. He turned back toward his elderly, great aunt whose attention he had already captured. Her face was the usual blank, only more so, if you get my drift.

My mother returned to the living room, smiling gently in our general direction, carrying a tray crowned with a silver tea service and laden with the home-baked goodies she is locally famous for. As she set down the tray on the coffee table, Stan tugged at the ottoman adjacent to the threadbare, old wingback that Aunt Rose had made her permanent home. Once it was in place before her, the little fellow perched upon it and reached out for her wizened left hand with his right. Young and fresh clasping the ancient and scarcely living. Do you remember the old saying, “Out of the mouths of babes”? Stan subsequently gave it a new meaning, a meaning that changed our lives.

After a few moments looking out the picture window, Stan gazed upward toward Aunt Rose, and, with a look of slight bemusement, she returned a gaze of her own. Mom and I were standing at a "respectful" distance to the side and saw the little guy’s lips begin to move. Given our position relative to this seated odd couple, who were occupying each other’s attention, we couldn’t read Stan’s lips. The reason I mention that is because he was talking to his great aunt so softly that neither my mother nor I had a clue what deal was being clinched. With her hand still firmly in his own, Stan rose and shot a look out the window. It had stopped raining, much to my surprise. I have no idea why I should be surprised or not surprised at such a non-event. Perhaps it was because the clouds were breaking up and the sun was warming up the last shreds of so forlorn a day. My moment of reverie was broken when I realized that the pair was at the front door, yet hand-in-hand. With his left hand Stan grabbed hold of the old brass knob, twisted it and pulled a slightly confused but willing captive through the portal. Aunt Rose was not the only person in this diminutive boy’s thrall.

Aunt Rose and Stan were outside for some time walking about the garden, looking at the saturated yet glistening shrubs that were catching the last rays of a Sol rather belated in arriving. Better late than never. Geese were flying high above the treetops, honking jubilantly at their crepuscular escape through the darkening skies. I seriously believe they were shouting down a riotous salute to Stan, who was waving enthusiastically at them with his free hand. Aunt Rose was looking upward and shielding her eyes against the fading sunlight with her right hand. Mom and I, forgetting totally about time and all practical concerns, were still at the window when that odd couple traipsed through the front door. I’ll never forget what I saw next.

The old lady was somehow transformed: she was actually smiling and had a somewhat girlish gaiety about her. She was chatting away about what a beautiful day it was and, by golly, we’re hungry! Let’s eat! She took off her shoes – they were wet and muddy – and tossed them in the corner with all the other detritus of country living. After pushing back several wisps of unruly gray from her brow, she marched resolutely into the kitchen, grabbed and put on an apron and started fussing about like she owned the place. My mother and I could only look at each other blankly.

Stan had repaired to a corner of the living room and was sitting cross-legged on the floor, his nose in a book ...

Friday, January 9, 2009

The Further Adventures of Sir Walter Mitty


Ta-pocketa-pocketa-pocketa-pocketa revved the Rolls-Royce gas turbine bypass turbofan aero-engine as Sir Walter Mitty prepared for takeoff ... The comely cockpit stewardess, a certain Babette De Sheer, plied her sumptuous way to Sir Walter's seated, muscled side and offered him a tall, cold one: a frosty Lalique of milk, shaken, not stirred ...

"Walter ... Walter! What are you doing? You've just spilled your tumbler of milk all over my new linen tablecloth!"

"De Sheer, De Sheer," muttered a dazed Walter, one foot still in the Vickers VC10 cockpit, the other wrapped around a Carolina Cottage Prairie dining chair in his mother's over-upholstered dining room.

"What ever is that you're burbling, Walter?" demanded Mother Mitty, not exactly your garden-variety shrew though her maiden name, ironically enough, was Harridan.

"De Sheer, er, uh ... Dis here is some mess I've created, Mother - so sorry!" Walter declared, by now fully disentangled from the allure and heavy parfum of Babette.

"I really want you to see Dr. Bothlewaite, Walter. I'm going to call him right now. Don't you go wandering off, do you understand?"

"Yes, Mother," Walter demurred, looking out the large bay window at his wild blue yonder.



Sir Walter had single-handedly taken out an entire contingent of the French West African rebel guerillan force, much to the relief and, this writer daresays, astonishment of the true French Foreign Legion. Back to the barracks, the radiant Brigadier General was hoisted onto the shoulders of soldiers jubilant at their hero's exploits; the canteen cooks, alerted to the soon re-entry of the swarming smarmy army, hastily fried up a mess of especial pain roti aux oeufs a la francaise for the famished warriors.

"Thank you, my fellow comrades," Sir Walter intoned, "but it's to you that I raise this pitcher of syrup in hearty salute ..."

"Walter!" Mother Mitty shrilled. "How was the French Toast? Did you clean up after yourself? Is that syrup on your chin??



"Walter, dear, I'm having you return the watering can to Framistanyl Mercantile. The spout holes are much too small and I haven't the entire afternoon to wile away watering my ageratum. Please hook up the new rubber garden hose to the rear bib and water my bed for me. There's a good lad," Mother Mitty carried on as Walter stared vacantly into his tiresome mother's eyes.

On the other hand - the one not engaged with the careful unwinding of the rather stiffish 50 feet of rubber tubing - Walter saw his true reflection all too clearly in the bay window, dressed for the Kalahari safari for which the lordly Earl Smedley Snaithe-Witherswright had professionally engaged him. Pith helmet surely set at a jaunty angle atop the handsome and square-jawed head, a rakish Sir Walter led the desert-bound expedition into the Maw of Hell.


"I say, Wally, quite a little junket we've set out upon, eh?" quipped the Earl.

"Ah, right you are, Smeds, old chap," Sir Walter replied, drawing steadily but hugely upon his Meerschaum. "The Popa Falls will afford us the opportunity to view the occelated spiny eel in its natural habitat, a rare but worth-the-effort endeavour, if we're clever."

"Mastacembelus vanderwaali, I must confess, has always been a favourite of mine and little Doxie." Pausing momentarily, as if in a deep and impenetrable thought process, all the while knitting up a considerable mass of eyebrows, the consternated Sir Smeds then demanded, with no little perplexed curiosity, "How do you mean, 'if we're clever'?"

"The masta," Wally put in, "is an elusive little devil, intent against any and all capture forthwith by man or beast. It is a little known fact that ..."

Before the expert anguilliformist/herpetologist could spew further dusty data on Class Osteichthyes, Dusilla Mambarta, trusted guide and scout to the party, interjected with barely disguised rapture, arms excitedly flailing about,

"Bwana, mon petit homme important, Popa falling waters we find her! Come, follow!"

Wasting no time and, surely with no further ado or adon't, the expedition ploughed a massive furrow forward, the two aristocrats in the vanguard.

Fully wound down the precipitous escarpment, both the savage and the cosmopolitan mottled crew arrived at the vale of La Grande Popa. There, in the capacious catch-basin of the thundering cascade, shone like the Jewels of the Blessed Madonna the venerable, the sacred occelated MASTA.

Of course, given the uber superstitious character of those indigenous to the Kalahari Alluvial Delta, the natives fell of one accord to their collective knee, heads bowed in the deepest and most pious reverence to the spiny incarnation of their slimy deity. Though nominal and straitlaced Anglicans, the Sir and the Earl, nevertheless, could not help but let fly a single half-choked sob betwixt themselves.

The simple, besotted jungle folk refused to proceed further, daring not to tread upon sacred ground. Not to be deterred by such sodden malarkey, Sir Walter - solo - walked resolutely toward the hallowed waters. Once upon the basin and its roiling, sparkling vapors, Sir Walter removed his regimental trappings, rolled up and fastened his right blouse sleeve, and, with nary a wince, plunged his hand into the maelstrom.

In a mere moment he pulled out his submerged limb, and there - amid the screams and wails of the pagan laity - writhed most ferociously the revered booty ... slashing ... thrashing ... wriggling to set itself free....


"Walter Mitty!!! What have you done to my bed!!!???" bellowed an enraged Mrs. Mitty, as she gasped in horror as her seemingly entranced son, Walter, was fighting an out-of-control rubber hose under high pressure, water pummeling her silken bed comforter through an open bedroom window.