baywood 1

V

THE ARRIVAL - sketch

DAFFODIL ARRANGEMENTS

 

The Wedding. It was all supposed to play out magically, with flower girls, ring bearers, best men, and maids of honor. Balloons, symmetrically placed along the aisle, bobbed in the breeze from white chairs all in a row, waiting for the moment..

The Daffodil arrangements, made a striking accent.

A string quartet played, with dry precision.

The dove crates arrived on time, and the birds were primed for their release.

But ‘the Wait’ was wanting something to happen, and the throng started to stir. What was the matter? was the tone of the chatter, and no one could answer.

Then the shriek filled the chapel, and the commotion commenced. In the midst of it all, to the horror of the bride, hence her plaintive cry, it seems, the groom has died.

He went quietly, silently, leaving a sad simple note that said,

“I chose suicide”.

V

CITY AT NIGHT / sketch

V

WOMBATS' MISTAKE

 

Flynn knew the character of the woman he was dealing with. Something was ‘broken’ there. He’d tread carefully. Draw it out, slowly, if need to be, as long as it takes. The man swore to it.

He found Rachel to be wild and unpredictable. Under most circumstances, he’d have her committed under ‘probable cause’, without reason to pause. Open and shut.

But Rachel fooled him…made a fool of him. Yet, he was ready to take her along. It was madness on his part, but he had his reasons. He just could not articulate them.  

Le femme…

So, off they ran. 

He suffered her many displeasure's because that was the price of admission, and as long as he had admission, he was willing to acquiesce. He was in control…but loosing ground fast.

By Wednesday, they were in Colorado, headed West. He had her medicated thus far, but decided it was time to prepare her to ‘re-enter’ societal life. He’d ease up on her meds in tiny amounts, and by all estimations, he’d have her dried out by the time they got to California. But even at the rate they were traveling, the drive would be treacherous...and no fault of the road. 
Her 'coming down' would be dangerous, which is why he chose this stretch of long, lonely, highway. It was the Coast or bust at this point, and a 50/50 bet on the outcome.

“There’s wombats! There’s wombats!” she shrieked outside of Moab.

“What?”

“Wombats! They are everywhere! They are flying at the car…can’t you see them…Flynn, they’re terrifying! Can’t you see them? Stop the car!”

“You are Batshit-crazy. A ‘wombat’ is a marsupial, not a ‘bat’! Get it!...the FUCK!!...together!!! You're hallucinating!
 

Instead, she started fighting the wheel, going this way and that. He had to pull over, no choice, then the highway patrol gets involved, and before you know it, she’s shot someone.

Which is just great because now he was at her mercy, and ‘California’ is never gonna happen.

She left him on the side of the road, and actually drove at least, two miles, before she collided with the abutment.

All bets are off. 
She had it coming.

V

EXIT

 

Ellen met me on the hillside. I didn’t like the look in her eyes. She was terrified. She couldn’t speak. She hyperventilated. Panic had set in. I tried to reassure her, but she’d have none of it. She pulled away and ran over the rise, there. It wasn’t going to be easy. I followed in the darkness, but tripped on an old root, which sent me toppling. I rolled, uncontrollably,  down the hill. I may have blacked out. 

In the meantime, she had time to escape, and she took it.

Released from the ER, I had cracked three ribs with a few abrasions, but that was not my worry.  All I cared about was Ellen.  

Three days, now…

and five days after that. Same story. 

I started to believe she wasn’t coming back.

Ten days had passed and her rent was due. She had planned to move in with me, so she gave notice to the landlord, and the apartment was to be rented so she had to get out. I thought, perhaps I should start boxing up a few things…in either case, whether she moved in with me, or….you don’t want to think about it…

I grabbed a dinner to go – cheap, Vietnamese – and decide to spend the evening doing some light packing, with a few beers. I took the stairs, three flights up, because it always beat the elevator, especially when it was "stuck on three".

When I got there, a bit out of breath, I saw her door open slightly, then close. I wondered if someone had noticed the lack of activity and gained entry. I set down my dinner and proceeded with caution, which I hardly ever do. I approached the door and tried to see through the peep hole, to no avail. But, I had them cornered. 
“I could call the cops”, I was thinking, maybe aloud, then the door opened a crack.

I approached and pushed it open. As the light spilled across the room, I saw her – Ellen.

“Is that you? Are you alright?”

“I came to pack. To leave.”

“...to my place for awhile ?”

“Not to your place, or any place you are.”

“Why”

“I started to see!”

“Yes?”

“To see myself…with you…forever, and I just ran, Still running, so please, clear a lane and allow me to escape.”

I stepped aside, and she was gone. 

I ate one last meal at her place, before locking up for good.

V

THE DISTURBANCE

 

I woke up, pulled the shades, allowing morning’s light to spill across the room…when a sparrow, out of nowhere, smashed into the window’s reflection of the sunrise, and broke it’s neck. He should have seen it, the sun shined so clear, it didn’t register.

It’s final gasp in my hand, warm…but he grew stiff…it was due, and done, in a whisper.

“Due” to timing…to reflections, and refractions…to speed, to flight, and it’s swift myriad of angles.

'Here's to split-second decisions, right or wrong.'

He just never saw it coming. Poor thing.

I was just killing time…wasting time… waiting for the coffee to perc’… still groggy, I went over to kiss your Mom. But, I stopped to pull the shade first, he forgot to look in that second, and …bonk.

A ‘Dead’ sound, recognized instinctively, as a finale, has stuck with me throughout the day. 

V