A dream

(note: not sure if the date is right. I could have sworn I dreamt this in Tulsa, but this date I was in Philly. Dunno)

12-17-2006

I'd been there for hours doing nothing but drinking. I wasn't sure how long and I didn't care. And I wasn't thinking about it. I was sitting by myself in the back corner. The thick dirty glum of the bar fit me like a tailored coat and I can't say I didn't like that fact. It was a dark and shadowy place in just about every way it could be: the drunks, the beams on the ceiling, the tables, the walls and the floors. There were just a few dim white Christmas style lights strung along the bar and a couple strips above on the ceiling, and even these were covered in dust and some were so dirty that they barely emitted light at all. The bar was emptying out, and as I looked around I saw mostly just lone drunk men sitting here and there. The last female in the place went out the door and there was silence. Soon though... almost imperceptibly, this silence was interrupted by a slow deep bass music coming from the juke box over in the corner in the dark. It started as a whisper, light, quickly strummed guitar and slowly grew louder in a haunting fashion. The overall tone was dark, and yet there was a lilting and almost laughing rhythm to it all. The bass made the whiskey and water in my glass ripple, just a little. Everyone in the place began singing in unison, and all at once as if on cue, without getting up or changing what they were doing at all. There were no voices coming from the speakers, just from the drunkards around me, and they all seemed to know every word. The words were sung in a low rumbling style, befitting a drunkard and a lost soul. As he began, each man had just the wispy edge of a rye smile on his face:

Oh my God, where have I been!

I look in the mirror at the skin I'm in--

My eyes are sunken and my beard is long

Thought I was right, Hell I was wrong!

Oh my God, what have I done!

When I walked out I know I had a gun,

But it's nowhere to be found

I'm so drunk I'm nearly drowned

Why don't you strike down this wretch you've found?

Why don't you strike down this wretch you've found?!

You gave me a Holy temple and I tore it down

Now my head is just a prison

And my heart a ticking bomb

But it still ain't stopped me doin' wrong!

There was a break in the singing and a bit of an instrumental part. A few of the guys dragged each other out of there seats, bottles and glasses still in hand, and began to twirl each other around the room as if in a waltz. A few glasses were knocked over or spilled and there was much hard laughter. The singing resumed, this time louder and meaner than before:

Oh my God, what have I seen!

My drawin's in the paper and there after me!

I swear I don't remember,

But I never will forget

Oh my God, what have I seen!

Oh my God, where did she go!

Your own glowing Angel with the heart of gold

She laid her hands upon my head

She bound me up whene'er I bled

Oh my God, where did she go!

Oh my God, what have I done!

When I left out I know I had a gun,

But it's nowhere to be found

I'm so drunk I'm nearly drowned

Why don't you strike down this wretch you've found?!

Why don't you strike down this wretch you've found?

You gave me a Holy temple and I tore it down.

Now my head is just a prison,

And my heart a ticking bomb

Why don't you strike down this wretch you've found!!!

At that the music took off into a swirling New Orleans style folk-blues rhythm that pushed on like a parade. Everyone was loving it. Most everyone was dancing, as well as they could dance considering the booze and the time of morning. I saw that even the guy with his head down slumped in a dark back corner table was tapping his foot. Great laughs of “Ha ha!” would erupt spontaneously around the room in the high spirited chaos. A bum covered in a dirt-blackened raggedy coat and an old fisherman's cap was trying to do a jig with a glass in his hand and he kept falling down and spilling it and getting up and dancing some more. The cap never fell off, which made me wonder when it had last been taken off at all. The bartender was wiping down the bar in rhythm to the music and he had sung every word along with the crowd without looking up from his work. I had turned sideways in my booth to watch the whole spectacle. The bar had been so dead and lifeless before the song had begun, and this sort of activity would have stood out in any case. I was particularly curious about the fact that there were no words coming out of the juke box and yet every man in the place new the song by wrote. They began to sing again as the music surged and clattered towards a crescendo:

Oh my God, where have I been!

I look in the mirror at the skin I'm in--

My eyes are sunken and my beard is long

Thought I was right, Hell I was wrong!

Oh my God where have I been!

[With this someone screamed out “O'Cleere's Pub!”]

I look in the mirror at the skin I'm in--

My eyes are sunken and my beard is long

Thought I was right, Hell I was wrong!

Oh my God, what have I done!

I can't find my Angel or my gun

And now it's nearly morning

I've got to go out in the Sun.

Oh...

My God...

WHAT HAVE I DONE!!!

With that everyone threw back the last of whatever drink they had in their hands and slammed their glasses down. The music stopped, the lights came on and everyone started heading for the exits without being asked. A few of them were arm in arm. Even the nearly dead one in the corner started crawling that way, and no one tried to hurry him. With a start I realized I should be doing the same thing, and I turned and went right behind my table to the back door to the alley. As I opened the door, I recoiled and winced involuntarily. The sun entered my eyes like an arc weld. My eyes slammed shut, so I slowly pried them open and peered out sideways as my head pounded out a few painful beats. I rolled my bloodshot eyes, dropped heavily off the steps and shuffled off into a burning, unforgiving day.

The Girl

She ran and ran and ran, never looking back or thinking about any of it, just the ground, the grass, the roads and sidewalks getting closer and closer only to disappear beneath and behind her. She put it all between herself and the place she had once called home. She wasn't thinking about where or how far she was running, she just knew she wasn't running fast enough. Alone; she did not see the people on the streets all around her. A few people saw her careening along and wondered how long a person could keep up such a pace or why anyone would want to run like that.

She pushed and forced her aching legs harder and faster and faster until the pain absolutely went to her head causing everything to drift by in slow time like a nightmare about running from something unseen, expecting some dread thing to jump out from behind every corner, every parked car, and then to easily and finally drag her down.

Ahead, and up a round grassy hill, stood a tremendous tree, old and tall with outstretched limbs offering shade and shelter. Trembling and out of breath, she staggered up the hill and leaned heavily against the tree. Her hands on the smooth cool bark felt good. Her fingers traced the scarred shape of a heart around two sets of worn initials.

“Love,” she said aloud.

She threw her head back to see a great rustling dome of green. Thin beams of sunlight drifted through the leaves, bathing everything within the ancient tree's shelter in dapples and dancing shadows. Up in the tree was a wood platform with one wall-maybe an old tree-house that had lost it's roof and three walls. She climbed up to it and sat down against the wall. Her legs were throbbing and her calf had cramped up something horrible. She took off her shoes and rubbed her foot and leg until the pain dulled and then she sat back against the wall, pulled her knees up to her chest, pulled her shirt over her knees, buried her face in her hands and burst into tears. Shaking all over, her voice fluttering and scared, she screamed and screamed until her screams became whimpers and she was too frightened of the despair in the sound of her own cries to make another sound. She fell on her side and, in time, escaped into a dreamless sleep.

Arrival-Two Kittens

We had two kittens left. My Tiger and Michael's Rattly-Alarm-Clock. At the turnpike exit, Mom gave Rattly-Alarm-Clock to the girl at the window. I tried to stop her. Didn't matter. Tiger was still sleeping, as was my brother Michael. I tilted my head to try and look out the window into the sky. It was very dark here, unlike the city. Hardly any street lights at all, but the stars were bright. 3 miles later we arrived at our new home. While everyone shuffled inside, mostly in a slumber, I stood and looked up past the tree tops towards the stars in that black sky. Blacky ran back and jumped up and licked me on the face. I went inside. Morning. Time to sleep.