“Shit!” I yelled in hopes of getting the bus driver’s attention. That’s when the guy got out of his seat then moved onto the floor and crawled after those invisible strings.
“Hey, sit in your seat!” the bus driver shouted at him.
An older lady quietly took control of the situation and guided the crazy teenager back to his seat. He seemed totally unaware of his surroundings. Again, the guy started with those hand gestures. I quickly came to the conclusion that half of these passengers were normal while the other half scared the living shit out of me.
I gazed out my own window. Through the intense fog I could see the waves of the ocean. The boulders were barely visible as they peeked out of the water adjacent to a red lighthouse. Beauty abounded on this coastal highway, and I tried hard to lose myself into its vastness, desperately needing the rolling waves to keep my sanity. I blocked out the noise, my mental recall of music overrode it and I rested in the haven of jazz music.
With a sudden jerk, my body was pulled upright; a jolt of force awakened me to the sound of the bus tires when they screeched to a halt. Our first rest stop was in a small seaside town called Astoria. A quick glance at my watch, I noticed three hours had passed. Thank God, I slept through all of those miles, closing out the sounds of my fellow passengers.
Dark clouds and rain took over. I grabbed my gear and ran for shelter from the pouring rain and entered the lobby of The Villagers Café. After ordering, I devoured a roast beef sandwich, then hooded up my sweatshirt and made my way outside. There was no way in hell that I could get back on that bus with all those crazies.
I proceeded on foot towards the waterfront taking my time to explore the west port, viewing the dock that housed several 1800’s ships. Giant mast sails adorned these old wooden boats; they swayed in a rhythmic motion while the wind blew harder. I observed closer that which I appreciated: the craftsmanship of their historical beauty. I then heard chatter from the tourists who gathered in line to ride the 1913 trolley car, which ran the river walk that delivered them to shopping sites and tours of old Victorian houses. I noticed the relaxed atmosphere as the air misted over Astoria everyone appeared happy.
Nonetheless, now that I am outside amongst them, my memories of my family crept in and I wondered how my brother George was doing. I have so much empathy inside of me for my mother. I realize how hard it must be for her to live without her husband and sons. I have hopes of renewal. I made a mental note to email her soon regarding my journey thus far.
The forest receded into the mountains with each footstep I entered onto a new path instilled with Mother Nature’s environment. Cold and shivering, drenched in a shower of rain, my mind finally still. I gazed upon the beacon that glowed atop Cape Mears Lighthouse, while I sat in a cocoon of peace. Soaked in all the vitality this earth offered. Laughter spewed out of my mouth at the sight of a sea otter that dove into the ocean then glided back onto the rocks. I viewed the seagulls that soared overhead through foggy skies. Inhaling these gifts of life, I stood strong encircled in the green rolling hills that covered the land with flourishing trees.
I was so pleased with myself in the decision to venture on foot, forfeiting the bus. This journey has enriched my behavior, giving back to my inner self: Steven, the quiet musician. Happiness excites me when I think of Portland, to hook up with musicians.
I pressed the Send button; the email flew into cyberspace. Mom will probably open it after breakfast, which was her normal routine. In writing, I apologized for my abruptness in leaving her, and shared my experiences so far. Mainly the beauty of Oregon and the balance of peace I felt. I know she will understand, and I only hope this will give her some comfort. Although I wished my brother wouldn’t have taken off like he did. His shy outlook on life bothered me, and without Dad, I wondered how he would manage.
I walked down the road; thoughts of invisible music notes portrayed an illusion, blending with the green growth that dominated the coastline, into my own song.
Taut guitar strings became jazz sounds which entered and soothed my mind. I envisioned positive things happening in my life with every footstep I take. My feet sank in the beach sand; my movements had slowed. Then I placed myself upon a boulder and sat close to the incoming tide. My backpack set aside, my guitar in hand, I played the old gypsy jazz songs. With each finger, I pronounced a blaze of vibrations that produced different sound waves across the water. One with myself, I felt with my music.
I soon realized people had gathered around me, and were seated at my side listening to me play. With a tilt of my chin I looked up and acknowledged their presence. I changed rhythmic course, switching to a livelier song I had composed while living in Washington. I sensed their excitement, and projected myself forward with even more enthusiasm, and strummed louder.
Their applause, while appreciated, embarrassed me. Yet I stood bowing to them, overwhelmed by their kindness. While orange, yellow, and blue colors fill the sky as the sun descended beyond the water.
I was taken by surprise when someone tapped me on the back. I turned to see this guy with spiky hair, who said, “Your music makes me want to dance, yet the beauty of it embraced my soul which kept me steady where I sat.”
“Wow, that was really amazingly put. That really touched me, man,” I replied.
A pretty girl about my age, rubbed her hand on my shoulder, and told me, “I come here often after work, to try and shake off the negatives that have inflicted my day. Your sound provoked positives in me. I love it, man. Thanks for letting us join your space. Would you play another song for us?”
With my chin to my chest, a slight grin emerged across my face, I asked her name.
In a playful manner she said, “I’m Kari.”
“Hello, I’m Steven…Steven Straws.”
Cross-legged, and back down onto the sand, I sat next to her friends while they anxiously awaited my next performance. I played a soft gypsy piece; all was still while the full moon glowed above us.
Chapter 4
The night air changed. The cold chilled my skin; goose bumps formed upon my arms. I pulled the drawstrings on my jacket tighter, and followed Kari up the seaside hill. I got into her black explorer SUV, and sat in the passenger seat while she drove to her parent’s farmhouse in Tillamook. I decided to accept her invitation of a night’s stay in her family’s guest quarters.
Through the trees, a dim lit path curved toward the front of her house. A white and green Victorian ranch styled structure dominated its land. Trees bordered the driveway encircling the entire house along with several rows of flowers. Kari parked the Explorer, and then instructed me to the far side of the house where the smaller guesthouse stood. Inside, the décor was classic country in beige and blue color tones. Kari switched on the lights and offered me a soda from the refrigerator. Warm pleasures snaked through me when I saw the contours of her body.
We sat together on the couch. She lowered her head with just enough of her breasts showing to me, I repositioned myself and kissed her there. My tongue tasted her chest, I saw her nipples become hard, pleasing my desire. Gently I kissed her skin, and then moved to her lips, where we met in wonderment. We made out for what seemed like hours before she pulled away. “I feel so mesmerized by your touch,” Kari said, “but I must stop myself from going any further. I hope you understand, at least for today.” She giggled.
I nuzzled her neck, confirming that I understood.
“Why don’t you get yourself ready for dinner and take a shower—by yourself,” she added and giggled more. “I’ll wait for you at the main house. I’ll inform my parents of your situation, and that you’ll be joining us tonight. I’m sure they’ll welcome you; otherwise, I wouldn’t have invited you in the first place. They’re both awesome people,” she said as her gaze wandered into the bathroom where I stood near naked.
“Okay, thank you, I’ll be there in twenty,” I shouted back.
* * * *
Kari opened the double doors, then stepped back, allowing me to enter
upon the beautiful cherry hardwood floors, which flowed the length of the foyer. “Welcome to our home,” she said with a flirtatious smile.
I smiled back, and then walked through the hallway down to the dining room where she introduced me to her parents. Her father, Paul, extended a firm yet polite handshake.
Her mother gestured for me to sit down. “This is our first time having a musician for dinner,” Joanne said excitedly.
“Perhaps after dinner you could entertain us and play your guitar,” Paul added.
“I look forward to it. However, I’m starving and honestly can’t wait to eat this meal you’ve prepared.”
Joanne did the necessities, filling each plate as we passed our dish clockwise to her. Heaps of fresh cooked vegetables, red potatoes, and thinly sliced roast beef covered the plate. My emotions arose in such a comfortable manner being here with her family.
Soft conversation set the tone for the evening as I found myself truly enjoying Paul’s stories of his family life on the farm. In return, they seemed to like my stories, especially when I described the last few days of my journey.
“I find you to be a unique young man,” Paul said. “So, it sounds like you are a philosopher/musician, one bestowing of a soulful heart.”
“How long will you be staying with us, Steven?” Joanne interrupted.
“Just tonight,” I replied.
“You’re welcome to stay a few days longer. I’d enjoy cooking for someone with an appetite. Kari eats less than the sparrows, and just a little more than our goldfish.”
Everyone laughed. Paul looked at Steven. “Your quest seems very important to you, getting to Portland and all, but really, Portland is just down the road. From what you just told us, you reached a vital point of personal acceptance this past week. Why not let it simmer, hold tight, and flourish those thoughts in your mind? See, I’m a bit of a philosopher myself. All farmers are; we heed the earth and what’s real.” Paul spoke with conviction.
A contagious burst of laughter spread through the room, Kari and Joanne roared until their faces turn red. I smiled at them in appreciation, and took a moment to ponder the idea of staying longer. “Yes, I would like to stay, perhaps for a few days, but I insist that you allow me to help cultivate your land.”
“Done deal,” Paul said, as the ladies walked into the living room while he and I went outside for a smoke. The front porch was quiet, only the puff on our cigarette was heard as we ended the night.
When I later returned to the little house, I felt totally relaxed, and thankful for this family’s hospitality. I lay alone in bed fantasizing about Kari’s naked body next to me. Strong desires burned through my core, sexual acts played into my consciousness. I wanted more from her, but instead I found my thoughts lost in my past darkness. The horrors emerged slightly for I was unable to keep them deep this time. Finally, I fell asleep.
* * * *
The rooster crowed; the sun’s rays beam through the window, waking me. Another clear day presented itself as I prepared for the morning chores. I made my way to the barn where I heard scuffling from Paul’s boots.
“Morning, Steven,” Paul said. “How about you set that fedora aside and wear this cowboy hat? It’ll be better protection for you from the sun.”
I placed the cowboy hat on my head.
“Steven, I usually do about an hour’s worth of chores before breakfast. What do you say to that?”
“I’m game, let’s get to work,” I replied, proudly touching the rim of my hat.
The next four days progressed with the same routine, which gave me a feeling of happiness. At nightfall, my fedora set back upon my head, with guitar on my lap, I performed jazz music to an audience of Paul and Joanne’s friends who gathered outside on the veranda. Music and laughter could be heard throughout the farmland. There was chatter from the ladies’ table, and happy children danced on the green lawn in front of me. There was a brief moment when my eyes focused on Kari when she swayed in song with a young child. My heart nearly skipped a beat when she smiled at me.
After the last guest left, it was the men’s time, which left Paul and I in conversation for hours talking about numerous subjects of interest. From afar, I noticed Kari watching me when she moved around the tables collecting the wineglasses.
* * * *
“I love the way Steven gestures his hands while he speaks to Dad,” Kari shared with her mother. “Look at his elbows how they rest on the table. His arms up, with his hands open holding a cigarette. He’s so cute with those brown eyes of his. See how they glow in the dim light.”
“Yes, I agree, he is adorable. I like his brown curly hair on the back of his neck,” Joanne replied. “So, does this mean that the two of you have become a couple?”
“Unsure, Mom, let’s just finish up these dishes,” Kari replied, embarrassed as she walked to the entrance of the house.
Chapter 5
In the darkness, a man pulled down on the bill of his Mariners baseball cap and adjusted his glasses. Hidden in the woods behind the shrubs that surrounded the parking lot, he waited anxiously. Random thoughts raced through his mind. Past yearnings flooded to the surface, which aggravated his emotions even more.
Remember, anyone who goes to this bar will perform weird acts with you. No matter if it’s a woman or a man I will get one to be with me now. Scum on scum, lurks outside any XXXLadies club. It’s nearly two in the morning, they should be staggering out soon. Agitated…all this waiting is making me so damn agitated.
The club chatter quieted down, people exited in a drunken stupor and drove away.
I can see him; that’s him, the one I want.
The man was pumped up with excitement. The guy dropped his keys. With one fast move, the man grabbed him from behind and beat him with the large end of a baseball bat that he had sawed into a club. The guy was bleeding and limping when the man, the perpetrator, dragged him deeper into the woods.
From his back pocket the perpetrator pulled out a knife and viciously swung it high above the guy. Like a warrior, with one quick movement, the man sliced the guy’s upper right arm. Bloody skin opened exposing the fleshy tissue and the guy howled in pain. Then slowly, ever so slowly, he enjoyed slicing the guy from his shoulder down to his wrist. The guy screamed, “You shit head!”
They wrestled to the ground practically burying themselves in the deep, wet leaves, which only induced more excitement in the man with the knife. From his back pocket, he pulled out a rope and forcefully tied it to the guy’s left arm then pulled it around his ankles. He fought the man with surprising strength, which made it difficult to keep him pinned to the ground. With the knife blade open the man slashed outward with all his rage and stabbed the guy in his lower back.
Breathing heavily, the man took a moment to pause and enjoy the sight of blood trickling down the guy’s backside. He stripped down the guy’s jeans, leaving them to rest at his feet. Fear intensified; it showed in his eyes when the man removed his own pants and hovered over him. The guy clenched his teeth as the perpetrator tried to slide his full erection into his mouth.
“Damn you! Open your mouth, you little whore! I will cut your throat. Don’t deny me this pleasure. Open it and don’t bite down.”
The guy did as he was told, hating every second of this creep when the man ejaculated.
I am finally there in my own euphoria.
He then slid downward and with the small string, the perpetrator tied the guy’s bloody hand to his cock. Stared at him and said, “You are my comfort, someone familiar to ease my darkness.”
Noises beckoned the man’s mind, he jolted upward and, with one fierce thrust, he stabbed the guy in the heart. Straddling over the dead body, he embraced the glorious blood that showered upon him.
Minutes later, the man sawed through the guy’s wrist bone, severing the hand that held his manhood.
He cradled it in his own hands; he observed its lifeless features. Weird feelings overtook him and he laughed…the perpetrator became insanel
y hysterical. He held the hand and cock then he threw it into the woods.
I throw the damn thing away, that appalling evil that controlled my fucking life!
Distraught with confusion where he had once felt glorious blood splatter, he now was overcome with sadness—the pain and devastation of his actions seethed within.
Tormented, he left the mutilated body, walked blindly into the heavy forest of trees towards a stream. The night was done.
Chapter 6
It was eleven o’clock on a Thursday morning. Called to the crime scene in the woods were Detectives Chris Fike and Donna Jones. Fike, a strong minded man, had been on the Washington State Police force for over twenty years, and was highly respected in the community. His dark wavy hair gave the impression of a younger man, not one of fifty-two years old. He stood six feet tall, muscular build, and carried himself with a true sense of pride. He always seemed to maintain an aura of kindness, which eased others into conversation.
Alongside of him was his partner Donna Jones, who had been on the force for eight years now. She was extremely analytical, no social life to speak of, and not liked by her fellow officers. However, Fike found her directness and keen observation of her surroundings an asset to all their investigations.
Fike approached the scene. “Hello Bob, how’s your family doing?”
“Baby Jodi is pulling herself up onto the couch now, getting into everything, causing Jane and I to become nervous wrecks. Yet we love every crazy minute of it.”
“Pass my hellos onto your wife for me.” Fike continued his stride.
Bob signaled to him with a wave of his hand. “Over there, about twenty-five yards into the woods. The team has already secured off a large perimeter around the victim.”
With a Tilt of My Hat Page 2
