by James Tow
fire burning my body and soul.
“Do not play with the Devil,” he sneered then turned around storming off down the aisle and into the next cabin. Paul turned to look at me.
“You’re insane. Do you know that?”
“I’m getting there,” I replied. I don’t think that I’m being ridiculous about all of this. “I’ll show you the Devil,” I whispered to myself. I slouched back down into my seat and Paul sat in his.
“You know you’re going to have to apologize to the man,” he told me. I just sat, staring at the ceiling.
“What would you rather go for right now: a juicy rib-eye or one of dad’s double bacon cheeseburgers?” I asked him.
Paul slouched in his seat, “Hmm, it really depends on the size of the rib-eye, but I’d most likely go for the burger. You?”
“Same,” I told him.
Now smiling he asked, “Now for the drink, would you want an ice cold Coca-Cola or some Kool-Aid?” We looked at each other and laughed. “Kool-Aid,” we said at the same time.
“Ok, what about a chocolate cake or apple pie?” I asked him.
“Ugh, man you need to change the subject from food. I’m hurtin’ over here,” he groaned.
“Actually, that wasn’t such a bad suggestion. My stomach hates me right now,” I said through a drooling mouth.
So I changed the subject like he asked, “If we were stuck in a tough situation—tenfold worse than what we just went through—which fictional character would you want by your side?”
“Wow, that’s a good one,” he noted. “I will have to go with Darth Vader.”
I laughed at this. “I’m torn between John McClane and Jacob McCandles.”
“That old fart?” Paul asked me.
“That old fart can kick both of our asses.” I told him.
“You’re insane,” Paul started. “You have all these people to choose from…like Wolverine, the Green Lantern, and you choose them?”
I just shrugged. “They’d find a way.”
“Alright,” he started again but then paused to think, “If things were back to normal, would you rather be a doctor or an attorney?”
“That’s too easy. If you compare attorney to anything from ditch digger to playing Death, I will always choose the latter.”
Paul broke the silence after a minute or so of me staring out the window, “You know, we sort of play Death.” I must have put on a pained expression for Paul apologized, “I didn’t mean anything by it.” I put my hand up to him and shook my head.
I found myself staring at the television, trying to remember the last time I watched a program. I never really enjoyed T.V. much—I found commercials unbearable. There were several which forced me to change a channel or switch the damn thing off, like the over-the-top car commercials, the extravagant perfume commercials, the late-night infomercials of promiscuous college girls, and the cavemen promoting car insurance. The list goes on.
My imagination takes a turn for the worst, or I hope it’s my imagination, as my own commercials entertain me through the blank television. I see a six year old boy sitting up, at his bedside, coughing into his hands. His mother walks in asking ‘what’s wrong?’ with a fake look of concern. The boy says he can’t stop coughing and that his throat hurts. So the mother says ‘I’ve got just the thing’ with a fake smile on her face. She comes back with a pack of Marlboro’s, taking one out and sticking it in the child’s mouth. She pulls out her Zippo and lights it. The boy takes a drag and gives a convincing sigh of relief, followed by a ‘thanks mom. You’re the best.’
“People these days, thinking if it’s on T.V. then it has to be good for you,” my dad tells me from the window seat next to me. At least I think it’s my dad. “And these kids whine too much,” he said leaning in toward me. “It builds character,” we both agreed.
I turn my attention to another commercial. This time, a sleek black car was speeding toward an advancing medieval army. Marching knights held broadswords, battle axes, ball and chains, and were ready to put their weapons to the test. As the car drove through the ranks the knights, grunting and screaming, swung their weapons at the car. Unscathed, the car trekked on. Next, large boulders fell from the sky, falling directly on the sexy vehicle. Again, the car is without a scratch.
“Oh yeah, like I’m going to be driving my car on some ancient battlefield anytime soon.” My sister’s smart-ass comment came from my right. At least I think it’s my sister. When I look over to her, she’s staring out the window sitting in the exact position I’m sitting. I turn my head back to the television.
“You want the car. Don’t act like you don’t want it.” We both said snickering.
The next commercial started playing with corny hip-hop beats. A figure of a muscular man, without a shirt, was dancing to the beats in the dark. Suddenly, he runs up to the camera. He’s wearing sagging jeans, a large golden belt buckle, a chain around his neck with a spinning medallion, and a skull cap. He also has long scraggly hair, complete with a scrappy beard. “Yo! I’m Jesus Christ!” he started, and I stood up reaching for the off button, while making sure I don’t wake Paul. “If you worship me, you can dance like this…” I didn’t let him finish.
I sat back down to find my mother staring at me from across the table. At least I believe it’s my mother. I can’t be sure. She’s wearing a long black shirt, black pants, black gloves, and a large black hat with a black veil.
“Where is your faith son?” She asked me.
I could only laugh and shake my head, “I’d hardly constitute me turning off that garbage as having no faith.”
“Where is your faith son?”
“I really don’t want to go there right now. Can’t we just relax? And talk about what we’re going to do this weekend? I was thinking of going out to the park.” I said but stopped. I had the feeling she wasn’t listening.
“Where is it?” she pressed.
I felt the anger rising again. I don’t like my family seeing me angry, so I closed my eyes and put my head down. “I have my free will. Where is yours?” I looked up after she didn’t respond, but she was gone. They were all gone. They probably went to the restroom.
I noticed the T.V. was on. I could have sworn I turned it off. I knew the image it showed all too well…my favorite tree. Every day, I used to visit this heavenly spot with her. It was a massive oak tree positioned about a quarter-mile behind our old high school. We sat away from the school, for the other side held open field and more trees. She and I talked mostly of the day. She would always just close her eyes and lay her head under my arm and against my chest. We stayed like this for hours at a time.
I was now standing in front of the chain-linked fence, marking the entrance to the field. At least I think it’s the field...I can see the oak tree. I turn around to make sure, but the school is non-existent. I turn back to the fence and a long white ribbon, tied to the fence, was brushing against my face. She was waiting for me.
She always wears these white ribbons in her hair, in memory of her late family, and she ties them to the fence to indicate she’s waiting for me. I look off into the distance, toward the tree, and see her legs sticking out from behind it. Now, I try to run as fast as I can, but I can’t. This is like one of those dreams where you feel as if you’re fully submerged under water and can’t run. I can hardly move my body, and my grunting and screaming isn’t helping. I’ve wasted too much time running like this, and what I want is too precious to give up. Concentrate. Know what you want. Feel her, smell her, touch her, and love her. My body has broken the surface, and then my legs. I’m running through the field, while leaping over thick brush, as fast as I can. And I finally reach the oak tree, coming to an abrupt halt by her legs.
She’s lying down, on the grass, with her eyes closed. She’s wearing my favorite white dress. She opens her eyes and sits up, staring at me. Her smile is brilliant and gorgeous. She scoots over and pats the ground next to her. I assume my position, and she assumes hers as she throws my arm around h
er. She begins playing with my shirt and I realize I’m wearing her favorite white shirt and khaki pants.
“I heard you arguing with you mom. That wasn’t very nice of you.” She said.
“Is this real?” I ask through a smile.
“No,” she said bluntly, “But it’s not my place to tell you what to believe.”
“Then where are we?” I ask. She looked up at me with sadness in her face, “You don’t know where we are?”
We looked at each other and I said, “Of course I know where we are.”
She smiled. We stayed, motionless, for an eternity, and an eternity I could stay. We watched the light wind caress the tall grass, weaving it in beautiful symmetry. I haven’t had this in ages—relaxation at its best.
I had to break the silence. I want to hear her voice. I could ask her a question, for she has an answer for everything. Though her answers for my questions are not what I want to hear, but her voice is worth it. Either way, I must ask something before this happiness ends.
“Why were you taken from me?” I ask looking away. I could feel her piercing gaze on me now.
“It was you who was taken from me,” she said.
What? “I don’t understand.”
She continued, “We lived happily ever after, did we not?”
“The beauty and the beast,” I added. She giggled at this, “my beast.”
“But,” she continued, “even though I do not exist in flesh and blood, I’m still happy and care free,
