by Alan D Jones
Perspective
Year: 2001
Madness. What is it? Truth be told, what it is, or even if it is, depends on where you stand. What the majority deems mad, might make perfect sense to the minority or to anyone within a given moment. So, madness, to some degree, is contextual. That context being of course, whether it’s in my neighbor’s house or mine.
“Wake up, Deb.” a soft voice spoke into Deborah.
“What am I doing here?” a confused Deborah asked as she struggled against her bonds, and the Earth trembled accordingly as she opened her eyes.
Deborah’s sisters, Ruth and Sarah looked at each other for a second before Sarah leaned over the bed to speak softly to her, “You don’t remember?”
“You do remember, don’t you, Deb?” the soft voice spoke again.
“Remember?” a puzzled Deborah asked.
“It’s not unusual that she doesn’t remember,” a white coat robed Doctor Graves called from the side of the bed as she checked the bag of saline solution filling Deborah’s veins.
Deborah tried to rise, but again the constraints created by Ruth held firm and again the Earth trembled. “No, you don’t understand. I shouldn’t be here, I shouldn’t be anywhere I slit my wrists, I died, I was dead.”
Sarah and Ruth glanced at one another believing that Deborah was having a flashback to when she a teen and tried to take her own life. Sarah said quietly to the others, “She’s been saying this for years.”
“And it’s been true for years.” The voice whispered.
Dr. Graves realizing the same as Sarah and Ruth, stepped around to look back at Deborah face to face, “How old are you?”
Deborah paused for a moment before answering, “I’m fourteen, or at least I was when I died.”
Dr. Graves continued, “Darling, you’re a grown woman with two amazing teenage kids of your own, a girl and a boy. And, look at your sisters. See, they’re adults.”
The voice replied, “They are all so linear.”
Deborah smiled and then did as the doctor requested, looking first at Ruth and then Sarah, “You’ve filled out some…” Sarah simply smiled, before Deborah continued, “Cil?”
The room froze for a moment before Sarah answered her, “Deb, Cil died Thursday, we’re burying her tomorrow.”
“Huh, what are you talking about, Sarah? Cil, what is Sarah talking about?”
“Sister, don’t worry about them. You know that they are temporally challenged.”
“You passed out at the viewing. It turns out that you were severely dehydrated.” Ruth said as she tried to comfort Deborah.
Dr. Graves chimed in, “She suffering from some sort of psychosis from her underlying condition being made more acute by her being severely dehydrated.”
Still confused, Deborah looked at each of the women standing around her before settling on Ruth, “Ruth-Ann, what have I always told you?”
Ruth, bowed a bit before speaking, “Just because your view of reality doesn’t match mine, doesn’t mean I’m crazy.”
Sarah thought to herself, “Doesn’t mean you’re sane either.”
Sensing that things in the room were deteriorating, Dr. Graves suggested, “Hey, why don’t we get out of here, so that her kids can come in and visit. Seeing them should help.”
As the ladies prepared to leave so that the next two visitors, per hospital policy, could enter, Deborah called out to Ruth, “Can you please remove these?”
The three women looked to one another again, before Ruth answered, “Sure. I just put those on you as you were waking, so that you wouldn’t hurt anyone.” And with a thought the glowing blue bans tying Deborah to her hospital bed disappeared as though they had never been.
Dr. Graves called out to Ruth and Sarah, “I’ll walk out with you.” Her reason for doing so, was so that she could speak with Deborah’s kids, Carla and Darnell. She wanted to prep them before they went in to see their mother.
After everyone was gone, Deborah continued her conversation, “Cil, what’s going on with them?”
Cil replied, “Deborah, have you forgotten, they never could see what we saw. Gifted though they are, they are blind to such things. But it is already written, that tomorrow, after the funeral, they shall see and know the weight of what I have done.”
In the eyes of God we are as words on a page. Our lives a story, with a beginning and an end. Unhindered by the three dimensions in which we move and time, the fourth dimension by which we are bound, God sees all in a simple glance. And thus, we live out our lives with our past, present and future already written; every path taken, destine since literally the beginning of time. And yet, might not the Author of such a text, take the liberty to edit it every now and then?
To see how this ends, please check out my new book, Sacrifices at Amazon.com.
Color Blind
Year: Unknown
As you see the world, I’ve been blind since birth. I see by listening. I know the truth, hear the lies, but I choose to ignore them, because to confront liars is more that I can bear.
That day started as every other day, alone and in darkness. I was walking in the woods, as I’d done countless times before, enjoying the feel of tree bark against my finger tips, of moist straw between my toes and the scent of pine in my nose. Then suddenly in my night there was a light. I turned my head and the light went away, but its glow still illuminated my peripheral vision, and led me to turn back to it. The bracelet shone in ways that even someone blind like me, could perceive it. Stumbling, I made my way to the light and saw that it was in the shape of what I knew a bracelet to be. I slid it onto my wrist and suddenly my eyes flooded with light of every color. For the first time I saw the brown bark I’d loved all those years. I saw the green grass and knelt down to touch it. A ladybug landed on a wet blade and I saw red for the first time and I gasped. But when I looked up and saw the sky, I wept without remorse.
I wanted to tell someone, so I ran to a nearby sandwich shop. Full of brightness and luminous hues, I swung the door wide and stepped in.
In that moment of new love, my open heart sought another to love, another to breathe in. But as I looked around café, I saw what I instinctively knew to be angry faces. Their skin was not brown like mine. Still believing, I sat at the gray counter before several people got up and left, as others had done many times before, but this time, being sighted, I could no longer hide behind my delusions that it had nothing to do with me. Their disdain turned my happiness into an unbearable sense of being and I ran from the counter and onto the street. With each step, each slight and dismissal from my life cascaded down upon me like dominos, insufferable and unrelenting. I ran through the rain, back through the woods, to the river beyond and unto the bridge spanning it. My salty tears flowed into my mouth as I removed and tossed my black shades into the river. I slid off the bracelet and flung it into the waters below as well. I am floating now, peering through aqua-tinted lenses into a world still revolving. Truly my pain has eclipsed my joy, and likewise shall I too pass from light back into darkness.
Please check out my new book, Sacrifices at Amazon.com.
Credits and Notes:
“Color Blind” was edited by Ed Hall.
*To Read more about the adventures about the alternate reality of Harriett Tubman please visit:www.chroniclesofharriet.com
**To read more about the Nameless Esus priest, please visit: www.aliciamccalla.com
***To read more about Changa and the warriors of Mombasa, please visit: www.mvdediaatl.com
Cover Art: Mshindo
