In this state, Cale finally sympathized what Diana went through every year around the holidays. It was a feeling of isolation being pounded into his psyche with each full house he passed. Everyone had someplace to be and someone to be with, but there he was, walking alone in the cold.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a second shadow creeping ever so closer to his own. He turned around, and found Diana gaining ground on him while saying something that was drowned out by the music.
Taking the headphones out of his ears, he heard, “About time I finally got your attention. I've been screaming your name.”
Cale fought the urge to say, 'What's new, you're always screaming my name' and instead held up his earbuds, and admitted, “You know me.”
“Yeah, I figured as much.”
They faced each other in the middle of the street not saying anything. Each breath they took hung in the cold air for a second until disappearing into nothingness, just like every thought either had as to what to say.
It was Diana who broke the silence, “You know, I'm finally coming around to the fact I can be around you and not want to kiss or kill you.”24
Cale laughed, and said, “Well I never want to kill you. Kiss you, yeah, but definitely not kill.”
“Why did you show up tonight? How can you...” Diana was cut short after two of the buttons on her coat popped off. Her stomach had finally outgrown her clothes.
“Wow, you are really starting to show, but you look good as a pregnant woman. I like your short hair too.”
“I don't care for compliments right now, just tell me why you came here tonight?”
Following Jenny's advice, Cale spoke from the heart. “Look, I didn't come over to apologize about walking out or asking for adoption. I came over because I wanted to be completely honest with you for once in my life.
“I was terrified to be a father, well, still am actually. There is so much that can go wrong, and let’s face it, I wasn't the most dependable person in the world, but I promise I've changed. You and the baby come first. I'm not running from loss anymore.”
Diana asked, “Running from loss?”
Cale breathed deep and shivered in the cold. “It started when my mom died. This fear of loss. It was like endlessly falling in darkness. Nothing to grab onto, no parachute, no lights. But I did open up again with my friends in DC. I loved them all, but I learned then I have this amazing ability to screw things up. I was never able to stop from losing my friends. They were the source of my art, and that's why nothing I do is good anymore. That's why I'm here tonight. I don't want what happened in DC to happen again. I don't want to lose you.”
He said more in those few minutes than the entire time they dated. Diana wasn't expecting this. It was shocking. She was shocked.
“Cale, I... how can I trust you? What happens if this is just a temporary thing and you freak out again? Did you ever stop and consider that I'm scared about having the baby too. Being a single mom is going to be too much for me to handle.”
“You're stronger than that.”
“No I'm not, and you know it. Our daughter will need both of her parents.”
“Daughter!?”
“Oh, I guess I never told you. It was big news to me too. There's actually a person in here.” Diana patted her stomach. “Cale, why don't you come back to the house? We can talk some more and get out of his terrible cold. Just try not to provoke my mom too much.”
“Thanks,” Cale said and smiled warmly.
Through the yellow lit streets, they walked back to the Young house. Halfway there, their hands came together.
And this would be the moment when violins would start playing.
LIKE THE PENNY TRAY AT A GAS STATION, THIS WAS A SERIES OF GIVES AND TAKES INVOLVING UTTERLY MEANINGLESS ITEMS
In the darkness of Diana's bedroom, several flashes of New Years' fireworks appeared through closed blinds. Each flash made Cale feel even more awake. He wanted to be out among the partiers, not lying in bed at 12:30. Going to bed at 12:30 on New Year’s Eve just did not feel right.
It was the first time he could remember not being at a partying on New Years. As a boy, his parents held giant parties which evolved into him and his dad going to illustrious DC soirees after his mom died. From his teenage years onward, New Year’s Eve were frantic, wild nights that thankfully never ended in an arrest. It wasn't that Cale avoided doing anything illegal, the cops were simply too busy with more profitable activities25 to track down some stoned and drunk teenagers and their creative use of Christmas lights in public places.
For Cale, being tame was going to be the toughest challenge he ever faced. Everything that felt natural and right needed to be changed. It's one thing to abstain from a drink here and there or not smoke for a week or two, but this change went far beyond the temporary. This was going to be a complete overhaul of his life.
Going to bed at 12:30 on New Year’s Eve just did not feel right.
Diana parked her black Mercedes behind Full Steam Ahead as she and Cale got out and walked to the coffee shop. It was a Saturday trade-off of sorts, she would sit in Full Steam Ahead with Cale for an hour or so, and he would go to the park and jog with her. It was safe to say that neither was looking forward to the other's idea of an ideal Saturday.
Holding the door open for Diana, Cale said, “I'll need to stop by my place after we leave so I can pick up some running clothes.”
Sarcastically, Diana asked, “Do you even have any?”
“I was going to wear a long sleeved shirt and some loose jeans?”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah, is that okay?”
Diana exhaled loudly and told him, “Oh Cale, that's not going to work. After we leave here, we'll go to the mall and I'll buy you some clothes to run in.”
He wanted to argue back and tell her he had no desire to go running. It was January in Denver, a time when it may look warm and sunny outside, but that is just a trap. The thermometer might say fifty-five, but with forty MPH winds and a decent cloud cover, it might as well be the Arctic. Cale knew it was going to suck, yet he couldn't tell her no.
They sat down in the familiar corner table. Diana had the New York Times and a cappuccino while Cale had a coffee and nothing else. As she began to read the paper, she lowered it to see what Cale was doing.
Nothing. He was just sitting there staring out the window, and for some reason, this bothered her. “Cale, what in the hell are you doing?”
“Just thinking. Sometimes when I sit here, I like to stare out onto 6th Ave and let my mind go.”
“And that's fun for you? Sitting there doing nothing?”
He wanted to tell her that he spent the time trying to come up with new sculptures, but couldn't figure out a way to differentiate it from daydreaming.
Sculpting, or any creative pursuit for that matter, begins with a formless idea and grows from there. Every painting, song, performance, etc. begins as a shapeless object lacking any detail except for one hook or feeling. Michelangelo didn't have a clue what to paint on the Sistine Chapel, he just wanted to honor God26, and from this desire, the various scenes were developed in his mind, then sharpened, and then painted. The Beatles' Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band started with a desire to create an alternative band that wouldn't have to deal with the widespread fame that plagued The Beatles. This idea was abandoned once they started to record, but without it, the album would have never existed.
With Diana waiting for an answer, Cale said, “It's hard to explain.”
Diana thought she would be getting an insight into what the art community labeled as genius, so she asked, “C'mon Cale, if it's really that interesting that you'll stare out a window for hours, I want to hear it.”
Cale realized he had to tell her something, and if he couldn't describe his art, he settled on their relationship. “Lately I've been thinking a lot about us. Like what's our next step? Should we get married or move in together first? I mean, I stay at your place most of the week
anyway. If we're going to be a family, shouldn't we be heading in that direction?”
“I've been thinking the same thing! I'm assuming our pact is still on?”
The pact. Cale had forgotten about the pact. There were so many more pressing issues going on in his life. “Ummm... I'm still for it, but what about moving in together? Shouldn't that be the first step?”
Without hesitation, Diana said, “You can move into my place if you want.”
With hesitation, Cale said, “Yeah, let's do it. I'll still keep my warehouse as a studio and stuff, but everything else I'll bring over to your...I guess our place now.”
Even though she never lived with a boyfriend before, Diana was happy about this progress. Blinded by joy, she overlooked the negatives – the loss of privacy, adjusting to another person's living style, cooking for two, cleaning for two, and hundreds of other facets. Instead, she focused solely on moving that much closer to her imaginary typical family. She leaned over the table, kissed Cale, went back to reading her paper, and let him return to staring out the window.
Along a path encircling Cheesman Park, a park larger than some small towns, Cale found himself struggling to keep up with the pregnant Diana while the pregnant Diana found herself struggling to slow down for Cale.
Every second on the run was painful for Cale. His legs felt heavier by the step. His lungs suffered from an adulthood of smoking. His hydration consisted of nothing but coffee. By the first stride, he was dead in the wind.
With a mouth as dry as the desert, he passed a clump of dirty snow, and debated whether it would be worth it to try and drink. In the end, he did the right thing and passed on the snow not out of fear, but rather as a better alternative presented itself. Forty feet down the sidewalk, a collection of sprinklers were on.
Diana looked back and shouted, “We haven't even gone a mile yet. Don't tell me you're already tired?”
Cale couldn't talk. He didn't have the saliva to form the words, nor the ability to think of anything other than whatever body part was hurting.
As Cale huffed and puffed his way along the trail, Diana realized what a mistake it was to bring him along. She wanted an equal to be out there with her, not someone that would hold her back.
They stopped next to a family having a picnic, which was reciprocated by the family stopping their picnic to witness the pregnant woman easily out-running a man who appeared to be in decent shape. Saliva had returned to Cale's mouth, or at least enough that he could ask, “How can you do this every day?”
Diana laughed and said, “It's not an everyday thing. Are you really hurting that much?”
“It's tough, but we can continue on. I'll get through it.”
Diana wanted him to stop, and just let her run. She knew he was trying hard to do what she wanted, but this was a mistake.
At the picnic table, a little boy began to cry. It was a piercing shrill that could rip eardrums to shreds. Diana surveyed the scene and said to Cale, “Just think, in five or so months, we'll be hearing that sound all the time. I'm scared that it will drive me insane.”
“I'm scared that we'll get used to it.”
“Look at them, Cale. They're acting like he isn't making a sound. I feel like we should go over there and ask for their secret.”
By this point, Cale's legs didn't feel so heavy anymore. His breathing, heart-rate, and all those other biological functions had returned to normal. Confidently, he said, “Let's get back to running. I'm just starting to catch a second wind.”
Diana knew he would return to a near walk once they returned to their jog, so she told him, “It's alright, Cale. You're off the hook for good behavior. I'm gonna do another few miles. Can you wait around for another half hour?”
“Are you sure? I really don't mind.”
Diana nodded.
“Okay then, I'll be by those benches next to where we parked.” It was impossible for him to hide the smile at this news. Granted, sitting outside in the cold weather wasn't really his idea of a great Saturday either, but he would certainly take it instead of running.
As she took off, Diana yelled back, “If you get bored, see if you can find out how those people weren't bothered by that kid screaming!”
“Um... okay! I'll check it out!”
Moreso than the difficulty he faced running, drinking in moderation, giving up smoking, and going to bed before midnight, the thing Cale struggled with the most was talking to Diana in a responsible way. Every word he spoke had her approval in mind. No jokes, no craziness, not even a darlin'. He felt censored, but yet he vowed to continue this way. His family was back, and he didn't want to lose them again. Not when his art depended so much on it.
Inside Cale's studio warehouse apartment, boxes and clothing were piled next to the hangar door in preparation for the next day's move. In the middle of the room was a stone slab about the size of a trash can that he just procured for his next piece. Everything in his life was in its right place. It was time to create.
He started off with his computer, or to be specific, his music. The selection was The Dismemberment Plan's Change. The same album he would listen to in DC while sculpting. Call it a way of reliving the past through music. A time machine that would bring him back to an era when he actually was a sculptor.
He grabbed the chisel and mallet and walked over to the slab as Sentimental Man started to play. Typically at this point, he would have an idea for what he was going to create. That wasn't the case this time, so he stared at the slab in hope inspiration would come. Nothing came.
The next song on the album was The Face of the Earth. He was still staring at the slab when it came on. Finally, he decided to start chiseling in hope something, anything, would come out. You can't force creativity, and Cale knew this, yet he still couldn't stop trying.
He put the chisel to the slab, and held it there as Superpowers played. From the first line, this was the song that always got to him. I have seen the world's most beautiful women undress in ordinary solitude. Sculpting beautiful women was his specialty. His bread and butter. But the lack of any good image left him toast.
As Play for the Piano rang out, he stepped away and made himself a drink out of frustration. With a freshly made martini in hand, he gulped it down almost as fast as he poured it into the glass.
“God, please help me with this. Nothing's coming,” Cale said out-loud as he walked back to the slab. His legs and arms tingled from the martini, the last burst of feeling before becoming dull. Come Home was just finishing as he arrived in front of the stone.
He took a swing and started to knock off the top corners. Every pound of the mallet felt good, even though he wasn't sculpting anything. To the tune of Secret Curse, he pounded every corner until the slab was a rough cylinder of jagged edges.
Automatic was the next song, which he ran over and skipped. This song didn't fit in the moment. Too slow and too dull, it lacked the powerful feeling he needed.
Following Through was after that, and as he turned around and saw the makeshift cylinder, he gripped the mallet and chiseled harder. “What the fuck is wrong with me?!” He shouted at the cylinder. It was impossible for any ideas to reach him now. All he could think about was destruction.
Stone flew off in all directions as Cale pounded away. He was lost in his own world where all that mattered was uncontrollable destruction. Instead of singing along, he cried out a deep, coarsening yell that would likely cost him his voice for the rest of the day. “Well IIIII...I am a time bomb, and IIIII...lay forgotten at the bottom of your heart! I'm fine! Ticking away the hours to blow your world apart!”
In front of thousands of stone pebbles, Cale flung the mallet and chisel across the room, and fell forward onto the wooden platform with both of his hands as support. Bits and pieces of stone could barely be seen through the hair in his eyes. The Other Side was the track running, but it was tuned out amidst his own failure.
Finally, the last song of Change came on. Ellen and Ben, a story about a guy losing two fri
ends to romance, and their subsequent breakup. Cale lifted his head up and saw the pile of boxes and clothes by the door. The next day he would be moving in with Diana, the official start of their life as a family. Diana and the baby, that's all that came to him every time he tried to envision a piece.
Maybe he really was changing, but was it for the better?
Diana hunched over the desk of Dr. Lincoln's receptionist. She had just finished the first of many ultrasounds. The details of it can be spared since every book, TV show, and movie have described the process of viewing new life to death.
There was one noteworthy aspect of the ultrasound worth mentioning. Diana was unmoved while viewing the sonogram of her daughter. It wasn't unmoved in the heartless sense, but instead a simple 'meh' at the grainy black and white video. The call about the gender meant something. This was just window dressing.
As she compared the filled calendar on her phone with possible days Dr. Lincoln was available, a bawling woman carrying a baby with a blotch of dried blood on its head ran into the waiting room screaming, “I need help! Please, I have to see Dr. Lincoln right now!”
Naturally, the receptionist turned her attention from Diana to the hysterical woman and asked, “What's the emergency?”
“Are you blind!? Georgie fell onto the corner of the coffee table, and his head hasn't stopped bleeding since! It could be a concussion... or, oh God, what if the fall shook him!? I need to see Dr. Lincoln immediately, this is my baby's life we're talking about!”
“Please ma’am, try and stay calm. I'm paging her right now.” The receptionist had been through this situation so many times that she stopped bothering to help these frantic mothers. She knew that the baby was alright. Hell, he wasn't even bleeding anymore.
In less than half a minute, Dr. Lincoln came out to the frantic wails of the mother. Calmly, she said, “Let's go back to an examination room. I can do a thorough evaluation there.”
A Pact For Life Page 14
