Terry Persun's Magical Realism Collection

by Persun, Terry

  The sun, directly overhead, threw no shadows into the street. The air was still, yet vibrant with life. Wolf knew that something heavy was going on in his life, but the outward signs didn’t express that heaviness at all. Instead, everything appeared as though nothing was wrong. On the drive to Joe’s house, Wolf fabricated stories as to what could be so important.

  Joe’s front door opened before Wolf got out of the cab. The cabby took his fee and tip and drove away. Wolf jogged up the walk and reached for Joe’s hand, but it was not offered. Instead, Joe stepped aside for Wolf to come into the house. Where’s Susan?” Wolf asked.

  “She’s upstairs.” Then, to answer Wolf ’s next question, Joe said, “So we can talk privately.” Joe led Wolf into the family room and gestured for him to take a seat.”

  “Gary,” Wolf said, knowingly. “Was it an accident?”

  Joe lowered his head. “No.”

  “What happened? An angry client?”

  “He took his own life, Wolf.” Joe’s head shook as he spoke. “He couldn’t take it any longer. He left a note. It said to tell you...” Joe swallowed hard. “...that you won.”

  Wolf fell into the back of the chair and closed his eyes. Tears escaped between the slits of his eyelids. “I don’t want to win.” He turned his head, lifted his hand to his face. “My God.”

  In a harsh voice, Joe said, “Not your God.”

  “No, Joe. Not my God. My God, not even my God, would have done this.”

  “Of all the things you competed for, family was the one thing Gary had that you couldn’t hold onto. When he lost that, it was over for him.”

  Wolf said nothing. He turned away from Joe’s stare. He could feel Joe’s eyes drilling into him, but couldn’t tell what they saw. It was only in Joe’s voice that Wolf detected any judgment. And it was there, that was certain. Condemnation rang through Joe’s tone. “It’s not my fault,” said the old Wolf as he opened his eyes, sniffed, and turned to see Joe’s reaction.

  Joe shook his head and poked a finger at Wolf. “You didn’t have to do it.”

  “I’m sorry,” Wolf said, but then defended himself. “She would have done it anyway. If not me, then someone else.”

  “Do you think for a second that Gary would feel the same if it had been someone else? Do you think he would have felt defeated?” Joe stepped forward so quickly that Wolf thought he was going to hit him and covered his face. He pushed his finger even closer into Wolf ’s space. “I was going to console you, help you handle Gary’s death. At first, I thought you’d need a friend. I thought that you could be a friend to me as well. Together we could mourn Gary’s death. But, goddammit! Seeing you, I get angry. I wish it was you instead of him and I feel guilty for thinking that. I shouldn’t feel the way I do, but I can’t help it. You are guilty. You did something unacceptable among friends. You fucking son-of-a-bitch. You goddamn son-of-a-fucking-bitch.” Joe let tears stream down his face. His mouth twisted, releasing loud sobs.

  Wolf just sat there. He still felt Joe’s finger in his face, even though Joe had lowered it. A lot of time went by before Wolf broke the silence. “I’ve changed.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “I know, but I needed to tell you. I told Gary, too. And still…”

  “Why would he believe you? Why would anyone? You lie just to get what you want. Did you lie to Lynne that night, too? Did you?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “I’m not surprised.”

  “I’ll go.” Wolf got up from his chair, then sat back down, as though he didn’t have the strength to stand. “No. I’ll stay.”

  Joe looked at him.

  “I’ve changed, Joe. You must believe me.” The new Wolf struggled with the old Wolf. He felt great pain in his heart, but didn’t show it outwardly.

  “Get out, Wolf. Just leave me alone now. I should have told you over the phone. Just go.”

  Wolf left the house and walked down the street. Anger brought out the old Wolf. He needed to walk, to think, exercise, calm down.

  CHAPTER 13

  WOLF WENT TO THE FUNERAL, but stood in the back of the room, alone and separate. A few schoolmates who didn’t know the whole story stopped to say hello, but Wolf eased himself out of conversation with long silences. Lynne, Joe, and Susan were all there together, acting as though nothing had happened, as though Lynne had not even been involved. But that didn’t matter. He willingly accepted the guilt if that’s what it took to remove it from the rest of them. At least he could take it into the woods and bury it like the entrails of a kill. He breathed heavily, felt his body enlarge with each inhalation.

  At the cemetery, out behind the maintenance building, Wolf pulled the wooden box from his suit-coat pocket, placed it on the ground, and performed his own ceremony for Gary. He remembered their friendship fondly, as explosive as it was. When very young they had been true friends, sharing toys, books, secrets. They had both changed as time moved forward, but that thread of friendship had somehow seen them through. Wolf could no more think of life without Gary than he could without his own son. Yet, Michael and he had spoken only once upon his return. Time had gone by so quickly and, in a fog from all that had happened, Wolf had lost all track. How long had it been since his return home; a few days or a few weeks?

  Wolf rocked on his knees above the wooden box, whispering his chant. He kept his eyes closed and his arms outstretched palms up. He addressed the four elements and opened his eyes. Taking up his paraphernalia, he stood, listened to traffic for a moment, and wondered about eternity and his place in it, Gary’s place in it as well.

  He walked around the building: Everyone but Joe, Susan, Lynne, Al and Connie had left. None of the children were there. With a brief thought to go to them, Wolf took a few steps, then halted. He turned and walked away.

  Before leaving the cemetery, Wolf sat in his car for a long while. The evening brightened the Western sky with color. The moon lifted and illuminated the headstones with cold white light.

  Gary was gone. Without Gary, Wolf could have been sent easily to prison. “Why?” he said. Wolf knew that he’d never, in his material reality, be able to mend his relationship with Gary. But there were other relationships to mend, other lives he could touch differently than he ever could before. Except possibly one—an important one: Joe’s. He might be locked from Joe’s life for a long while. He might never get in again.

  The drive back into the city proved long and arduous. Traffic blocked more passages than usual, resisted his every turn: a simple metaphor, he thought, for how blocked he had become to his own emotions. Time, though, would allow him to get through. No matter how slowly things changed, they did change. Wasn’t that the truth of life?

  Back at his apartment building, Wolf paused for a moment in the foyer to stare out the front window onto the street. A cab pulled up and a man holding an overnight case climbed out and paid the cabby. Eagerly, the man half-jogged up the steps and pushed into the building while Wolf stood to one side. As the man pulled his keys from his pocket an apartment door opened. Wolf watched as the man’s young wife stood in the doorway smiling. “Honey,” she said. In the background the tiny voice of a three-year-old screamed, “Daddy!” The man bent down and scooped up a little boy who hugged his neck with all his little strength. “We missed you.”

  When the woman looked past her husband into Wolf ’s eyes, he turned his head in embarrassment and walked towards the stairs that led to his apartment.

  The hollow sound of his own footsteps echoed in the stairwell. Wolf moved slowly to his floor, not in thought, but as empty-minded as possible. He opened the stairwell door, walked down the short hall and unlocked his apartment door. As he stepped inside, Wolf thought he saw movement and crouched in preparation for attack. He moved beyond the sofa to a position where he could see into the kitchen and his bedroom. Like a wolf, he moved quietly, stealthily through the apartment. When he had covered the terrain, he fell to his knees and shook his head.

  The adrenaline s
till pumped through him, turning from sharp awareness to emotional anxiety. The room seemed to cave in on him. He heard voices, felt movement all around him, yet kept his head lowered. Let it come, he thought, let it end this sorrow. But he was not so lucky as to get his wish.

  Alone, yet seeing things move out the corners of his eyes, hearing loud voices and banging noises, he concluded he was going crazy. Any support he had ever had, whether financial or emotional, was gone. Exhausted, he sat on the sofa, let his head fall back and fell asleep.

  By the time Wolf awoke, the apartment was completely dark. The voices and visions had subsided. He remembered no dreams. He had enjoyed several hours of peace. He waited for it all to begin again. Self-pity overwhelmed him. It was an emotion he had seldom let in before, and now it was one he wished to be rid of.

  Wolf stood and pulled off his shirt. His skin felt sweaty and clammy. His neck was stiff. How long can I live like this?, he wondered. He went into the kitchen, got a glass of water, and slugged down two multi-vitamins. He glanced at the wall clock: 2:17. He was lonely, and thought to call someone, but who was there to call?

  Wolf dressed in casual attire, then went out onto the New York streets for a long walk. The city, they say, never sleeps; yet at this hour it rested with many of its eyes closed. The streets were quiet, hard rivers of concrete at the bottom of deep, sterile canyons. Wolf thought briefly of Sharon. He had ended that relationship, hadn’t he? Then his mind turned to Julie, then Michael. He imagined Michael running to him like the little boy had run to his father in the foyer. The thought seemed out of place, contrived.

  With all that had happened, there was still very much missing from his life, very much that felt uncomfortable, not part of him. He wondered who he really was. For so many years he had nurtured only one self, but a second had appeared while he fasted in the mountains. Which was the real Wolf?

  Wolf heard a noise from far away, outside his own loud thoughts. He looked over to see a man in the alley, his back turned, dressed in soiled clothes. The bearded, long haired man was pissing into the corner. He turned, hearing Wolf pass by, and reached his hand back. “Got any change?” he said, still pissing.

  Wolf ignored him and heard the man yell as he passed. “Fuckin’ asshole. Can’t help your fellow man?”

  It was true, wasn’t it? Wolf couldn’t help his fellow man. It wasn’t only the bum in the alley that disgusted Wolf, it was most people. Wolf turned around and removed a twenty from his wallet. He walked back to the alley. The bum sat near the entrance to the street Wolf was on. The bum looked up. “I don’t want to be like this, you know?”

  Wolf handed him the twenty. “Neither do I,” he said.

  The man’s face lit up, but before he said anything, Wolf stopped him. “Let’s hope this puts us both on a better road.”

  “Let’s hope,” the man said.

  The rest of the night Wolf roamed the streets of New York. Before the break of day, a light mist began to fall, the cleansing of water. Wolf thought of the bum, then of his own life, and wondered briefly about how different they truly were. Neither of them appeared to have another person to rely on or to reach out to. Each, except for financial means, was equally impoverished. Without other human beings, what was there?

  A glow lifted behind the buildings and painted the canyon walls. Cold penetrated Wolf ’s damp clothing and he shivered. Looking up at a street sign, Wolf quickly oriented himself and turned in a direction that would lead him back to his apartment. No amount of money or job status could make a man feel loved, needed or trusted. In fact, in his own life, Wolf witnessed the opposite effects. Through his own arrogance, material things had actually robbed him of his more human needs. But he had allowed it.

  He needed to regroup, to center himself. Perhaps being alone, as he was, held the answer. And where better to be alone than at the cabin? He had keys. No one would be using it. Wolf decided to go, to face himself, then return.

  The thought of getting back to the woods, near nature excited him. He packed lightly, but enough for several days. He hauled the small duffel into the living room and dropped it near the front door. Mentally, he inventoried what else he ought to do: call Julie and Michael, just to let them know where he’d be. They’d had enough sorrow for one year, why add worry onto it?

  He checked the cabinets, too, and the refrigerator, and packed what food he thought he’d need. There was always a food mart on the way for whatever he may have forgotten. When he was packed, Wolf showered and shaved, then dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. He was ready.

  The mid-morning sunlight poured through the window and spread across the living room carpet, along the sofa, over the coffee table. The light was vivid, sparkling. Wolf sat for a moment to call Julie and Michael and instantly, as he relaxed into the sofa, felt his body tire. He dialed. “Julie, I didn’t expect you to pick up. I thought I’d get the machine.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you.”

  Wolf felt the sarcasm. “No,” he said, “I…uh…I just called to let you know I’m going away for a few days. To the cabin. To think.”

  “Now?”

  His mind had weakened. Fatigue dulled his reactions. “I know. I know. I was just letting you know.”

  “I know.” Julie sighed. “The funeral must have been difficult for you, too. I know you were there. I saw you.”

  “I had to be.” His voice cracked unexpectedly.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, yes, of course. I just called so no one would worry. I didn’t mean anything. Not that you’d worry, but...”

  “That’s okay, I understand. Thank you. So, while you’re on the phone would you like to speak to your son? He’s right here. It’s been a while since you’ve seen him. When do you...?”

  “Soon. When I get back. I promise.”

  “Don’t promise, Wolf, just don’t.”

  “Hi, Dad,” Michael said.

  “Hi, Buddy, what are you up to?”

  “Me and Sam, we went to the zoo and there was all these big, big animals. And there was monkeys and camels and big other ones, too.”

  Wolf laughed. “You had fun?”

  “Uh huh.”

  Wolf heard Julie coaxing him in the background. But Michael had his own agenda. “When are you coming to see me? Are you mad?”

  “No, no, I’m not mad. In a couple days. Really. I just need to go into the woods to think for a little while.”

  “Can I go?”

  “I’ll be over in a few days. I promise.”

  “You won’t,” he said.

  “I will, really. I told you I promised.”

  “He left,” Julie said, suddenly back on the line. “What’d you promise?”

  “To come over after I get back.”

  “You’ve promised things before. He’s a little boy. He doesn’t understand.”

  “I promise,” Wolf said quietly.

  “Don’t try to convince me, show me. Better yet, show your son. He misses you.”

  “He always talks about Sam,” Wolf said defensively.

  “He sees Sam.”

  Wolf gritted his teeth. “You’re right. Well, I’ll go. Please, tell him I love him.” Tears welled in Wolf ’s eyes, but he kept his voice calm and controlled.

  “I will,” Julie said. Then she hung up.

  Wolf wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and lowered the receiver to its cradle. He took a few deep breaths, then picked up his duffel to leave.

  He stopped for a large coffee just outside the city. It helped to perk him up a little, but the lack of sleep had his whole system feeling raw and jittery. He drove seventy miles an hour much of the way, then slowed down considerably once he got off the highway. The change in speed made him feel slow. Time itself decreased its pace and the even sound of tires over the road began to put him to sleep. Eventually, near the crest of a hill, he had to pull over.

  Rather than take a catnap, Wolf decided to walk around to wake himself up again. He could nap when he arrived at
the cabin. Leaving the car at the side of the road, Wolf walked a half a mile or so. A light breeze came out of the woods, cool and inviting. It smelled fresh when the rush of air from traffic wasn’t pushing by.

  A pickup truck stopped near him. “Trouble? Need a ride?” The driver leaned out the window, one elbow on the window ledge. He had a two-day beard and a few holes in his smile marked missing teeth. His right hand, resting at the twelve-o’clock position on the steering wheel, was black with grease stains.

  “No thanks,” Wolf said. “I just needed to walk a bit. I got tired.”

  “No problem,” the man said. “Careful drivin’.” He drove off. The fenders rattled as the truck pulled back onto the road. The pickup reminded Wolf of his ordeal in New Mexico. It seemed so long ago, yet it really hadn’t been. Wolf jogged part of the way to the car and walked the rest of the way when he got winded.

  Eventually, Wolf drove the car onto the dirt road that lead through the woods to the cabin. He parked and collected his gear. On the porch, he set his things down and fumbled through his keys. He unlocked and pushed the door open. A breeze pushed the smell of woods past him into the musty air of the cabin. He opened all the windows. It was getting late, but he wanted to get into the woods, if only for half an hour, before it got too dark. He was hungry and wanted to eat. He was tired and wanted to sleep. But, more than anything, he needed to be in the woods. They called to him, and he intended to answer that call first.

  Wolf let the door close behind him as he took the porch steps two at a time. He decided to climb the grade to the East field at the top of a small hill. It took ten minutes of difficult climbing up a steep incline. Holding to small trees and low-hanging branches, Wolf proceeded up the hill by using the strength in his arms as well as his legs. Like a swimmer uses all his muscles, Wolf did the same. The smell, the feel, the presence of the trees invigorated him. Adrenaline pushed through his veins, air rushed in and out of his chest in long, deep breaths. When he broke from the woods, he saw three deer at the far end of the field. They stood in the twilight, heads up, staring at him. He stopped walking, but continued to breath deeply. When he moved further into the field, all three deer faded into the woods. It was too dark to see if they had moved away or stood just inside, still watching to see what he was about to do.