Frozen skies

It's cold. And wet.

I know. I know. It's a stupid thing to say in the middle of a frozen winter wonderland. Whatever.

The hardness of the ice.

All this clothing makes me so heavy. I can barely move.

I do love that the skies seem to be bluer that the blue skies of summer. As if the cold brings out the frigidness of the color even more. Even the clouds fade a little. Lost in the bright blue.

The stars are nice and bright, too. I can even count each bright sparkle. Each. And. Every. Sparkle.

I catch myself often bitching about the winter but it is actually a good time of the year. Everything is so white. So quiet. Even the birds don't chirp so loud. You even hear the crunch of snow when walking. Distant sounds that you never hear at other times, seem so close. The St. Thomas Church bells, all the way at the end of town. Sometimes, I swear, I hear the rumble of the big trucks on the interstate.

And the days. Oh my, the days merge into one another. The white of the snow covers all the colors and ground. The trees are bare. the grass is brown. The view doesn't change to show the passing of time. Only the sun. the rays through the trees. Coloring the blue sky almost pure white. then the yellow and orange of the sunset. But it stays cold. It stays wet.

Living at the family farm, so far from "civilization" is a drag. You can't break the monotony of the never ending chores. Its always the same every day. It's always the same faces. The same conversations. The same food. The same in the house. The same. The same. The same.

Only my music player seems to break the routine. But even then begins to repeat. I think the only difference is that I have my favorites. A loved song comes on and there I am, dancing among the goats. Singing to the chickens trying not to get pecked in their brooding time. My jeans have a wear on my back pocket where it remains. Forever.

It's also so alone. Walking by the pond, there are times I feel like I'm the only person in the whole world. It's there where I daydream. It's there where I can sing loudly and joyfully. No brothers to caterwauler and make fun of me. No parent shushing me and yelling at me to do some stupid chore or clean my room. I do have to admit, and there is no shame in it, I've been know to startle the crows and birds in the trees when I get a little to "enthusiastic". My mus8ic, well, I don't get tired of those songs that I love. Still, I wouldn't mind some company now and again.

I didn't hear them approach and I am, as usual, lot in my musings. Lost in the melodious sound of the Beatles and their Magical Mystery Tour in my head. It's not like i expected anyone down these parts, anyway. It's the sound of their boisterous talking and the occasional laughter that breaks the stone silence.

"There! do you see it? In the pond?"

"You're full of shit, Mike. there is nothing there. I go my here all the time."

"I'm tell you, Duane. It's. Right. There."

" I don't see nothing. Come on, let's go. I'm getting cold. My sneakers aren't made for all this snow."

I see Mike run to the edge of the pond and point to something along the shoreline.

"Right there, dude!" You can see it if you come over here."

Duane saunters up to the frozen pond trying to avoid getting even wetter by the slightly melted waters edge. "Where?"

As he looks down to the pond, our eyes meet. His cold blue ones to my hazed brown. Neither of us blinked.

"Aw, geez Christ! What the fuck!?", he yells as he takes a long startled jump back. "You knew about this? And you didn't say nothin'!? What the fuck is wrong with you, ya turd!?"

"What!? What if they blame me? I didn't do anything. I saw it and went to get you."

"You call the sheriff! You call somebody! What the hell'd you get me for!?" Duane turned from Mike, unzipping his jacket. Searching for a grip.

Mike walks up to him. "I didn't know what to do. It's not like I find dead bodies all the time, ya know. I used to have crush on her when I was a kid. I liked her hair." He says, looking over at me. "Do you think it as an accident? You thing someone killed her? A murder here!?"

"Now look what I have to do. You should have just left everything alone. What a mess, Mikey. What a mess."

"You know what to do now, right Duane? We can both report it. they can't blame us if we say we found it like this, right?" Mikey asked, looking at me with sad eyes.

I see a silver glint in the sun. Then that metal glint disappears into Mike's quilted jacket.

The wide-eyed look. The gaping mouth. He's just as surprised as I was. I didn't know Mikey liked me.

Twisting the knife, right then left. Just like he did with me.

"How could you do this to me? My best friend?!" Duane whispered so very close to Mikey's pale face.

Mikey's final words named his murder. "Duane? Wha-? Duane."

The body fell to the ground. Duane grabbed a booted foot and began to drag it away. I lost sight of them and I could see was the sky again. That icy blue sky.

A crow flew across the pond. A passing shadow. Its caw reached my ear. I heard the crack of the ice as it broke. The splash of the water.

I swayed up and down with the cold water and I bumped the frozen ice on the pond. I guess I have company.