Secret Seeds Never Planted

⚡DAYS 1-3

Procrastination, procrastination, procrastination.

⚡DAY 4

I dreaded it.

I had no desire to face my family history.

Everyone's dead.

I'm the last of our clan.

My dad disappeared when I was a teenager.

Howard died of a drug overdose.

Mama passed away because of breast cancer.

I was a rotten brother to Howard.

I was a horrible son.

I realized it wasn't even the memories that I feared...

or cleaning a garage that was likely filthy.

Spiders were bad enough. If I came across a snake, or a rat, I'd probably quit and burn the house down.

Yeah, right. Like I could afford to live anywhere else.

It felt like a sin that I'd left this undone for so long.

Rather than dealing with this, I'd almost prefer to stab myself in the foot with a butcher knife.

Almost.

But Cardi wanted to move in when her lease was up in December. She'd already slept over bunches of times.

We were great together in bed.

I couldn't wait to cuddle up next to her every night.

She never said much about the door. I had explained to her what was waiting for me behind it. But she always raised an eyebrow when I said I still wasn't prepared to unlock that lock.

She told me that she wanted to park her car in the garage this winter.

I couldn't blame her.

I hate the cold.

I really didn't have any choice but to get busy, for the sake of the only meaningful relationship I had left.

But I procrastinated yet again, that whole 4th day, drinking too much whiskey.

It was like I had to build up my courage.

Finally, after dark, I decided to at least break the seal...

to assess the situation.

My body churned with chaotic energy, thrumming in my heart, my head, my blood, my bones. My hair roiled with static electricity.

With no inkling of what to expect, I opened the door.

How it happened, I'll never know. It must have been some electrical... something... but it really freaked me out.

As I opened the door, the overhead light came on.

I never touched the switch. At first, I didn't even know where the switch was!

The long fluorescent bulb shimmered dimly for at least a minute, while I just stood there watching breathlessly.

Then it stopped.

It must have been some electrical short. That's the only thing I could figure.

Stepping over the threshold, the odor hit me in the face like a dust mop.

It was, like, the smell of Age Itself.

Is that what 'musty' means: 'mold mixed with dust'?

At least it wasn't rancid.

I used my cellphone flashlight to locate the light switch, but I when I turned it on, it only lit the back part of garage where I'd entered.

What I saw was a disaster.

The garage was packed.

I scowled, winced, grimaced, and sulked all at the same time.

Straightening this situation out was going to be a bitch.

Boxes, baskets, clothes, tools, fishing poles, vinyl record albums, a weed wacker, a lawn mower, birdhouses, boxes and boxes of old CDs. Plastic totes stuffed to the brim, some filled with Christmas decorations.

I recognized the little bench that my grandma gave us when Howard and I were kids.

There was a freaking crock pot sitting on a low shelf next to a bunch of old rusty paint cans.

Then I saw the Wheaties boxes.

Those were old, right? Like... a limited series or something?

Were those things possibly worth money?

Looking the other way through the shadows, I saw a desk and an antique dresser that I also thought were valuable.

If I'd ever suspected that I might make some cash doing this, I would gotten motivated years ago.

I nodded. "I'll start tomorrow."

As I turned to go back into the kitchen, I noticed a bumper sticker on that putrid orange cabinet.

What the hell was that?

Why was 'normal' misspelled?

And the American flag?

Neither mom or Howard were political.

I went inside, closed the door, and poured some J.D.. Later, when I went to sleep, I hoped to dream of dollar signs (instead of dead loved ones.)

⚡DAY 5

I opened the garage door at the end of my driveway.

The door was rusted.

Raising it was a bitch.

Once I had some disposable income, I planned to buy an automatic garage door opener.

The old one didn't work anymore.

I felt overwhelmed.

And discouraged.

At least I had been able to take off work to complete this ugly mission.

Not how I wanted to spend my 'vacation' though.

Fuck me for outliving everyone other else.

⚡DAYS 6-9

Even after filling about nearly a dozen trash bags, I'd barely scratched the surface.

What the hell was my mother thinking keeping all this shit?!?

That antique wooden dresser thing-- I didn't even know what to call it.

It was basically, like, a coat closet.

It was dirty and stained but it still had to be worth something to somebody, right?

If I called an antique shop, they'd want to make a profit on it and rip me off.

Facebook Marketplace maybe?

I didn't even know how to assess its value.

I decided to deal with it when I finished the job.

Autumn was falling fast.

⚡DAY 10

Thunderstorm.

Went over to Cardi's place.

Took Joey with me so I could spend the night.

It was really chilly.

Cardi kept me warm.

⚡DAYS 11-16

Day after day constantly hauling shit out to the curb........

⚡DAY 17

Windy as hell.

I hate the cold.

⚡DAY 18

I started my day finding totes containing all kinds of outdated technology.

I couldn't believe how much things had changed since my parents were kids.

And it was like those very thoughts led me to the box of old photographs.

That was me, at the top of the stack.

I hadn't seen my childhood pictures in decades.

Was I ever that young?

Then I saw the photograph that made me weep.

My little brother, Howie...

and me.

How old were we in that picture?

If it wasn't heart-wrenching enough, I then found my mother's baby pictures next.

I always thought I took after my mom...

and Howie looked like dad.

I stopped breathing when I then found my parents' wedding photo!

I totally lost it.

I bawled like a baby.

I aborted my mission for the day.

I had never seen that photograph before.

And the next day, there were more.

⚡DAY 19

There they were again (in whatever kind of car that was).

Did people actually put a sheet on their car saying "Just Married"?

How weird is that!

Next, I found my high school diploma.

Then I came across so many more photos of my brother.

I wanted to die.

Was doing all this even worth it?

Would Cardi and I even last?

I was bleak.

I kept bursting into tears.

"Oh, Howie.... forgive me."

⚡DAYS 20-24

I couldn't continue cleaning.

I snuggled in my bed with Joey.

A dire dilemma circled my mind like a vulture waiting for my brains to die.

What should I do with my old family photographs?

Everyone was dead.

I had no heirs.

I never would.

That meant there was no one to pass them down to.

They were meaningless to anyone but me.

Basically, they were JUNK too... but the idea of pitching them was depressing.

I hid away with my dog.

⚡DAY 25

I woke up to a warm sunny day.

I felt vacant.

A person can only mourn so long.

When I went back to my mission, I was delighted to find something that made me laugh.

Porn.

That had to have been Howard's.

Not more than an hour later, I found an entire box heavy with it.

This time, I didn't chuckle. Something about this didn't seem right to me.

Then I found the box that would change everything.

On the outside of it, written in my mother's handwriting was a warning.

DEXTER'S.

Do NOT open!

THROW AWAY!!!

Dexter was my father's name.

My mother had told me there was nothing left of my dad's possessions.

Why would she keep a box that she determined was JUNK?

Disturbed, I set it aside.

I kept working.

I streamed music through my phone.

I rolled trash cans into the garage to make disposal easier.

I couldn't stop thinking about that box that mama labeled as my daddy's.

I had to open it.

I trembled.

I pulled off the tape and opened the flaps.

At the top was an old newspaper reporting on John Lennon being murdered.

And there was yet another wedding picture!

Who was that little boy???

I recoiled.

Was that my father?

I shook my head, unable to fit these new images into the old frames in my head.

Rifling through yellowed newspapers, I found the seeds.

I was dumbfounded.

Why would mom store her tomato seeds in this box?

She never grew anything else. Only tomatoes.

I started wondering if she was senile.

Out of the blue, something clicked in my head.

I was like, "No way!"

I looked again at that red, white, and blue sticker.

I googled it.

And there it was....

The seeds!

They weren't tomato seeds!

They were marijuana seeds!

I knew my brother smoked hemp, but never any with seeds.

I used to hit a joint every once in a while, back in college, but again-- only sinsemilla.

I remember hearing somewhere that old-timers used to use double record albums to roll seeds out of brown "dirt weed".

Did these seeds belong to my father?

I thought again about the magazines.

Those couldn't have been my brother's. They were too old.

Who even bought magazines anymore, when you could see hardcore smut on the Internet?

Those Playboys and Penthouses were also my dad's.

Then I uncovered an unfathomable revelation.

Hot shots?

First Hand??

Options???

With men kissing on the cover?!?

No fucking way.

I carried the box inside.

Part of me didn't even want to touch that stuff. It smelled especially musty.

I drank straight from my bottle of Jack Daniels.

Finally, I took out those ridiculously little 'books'.

I couldn't bring myself to actually open any of them. I had no desire to see gay guys making out... or doing... other stuff.

I spread them out on the floor, only to stare at them.

The one entitled Coming Out couldn't be more telling, could it?

Showering with Coach

SF Stripper bares for buddy

Pecker patrol???

Is that what dicks used to be called?

Peckers???

That was a new one on me.

I saw that those Options told bisexual stories.

Was my father bi?

This was surreal.

Then I found the drawing!

I had no clue who that man was.

I flipped the drawing over.

On the back was written

I'm not much of an artist but you know what I'm really good at!

Love, 4ever,

Dex

My eyes were as big as saucers.

I'm not biased. I champion the underdog. I had a couple of dear friends who were gay, before they moved to Portland and we lost touch.

Nobody can select their sexual preference, anymore than they can choose what their favorite food is, or their favorite color.

But my father was into men?

Was that the secret that destroyed mom and dad's marriage?

Did she find this stuff by accident?

I still couldn't fathom why she'd keep it!

I drank myself into a stupor.

⚡DAYS 26-27

Hungover avoidance.

Irritable with Joey.

I feel bad about that.

⚡DAY 28

Another discouraging day.

The furniture I thought might be worth money-- it was all rotten and moldy on the inside. The desk wasn't sturdy.

The appliances didn't work; I had to pay someone to have those hauled away.

I didn't even care anymore about what had value.

I just wanted everything gone.

Meanwhile, that box with Options in it still contained more secrets. It sat in my spare bedroom, seeming to call to me every night as I went to sleep.

Two days later was⚡DAY 30, exactly one month since I first opened that door. Awakening at 3 am, I couldn't go back to sleep.

I shambled across the hall to the spare bedroom, as if the box was pulling me with its own gravity

I took out the drawing my father had done of some unknown (lover?) man, discovering something truly bizarre.

If I wasn't so drained, I probably would have laughed.

Did my dad actually think this nonsense was real?

I'd never heard of The World Weekly News...

and there were more.

I just shook my head, muttering, "Whoever wrote those scrolls was a piss-poor prognosticator."

A second Great Depression?

Did I sleep through that?

I could only afford Taco Bell most nights but I wasn't penniless.

Suddenly, I wondered if I could find someone who sold cannabis. But I wouldn't have a clue where to start. It was still illegal in this ass-backward state.

I nearly had the rest of that box emptied and nothing more had triggered me.

But at the very bottom, I found the smaller box. It had originally contained Tarot cards.

WTF???

Did my father actually believe in that craziness?

It disarmed me. I didn't properly steel myself before I opened it.

A pipe with skulls on it. Pipe cleaners. Screens. A lighter.

CANNABIS!

A tiny dream catcher. A Saint Christopher's metal on a chain.

Most surprising of all was the bracelet with two connected hearts that said, Love.

I took out the pipe, stuck a new screen in it, and loaded it with the marijuana.

It smelled like skunk.

For an instant, I worried about the age of it-- like it might be contaminated or something.

Then, shaking off that silly concern, I proceeded to get super high, coughing my ass off.

The buzz gave me the munchies.

I went to microwave lunch.

I decided to keep the smoke... but the rest of the shit in that box was going in the trash.

As I took the drug paraphernalia out, I saw the little note.

I just stood there.

I knew I shouldn't read it.

I knew it.

But I couldn't help myself.

It read

Don't get too stoned without me!

We'll be together soon!!!

143

Dex

It was days later that I figured out 143 = I love you.

I was done.

The garage was done...

and so were my torments.

Exactly 30 days to finish it all.

It felt more like 30 years.

⚡___________________⚡

That next weekend was Thanksgiving. Since I have nobody to celebrate with, Cardi invited me to her family feast.

It was awkward.

I don't know why.

⚡___________________⚡

I began thinking about trying to track my father down. For a little while, I had obsessive thoughts who dad had drawn (and loved.)

Mom had old acquaintances out west that were still alive. I wouldn't be surprised if they also knew my dad.

But what would contacting them accomplish?

What if I called them up on video chat, showed them the drawing, and they did know who my father's 'friend' was?

That thought totally unnerved me.

Because what if I could track him down?

What then?

And,

Oh My God! what if by finding his 'friend', I find my dad!!!

What then!?!

Would I want to ask him why he abandoned us?

No way in hell.

He had walked away from us (me!) without even saying goodbye.

I trashed that box.

I even threw away the pipe and weed.

I burned the photographs and that revolting drawing.

As far as I was concerned, my father was a traitor.

I never wanted to think about that 'pecker' (DICK!) ever again.

⚡___________________⚡

Freezing weather came early that year, three days after Thanksgiving.

I was cold.

Tomorrow, Cardi and I would start moving her stuff in.

Besides my other accomplishment, I'd also cleaned out a closet for her.

I'm ready to start the next chapter of my life.

⚡___________________⚡

⚡The next Day

I woke up to discover it snowed last night!

Joey loved it. He bounded around excitedly, acting like he was chasing snow-squirrels that only he could see.

I hate the cold.

When I brought Joey back inside, he sat beside me, wagging his wet tail, while I drank steaming hot coffee.

Out of nowhere, I remembered that stuttering fluorescent light that came on when I first opened that door.

Was that some ghost?

I didn't believe in ghosts.

Regardless, I was ready to exorcise all the old phantoms, especially those haunting me with guilt and shame.

Everyone had their failings.

And everyone kept secrets.

All the many, many questions I'd asked when making discovery after stunning discovery in that garage...

I let them go.

I didn't want need to know the answers.

I wept quietly one last time, then brushed away my tears.

It was time to move on.

⚡___________________⚡

Cardi and I almost waited another couple days to start moving her stuff in. The forecast said warmer weather was predicted later in the week.

But we were both too eager.

Bundling up, I went outside to salt the driveway.

I parked my car on the street so she could drive straight into the garage (which was actually a garage again, not a vault of bitter memories.)

When she arrived, we hugged.

She kissed me.

I teased her. "You didn't think I'd get it done before winter, did you?"

She replied, "Well, it did snow last night, in case you didn't notice."

"True. But winter doesn't officially begin until December the 21st."

She avoided responding to that too. Instead, seeing the dolly I forgot to take back inside, she wondered, "Was it hard work?" She poked me. "Did you strain your little muscles?"

"You have no idea," I said.

I never explained that the backbreaking task was nothing compared to the lingering heartache.

~

___________________Bolt⚡