This Whole Thing

1.

What am I doing here? At church, school, even at home he wondered this. A wondering that soon molded into annoyance and now, at work, this question peered out through his dull eyes.

Look at these people he thought. They have no idea what they’re doing here either. Yeah, getting groceries, sending money orders, but what are they really doing? Sleeping in their sleep and dreaming. Forcing smiles of social lubricant.

“How are you today?” we ask as a formality.

"Alright" invariably the answer is, a lie we tell each other and ourselves every day. I’d rather hear, “Horrible, I haven’t a clue what’s going on” and then perhaps we’d get somewhere. Who has courage for that though? What a joke this whole thing is.

“Please bag my fruits with my fruits young man. How much is it? Oh I see- here” and the old man discarded money indifferently onto the counter beside his outstretched hand. $7.50 an hour he thought.

Seven fucking fifty.

He finalized the transaction and handing the change to the customer replied, “Have a blessed day sir.”

In two hours he’d be on his hands and knees wiping the underside of the men’s urinal. In three he’d be on break eating a lifeless packaged snack in a lifeless packaged break room with other lifeless packaged eyes. In five he’d be outside collecting carts, picking up trash, and deciding whether or not he’d want a cigarette.

And all the while he’d be wondering, “What am I doing here?”

2.

The night air was chill and the wind was not there and the only sound was the shuffling of his shoes against the coarse sidewalk. The street lamps threw long eerie shadows- short and dense at first then long and faded then gone. He walked slowly. He felt no rush to hurry home. Home to what? Soon enough he saw more illusions and his envy sickened him. Ecstatic families leaving the movie theater. Couples, hand in hand, showing off each other. A drunk melting into the alley pavement, a cigarette wasting away with him. Blissful ignorance. Where dreams come true. Where relationships flowered. Where one can numb himself to life’s pain. Where one works to live and lives for reasons he himself is unsure. How I wish I never become like them. Persistent to attain their misty castle in the clouds. Acquiring and dominating, cunning, ruthless, coy, flirtatious, joyful, laughing. Each short lived.

Beside a creek, under a tree, he sat and extracted the cigarette he didn’t smoke on break. After two drags he snubbed it out in the tree mulch. He looked up to the moon through scattered leaves, its golden halo a faded disc of wordless delight.

What am I doing?

What is it that I’m doing?

No answer came. Diaphanous clouds slid in front of this golden moon and the land grew darker.

After some time he stood up and approached the creek. He looked painfully into its black rippling current, threw a small twig, and watched it float recklessly away. He sighed deeply and began his walk back home avoiding the streetlights, avoiding the sidewalks, avoiding anything familiar.

3.

He woke up from a dreamless sleep and stared at the ceiling. For minutes he stared. Upon hearing no answer he stood up and puttered around his shabby apartment. Just looking around indolently. No answer there either.

He turned on the TV. He turned off the TV.

Outside, life was moving its monotonous procedure. Garbage men doing their garbage thing. Construction men doing their construction thing. The sunrise, blasting a polished orange, strained and split through the horizon clouds. He was about to ask but instead closed the curtains. He stood at one corner of the apartment and looked at its contents as if for the first time. Things he said. Things and he laughed mockingly. He saw each thing and remembered where it came from. He remembered being a kid and the adrenaline from getting gifts. He laughed again and looked down at his feet. He then left the apartment and the things remained behind, dejected and scorned.

4.

He didn’t have a destination. He simply walked. The morning was beautiful but there were lots of beautiful mornings and to him even the most dreary-drenched held mystic allure. This is what he thought on his way nowhere. He remembered a time in New York City where every woman he saw was gorgeous and in this way, none of them were. There was also a time, he remembered, when he saw a homeless old lady feeding her tiny chihuahua and as he passed her she looked up and her eyes held that contagious sparkle.

He entered a coffee shop not wanting coffee but got one anyway and loaded it with cream and sugar. He sat at the windowsill observing life, eaves dropping on nearby conversations. Across the street, on a golden lawn, he saw a group of pregnant ladies practicing yoga. He saw a police officer tucked away in the shadows detecting speeders. He saw a sign spinner perform his disorienting act. Conversations drifted in and out of his awareness.

How can we better strategize the markets Tom?

I told you not to go to bed without eating baby...

Oh she’s doing great! Second in her class but it’s just a matter of time for my little genius...

He exhaled deeply through his nose.

A group of very pretty college ladies sat in his view. He gazed evenly on them, admiring their glow, and they, charmed by this, flipped their hair and shot sideways glances among trivial, yet apparently the most fascinating and lively, conversation. Bored, he then stood up and left and the conversation lowered in volume and they sat secretly questioning their beauty until another man would walk by and, with a single glimpse, reinvigorate their self-esteem.

5.

His feet took him to a nearby underpass where an abandoned railroad was smothered in shrubs and weeds. He tossed a few rocks around, noticed an empty 40oz bottle, and first try gave the silent tunnel a shattering echo.

“Hey!” a caveman yelled appearing from behind wooden crates draped in wool blankets, “What are you doing here?!”

“I don’t know”

“You don’t live here...”

“No...you live here?”

“Barely” the caveman replied and on sensing the young mans’ nonthreatening nature asked, “Can you spare anything?”

“Sure, got some loose change.”

“Loose or tight, any cents helps a person with no sense” and he burst into laughter from his own joke, “God bless you.”

“You lived here long?”

“Uhh, been bout 5 years come this winter...was in Tallahassee – thirsty?”

“Sure” and he accepted a warm beer, “the winters are real cold huh?”

“’Spose so, cops don’t like the fires”

“They don’t mind you being here?”

“They look away like everyone else” the caveman said plopping down onto his dirt and cardboard mattress, “We gave them our service and they gave us nothin in return – nothin.”

“Vietnam?”

The caveman grunted and then took a huge chug that only experience can demonstrate.

“What was it like back then?”

“You had to been ‘live to understan'. Guess its jus’ bout same now. Not much changes if yah think bout it.” And the young man felt a kinship from these words.

The caveman then said, “Take a seat”

An uneasiness suddenly came over him, “I’m alright, thank you, I gotta go”

“Welp, come back anytime young man. It can be lonely here. Guess thaz why theres beer”

“You don’t leave here?”

“I’m used up son. I haven’t anything to give. They don’t want me" and he tossed his empty beer can over his shoulder.

“They?”

And the caveman motioned a huge arc.

6.

Out from under the bridge it had begun to sprinkle and after a while heavy showers fell and since he was now near the town center he found an awning to take shelter. He never really noticed the many advertisements plastered everywhere, their colors and patterns fighting and begging for attention. How desperate he thought.

The rain stopped and several birds came near and played in a puddle. Not drinking, not bathing, but playing. And he watched, smiling, and the sun unshielded, produced a soft white aureole around each one.

There’s something here he thought. So he sat there trying to dissect it and as he sat there, discerning and investigating, the charm and luster faded and a bird flew off followed by the others. Coming out of thought a large semi-truck then rumbled and roared by bashing the puddle trailing dripping oil.

“What are you doing young man?” the owner of the awning appeared.

“I don’t know – nothing”

“You gonna buy something?”

He looked up to take in the toy store and his disinterest was palpable.

“No loitering then” the owner finalized with locked stern eyes.

So he turned and walked away and the owner stayed and watched him and wondered what had bothered him so much about the young man. His phone then rang wildly and this wondering flitted away into the careless past.

7.

The day continued on and the sun made its usual arc and life on the street carried out its usual agenda. An ambulance wailed by screaming and bouncing her pain off cloistered buildings. A local resident stood bickering at his doorstep with the mailman.

“Then fix your mailbox sir”

“I told you I haven’t the time. Could you please just leave the mail by my door?”

“And throw off my route? Fix your mailbox sir”

He then found himself sitting in the shade of a plaza surrounded by a plethora of fine eateries. He lit a cigarette, took a couple drags, and snubbed it out. Seeing all the restaurants made him realize he hadn’t eaten all day. He didn’t feel like it. So he wouldn’t.

He looked at families dining together on the outdoor patios. The kids slowly collapsing in extreme boredom and the parents, moment by moment, reassessing and strategizing their battle plan of social acceptance and dominance. A group of young men dressed in finely pressed suits sharing lunch beers sitting wide-legged, slouched with arms spread open, sunglasses and smiling, each looking past one another so as not to appear too fully engrossed, and therefore surrendered, in conversation. An elderly couple just, well, just sitting there. He felt sad looking at all this.

They’re not even aware they don’t know what they’re doing. And they, the families and group of men, felt eyes on them from the shade a distance away and became self-conscious and wooden. Knowing his cue he stood into the sunlight to leave and was suddenly approached by a young lady holding a tablet and wearing an innocent smile.

“You look like someone who loves kids!” she said with a bright large grin.

“Looks can be deceiving”

She smiled a perfect toothpaste commercial smile, “And would I be wrong in assuming you’re enjoying this beautiful day just as much as me?”

“Maybe not as much”

She laughed humbly, “I do set the bar high. You have children?”

“I don’t”

“Did you know that 1 in 5 children will not eat today?”

“I did not”

“Well with your help you can feed them” and with a perfected swoop the tablet and herself was by his side commanding attention, “With a small monthly contribution of $29.99 you can feed and help keep alive all unfortunate souls who – sir – sir, it’s not asking that much –less than the cost of a cup of coffee per day…”

But he was already 20 steps away and she let him go, fully practiced with rejection, and confident she’d make her quota regardless.

8.

So he carried on, his feet taking him wherever and mind thinking whatever. He wondered what time it was but he really didn’t care. The sun told him it was day and so – it was daytime. Above him a flock of blackbirds soared in dark waves of perfect unison. An instinctual grace. We are losing something he thought. Or is it already lost? Did we ever even have it?

“There’s nothing new under the sun” he remembered hearing in church – or was it English class? He said aloud, “There’s nothing new under the sun”. Perhaps there’s something to those old books but, then again, how much can a book really tell you?

9.

After some time he felt exhausted. He was now on the outskirts of town and near him was an ancient graveyard, bordered by thick stone walls and the lettering of the tombstones eroded away. Tall dense maple trees provided a translucent green roof and beams of light lit patches of carpeted grass ablaze. He was in awe and a newfound energy welled up inside him. He climbed over the wall and meandered aimlessly.

Look at all this death he thought. They know what’s really happening. They are at peace. They've striven and struggled just like all of us and now they see the silliness of it all. What a joke. What a god damn joke we are, this is.

He thought of the tall bridge over the interstate. He thought of the .22 in the pawn shop. He thought of the sturdy high beam that whispered to him at night, “A telephone wire, shoot, even a belt, you don’t need a rope.” And he looked up to the sun, the wind shaken leaves flickering and allowing fragments of brilliance to cross his face.

I won’t ask anymore, he said, even though you hear me.

His head dropped in his hands and closed his eyes.

I know you hear me.

He lied down beside a tree and rested his head on a moss padded root.

“I give up” and he fell asleep.

“Hey!” a voice startled him awake, “Hey, what are you doing here?”

“I don’t know – nothing” he had to remember where he was, “I fell asleep”

“Well you can’t be on graveyard property after dusk…”

“I’m sorry, I’ll get on my way”

“Ok then…wait a second, do I know you?”

“I’m not sure, would you mind taking the flashlight out of my eyes?”

The light beam dropped to the ground bouncing menacing light on their faces.

The caretaker then said, “Yes yes, I know you”

“You do?”

“Sure...you're nobody”

He stood puzzled.

“Oh, don’t feel so bad. And don’t worry either, we’re all nobodies” and the moon light blasted through the trees illuminating all the freshly inscribed tombstones –

‘Nobody Died Here

Born - Doesn’t Matter

Died – Who Cares'

Another one, ‘Nobody Misses You – Love, No One”.

And each one he read sent a deep ominous laughter to the caretaker.

He approached him in anger, “Who the fuck are you?!” and delivered a haymaker swing that went right through the ghost.

A crash of thunder jolted him awake. He looked around for the caretaker. In the gray gunmetal twilight he saw the tombstones were once again faded and eroded. His body was sweating and mosquitoes began to buzz nearby. Lightning flashed. Thunder exploded. He stood up and left the ancient graveyard.

A caretaker could arrive anytime.

10.

His feet carried him quickly now. On his way somewhere he cut through some yards. Dogs howled their alarm, wind thrashed throughout the trees, chimes resounded angrily in the distance, and the moon was smothered by the encroaching storm. He was finally brought to a familiar Victorian home. He walked up the porch stairs and peered inside the glowing living room. She was there reading a romance novel covered by a thin cotton blanket. She looked up and her eyes sparkled.

“Daniel!” and she came out onto the front porch, “What are you doing honey?”

“Nothin really – I don’t know – didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“Oh get out of here with that! How you been? Come in, come in, you hungry?”

“No, not so much”

“Well you’re eating anyway – you look hungry and I just made the most delicious chili. Go ahead, take a seat – let me fix yah up somethin.”

He entered the kitchen and took a seat. A chandelier bounced warm soft light off the hazel walls and the aroma of chili drifted and dominated the room. He looked over to her preparing food, the oven light giving her graying hair a whispery halo.

“I was thinkin of yah the other day. I was eating a powdered donut and got to laughin so hard” she said placing a bowl of chili and a slab of cornbread on the table, “Remember when you put so much of the white donut powder stuff up and around your nose pretending to look like a coke head that your eyes began to water and went on a sneeze fit for an hour?”

He laughed in remembrance, “Customers didn’t know what to think”

“No they did not!” she said giggling, “Go ahead, eat up” and sat back in admiring calm, “You always knew how to make me laugh.”

“Cause you’re the best manager there ever was and I’ll speak for the future and add, ever will be.”

“Ohhhh” and she blushed a little, “How is it?”

“Very good, when can I move in?”

“Anytime hun” she said with a wink and got up to close the windows.

“You really love those romance novels huh?”

“Oh yes. I know they’re silly but I love em’ all the same. It’s my escape.”

He was silent from the honesty and looking around the room said, “Your home is as beautiful as I remember”.

“This thing? Fallin apart moment by moment. Damn railing to the upstairs is impossible to fix. I try to keep it as nice as I can though.”

He nodded.

She continued, “Try not to ever have a landlord if you can” and she shook her head, “Anyway, I think I’ll have a cup of coffee. Want some water, milk?”

“No thanks, this is perfect”

“Milk it is”

The rain finally came, heavy and thick pounding at first but then settled into calm showers.

“Thank you for the delicious chili”

“Of course dear. Come, let’s sit outside and watch the rain.”

They sat on plush wicker rocking chairs watching the rain. The streetlights reflected orange diamonds off puddles and every now and then a slight breeze lifted the rich odor of damp soil and steamed pavement.

She looked over and saw his eyes, heavy and vacant.

“So how are you?” she asked.

He came back to the present, “Oh, I don’t know”.

He looked over to her, the eyes patient and warm and inviting.

“I just don’t get it” he continued, “I have no idea what I’m doing and this whole thing” motioning a huge arc, “it’s just a bad joke yah know.”

She nodded.

“Everyone’s faking it” he admitted, “They don’t see that none of this matters. They think it actually matters and so I’m the crazy one” he looked down and the rain and wind slowed a little more lowering its volume as if to listen, “I was happy once like them” he said speaking to the floor, “and I want to go back…but I can’t”

“What do you want?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Nothin really. Nothin this world can give me.”

She nodded again and looked out into the rain.

He asked, “What did you want at my age?”

“Gosh, let’s see” she said looking off to recapture the memories, “That must’ve been 78’ or 79’, long time ago – I just had Jacob and I believe it was around the time my mother became really ill. A lot going on. Now that I think of it there wasn’t time for what I wanted. Arthur, doing his long hauls, was hardly around so I had to manage the home alone. They were testing times, the hardest of times, and Daniel, I held grudges on Arthur for cheating on me, and I cursed the world for taking Jacob away from me but they also showed me something.”

He waited.

“There are no easy answers… and this whole thing” she said motioning a huge arc, “well, maybe its design, maybe its purpose, is to let it go…to let it be”

She looked over and saw his head down, elbows resting on his knees with limp hands.

“I know you’re in a lot of pain son. Your eyes have opened. The hate, deceit, lies, and also the beauty, charm, and magic. It all hits you and nothing gets by. You want the world to see what you see – how easy it could be to bring peace on earth with some of your ideas” and he looked up and saw her with a knowing smile, “And if, and only if, your heart guides you to change the world then so be it. Anything’s possible dear. But the world can be a very stubborn place so don’t expect a ready audience. The only true change is inside you Daniel. This is where the angels and demons really are. The only true conflict worth settling. It’s that change that changes the world, at least, that’s my theory.”

The rain had finally stopped and the trees, the railings, the mailboxes and vehicles, they all let tears slide off them. The clouds dispersed and the moon returned her dusty scarred pearl into the sky.

He said, “I don’t wanna change the world. I want nothing to do with it.”

She nodded, “Yes, I suppose you could disappear if you wanted to – off into the woods, become a monk maybe – and some find answers from that experience – others, insanity. You could numb yourself in poisons or throw yourself into a 6 foot ditch but the pain will always be there waiting to be confronted. There’s only really one thing you must keep doing – and that’s keep going.”

“It’s hard to keep going without any care of a destination”

“What do you love Daniel?”

“Huh?”

“What do you love?”

“I love lots of things. I love the unexplainable. The mysterious subtleness of music. The harmony between light and shadow. The laughter of a woman. Watching the wind and surrendering to the unknown.”

He looked over and saw her with an admiring smile.

“You know” she said, “You have got quite a poetic flair. That could lead somewhere”

“Yea, maybe...”

He paused then said, “I feel as though the world is going one way and I’m going the other and the loneliness can become so unbearable, so crushing that I’ll often turn to the ways of the world. Its either slavery with company or freedom with loneliness” his face then became flushed, head heavy, and eyes glistened with moisture, “I really don’t know how much more I can take…” his heart beat with deep thuds and hands began quivering, “This whole fucking thing – I don’t belong”.

Without knowing he found his head collapsed on her chest and tears and sobs and convulsions released within her circled arms. She rested her cheek on top of his head and slowly rubbed his upper arm. The rain had completely stopped and nature stood still. Quiet was the earth. Quiet and still.

After a few moments she said, “When we first met I was very grief struck. My son was taken from me in a flash and emptiness was all I could feel. ‘How could you?!’ I screamed at the sky. The light within me, my candle, was snuffed out in a single moment. Without a goodbye. And then you came along son. And like a cool breeze you invigorated my spirit. Some angel sent me you. A healer. And I no longer questioned – I no longer cursed the sky. Things were no longer dark. My candle was once again burning.”

He lifted his head to face her.

She continued looking into his eyes “You belong more than you could ever know. Thank you for being you”.

And serenity became of his face and his heart beat slowly and deeply.

For minutes he rested in her arms before she offered “If you’d like you can stay here tonight.”

“Ok” he whispered.

“Let me go fix up a bed for you dear.”

As she went away he sat there looking into the moon reflected by a street puddle. He then looked up to the moon, the brightest he’s seen in a while. He sat there thoughtless as though they escaped with his tears. The screen door then opened and she led him to a makeshift bed and the silent tone of the house was a welcoming comfort. She took him in her arms once more and on exiting said, “Sleep well Daniel” and her smile seemed to guarantee this statement. Daniel closed his eyes and slept deep and unmoving.

11.

She also slept deep that night and awoke the next day at an hour later than usual. She had dreamt something lovely and straining to recall it left her confused. She let it go and thought of Daniel. She knew he wouldn’t be around. Could feel it. She walked downstairs and, after finding the loose railing fixed, crept by the room he slept in. The bed was made nice and a soft wind blew through the white curtains and slid over her face. She smiled at the pristine bed. She walked into the kitchen, brewed some coffee, and sat by the kitchen window letting the morning sunlight warm her bony fingers. She sat and listened to the neighborhood children play, the neighbors chatting, lawnmowers roaring, and thought of Daniel. He didn’t say goodbye and a sadness developed. He is his own soul she thought to counter the sadness. She inhaled deep and peered back out the window. A butterfly sat calmly on the window sill, its wings swaying gently. It then flew in haphazard circles and on departing led her eyes to something near the table. It was a folded letter lying on top of her romance novel- ‘To the best manager in the world’. She opened it.

“Nothing takes the place of a loving person. A guide, a teacher, a parent, and most rewarding, a friend. This mornings’ sunrise did not mock me as it usually does though it didn’t share any secrets either. The birds did not laugh at me when I could not understand their songs. The wind blew around me and did not tease me. Where I’m going I don’t know. And what I’m doing and what other people are doing I don’t know either. And maybe that’s ok. It’s true that love never dies. It is a fire in the heart, no matter how faint or mighty, and the candles of our souls share but a single flame.

Forever I thank you for sharing yours.”

Love always,

Daniel

She held the letter a long time. She knew deep down this was goodbye and so she held it close and looked out toward the rising sun. That huge burning star that signals hope to this lonely planet thousands of miles away. And on and on it burns never asking for a thing. And every day it rises and every day this planet continues its revolution around it. And the sun keeps burning with all its strength until one year, one day, one moment it will burn no more. Its time will come and in that moment, many years from now, the mass of men will wonder what it all was for.

Epilogue

His job no longer had him scheduled. His landlord retrieved the spare key and found his apartment looking as though someone still lived there. He had disappeared and a mystery grew around this and the landlord and boss, though bitter from this, held secret admiration for to disappear was a dream they would only dream.

Many miles away in a small town of 2,000 souls a gas station attendant sat sardonically gazing at loads of toxic packaged food smothering the aisles. Bland pop music droned out from speakers yelling its message of having a good time, of loving life, and he sat there dull and flat. He looked outside and saw a man standing still looking at a flock of pigeons drinking rainfall from the cupped rim of an abandoned tire.

“Yo Becca, look at this guy” he said over his shoulder.

She came around “Hm, guess he really likes birds”.

“Probably from the cuckoo’s nest himself” he said turning his attention to an open People magazine lying on the counter.

The door chime sounded and in walked this man. His movements were slow and self-assured as though it was his home. There was an authority in his walk yet humility lying upon his shoulders. The cashier watched this man intensely. He couldn’t figure this man out like he could all the others. People were children and easy to figure out but this man was not. He was in his own world, a citizen of his own planet, and who knows the laws that govern an alien world. The man approached and laid a loaf of bread on the counter.

“This gonna be it?” the cashier said watching the man’s downcast eyes somehow becoming victim

upon his responded tone and words.

The man looked up and looking into his shining eyes the cashier was transported somewhere, “Yes sir, that is all” the man said.

With a sense of duty the cashier began carrying out the transaction procedure.

“How are you today?” the man asked soft and clear.

The cashier was holding weight and the mans tone might as well demanded, “Tell me of your troubles.”

“Oh just another day” the cashier said releasing a tiny bit of weight looking into the man’s eyes for any sign of judgment, “Just another slow uneventful day”.

The man smiled knowingly, “I feel yah; some days can be so bland huh?”

“Oh man, in this town” the cashier spoke in confidence, “it can be deadly boring. People even look mostly dead. Sleepwalking or something”

The man chuckled and with this the cashier released some burden in laughter.

The man then stated, “It’s a nice view you have here though” looking toward the large wall windows.

“Yeah…get to watch the crazies without being involved” and they shared another laugh, “Here you are – 36 cents is your change.”

“Thank you my good man”.

The cashier sensed a departure and trying to avoid this loss said, “You need a bag or receipt or anything?”

“A bag would be great, thank you” and the man’s eyes sparkled with gratitude.

From behind the cashier Becca stood absorbing this man’s presence also trying to decipher him. The man found her eyes and she smiled innocently and his eyes smiled back.

With this newfound confidence the cashier went out on a limb, “You gonna feed those birds or something?”

“I look like one of those guys huh? Am I one of the crazies?” the man said with twinkling eyes.

“Shit, you could be” the cashier jested back.

The man laughed loudly now as he appreciated the banter, “Don’t the birds have enough trash to feed on around back?”

The cashier laughed deeply now at the cynical question, “You’re right, they don’t have to worry bout food round here” and now the cashiers’ eyes gleamed congruence with the man’s.

“Ok good” said the man, “Guess I won’t need to feed them after all.”

The cashier chuckled, “You’re crazy man”

“I know – it’s quite wonderful” and the man picked up the bag of bread and turned to leave, “I’ll see yah later friend.”

“Take care man” and the cashier meant these words perhaps for the first time.

Becca wanting one more moment said aloud, “Have a good day sir”.

He turned and found her eyes, “You too”

The door chime signaled his leave and the music returned to fill the store and the cashier went

about sweeping the aisles. Becca looked at him working and she saw he was for once grinning slightly.

In his own world.

The End