High-Pitched Sounds Never leave me Alone.....

You ever feel like your world can just end, and begin within that same moment? I don’t know, I don’t believe in synchronicities or that I’m saved by “our father who art in heaven”. I mean you would think me mad, hell I would think you were too. The one thing I do believe in though is me still being able to breathe... and laugh…. and smile while I tell you this story. One of such misfortune, and the highest of victories. One of hope and grace. One which involves this very coffee shop which we sit in, on this rainy day. One I can smile and laugh and remember the reason why I am breathing.

“Expelliarmus....” was the last word of the real world I heard before I took in that wretched squeal. That high-pitched sound which seemed to ring on forever. I have no idea why my boyfriend decided on this particular sound for his ringtone. Maybe he was inspired by that Facebook post I posted yesterday morning? I only posted it because I thought it would annoy some at 7 am in the morning. Maybe I am just annoying in general? Anyhow, I never would have thought my own jerk-ie-ness would come back and laugh in my face like this. Only 2 hours his phone has been suited up and I already want to throw his phone in the washing machine.

A couple of moments go by and he seems not to notice the high-pitched mess coming from his device. So I paused the movie, get up, roll my eyes, and follow that sound to its source. Like always when he doesn’t notice his phone ringing, I answer it. The call was coming from an Unknown number but being that he worked for the government and they all block their numbers when they call anyone, I thought nothing of it and answered the horrible thing. “Guten Tag”, I say with the hardest German accent, to throw off any unwanted callers. For a moment there was a still silence coming from the other line. I almost said it again until I heard some ruffling around. Soon after that came out a voice of familiarity. “Hello may I speak to Ms. Ra?” this husky yet striking voice asks me. I was Ms. Ra, but why wouldn’t they call my phone and why does this man’s voice sound so familiar? “May I ask who’s calling?” I say with almost fear in my voice, I could feel my heartbeat raising and I wondered if this stranger could hear it too. “I’m calling about her father....” The stranger said in an easily recognizable irritated tone. The way he said the word father almost made me hang up right then and there. “This is she,” I said with the same tone modulation. Once again there was that stillness that came through the phone from the other side, and once again... I just wanted to hang up the phone.

“Hello Ms. Ra, I don’t know if you know of me or not, but I’m your Uncle Maxine. I know your father might have never told you about me, but I have been keeping tabs on you for a long time.” As he says these words, I felt a fog-like heaviness in my mind. Something like a mist of chaos which made sense but at the same time made me sick to my stomach. Something told me to hang up the phone once more, and yet like always I kick my instincts to the side and I act as if a child, ignorant. With the remainder of the night, I had learned many things contained within this one phone call. That my father has passed, that my father wasn’t who he said he was, that I had so much more family than just him. During the entire conversation, I realized why I recognized this man’s voice; it was because this man may actually be the brother of my father. He and I may share the same spirit flowing through our veins. As the night became morning, I sort of knew that my life was about to change, forever...

“Who was that on the phone baby?” Saint, the tone death boyfriend, asks me as I return to the living room after a long night of getting my world swallowed up by a reverse tornado. As I tell him the almost unbelievable story, I also tell him that I am going to meet this mystery family member this upcoming weekend, in another state, over 15 hours away. His first response to this was “NO”. “How do you even know if anything he has to say is true? Even if it were true, what if he’s some kind of mad man? YOU DON’T KNOW THIS GUY!” I can see the pain and concern in his eyes. For he can not come with me if I go. His job would literally drown without him, and vice versa. So for him to up and leave was not even a question I could ask. “Look, I know you love me, but going to see him is the only way I can at least start to piece my life’s mystery together. You don’t understand this because you have your lineage. You know exactly where you came from and in a sense, you know who you are.” After I said this, Saint looked at me with disbelief. “You don’t have to know your family to know who YOU are Star.” When he says my name like this it’s almost like a divine presence is there within him. His voice could be considered holy even. He knows when he uses that tone, I have an uncontrollable urge to listen and take heed of what is being said to me. This time however, I think he knew his magic was all used up and there was no changing my mind. With a look of disappointment, he looked away from me and said “Fine, it’s your story, right?”

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The next three days passed quickly. It was like I was on autopilot. I almost felt as if I was an empty shell just observing other’s lives through a glass cage. The phone call took a toll on my mind. It was controlling all of my thoughts and actions. Saint started asking me more often if I needed tea, knowing drinking tea usually makes me feel grounded. I found myself drinking at least 6 cups a day. By Friday I was over the tea and just wanted to get on the road to get all of this over with. Before my departure, I spent the whole day going over my luggage and keeping a worried Saint happy. He wanted to spend every moment that day like it was our last. “I’ve got something for you,” Saint says while strolling into the living room all crazy- like. He almost appeared to me to resemble some kind of Dr. Suess character with wavey arms and legs He takes something out from behind his back and presents it to me. It looked to be a box, poorly wrapped in our Kwanzaa wrapping paper. He hands me the gift and it wasn’t heavy. While taking off the wrapping paper I could see his eyes get bigger with anticipation, which in turn made me think this was no ordinary gift. Now ripping off the lid, I still can’t tell what this gift is. It wasn’t until I had it in my hands that I could fully comprehend what it was. A little black notebook, or journal. “You’ll be going to different lands and when I was stationed over in Germany, my mother gave me a journal so that I could record all that I found interesting, or just my thoughts so that I wouldn’t feel alone. I want you to remember Star, you are never alone.” He says to me while extending his arms open wide for our last embrace.

Maxine’s house was ranch styled, with an esthetic of an evil warlock’s layer with its paints of red and black. I parked my car in his garage and walked up to the side door as instructed. There I saw the doorknocker. It was a dragon with big green glassy eyes, its body being the knocker and its wings displaying a most impressive door decoration. They seemed to go across either side of the door. I reached out for this masterpiece of art of a knocker, and before I could touch it the door pulled backward. A tall fellow with icy blue skin, long raven locks, slender arms, legs, and body stood in between me and the fortress. “Hello I’m here to meet Mr. Coolwater,” I say in a hesitant meek voice. The strange man examines me, from my floppy sneakers to my leather jacket, to my curly lock of hair. I had my hoodie on, but I’m sure he could make out the lines on my face. “So you are....” he says while slowly turning around to lead me inside. No more words were spoken between us until we reached the dining room. “I’ll be joining you for dinner I just have to freshen up a bit. Please sit down at the table I know you’ve had a long drive so I am assuming you're hungry.” Says the “slender man” who I now realize is Maxine. So odd how he greeted me. You would think when meeting a long-lost relative you would be ecstatic. He didn’t even show a sign of happiness, just overwhelming misery. I had in my hand the black book that Saint had given to me. I looked at the walls as I sat alone in the dark. I saw big pictures of numbers littering all over the walls. I thought the arranging of these numbers were cool so I wrote them down. When Maxine came back to the table he seemed even paler than before. I asked him if he was alright, he said “My health is not your issue, what issue I do have is that my brother left a mess for me to fix. Your last name it won’t do if you are to inherit the 20,000,000,000 left to you from my mother.” “My last name?” I say curiously. “Yes, its not Ra its Coolwater.” As he says this, I can see the coldness in his eyes. He doesn’t care about meeting me. He probably doesn’t care about me changing my last name. He only cares about his money. I stand up suddenly, I grab my belongings and I say “You can keep your last name, I shouldn’t have to change anything to claim what is mines.” Just like that I turned around and went back into my car, and drove until I got home.

Before driving home, I stop at a gas station to pick up some cigarettes, there I saw that the next drawing was in a couple of hours. I went out to the car grabbed the black book and played the numbers that were on Maxine’s wall. Once I got home, I crashed on the couch. I got awakened by a text message from Saint to meet him at the coffee café down the street from the house. I got up, took a shower, fed the cats, and went about my marry way to the café.

While there at the coffee shop, I tell Saint about the past 2 days and how I should of listened to him. It was then I remembered the lottery ticket I had bought the day before. I took out my phone to check last night drawing, and every number down to the Powerball number was dead on. I brought my eyes up to Saint’s and held them there. After a few moments Saint started looking weird and finally, he asks “What?.... What’s up Star?”