No words

Each one is different but they all have a similar flow. I’m heading somewhere I enjoy, either by myself, with friends or my mate to a place far away. Most of the time I don’t quite know where I am but last night I had to of gone to Hawaii, there were a lot of palm trees and coconuts.

The atmosphere was warm and stress-free. I may have been in a jet. There weren’t many passengers. In fact, It was just me Seymone, my girlfriend, and the pilot. Now that I’m thinking about it, it also doesn’t seem like I have a job in any of them or at least a laborious one because I’m never there. I don’t find myself thinking of my next paycheck or how I’ll be able to pay for this months portion of the rent. Food is never scarce. If I want to eat out I do it, because my wallet is overflowing. Nothing less than Benjamin Franklins. I think the biggest aspect, in hindsight, is my state of mind. The places and experiences aren’t that extreme. Actually they’re pretty conservative in the context of what I see on television. I might have a nice apartment, high up on the 25th floor overlooking a city with a balcony that has an owning. A ridiculously fast vehicle where the miles per hour start at the speed limit. But I never get pulled over. The main thing that stands out is the lightness. It’s as if I’m the same person but without all the weight bearing down on my shoulders. Abruptly, It always ends with me picking up a hardbound piece of literature, to which I get ready to read, but I’m never able to get through one page. I hear sirens. My eyes open. And yet again I come to the realization It was all just a dream.

The siren, of course, is my alarm clock. The brilliance of the world I was just in buzzes for a few seconds like an insect next to a Venus fly trap, and then, in lightning speed, I get gobbled up. The mouth though is a cold room located on 135th street in Harlem, without power.

Bizarre dreams they truly are, for the simple fact It’s been three and a half years since I’ve read a book. I only remember this because it was that time ago when my father lost his job and left me, my mother, older brother and sister with a note saying “sorry.” Nothing else but that…sorry.

My father, a college graduate, was an accomplished man, who holds the jackhammer and bares the fragments of a structure that was once standing. A family structure. I can only recall his features by memory because every photo of him is now in possession of the sanitation department or in the ether. My mom disposed of every single framed image to jpeg file on her phone when he left. My brother was following behind his very footsteps until everything crumbled.

“Subjects all have various flavors” He would say. “Each book gives a different flavor. If you want to really understand the whole recipe or subject, you must acknowledge all the flavors.” He would always have a shirt on that had a pocket, In it would be a notepad and a felt tip marker. After a few pages of reading, he’d adjust his glasses and scribble a few lines before continuing. There had to have been hundreds of books he’d read over the years and none of them were able to influence him to make a smart decision. All of those words, facts, studies, flavorful accents for the mind. It did nothing but destroy. I too was on the way to become an educated man like my father until those books left a bad taste in my mouth, shutting down my desire to taste the "flavor."

Reading wasn’t the only thing that got left behind. I dropped out of school and started working, to contribute to the loss of income my father brought about. My mother didn’t approve of it at all. Every day before heading out to work I’d get chastised about my choices. She would work sun up to sun down to keep us alive, although she knew it wouldn’t last forever. “Planning for the future gots to be in my children’s cards” she’d say. The money I was making in construction wouldn’t support me if I was on my own and I knew that, but in my head I figured it was something. it took 3.5 years for it to be the last straw for my mom. Usually it goes off, the alarm, but that day it didn’t go off. Dakota, my little sister, flew into my room with half of her head in braids.

Jasper wake up!

I’m awake, stop yelling I said.

Mommy not happy, she say dis da day daddy leave…

Hush girl! Get back into my room so I can finish your hair! My mother screamed out.

On my way to the kitchen I Heard the words before seeing the vessel it was coming out of. I had no chance to respond. It was a my why or the highway kind of speech. Almost without breathing my mother said “You can’t blame your dads actions on the books, it was him not the books. I will not allow this to go any further. If you do not bring a book back today you’re out!” And then stormed to her room and slammed the door causing the remote, in the living room, to fall off the couch.

She said she would kick me out if I didn’t pick one up. I never thought she’d go there, but she did. As a defiant response, to buy some time, I picked up a book from a sidewalk vendor on 125th street that had no words in it. I asked the man “why doesn’t this book have any words?” all he could say was “I sell them, I’m not the author.” I dug into my pockets and found the last bill, in my wallet, it would be about six or seven days until it’d be replenished.

my walk back from the construction site went similar to all the others. Boots swaying on telephone lines above like swings at the playground. Mothers walking their kids back from school. Garbage piled high overflowing from cans that seem to have been forgotten, smoke emanating from nostrils, mouths, and cracks in the ground. It’s an un-maintained desert with concrete rather than sand. Buildings instead of cactus. The only major difference is it’s flooded with living organisms known as humans.

I always hear him before I see him. Shaking his cup filled with coins, most of them made out of copper. His toes are always exposed sticking out of his shoes. Dark skin, eyes yellow, resting above thick bags, shaking that cup rigorously to a Jamaican tune I still don’t know the name of. We don’t have the same size foot but if we did I’d give him my black and white sneakers I never wear anymore, but buying him new ones would be a stretch. I can’t even by myself any right now and my boots are starting to wear thin as it is. That day was devastating in so many ways. The store I routinely go to after work went out of business. The owner was talking off it but I didn’t actually think it would happen. I saw my friend Norvul and his mother get evicted right in front of my eyes and there was nothing I could do. They were behind on 3 months worth of rent.

As if that wasn’t enough, I was also walking back to a house that was cold and powerless.

When I got home I bounced from candle to candle like a moth. I reached the one my mother was sitting next to and glanced over at the stove. Luckily, the electricity didn’t get in the way of eating, the air was filled with baked chicken, potatoes, and plantains, thanks to our gas powered stove and food pantry at the church. I gave her the usual kiss on the cheek.

“You hungry?” She said.

“I’m okay, I picked up a slice when I got off”

To make a Long story short, as I was getting ready to leave the kitchen she reached her arm out and squeezed my wrist with the book in it and smiled, “Thank you.”

Heading back to my room my heart was heavy, the feeling was terrible. I felt bad that the book wasn’t what she thought it was. I hadn’t seen her smile in a while and that smile brought me lower than the titanic. I took the flashlight off the top of the refrigerator resembling the actions of a detective as I tracked down sweatpants and a T-shirt.

I took a last look at the book, hoping to find a title or something that I may have missed, which could ease my guilt, but there was nothing. I tossed the book on the floor in disgust, took a few deep breaths and held the tears back. I closed my eyes and turned off the flashlight. My thoughts were stirring like rocks in a blender and an elephant was sitting right on my chest, at least that was the sensation. A car, that sounded like a concert, drifted by blasting a song that had been playing on the radio none stop for months. The bass from the vehicle rattled all the items scattered throughout my room sending orbs of light across my lids. Vanishing as fast as they came. A few more cars passed and then left, however suddenly something was off. I noticed that the cars had definitely passed but there was still a strong luminous source present beyond my lashes. I took a look at the ceiling and realized there was a fluorescent yellow glimmering light emanating from somewhere on the floor.

No way, this can’t be.

I kid you not. the pages in the book were glowing. They were radiating as if a one hundred fifty million watt lightbulb was sitting right in the middle. I reached out to pick it up, hesitant that it might burn me from simply touching it. I placed my hand real close for a few seconds to see if it was in fact hot and it wasn’t. It was bright enough to light up my whole room leaving no shadows whatsoever, but some how it wasn’t blinding. I opened it up and what I saw caused me to drop it and stare at the wall for a few seconds before rescuing it from the ground. I pinched myself and held it in my hands again. The book had words. Only the first few pages was filled with text and the rest was blank but it had words!

Where thee stands will be the epicenter. Gaze upward, locate twelve o’clock and ye shall discover a reward behind.”

I stood up and looked straight. My closet was about 10 feet away. As the wooden floor creaked beneath my feet I approached the door with the black book still in hand. I touched the round knob and jolted back. the door did the rest. “Boom!” I dropped to my knees, producing a loud thud. “What was that!” My mother yelled from the other room, “nothing! I dropped the flashlight!” I stood there absolutely frozen.

The last sentence of the chapter said “If you spend the money on yourself it stops here. But if you want to help others the journey continues.”

I looked up and thought of my walk back home. The smile on my mothers face and cried all the tears I held back earlier. I cried for those who I would see cry tomorrow.