Inspired
“You wanna ride in my Mercedes?”
I could barely hear him above the sound of the thunder. I was soaking wet and tired of carrying the burden. I got in to the car.
“I need to talk to you.”
“That’s what I’m here for.”
I know.
“Let’s go somewhere, please.”
“You mean you don’t want to go home?”
He was talking about my home, not his.
“No. Not anymore.”
“Are you running away?”
“Literally, yes.”
“What do you mean?”
“I could never really leave.”
“Oh?”
“I…feel like my head exploded. All over the pavement. And I’m watching my blood flow through my veins and I want it to stop.” This was the truth, only encrypted. “You can’t hide from yourself. Not when He’s always watching.”
“And by yourself you mean God, don’t you?”
Obviously, he knew what I was talking about.
“Eyes, always watching, I get no peace. I can’t win.”
“Who are you fighting?”
You.
“God…and myself. What about you?”
A coffee shop inland Rhode Island, it must be past midnight. Stupid fluorescent lights give me a headache, but its welcome relief from the thunderstorms. Inside of me and out. Here he finally answered my question.
“The monsters inside my skull.”
“Cocaine.” I whispered back. “It’s funny.”
“What?” He seemed inside himself as well.
“Well, if feels like I’ve been next to you for a lifetime. This is the only time you’ve ever mentioned any sort of addiction. I assumed you were perfect.” You always have been.
“I’ve got a few skeletons in my closet.” He said.
Skeletons. And I wanted to throw up.
“Hey, are you alright?”
“Yeah.” Get a hold of yourself. “I’ve got a few skeletons myself.” I meant it too.
I think he could see it in my eyes. Long nights of hiding under the covers. I could hear them crying all the time now, begging me, hating me. I took so much coke I’d quit my job, I never knew where I was. I forgot why I was so scared of the closet. But when it wore off.
He finished his coffee.
“Let’s go for a ride.”
“Don’t take me home.”
He took my hand.
“Trust me.”
And I did.
We drove for a long time. I thought for a moment that we were going back to my house. That my eyes gave me away and he was going to expose me. I panicked. We stopped in front of what looked like a forest.
“Follow me, don’t worry. I used to do this all the time.”
We walked through the trees and came to a hidden beach. The clouds had broken (temporarily, it was thundering) and given way to a sky full of eyes and one mouth. Smiling tonight.
He got out of the car and told me to look to the north. I could see my house less than a hundred yards away, one solemn window shining. I don’t remember leaving it on. Skeletons. I lay down on the packed sand and he joined me.
“I’ve got a confession.” He said the words I was thinking. “We’ve known each other for a long time now.”
“Fifteen years.” A prolonged silence gave way to the pressure of his pleading eyes. So did I.
“I’m addicted to coke.” And as an afterthought: “And you.”
I am a horrible person.
“I’m a horrible person.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Remember Dill?” My old boyfriend.
“Yeah.”
“He got me pregnant.”
“Oh? Where’s the…”
“I never had the kid.”
“So you?”
“It gets worse.”
He stopped talking.
“I wanted to have the baby but I changed my mind at the last minute. By then it was too late, couldn’t go to a clinic.”
A silence hung in the air like fog. Then he spoke.
“Where did you put him?”
“In the closet. He’s still there. I’m so sorry, I… ”
“Let’s feed the weakness.”
I touched his lips. He moved to the back of the car and pulled out a plastic bag. I don’t know how many lines I did. Not enough. Suddenly he was smiling at me again. He turned his car on and turned the radio up as loud as it would go. He yelled through the noise.
“I think it’s gonna rain again.” He pulled a bottle of Jack Daniels out of the car and took a drink. Lightning struck, not too far away. “Come! Dance with me!”
I looked through my haze and saw that house. Running as fast as I could I made my way towards it and like we were connected he read me and followed. We got to the base and he had already lit the match. I took one long swig from the bottle and smashed it on the porch throwing the match on as well. He put his arm around me and we left it to burn. I began to run; I didn’t want to hear the screaming when flame hit the closet.
We made it back to his car and we turned to watch the house burn. Flash of lightning blinded us momentarily. I blinked and realized that it had hit the house. Lord, thy wrath is divine. I saw the house I grew up in, the location of one death (daddy’s) and one murder. He took my hand in his and I could only watch as my childhood and my child burned.
“Dance with me.” It barely came out as a whisper. We began the movements. Slowly at first, but it grew to a frenzied waltz, exploding finally as we collapsed into each other and onto the sand.
“Marry me.” He whispered.
“How much did you shoot?” I asked, smiling.
“Who cares. If we don’t wake up tomorrow, I’d be happy.”
I considered it.
“Yes.”
He rolled over on top of me and we were lost in the tide while our shadows sinned in the light of my burning house.
We never saw daylight again.
Capin’ Sparrow
20 April 2005
2:48am
I could barely hear him above the sound of the thunder. I was soaking wet and tired of carrying the burden. I got in to the car.
“I need to talk to you.”
“That’s what I’m here for.”
I know.
“Let’s go somewhere, please.”
“You mean you don’t want to go home?”
He was talking about my home, not his.
“No. Not anymore.”
“Are you running away?”
“Literally, yes.”
“What do you mean?”
“I could never really leave.”
“Oh?”
“I…feel like my head exploded. All over the pavement. And I’m watching my blood flow through my veins and I want it to stop.” This was the truth, only encrypted. “You can’t hide from yourself. Not when He’s always watching.”
“And by yourself you mean God, don’t you?”
Obviously, he knew what I was talking about.
“Eyes, always watching, I get no peace. I can’t win.”
“Who are you fighting?”
You.
“God…and myself. What about you?”
A coffee shop inland Rhode Island, it must be past midnight. Stupid fluorescent lights give me a headache, but its welcome relief from the thunderstorms. Inside of me and out. Here he finally answered my question.
“The monsters inside my skull.”
“Cocaine.” I whispered back. “It’s funny.”
“What?” He seemed inside himself as well.
“Well, if feels like I’ve been next to you for a lifetime. This is the only time you’ve ever mentioned any sort of addiction. I assumed you were perfect.” You always have been.
“I’ve got a few skeletons in my closet.” He said.
Skeletons. And I wanted to throw up.
“Hey, are you alright?”
“Yeah.” Get a hold of yourself. “I’ve got a few skeletons myself.” I meant it too.
I think he could see it in my eyes. Long nights of hiding under the covers. I could hear them crying all the time now, begging me, hating me. I took so much coke I’d quit my job, I never knew where I was. I forgot why I was so scared of the closet. But when it wore off.
He finished his coffee.
“Let’s go for a ride.”
“Don’t take me home.”
He took my hand.
“Trust me.”
And I did.
We drove for a long time. I thought for a moment that we were going back to my house. That my eyes gave me away and he was going to expose me. I panicked. We stopped in front of what looked like a forest.
“Follow me, don’t worry. I used to do this all the time.”
We walked through the trees and came to a hidden beach. The clouds had broken (temporarily, it was thundering) and given way to a sky full of eyes and one mouth. Smiling tonight.
He got out of the car and told me to look to the north. I could see my house less than a hundred yards away, one solemn window shining. I don’t remember leaving it on. Skeletons. I lay down on the packed sand and he joined me.
“I’ve got a confession.” He said the words I was thinking. “We’ve known each other for a long time now.”
“Fifteen years.” A prolonged silence gave way to the pressure of his pleading eyes. So did I.
“I’m addicted to coke.” And as an afterthought: “And you.”
I am a horrible person.
“I’m a horrible person.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Remember Dill?” My old boyfriend.
“Yeah.”
“He got me pregnant.”
“Oh? Where’s the…”
“I never had the kid.”
“So you?”
“It gets worse.”
He stopped talking.
“I wanted to have the baby but I changed my mind at the last minute. By then it was too late, couldn’t go to a clinic.”
A silence hung in the air like fog. Then he spoke.
“Where did you put him?”
“In the closet. He’s still there. I’m so sorry, I… ”
“Let’s feed the weakness.”
I touched his lips. He moved to the back of the car and pulled out a plastic bag. I don’t know how many lines I did. Not enough. Suddenly he was smiling at me again. He turned his car on and turned the radio up as loud as it would go. He yelled through the noise.
“I think it’s gonna rain again.” He pulled a bottle of Jack Daniels out of the car and took a drink. Lightning struck, not too far away. “Come! Dance with me!”
I looked through my haze and saw that house. Running as fast as I could I made my way towards it and like we were connected he read me and followed. We got to the base and he had already lit the match. I took one long swig from the bottle and smashed it on the porch throwing the match on as well. He put his arm around me and we left it to burn. I began to run; I didn’t want to hear the screaming when flame hit the closet.
We made it back to his car and we turned to watch the house burn. Flash of lightning blinded us momentarily. I blinked and realized that it had hit the house. Lord, thy wrath is divine. I saw the house I grew up in, the location of one death (daddy’s) and one murder. He took my hand in his and I could only watch as my childhood and my child burned.
“Dance with me.” It barely came out as a whisper. We began the movements. Slowly at first, but it grew to a frenzied waltz, exploding finally as we collapsed into each other and onto the sand.
“Marry me.” He whispered.
“How much did you shoot?” I asked, smiling.
“Who cares. If we don’t wake up tomorrow, I’d be happy.”
I considered it.
“Yes.”
He rolled over on top of me and we were lost in the tide while our shadows sinned in the light of my burning house.
We never saw daylight again.
Capin’ Sparrow
20 April 2005
2:48am