Waiting for an appointment at the
clinic. It is Monday morning. I need some meds for my head, my neuralgia, and I
must see the M.D. to make it happen. The pot works fine but it’s good to have a
backup plan if I need it. Sitting on a bench by the creek while I wait. I might
as well try to write something.
It rained but my bed stayed dry.
Birds are chirping when I open my eyes this morning. All the pretty green trees
look like wallpaper and I think I am in a room somewhere or still dreaming till
the breeze starts moving and I remember I am in the woods. How nice.
“I was fine before I met her,” the
young guy, Joey, says to me last night sitting by the big window in the café.
“I had plenty of stuff going on and did not need a woman to make me happy.” He
goes deeper and deeper and winds up telling me how he opened himself up to this
woman so much he now wonders if it was even fair.
“It’s so weird. She brings
out these fears that go way back … she says she loves me in a way that has
never happened to her before but I don’t know if I can trust her.”
“Way back?” I ask. The kid is just
twenty-one. “How far back are you talking about?”
“It was in the second grade,” he
says, and laughs. “This girl broke my heart and I never got over it.”
Alice texts as I sit here typing. “I
was so sore after the little hike we took yesterday. I hope you slept
peacefully.” I check the time and see I will be late if I don’t leave right
The doctor is great. I get the prescription.
I may not need the drugs but it will be good to have them if I do. About to go somewhere
and have lunch with Alice and her little girl. Sitting on the couch and typing
while they get ready.
The sun is out and it’s a fine good day. The guy with the
eye patch, Stephen, emails and says he’s enjoying this story. “Thanks for
mentioning me. I look forward to reading more.” He signs off, “The guy with the
“Just take the roll,” Alice says,
when I ask if I can have a couple of feet of duct tape. “Did you stay dry? It
rained hard all night.”
“I need something to stabilize this
house,” the little girl calls from the living room.
“How about a coin?” her mother asks
from the kitchen.
“And some tape,” the little girl
“No, we need to use glue,” her mother
says. “Remember, I told you that tape is right for
some things and glue for others. For this we need glue.” The little girl gets
up from the big round crafting table and stands beside me. I’m sitting on the
stairs by the kitchen doorway. Her mother, Alice, is putting away the tea pot.
“It is so warm,” the little girl
says, taking my cup between her hands.
“It is very warm here,“ her hands around the bottom of the cup, “and
not so warm here,” her hands closer to the top of the cup. She rubs her hands
together and holds them on my beard.
“We’re ready to go,” Alice says, and
we eventually get out of the house and ride bikes to Ruby’s redneck breakfast
joint about four blocks away. It’s great. We sit outside on the stone patio by
Pioneer Street in a perfect spring breeze and share wine and food.
I could be in Paris. I could be
somewhere in another star system. It doesn’t matter. All the people at all the
tables around us are happy and the food is good enough.
“I probably need to go
back to the woods now. Or go to the café and drink another latte,” I say,
standing beside her on the sidewalk under a big tree and finishing a cigarette.
“And you have a million things to do, so I guess I will say goodbye.”
“I should be alone with my raven
princess,” she says, smiling so nicely as I put my arm around her shoulders. “She’s
been with her dad the last few days.”
It is just very nice, all of it, the
little girl, everything. We get our bikes and push them to the street. “Will you be lonely at your camp
tonight?” she asks, as we embrace over her bicycle.
“I’ll be OK,” I say. In that perfect
moment, holding her in the middle of this public universe, it seemed
that I could never be lonely.
“Just you and the bear,” she says,
I ride to the woods as another day
fades into the warm slow breath of time. Now I am at the café by the plaza as
the sky turns grey outside the big window. How could I be lonely when her face,
her smile, even her scent still lingers everywhere?