by trentm32 » 4/5/2005, 10:14 am
..FALLEN LEAVES... >>NEXT CHUNK>>
...It felt hard between my fingers. I pulled the smooth piece of metal out, and watched the sun shoot off in a million directions as it struck the silver surface. I breathed in one final breath of preparation, and walked through the front door into the building.
Every step that my feet found echoed through the hollow corridor. Thump, thump, thump. Every reverberation seemed to fall in line with my heartbeat. It was one of the longest walks of my life. I finally made it to the front door of our apartment. I could hear tiny sounds coming from behind the door. Jules was still there. I stood there a few more moments; debating whether I should knock, or just let myself in. It’s funny, the little things you stress over. I finally decided to just use my key. As the lock on the doorknob clicked, I could hear sudden, excited silence fill the room beyond. I finally opened it, just enough to walk through, and slid myself into the tiny den. As I walked in, my sight immediately connected to Jules’ glowing blue eyes. She was trying so desperately to hold my gaze. All I could do was look at the floor. She was the first to speak. “You’re back. I knew you’d come back.” A genuine smile was quickly spreading across her face. “I… I can’t stay,” I quickly said with faux determination—hoping desperately my words would stall her smile before it made it from one corner to the next. It did. Her lips began to tremble. My legs suddenly felt like rubber. “A friend needs my help.” “I need you,” she shot back, showing what I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, was the first bit of true vulnerability she had ever shown to me. Tears began to slide down my cheek.
“I love you,” she said, as she came towards me; arms spread in embrace. “You shouldn’t,” I replied; as she slid herself between by arms. I could feel her heartbeat. It felt like the staircase, only harder. Warmer. Truer. “I lied to you,” I finally said. I could feel her body stiffen at the words. “What?” she squeaked out, between sobs. “I… I told you I loved you. And, and I don’t know if I…if I do, or not. But I said it, and I wasn’t sure… and I don’t think that’s one of the things you’re supposed to say, unless you’re a hundred percent sure… and…” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. “…I’m sorry.” She just pulled me tighter.
“That doesn’t matter... I forgive you… do you know, now? Do you love me, Alex?” By now she had pulled back, and the oceans in her eyes were staring deeper into me than anyone had ever looked before. “I… I don’t know. And, I can’t do this, if I don’t know. I just… I can’t. I’m sorry, Jules… I’m sorry.” At this she finally backed away from me. She collapsed onto the floor, her head between her hands. “But, but I love you,” I made out between sobs. I took a step toward her, out of reflex to comfort her, but caught myself; it would only make things worse. All I could do was walk past her, and pick up my bags. They were still stacked in the corner, where I’d left them the day before. A lifetime before. As I came back by, I laid my copy of the front door key down on the floor, in front on Jules.
When I did this, she finally raised her head. “If you’re waiting for me to get mad at you, so you can feel better; so you can justify walking out that door—you can forget about it.” She paused to gain her breath. “I love you, and I’m right here.” All I could do was mumble apologies as I fumbled to get my things together. When I finally made it back to the front door to leave, I looked back one last time toward her. She was sitting with her back against the wall; her head raised high, her eyes looking right through me. She’d never looked so broken. She’d never looked so beautiful.
I couldn’t leave yet. I slowly, hands trembling, walked back to her. I kneeled down in front of her, and she went to lower her head. I caught it with my forefinger, and led her sweet face up until we were looking straight into each others eyes. Before I even knew what I was doing we were kissing. It seemed as if we both knew it would be our last. I finally pulled away, and as I did I held her gaze. “Jules; you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met,” and with that I lifted my thin frame back to its feet, and walked out of the room.
As I finally shut the door behind me, I was suddenly overrun with regret. Not because I thought I had made a mistake; to this day I stand firmly to my decision to walk out that door. It was just the fact that I had done it. I had made a decision that, to me, seemed irreversible. Walking out that door was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done in my life. I cared about her. Hell, I might have even loved her. But it just didn’t feel right. I wasn’t ready. She wasn’t ready. We were just too young. I hated more than anything to admit that to myself. Ever since I was a kid, I always got defensive when someone would tell me I was ‘too young’. It really stings when you figure it out for yourself. I wiped my tears off onto my sleeve, and slowly made my way back down to Josh’s car. Once I was at the front of the building, I looked up to it one last time. It looked smaller than it ever had before. The vines were like blades of grass, inching up alongside an aged matchbox. I quickly put my sunglasses on, and finally got in the car.
The radio was set to a classical station; a composition by Beethoven filled my ears on the way back to the hotel. Once I was there, I just sat in the car until the song was over. Through the song, the beauty was marred by a weakened crackle; two tiny speakers failing desperately to contain a symphony. When I walked into the room, Josh was putting his shoes on. Without looking up he asked “So, how’d it go?”
I replied with a question. “When does life slow down?” Without even pausing he shot back: “I don’t know—when you’re dead, maybe?” I just shrugged. I walked over to Josh’s guitar that was sitting propped against the bed. I picked it up and began strumming from C to G, and back again. The only two chords I know. After a few moments I popped the strings still and looked up; “So, where’s the first show?”
“A little bar in Bangor,” Josh replied, still fiddling with his shoelaces. He paused for a second, and tossed a duffel bag at me; “Here roadie, make yourself useful,” he jokingly said. I just chuckled, and lugged the bag outside, and tossed it in the trunk. Once I made it back in, he finally had his shoe tied. “Ready to hit the road?” he asked me. I breathed a deep breath. Knowing it could be one of the last bits of air I ever tasted from Florence I savored it, and made my way out toward the car.
On the way to Bangor I finally had a chance to get some of the details about the journey we were on. “So Josh, how exactly are we financing this little excursion?” “I’ve been saving some money for a while; plus my parents fronted me some.” “Really? Your parents have that much faith in you?” “No way,” he replied. “They just think that if I get out here and fail miserably, I’ll come back with my tail between my legs and go to law school,” he said proudly; nodding his head with full confidence of success. I just laughed.
My last experience in Bangor had been a pleasant one; back when Josh, Bill, Johnathan, and I stopped by for a day to hang out. I didn’t get to see the seedy side of town that day. It seems that, thanks to my tour with Josh, that was about to be remedied. When we entered the city, we were on the same road we had come through before. We even made our way by the river spot at the Penobscot we had stopped at our first time through. But it didn’t take long before we’d made a couple of turns, and things were looking way too dark and dank for the early afternoon. “So, what’s this place called?” I asked Josh, straightening in my seat to help watch for, as we now in the music biz say, the venue.
“Hell Box Bar & Grill.” All I could do was stare blankly back at him. “I know; sounds classy.” “Yeah,” I unenthusiastically added. After the third scary looking homeless person we drove by, I leaned over and clicked the auto-lock button for the doors. “Good idea,” Josh whispered under his breath; a subconscious effort not to attract attention toward ourselves.
We drove around blindly, too scared to ask for directions, until we finally came across the place. It was nothing more that a small, concrete set of stairs leading into a basement, with a fiery, spray painted sign held above it with sheetrock screws. Classy.
"When looking up there, I just felt whole, like I belonged. Like one day I too would shine my most brilliant. Sitting there also made me think about sitting through services at my little country church back home. About that never-changing congregation of the same sixty-seven people and everyone has known you since before you were born. Now, out here in the real world, everything just seemed more vivid than when I used to sit in that little pew. That pew that was now so, so far away from where I was. I feared I had somehow left God behind there, too. I feared he was somehow just sitting there, saving my seat on the fifth pew from the front row, just waiting on me to come back. I left so quickly, I worried that he may not have noticed I was gone. And, now, I’m just too far away to find. So he’s just sitting there, patiently waiting on me to come back. I closed my eyes and prayed a moment. I hoped more than anything that he could still hear me." -an excerpt from my novella,
A Sea of Fallen Leaves.
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
haha
