Two Loves, Armageddon (Chapter Three)

Chapter Three

Images

The break from one picture to the next is the only obscurity left to fill, and yet in these glimpses we find meaning.

Why was I here? I cursed my desire to be the hero. Benefit can blind a man. I was blind, my eyes closed and with my legs still paralyzed and glued to the ground every muscle wrenched awaiting a devastating blow. In my head I screamed. Cowardice is simply my acceptance of fear and the subsequent reaction. Courage is for the hopeful, and rescue hope seldom comes when all doors are locked.

My heart stopped, I felt cold and naked. I took breath and clichéd my eyes one last time. The door at in the corner flew open making a loud thud as the knob struck the wall.

Bat an eyelid and you would miss the world, but for a eyelid I would not miss my own fate. I open my eyes and reaffirmed my existence in this world. Repositioning my stance, and fixing my posture I let the skin shrouding my eyes slide away.

Light, our eyes are always closed, when we shade ourselves from it.

My pupils re-adjusted and barely focused in time to discern a female figure charging me. Sara left the floor latching on to my shoulders. Unfortunately, my bold stance was not as sturdy as I had imagined and we both crashed to the floor. My head pounded the floor boards but I felt no pain. Maybe it was the adrenaline flowing through my veins, or the happiness of being reunited. Nevertheless the night had become a little less dark.

We wasted no time. She asked no questions and needed no answers. I did the same. In truth what is there to talk about. Everything is rather simple when you approach it that way. Only through lenses does life appear complicated.

Every creature perceives the world differently; no individual has ever seen the same world as I.

She followed me, despite not knowing where I was taking her. I knew she would follow my lead till the end of this world. It was only my elevated heartbeat telling me that we never would see its manifestation. As we exited through the backyard, the same way I entered, I turned and looked at her in full focus. In her eyes I saw a trust that I wished was even possible. It fill me with hope.

Approaching the street from the driveway, we saw Ryan coming around the corner. He pulled up slowly and opened the door by reaching across the passenger seat.

Sara got in first. With one foot in the door, I saw something I had always wanted. It was a 1967 Corvette convertible sitting in the driveway just one house down on the other side of the street. “The neighborhood seemed quiet enough” I thought.

“Keep rouding Ryan, if you see anything unusual honk on your last pass and meet me back at the store”

“Alright” he replied, “but what are you doing?” He inquired further but his words were muffled after I closed the door. As soon as he saw the direction in which I was walking he knew what I had planned. He did know everything about me, he was practically me.

An incarnation of something I needed.

The old Chevy bubbled down the block turning and leaving my visual screen. I cautiously approached the beautiful metallic creature I had dreamed about. The closer I got the more perfect it became. It was cream colored with a red decal along the hood. The subtlest white details came into view as I touched the shiny chrome handle. Never in person had I seen such a perfect blend of art, technology, and sheer mechanic power.

It was a tribute to a golden era of thinking, when man was somehow in the right. The hardest part would be getting inside of it without damaging it. It was unlocked, and in a clichéd gesture I looked at the sky. Like the baseball players of ole. With the mentality that there was a god and that for some peculiar reason his primary concern and wisdom was focused on a lackluster sport of drugged out men, these exemplars of self indulgence would point up to the sky as if to say thanks for the help big guy. Nevertheless, I did the same.

I felt our circumstances were slightly different. In this world all the larger issues had been obliterated by our quasi Armageddon. Things had reverted and we sat once again, man, nature, and the reminisce of man’s toys idly waiting for guidance. But what I sat in was no toy, it was something much more substantial.

Within a few moments I had the car hotwired and with one little twist began the roar that only confined exploding fuels could muster. Reversing into the street, Ryan and Sara pulled up alongside.

“You guys want a lift”, placing a cool façade over my overheated giddiness.

“Hell Yes”, Ryan wasn’t as big a fan of cars as I was but he nevertheless new that I would feel a whole lot cooler if he acted like it was.

He let the old Chevy run and jumped in the back letting Sara ride shotgun. I winked at him, and he nodded. I smiled at Sara, and she smiled back.

“One last stop” I told them both “I just want to drive by my brother’s apartment, if it doesn’t look good we don’t need to stop.” They both agreed, knowing I wouldn’t put them in danger if I could help it. But I guess sometimes you can’t help it.

The idea of control makes us think we are strong. Every action and every thought you have ever had is merely a construct of some inner desire that your path throughout life has instilled within you. You are unique, but you do not sit in the driver’s seat.

Simply, you have no control. Having wouldn’t change a thing.

Especially not here.