redemption

redemption

A Story by SJ
"

?? Not sure where to put this.... Short story, monologue....how to describe it

"

“It was 10:00. Swear to God- your brother was running around the aisles, you just stared at me- peculiar like.”

“I think not.”

“You were just so quiet, those brown eyes looking and smiling. You stared into my gut, you know, pulled out my chosen sins and held them up for me to peruse. So sweet like.”

“Ha! How old was I?”

“I’dno; 3? 5? You were wearing these sassy brown overalls. And a beret! A miniature green beret, settled down to your eyebrows.”

“Really- like my ‘fathers beret’ or something?!”

“No Sass-It was felt, like… out of a kids rifle set-”

“Oh- I remember that hat- it was my fave! My mom said I’d wear it to bed.”

“Now do you remember….in the hardware store?”

“What were you doing there?”

“Shooting. Hunting.”

“Catch anything?”

“-Course”

“What?”
“Two deer and a moose?”

“What did you do with the animals?”
“Not sure- wonder if the outfitter took them home-“

“What a waste- you should of donated that meat- something.”

“Well, sweetheart, you just didn’t do that back then.”

“Hmm”

“Now do you remember?”
“No- sorry, I don’t.  Wish I did. My claim to fame and I didn’t even know it. I often wondered, you know, if the reason I was on the earth came and went with out me knowing it. D’you know what I mean? I think He does it on purpose though, you know, so you keep going at it, trying to be purposeful. What was yours?”

“Writing”

“Don’t you think that’s too easy? I don’t think your profession can be you purpose.”

“Yours was �"sass”

“I was helping people”

“It appears you helped one of them straight into the fiery depths of hell-“

“Not my fault- the pilot had a heart attack.”

“Tell me-“

“He just yelped; like he’d been stuck by a pin. Then he slumped over into the collective- power dropped and we started weaving. Thank god he flies like he’s in a goddam jet liner- outer perimeter of space for chrissake. But we were high. I tried to take over-tried to sit on top of him- take over- didn’t work; well it worked for a while- but the landing is what got us- petal use and all- we came in too hot and dug the left skid in the ground. Almost had it though and then tipped right over- BAM- dead. You know what they say: flying -optional: landing-mandatory….funny.

“ Did it hurt?”

“Well, you’ve crashed a few times- did it hurt?”

“Hell- like the worst pain- came from my heart though- so scared I crapped my pants- you didn’t hear about that- my body just numbed itself- my heart- its what hurt.”

“ I’m glad I didn’t live - pure vanity- would you want to walk around looking like a basted turkey?”

“Wish I’d of died”

“Well,.. you did!

“In the crash”

“ crashes

“Yes, well... so you say”

 

****

 

“You don’t remember, huh?”

“No, sir- sorry.”
“You were such a cute little thing. Just stared at me. Watched me talk to the cashier. I thought for sure you were going to ask me something.”

“Like what?”
“Like why I was such an a*s. Why I did the things I did. Why I hated my women so much, why I loved them more. I thought about writing you- you know- The Great Catharsis.”

“And? Am I hidden somewhere in your dialogue? I’ve read you. Can’t seem to recall any beret-wearing rug rats anywhere.”

“Couldn’t actually.“

“Ha! Really. Too little-

“No- too great-“
“Great?”
“You are what I could never be.”

“Which is?”
“Good.”
“Good hmm?  … I killed three people last week when I might’ve not. Might’ve landed that goddam aircraft. I yelled at my kids before I left for work and was mad at my husband for... Not. F*****g. “Getting Me.” how…in the F**K… am I good?”

“Sweetheart; sweetie, don’t cry- sorry, seem to make all the women in my life cry.”

****

“So, why are you still here?”
“Penance, I suppose.”
“You’ve been here since the beginni- …end?”
“Yes”

“What do we do?”
“Enjoy ourselves- cream?”

“Yes- please. Do you know everyone here?”
“Most- had time to acquaint myself with those two over ther--- “

“---Do you hear that? Those voices?”

“No”
“My kids! I can hear them! Ah- there’s my daughter! She’s singing with her alarm; has one of those iPod deals, you know, it shuffles your songs. She always sings when she wakes up feeling good.  Feeling ok then: she’s singing! Can we always hear like that?”
“I hear some, not much any more-“

“They’ll be ok right?”
“Well, I can’t tell you-“
“- they’ll be fine. I know it.”

****

“You’re a very handsome man.”
“Thanks”

“You look like your reputation.”

“Like?”
“A real swashbuckler: Jungle hunter, womanizer; tortured soul. I wanted to live like you.”

 “What happened?”
“ Got pregnant.”

“Ruined it -huh-“
“NO- redirected. I went to Israel you know, did a dig for six weeks- best coming of age ever!”

“Your Jewish?”
“Ha! No- Lutheran.”

“Tell me”

“I met a gal- still is my friend today- haven’t seen her for thirteen years. We used to sit up and talk about; like, the future. Anyway- Stella that was her name- and there was another Stella so they were called Stella #1 and Stella #2!, we’d quander and peruse and wonder ad nauseum  over what we wanted in life- that typical conflict of having a white picket fence life- simple and easy- or traveling: like you did, just seeing things, being in the great beyond. Well, I ordered up a white picket fence and she took the slice of adventure pie. Sort of fitting though, wouldn’t you say, that we each took a path and reported back afterward. I think it was for the best, I wouldn’t have been a very good Hemingway anyway.”

“I lived that contradiction. It was hell. I’d settle in, be content and then the bedbugs, they’d come a-callin’ and I’d have to get up-go.”

“Like restless leg syndrome-“

“Sure-”

“So -you want to hear a great love story?!”

“I’d rather not.”

“No it’s great! So we had a bunch of Israeli’s from the area that all did these digs basically for a living. Anyway, there was this one guy-very stoic, reserved. Didn’t say much. Stella commented one day that he was so surly with her- how can a guy who doesn’t talk be surly?- I joked with her that he must like her- like in junior high. So that was the joke. Anyway, we stayed at the dig site one weekend- because they’d kick us out of the hostel on the weekends- the trailer was parked right there where we’d wash pot shards, but anyway, she made a comment of needing to get washing done, so he offered to take her laundry back to Jerusalem with him. He did her laundry! Complete with bluing the whites- actually I think he blued everything, and used too much, because her shirts had a nice powder blue hue to them!! Ha! So funny! Short story made way too long- he was in love with her! They dated for years after! ...I often wonder about him- the rest of them.”

“They still together?”
“No- but she married another Israeli.”

“How many of them fell in love with you?”
“How very particular of you- no one. No one really noticed me at all: the bane of my existence. My truest sin, you know, always wanting to be noticed while hiding in the bushes and feeling guilty about wanting to be noticed. It’s like a narcissist exorcised my shy inner catholic-y sanctum and they’ve been waging war ever since. Sort of a full on contradiction: wanting, wanting, wanting….”

“Oh, I could tell you a thing or two about narcissism…and wanting…”

Did you really love that nurse? So much?”
“I did, but she was like you- too many morals and ethics- wanted me to be a better man.”

“She didn’t ‘make you want to be a better man’?!”

I gave him that line- its mine you know- basically hit him over the head with it- He was sitting on the john- early in the morning reading his script- and I like the guy- a lot- reminds me of a better me- and he was stewing and stumbling and so-WHAM- I whispered it in his ear. Voila- now he’s a star.”

“ So you think I have all these ethics and morals huh- why?”
“I’ve watched you- you are so,.. so faithful in people. So, willing to expect the best of them.”

“No- totally not true. Way off!  Ya know..I am a opto-phobe. I hate optimism- it’s useless. I think that- I’m a realist. I expect the worst in people- hope for the best.”

“Sass- you yell so loud about what you think you are- you’re a precious, precious girl- I still remember you smiling at me- that dimple- you cocked your head to the side and smiled at me. I thought you were going to take my hand. I tried to ignore you, kept talking to the cashier. But I couldn’t help myself. I knelt down to you and smiled and asked you your name, you told me- just like that- and then told me you had to wait while your mom caught your brother. He was being ‘disagreeable’ you said.”

“My poor mom-“

“I didn’t like her- “
“My mom was a good woman- very sturdy and…”

“ I’m sure- but… you told me you just got out of the hospital- that you almost died�"“
“Oh- yea, I am allergic to peanuts and my dad found that out by giving me a peanut butter sandwich… wow-I was 3 then!”

“I wanted a girl like you.”

“You had girls didn’t you?”
“Yea, sort of- but not like you.”

“Well, you have to put in to get out.”
“Touché…….. Its time for whiskey.”

“Amen brother.”

“Two?”

Three.”

“Atta girl.”

Are you an alcoholic?”

“I suppose.”

“Still?”
“Nah- “

“So- we just wait and sip.”

“Yep”

“Every afternoon?”

“Yup”

“What changes?”

“The people. Some of us stick around, some go in.”

“What do you have to do?”
“Interview well”

“Ha! Great-”
“Sass- you’ll be fine.”

“You- do you ever think you’ll get in?”

“Honestly- sweetheart, I hope so. I didn’t used to, you know, finger to the big man keeping me down, not going to take His cup o’ tea. But…”

“He is right you know.”

“Yea?”

“Yea-“

“How do you know?”
“I don’t know- just do.”

“It’s a hard pill to swallow-“

“Ah- but It’ll make you feel better. It’s not s’posed to be easy. Think of all the things that you’ve done that are hard: war, writing; marriage. But you did them. So- do this.”

“Do this- huh.”

“Yep. Look at this; this is di-rectly from the hand of The Man.”

 

 She fingered the corner of the pamphlet handed to them: specific, syntactic; gilded:

REDEMPTION: KNOW IT

TEN EASY STEPS

TAKE THE FIRST ONE…

 

“Its laziness, you know- you people spit and moon about religion being the apex of all evil- which it can be- then wander around aimlessly searching all the time. You know what your searching for?-“

“The truth sass-“

“Exactly- but the truth- the real truth- no one wants to hear. It requires too much work; too much responsibility: it requires… it requires me to shut up and listen, and feel no entitlement for the good things that come my way. Look at all of us here- we should have no qualms about crossing through those gates. But look at people- they aren’t sure!”

“Listen up �"sass- the interview hasn’t started yet- and I think the Right Hand of God had already been filled..”

“You’re the one who is still here….”

“…I knew, from the moment I met you- you would be like a stiff drink of whiskey.”

“Well, drink up then.”

****

The breeze was melodic and soothing. It wafted and caressed the bare legs of the women and rippled the pant legs of the men. It smelled of sweetgrass and chanted its own prayer. The wrought iron tables matched the chairs matted coloring and tippy all around. Folded napkins edged into the damned voids, and teacups and mugs wobbled around and screamed their own bloody survival cry. The trees saluted the sun on one side; their shade making love to the sidewalk on the other.

The concrete wasn’t. The space undefined; the ambiance shifting; gravitating to the whims of the moment.

And the people sat. Sat and cried. Stood and mulled. Paced and acquiesced: drinking and eating and watching and waiting.

There were moles everywhere. Watching for that moment and then the name would be chipper-ly siphoned into the master database and re-categorized. These were the sycophants: their standby ticket secured with irrefutable adherence to The Rules.

The two sat stubbornly; squared-off and tee’d off; one knowing better, the other knowing no other way. Wary and oblivious to the creaking of the giant metal gate.

The old man came out: came and pointed with his beckoning finger: long, jointed, tan, and worn with deliberation.

“So,.. when we met. I seemed to have made an impression on you.”

“Yea- you did.”

“It was good?”
“Yea- it was…”

“That’s why you came over?”
“Yea- I was sad to see you here and so damned happy you were.”

“Damned happy… I knew who you were when you walked over here, knew you.”

“You know, sweetheart; I didn’t recognize you at all- I just knew: felt, it was you. Like…”

“…It was meant to be?”

“Yea- like The Great Catharsis was going to finally come to a startling and conclusive end.”

“Why do ya suppose? All this?”

“ I think… because God works like a damned fool.”

“Foolish huh.”

“Well, either damned or foolish, either way He gets us here.

“I don’t think He’s foolish.”

“No. Sass. Neither do I.”

© 2013 SJ


Author's Note

SJ
Tell me what you think....

My Review

Would you like to review this Story?
Login | Register




Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

101 Views
Added on April 2, 2013
Last Updated on April 2, 2013

Author

SJ
SJ

About
Mother/Wife Flight Paramedic/Teacher Pessimist/Realist Do-good-er/Church-goer skier/runner/swimmer/biker/yogi/wannabe-er Observer/Perceiver more..

Writing
A Case of the Blogs A Case of the Blogs

A Story by SJ


Mirth Mirth

A Story by SJ