Saturday, July 20, 2013

SHORT STORY: Track 12 – Tell Me When

Track 12 – Tell Me When

What is the point? I stand up from my bath which I was hoping to relax me, but I have grown used to disappointment. I stand there and let most of the beads of water drip off, they want nothing to do with me and I can’t blame them; join the party. I reach for my towel and finish drying up, this is my daily routine, work, bathe, sleep alone. Day after day after day, when does life begin, because this certainly is not a life.

This is no way for a thirty-five year old woman to live; I should have children by now to love me, or at least a husband. I would settle for anyone at this point, faithful or not, just someone to talk to. I look at my exposed self in the mirror and I can’t help but think it is laughing at me. Who is this fool, the mirror says, she lost all that weight so that someone would find her attractive, but still no one wants her. The mirror is right.

I step out of my bathroom onto the carpet of my bedroom; the only other room in my miniscule apartment besides the kitchen. I don’t even have enough room in my apartment to have anyone else in my life. I need to get out of here; this place will not be my final tomb. I throw on a t-shirt and jeans, dressing to impress, yeah right. I reach for my keys and in doing so I knock my phone off the receiver and onto the floor. Should I pick it up? Why the hell should I, who is going to call anyway? I leave the phone, leave through my front door, and close the door loudly behind me.

“I hate you,” I scream to the door, aiming my words at the apartment, but my life and myself earned some of those words too. I put my key in the knob to lock it up but then I pull my hand away. I will just leave those there so that it is easier on whoever has to clean it out, God forbid I inconvenience anyone to the point of calling a locksmith.

I walk to the curb where my car was resting and I start it up, it too sounds like it’s on its last breath. It sputters and rocks and we are off. I am not sure where I am headed, and I really don’t care, I know the right place will present itself as long as I am looking. I start by driving around my dark neighborhood, looking into my own eyes in the rearview mirror. You really are nothing to look at even for myself; why would anyone else want you? I take to the deserted highway and under the lonely moon my car moves along for eight miles before giving up all together. Just what I needed, a stalled car in the middle of nowhere, but was this my sign?

Just in front of me was an overpass to a river below. Coincidence that I am stopped right here, or simply fate? I can just ease off and end it all, and no one would know; or care. Just as quickly as I am forgotten I can be gone, and why else would God stop me right here? I can do this.

I leave my car and approach the edge of oblivion. I can hear the rush of water below and even in its fury it seems tranquil. I can do this, this can be how my life begins; with the end. Just hold your breath and let go. I step up onto the guard rail and I can feel the breeze of the night caress me. It is chilly, but none of that will matter soon; one last exhilarating plunge. Just let go, you can do this, you earned it.

I can’t. I didn’t earn it, I didn’t earn anything. I just got dealt a hand of life and the house always wins. I can never do it, I am not brave enough, and in fact I am not anything enough. Not thin enough, not beautiful enough, not smart enough. I am maybe sad and hopeless enough, but then again if it was enough I should be able to follow through.

I retreat back to my car and pick up my cell phone. I flip through the numbers on my speed dial and punched in the tow truck company I have become a regular of. I told them where I was and I sat in my car for twenty minutes until they arrived.

The driver was an older, balding, somewhat muscular man and to be honest it was good to just have someone else there, even if it was just to load my car onto a hitch and drive us somewhere to fix it; perhaps that is why I go out for my midnight rides all the time?

During the ride back to the shop, I sat in the cab with the driver and I tried my best to look enticing, but I am such an amateur he paid no mind, why would he, he was probably married with kids and a whole handful of people who cared about him. We pulled in and after the mechanic looked over the car he informed me that I was just out of gas. Perhaps I was aware that I was running low on fuel, perhaps not, but this was the third time in the past six months this mechanic told me the same thing. I paid him and the driver for their services and I went on my way; this was my life, and this was my social interaction.

I decided to just head home when I came to a red light. While idling and waiting my turn, I noticed the neon glow of a bar that had just opened up. A new bar I thought, that means a whole new crew of men whom look the other way, but at the same time they never saw the skinny me. Maybe I can meet someone? What’s the worst that can happen, I head home miserable; already there.

I pull into the partially filled parking lot and enter the bar. The air smells musky, but the bar had not yet been tainted by the smell of sour beer; give it a few more weeks of spills. I sat at the bar and smiled at the bartender who nodded back. He asked me what I will have, and I said I needed a moment to decide. Playing games, I know, but I wanted someone to buy me a drink. Never in my life has someone bought me a drink, and I needed this. Just one drink, just a few bucks and I will feel like I have started a new chapter. Please.

My wait turns into ten minutes, and then twenty minutes, and as I smile at everyone in the bar they all turn their heads. I could understand no one looking my way when I was fat, but I am thin now, I thought life would change. Why did I bother putting in all that work on this body? Am I not thin enough? Is it just my natural look? Is my nose too big? Am I too old? They aren’t much younger; someone has to at least acknowledge me. Even the guy sitting alone by the bar won’t look at me twice. Him, he is a little husky, has a full reddish beard, and short reddish hair. He is kind of cute, but certainly no catch, even by my low standards, and he won’t even look at me? Perhaps I should have taken the jump.

Wait, why am I waiting? I waited my whole life, I deserve better. Screw the house always winning; I am going to make my own luck. I stand up and almost knock the bar stool over behind me, but I don’t care. I walk over to the bearded man of solitude with as much confidence as I could muster and I take a seat next to him.

“I would like to buy you a drink,” I said as I flag down the bartender.

“Well alright sweetie,” he said somewhat uncharacteristically effeminate. “I’ll take it, but y’all know what type of bar this is right?”

Just my luck I let my head fall in defeat. What kind of cruel sense of humor does God have? I knew better than to think it was that easy. “Tell me when does life begin, or better yet, tell me when it ends?”

He sees the tears run down my cheek and places a meaty arm around my shoulder. “There now, don’t fuss yourself over me,” he said sweetly as he patted my shoulder. “You know what, my brother is on his way here to pick me up and he is not like me in one regard, and I think he would just love to buy you a drink.”

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