Happy Birthday Eternity (14 page)

I’m on my feet and nose to nose with him.

I feel a thousand years of regret boiling inside of me.

‘You’re a real asshole.’

He looks confused.

‘I love my wife.’

And my fist goes back.

I feel the adrenaline.

And there’s a popping sound as his nose breaks.

Then I’m alone.

In my old office.

There’s dust hanging in the air.

Something feels wrong.

25

As I sit at my old desk in my old office, I feel a brush against my neck.

It’s Evaline.

The one from my head.

She kisses me on the cheek.

I tell her to go home. 

I don’t want her memory to be around me.  Not now.

She asks if I’m ok.

I tell her no.

She asks if I need anything.

I tell her that things will be fine. 

She asks me why I’m acting so strangely. 

I can’t give her an answer. 

She leaves.

26

I’m in the building and I can feel the dust as it settles in my lungs.  It makes my chest ache and my eyes sting.

I look around and everything is run down.

Light fixtures hang from the ceiling.

The walls are cracked.

Dust covers every surface.

The windows are boarded up but sunlight still peaks through.

And I look around, making a note that this is exactly where my old workstation was.

I cover my mouth with my sleeve and try my hardest to hold my lungs inside my body.  Then I realize that my sleeve is getting damp. 

I pull my hand away.

I feel my heart in my throat.

My ears are ringing.

Blood has soaked through.

I need more light, and so I go to one of the windows.  I pull at the wood that someone has loosely nailed to the cracked walls.  It breaks off easily and light floods into the room. 

I’m squinting for a second before I finally open my eyes.

It causes my head to ache. 

I catch my reflection in the window. 

I look like hell.

I look around the room.

It looks like hell.

The building is tattered and broken.  Rodent shit covers the floor. 

I walk around and hope for a clue.  I’m hoping for something to hold onto.  Something to keep me going. 

I start to wander.

My footsteps kick up dust until my lungs start to ache.

I stumble forward and lean against a metal door that’s spotted with rust.  I pause and try to remember where it goes.  I can’t remember, but still I turn the knob. 

It’s the old cafeteria. 

I walk in with the expectation that my brain will send me to another day and time.  Instead I find myself standing around and admiring the room.

It’s full of cots.

They’re abandoned.

Covered in dust and chewed at by the rodents that now call this place a home. 

Everything is aging and falling apart.  

I back out of the room.

This place is abandoned and I’m not going to find anything.

Still I search.

I go upstairs.

All the sunlight is fading. The building, the place where I made so many memories, it’s full of shadows. 

I run my fingers on the wall and make a trail.  I pull them away and they’re caked in dust.

I sneeze and my eyes burn worse than they did before.

I’m on the third floor with only half a notion as to where I’m headed. 

These halls, they used to be busy; now they’re dead.

My head feels light and I imagine that it’s from a loss of blood. 

My knees feel weak and I imagine that it’s because I’m scared of the future.

And I go through a door to what used to be a conference room.

It’s just like I remember it. 

And this is where Dylan had me tied up.

But it’s different now.  Worn and battered by time. 

I step inside and a soft light trickles from a skylight that I hadn’t noticed until now.

And I wonder what I should do next.

And it’s a nervous twisting of nervous fingers.

And then my skull aches as I fall to the floor.

27

They say that you're only as good as what you can take.  So why am I taking this again?

And I yell:  ‘Fuck off you asshole.’

And then I feel a tooth go loose as the back of my skull starts to do a shimmy and a shake.

I start thrashing around, wildly.

My body aches and I can feel blood dripping from my smashed-in face.  I yell again.  Louder.  No one listens.  Louder.  No one responds.

Another fist and my brains are starting to feel like syrup in my skull.  And it's a pause and a breathe and a nervous twisting of nervous fingers as I feel my skull bounce against a wall. 

Dylan asks if I'm ready to listen.  If I’m ready to change.  If I’m ready to acknowledge that everything ends.

28

When I come to I’m in a heap on the hallway floor.  I feel dizzy and shaky.  I feel as if things have gone horribly wrong.

And then I realize that they have.

So I push myself up off the floor. 

My arms feel weak just like my head.

I lurch forward.  Throw up.  Gag on the acidic taste of bile that sticks to my tongue.  It’s at this point that I realize I’m starving. 

It takes some time but I finally make my way off the ground and out the door.

I stumble: winded and sucking the air like a fish out of water.

I lean against the wall with sweat that causes my clothes to hug me tighter than Evaline has in a thousand years.

I’m bleeding and a mess.

I’ve never felt like this in all my existence. 

I knew that things would get worse.  The doctor told me that things were going to get worse.  I just didn’t want to believe it. 

And it takes me a minute to find some balance, but eventually I head back to the stairs.  Back towards the exit.  Back towards fresh air and reality.

I walk close to the wall and feel as if I’m going to fall to the ground at any moment. 

As I’m walking I notice that my finger markings are already gone from the wall.  They’re covered by dust.

When I get to the stairs I can hardly see.  The building is getting darker.  Night is stealing away the light that had slipped in. 

My footsteps are echoing.

And as I get to the ground floor I hear the sound of something breaking. 

My head snaps around, but there’s nothing to see; it’s too dark.

And then I hear footsteps.

I look around but can’t make anything out in the shadows.

And so I start moving for the exit.

My joints ache as I keep myself low to the ground.

I’m distracted by the shuffling of feet. 

They’re getting closer.

And then I hear something else break.

I stand up and run.

For a moment I wonder if it’s Evaline that I’m running from.  I wonder but I don’t want to find out.  For all I know it could be a security guard.  For all I know, it could be Dylan.

I pause when I get to the door.  My hand lingers for a fraction of a second, and it’s almost as if I can feel the time passing me.

Then I’m out the door.

The night is cold.

The stars are shining.

I’m running when I need to be going back.

And it’s at this point that I realize that this isn’t something I can do on my own.  I need help.

And so I start towards Franklin’s. 

29

I’m out of breath and on a park bench.

I just threw up twice in a trash can. 

My muscles ache and burn as I sit here with legs that throb.  I’m feeling the exhaustion of the last few days kick in.

I feel as if I’ve been awake for years.

And I can’t seem to fight my eyes as they fall shut.

I dream of Evaline.

And in this dream we’re newlyweds with fingers that tangle like the sheets of our bed.

I tell her that I love her.

She tells me that she loves me.

And I know that we both mean it, because in this dream we’re both too young to be afraid of love.

And in this dream we both age.

Our skin wrinkles and hangs from our bones.

We become weaker and weaker with each and every year.

And we don’t mind the gray hair.

And we don’t mind the passing of time.

And we’re both hunched over as we walk the streets together.

We both know that death is coming.

But it’s ok, because we’re with each other. 

30

When I wake up I’m still on the park bench and I’m feeling hung-over.  Ear bleeding, gut twisting, sweaty palmed; hung-over.  It hurts to open my eyes, and I’m not sure if that’s because I don’t want to let go of my dream or because my brain is half gone.

But, anyway; I take a moment and then stumble to my feet. 

The sun is starting to rise and the birds are starting to sing. 

I have to squint so that I can see clearly, and it’s when I’m squinting that I realize how much I’ve fallen apart.  My body is betraying me, or maybe I’m betraying my body.

Regardless; I’m in shambles.

I’m in shambles and I need Franklin.

I need Franklin to be a friend.

To help me make sense of things.

To have my back.

But first I have to piss. So, I search out a public restroom and pinch my nose in disgust as the overwhelming stench of the tattered bathroom grabs hold of my gut. 

There is grime that has been here for 100 years or more.

And I try not to breathe.

I piss and attempt to keep my mind off of this room that I’m in. 

And then my feet go out from under me. 

And the world, it moves sideways.

31

Things look strange where I am.

My muscles are tense.

My vision is blurred.

I hear things but it’s all muffled.

And then I look at my hands.

They’re shaking with a confused flood of emotion. 

I don’t know when I am.  I don’t know where I am.  And when I squint hard I can see Evaline sitting in a chair across from me.  She sits and looks out the window.  Out into the night.  Out into the darkness.  She has a smile on her face as she watches the stars in the sky.

I want to stand up and give her a hug.  I try to say something to her.  But this is a memory that I can’t seem to manipulate. 

And so I sit here with my tired body and watch as she looks toward the eve.

And I think of all the stars that have come and gone before I ever realized they had been alive.

And she moves her eyes from the window to me.

I strain to see through my blurred vision.

She’s not wearing make-up. 

Her hair isn’t dyed.

Her skin isn’t tan.

She is aged. 

And she comes over to me.

Things start to come into focus.

32

When I come to; I’m walking. 

I’m almost to Franklin’s house.

I feel shaken.

Shaken because I don’t know if I was dreaming or remembering.

I can’t make sense of it.

And as my weighted feet carry me forward, I start to wonder if I’ll ever regain control of my body and my mind.  I start to wonder if I’ll ever be in control of myself. 

I stumble for a moment and catch my breath.

I should be worried about the fact that I have no recollection of how I got to this particular place. 

In some ways I feel as if I’ve begun to give up on myself.

When I finally get to Franklin’s place, I start to feel a nervous sort of rush wash over my body.  It feels as if I’ve been here in this moment a thousand times before, but I suppose that’s what happens when you’ve lived a life as long as me.  Things start to jumble together.