Sunday 8 June 2014

Difficulty level twelve.

I know this isn't what you wanted
Past words in the present are haunting us now
And on and on and on and on
My heartbeat could tell you it's urgent
I try to shout but the words don't come out
I feel I'm slipping away
I lay in a chair on the front porch this morning, scowling at whoever tried to get between me and a mugful of coffee and Louis and Ella on the record player. I play for the trees, I think to myself and everyone and everything else can fuck right off. I took another sip and when I put it down I realized Sam was on the other side of the screen door watching me.

He asked if it was safe to come out and I laughed and said no. He said that was a shame, that he would like to bring his coffee out too and listen to records. I reminded him there's another record player inside, there's actually three or four depending on Dalton's need for expensive needles and headphones. He's retrofitted a basic player into some high end sound device that makes me wonder exactly how much I am missing out with my defective ears.

But Sam isn't interested in letting me off the hook today, because last night I got a little weird and a little needy with August because he hasn't had a haircut or a shopping trip in a long time and he is as close to Jake as I can get this side of heaven. Ben had already written me off for my defection in letting Caleb go ahead and grant a bucket wish on the same weekend Ben worked so hard to pull the Big One off for me and Lochlan opted to just shut down completely, deciding to gut and redo the camper interior and then probably sell this one too and buy another. He says he's bringing them back to life, giving them another chance to be a romantic hideaway for someone or a home for someone else. The worse condition they're in, the more he likes them and the better he can make them look but really I have no interest in sitting in the blinding sun in the driveway while the light and the wind burn the rest of my senses away and he starts talking about all the things I do wrong, itemizing my flaws as if I can just magically wake up and decide to be different or better the next morning. I asked if he wanted to go find different or better because I would always be the same and also worse and he laughed and asked if there was anyone I don't hold a torch for, after seeing such a display when August surprised me, showing up after telling me he wouldn't be out until fall.

Yep, you, I told him, just to be mean.

Good. Me neither, he said and then shot me a look to make sure I wasn't serious and then he kept unscrewing the cabinet frames from the wall, essentially shutting me out again. I took the hint and went inside where PJ decided I had gotten in enough trouble for one brief morning and again, what a piece of work, and then he called me Work for the rest of the morning, giving me chores like peeling hard boiled eggs (a dozen at a time when we make them) and actually Talking To Joel, two things I work so hard to get out of most rotations, when my name comes up to do the shit chores like those.

But then I did it and I felt bitter and spoiled and so I took my crappy little self outside, effectively removing the negative energy from the house. It had to stop somewhere though. Joel reminded me to distract myself from the thoughts that eat me alive and sometimes he's actually good at me.

I nodded to Sam. Come out and sit with me. Ella's making everything better. 

I like her better than Randy Blythe, Sam said. Lamb of God is fine and all but Ella's just so...swell. 

Yeah. I hope someone says that about me someday. 

That you're sweller than Randy Blythe? 

No, that I can make everything better for someone. 

You do. You don't see it. Things are magnified for you right now but they won't be forever, and we're all grateful for you every waking moment. 

Sam, are you lying because it's your job?

No, I'm lying because you're technically my landlady. 

But I'm not. I'm a tenant here too. 

You're a spectre here sometimes, Bridget. You hang on to the dead instead of the living. 

I can make them say what I want to hear. 

That isn't how life works. 

I know. But I wish it was.