Monday, September 1, 2014

Inward; Part Two

You're staring at your hands while you listen to the tiny old woman clear her throat. She's about to tell you something. A reason to all this madness would be nice you think. What is she going to say? What is going on? Why do these employees keep asking you if you need something? An answer is what you want to tell them. A freaking answer. She is out of the recliner chair and motions at you to follow her. She leads you through a large metal door with blinking red lights surrounding it. You're on an airplane runway now. She stops walking. It's quiet now. You're about to ask her what's going on when she tells you to keep quiet. For the your sake, you do as she says. You're quiet. Your breathing slows down. Your lungs expand one Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi, seven Mississippi, ten Mississippi. They compress fifteen Mississippi, twenty four Mississippi, one thousand and fifty four Mississippi. What's your name again? You can't remember. A man was holding it on a sign at the airport a while ago. How did you recognize it? Or were you just desperate for some attention? You can't remember. The tiny old woman grabs your hand. She whispers something in your ear. Just wait she says you'll be out of here soon. Her mouth didn't move though. How did she do that. Could she read minds? Can you read minds you think. Yes she says. What's going on here? What are we waiting for? Your ride is almost here she says. You're getting out of here. You're going far far away from here. But the ocean and the wolf you can't just leave them. They were you friends. You will make more friends. You will swim in cleaner waters and with more loyal wolves. A bus pulls up and you and the old woman climb into it. The lady takes a safety pin out of her pocket, pricks her finger, and drips two drops of blood on to the floor of the bus. The bus drinks up the woman's blood and her wound heals. She takes your hand as you look for seats we must all make sacrifices she says. There are many people on the bus. They wear business suits and talk to each other their words backwards. You notice the way they sit. Their backs straight feet planted firmly on the floor, eyes unblinking holding intense contact with their partner. Every now and then one of the partners won't say anything. All the conversations will then stop and the there will be a quiet null that oozes through the bus. Then someone will say something again and everyone is back to their backwards talk. What are they talking about? They talk about the weather, what Debbie did at the staff meeting, where they're taking their wives for their birthdays, the ending of Lost, D-list celebrities, what kind of cereal they switched to last Monday, what their neighbor told them, what grade their child got on their mathematics exam, new remedies for baggy eyes. They compare their suits, their shoes, their kids, their spouses, their incomes, their time shares, their majors, their minors. They talk, but they don't listen. They listen, but they don't understand. They understand, but they don't care.
The road is now bumpy and the bus seems to be both in and out of control. The bus is driving through a path in a forest. The branches of trees are scraping the windows. The driver you now notice is a tiny old man with glasses larger than his face. He looks like a giant pair eyes now that you think of it. His feet barely reach the pedals. The old woman you're with is facing in his direction focusing on the driver. Maybe their friends. Maybe they spend their weekends together watching cooking shows. They don't seem like bad people. They don't seem like anything. You're ears finally pick up on music playing in the bus. What is it? It sounds like a viola. You once heard one in a school performance. The girl held it's bow to the instrument the way a chef holds a knife to an onion. She would cut into it and like the odor of an onion, the sound would bring tears to your eyes whether you wanted them to or not. Where is the girl? Does she still play? There is a screeching noise and then it is quiet. The bus has come to a full stop. The business suited people get up and into a single file line. They're still talking backwards, but they keep their voices low. Outside of the bus is a doe. It is waiting for all the people to step outside of the bus. The tiny woman beside you tells you it's not quite time to leave you must stay on the bus. Once all the people are out of the bus, the doe stands on her hind legs. She is looking at all the people. She sniffs all of them. Randomly she'll push one or two of them to the floor. They will struggle under her, but she is persistent. One of them cries. The doe is annoyed and walks over to them. Her eyes are big and black. She stares into their eyes and they are hard as a rock. How is she doing that? She's just a doe? They could easily take her down, but they don't and that worries you. They follow they doe into the forest. The woman tells you that it will all make sense in time. The engine starts up again and the bus is in motion. It is going deeper into the forest. It's getting dark and you think about the ocean and the wolf. You wonder where they are and what they're doing. Maybe they've forgotten about you already. Found someone else to swim with them. You're mad at them now. If they cared about you and loved you why didn't they want you to stay. The lady on the bus holds your hand. Her hand is warm. You close your eyes. There is a crashing noise, but this time you don't bother to see what it is. There is a shattering noise, but you continue to not look. It is cold now. The warmth of the lady's hand fades. It is replaced by something that is hard and cold. There is a thud noise. There is another thud noise. Don't open your eyes a voice says. It is low and a little on the raspy side. You don't open your eyes. What are you you say to the voice. You are calm. Walk towards my voice. The voice is coming from the left.
You open your eyes you are alone. Can you see me the voice says. You're looking around there is nothing. Come on look harder you're right in front of it it tells you. You take a step back. There is a faint outline of a man. He is tall and transparent. You can see where he starts and ends, but the details in between are unclear. Who are you you ask. Where is the old woman. This is no time for questions. Why is everyone in such a rush what's happening. Stop asking questions if you already know the answers. But you don't know the answers you tell him defensively. You can't remember how you even got here. You can't remember your name. Lower your voice. Louder, no. Angry now, lower your voice. Louder, why. Yelling now, I will end you if you don't lower your voice you arrogant swine I will carve you up and I will sell your parts don't test me I have seen the world and all that is beyond you can not see me because you cannot see anything. You just want to get out of here. You want to go back to the life you had before this. Things were easy then. Your decisions were made for you you never had to worry. Do you want your life back the man asks. You think about that one. 

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