Happy Birthday Eternity (15 page)

BOOK: Happy Birthday Eternity
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Things start to repeat. 

I stand for a moment and stare at his front door. 

I want to knock but it’s as if my fist is weighted down.  It’s as if my body is refusing me.  So instead I look at the door with blank eyes. 

I’m waiting for something to happen.

Waiting for my muscles to take control.

And finally my hand lifts.

And finally I knock.

I hear a rustling inside and I watch as the door handle jiggles. 

And then my gut feels as if it’s on fire.  My entire body soaks itself in a sense of dread. 

And it’s a pause.

A breath.

And Franklin’s wife answers the door.  She doesn’t say a word as she stands looking at me with a face that betrays more sadness than I have seen in all my years.  She looks at me and her lips open in a failed attempt to speak.

And then the fire in my gut, it spreads to my body.

I look at her and open my mouth:

‘Are you ok?’

She shakes her head and tears roll from her eyes. 

She shakes her head and her body starts to shake.

She shakes her head and I feel lost.

And it takes a minute, but she finally regains composure.  Hands to face; she dries her eyes and looks me over.

‘Why are you here?’

I’m starting to wonder if maybe she finally caught Franklin cheating on her.  I’m wondering if she finally hit a breaking point and decided to cut through the denial that has been weighing her down for several hundred years. 

But I know that’s not it.

I pause.

She asks again.

‘What are you doing here?’

Her voice is stern and tired.

Her voice is gentle and in shock.

I can’t seem to find any words that fit this moment.  Every syllable seems to be like a jigsaw piece that does not fit. 

It’s a nervous twisting of nervous fingers and finally I open up my mouth.  I open up my mouth and I ask her where Franklin is. 

She steps back.

Her face scrunches.

Her chest rises and falls.

And that weight that her body had betrayed to me; I can feel it too.

‘Why are you doing this?’

And she asks this with a genuine concern in her voice.  She asks this with a gait that moves in a sad rhythm.

‘Doing what?’

And she looks at me with  puzzled eyes.  She stares at me as if I’ve lost my mind and I want to tell her she’s right.  But I suppose there’s no point in stating the obvious.

Her words come out in a hushed anger.

‘Coming around here and asking for him like that.  How could you do that?  Why would you do that?  You know that he’s been dead for years.’

And it’s at this moment that I feel the hollow nature of my chest as all the breath escapes from it. 

 

33

 

‘Look, you knew that my past was going to catch up to me at some point.  I thought I could outrun it forever, but that wasn’t true.  I slowed down.  I faltered.  And all my yesterdays, they took everything.’

This is Franklin.

This is my best friend.

He’s just a memory.

Like my wife.

‘We all have to reckon with our life at some point.  Unfortunately it just wasn’t something I could handle.’

He’s been dead for years. 

He shot himself in the head.

He used a rifle.

The stain on the wall eventually came out.  But not before his wife figured out how to let go of everything.

‘I couldn’t make things work.’

Franklin is dead and I don’t know what that means.

I’m standing outside. 

On the sidewalk.

‘There wasn’t a funeral because my wife didn’t think to have one.’

And he knows this because I know this, but for the life of me, I can’t seem to remember any of it.

I sit down on a bench. 

He sits next to me.

‘I was caught cheating.  I was caught and she threatened to leave me.  It wasn’t something that I could deal with.  It wasn’t something that I wanted to deal with.  And no matter how hard I tried, she wouldn’t listen to me.  She wouldn’t take any of my explanations.  I couldn’t fix any of it.’

And Franklin was an asshole.

‘I tried to make things right.  I tried to pretend that things were going to be ok.  But it was a lie and I knew it and she knew it and we both knew that there was no way we could un-tie the knot that I had spent a millennia tying.’

Franklin was an asshole, but at least he was honest. 

‘So here I am.  Dead except for the part of me that hides away in that fucked up brain of yours.’

And now I’m wondering where I’ve been if he’s dead.  I’m wondering when I am.  I’m panicking because I don’t know where or when I am and I don’t know how long I have or haven’t been here.

‘You know, you always pinch your eyebrows together when you’re nervous or panicking.  It looks like you’re trying to take a shit.’

I laugh.

He laughs.

And I don’t know where I’m going from here.  I just know that I need to go somewhere.  I need to go back to my old office building.

And I don’t care about noises in the dark and I don’t care about being alone when I go there.  Not anymore.

‘You know, you need to stop worrying and just go find her.’

 

34

 

How long has it been since I’ve seen her?

Since I’ve seen my parents.

Since I’ve existed in any sort of ‘normal’ way.

I don’t know. 

I can’t even venture a guess. 

Am I in a memory right now? 

And I feel my muscles aching as I make my way to where I used to work.  My heart is beating a confused beat.

I am overwhelmed.

And when I think of the fact that Franklin is dead, I can almost wrap my head around it.  It means something to me.

And the sadness that I feel from this loss, it makes it hard to move.

Gravity slows me to a crawl.

And my movements make me feel as if I will never get to my old office.

As if I will never get anywhere.

As if I knew where anywhere was.

I don’t even know when I am.

I don’t even know how old I am.

And I think back to everything that has been happening to me.  I think back to everything that I’ve gone through since Evaline disappeared.  And now I’m wondering if she isn’t already dead.

I remember when she first left.

I didn’t understand.

And as things moved forward, I had hoped things had changed.

But I don’t even know if I’ve been moving forward.  Maybe all I’ve done is gone back.

I look to my right.

There’s a field.

There’s a house in the distance.

It looks old and worn down.

It reminds me of something that seems like ancient history. 

It reminds me of a time before the endless process that is staying alive.  It reminds of when I was still in the double digits of age. 

I had gotten lost while camping with my friends.  Jim.  Dave.  People who I have forgotten about over the years. 

I ended up in an old abandoned field.

I was lost and scared and confused.

No one was home and I broke in. 

I found dead bodies. 

That was the only time I had seen someone who was dead. I had forgotten about it until now.  And I’m not sure why I’m now remembering it, but I suspect it’s because of Franklin.  Because death has come back to my life after so many years.

I feel sick.

I keep walking.

Hands in pocket.

Head down.

And with each step, I try not to think about what has happened and what I can no longer remember or what I don’t realize that I am remembering.  I’m simply trying to move forward. 

 

35

 

When I get to the old office building I don’t waste any time. 

I don’t stand and stare at the door.

I just walk in. 

It’s no longer dusty.

It’s cleaned and it’s polished and it doesn’t feel abandoned like it once was.  I start to wonder when I am, I think for a moment and I decide that I don’t care. 

I walk up the stairs. 

To the old conference room that I had been taken hostage in. 

I walk in.

It’s empty.

I go back downstairs. 

Stand in the lobby.

I hear a clicking of feet.

I don’t run.

I don’t move.

I don’t care if it’s a security guard.  It doesn’t matter at this point. 

They’re coming up behind me.

I turn around.

It’s Evaline.

Her skin is wrinkling and being dragged down by the gravity of time.

Her eyes look weathered.

She smiles. 

She’s not how I remembered her and for me, that means the world.

I run to her. 

We kiss. 

It feels right.

 

 

Part IV

 

1

 

And time has passed me by.

Years fade in and out.

Someone whispers:  ‘Watching you rewrite who you are is like watching a poem fall apart.’

 

And I’m at home.  With Evaline.

She’s dying.

She’s leaving me for good.   

And I don’t remember how I got here, but when did that ever matter to me? 

Her body looks frail and her hands are wrinkled.  She’s lying in bed and staring at the ceiling. 

The skin that drapes her body is loose and marked by years of cheating nature. 

The sun is bright as it pushes into the room. 

I’m sitting at the edge of the bed and I’ve got my head in my hands. 

‘So what are we going to do today?’

I ask this with a voice that drags itself from my body against all the weight of my years on this planet.

She smiles a half smile and she opens her mouth. 

‘I don’t know.  Maybe we can stay in bed?’

‘You need to eat.’

‘I’m not hungry.’

‘But you need to eat.  You’re so skinny.  You don’t have any fat at all.’

And it’s true.  Her body has begun to collapse in on itself.  Her cheeks are sunken and so are her eyes.  It’s a strange thing for me to see, but that makes it all the more amazing.  She’s changed and that’s something that I haven’t seen a lot of.

‘Look, I’ll eat, but first I just want you to be here with me.  So stay already.’

And I lean down close.  Kiss her on the forehead.  Smile and look into her eyes.

I missed her even after she came back.

I still miss her in some ways.

But the excitement of what we have now, I’m not sure I can describe it in any way that makes sense. 

And so I stay in bed next to her.  My hand goes to hers and squeezes gently.  She smiles and I smile. 

We watch the world outside our window.

Birds fly.

The sky is motionless.

A wind causes the tree’s to sway.

And now I’m wondering, after all these years; was it worth it?

 

2

 

‘Where the hell have you been?’

We’re still embracing each other in the lobby of my old workplace.  Our bodies press tightly and the pain of loneliness starts to edge away from my skin.

‘I’ve been where I’ve needed to be.’

We pull our heads back.  Look each other in the eyes.

She looks different.  Weathered.  Haunted.

‘Why did you leave me?’

She pulls away.  Looks toward the ground. 

I feel the weight of the situation as it settles into my stomach.

And there’s a moment of confusion that hovers around us.   Because things have changed.  Because we’re not who we were before.  Because we’re not the people who fell in love so many centuries ago.  And I want to tell her that it’s ok.  That we’ve changed but change doesn’t mean we can’t still be together.  It doesn’t mean we can’t make things work.  But, I’m scared and she is too.  I can see it in the way she knots her fingers and tilts her head. 

And then my head throbs.  My eyes ache and there’s a ringing in my ears. 

I look up and my memory of Evaline is standing next to the real Evaline.  They’re wearing the same clothes now, but they’re not the same people.

I look at the younger version of her.  The Evaline that I know.  The Evaline that I missed.  The Evaline that I remember. I look at her and I feel comfort.  I feel closeness.  I feel the warmth that my satisfied longings have brought to me.

She opens her mouth.

‘This isn’t what you wanted and it isn’t what you expected.  You always think that things are going to be just the way you remember them, but you know what?  They’re not going to be that way.  I’ve changed.   And the way that I see it is: You can go off with her and try to figure out how you’re going to make things work with someone who’s just going to die, or you can go and be happy with me.  I’m a memory, but I can make you happy.  I know how to make you happy.’

She smiles and I feel a flush of warmth come over me.

And Evaline, the real one, she looks at me.

‘Are you ok?’

I shake my head.

‘I don’t know.’

‘Look, I know things are different.  I know I ran off.  I know I look old and strange by your standards.  I know these things, but I also know that in our time apart I’ve realized a lot of things.  And, I know that I miss you.  I know that I want you in my life, for however long that is.  I just, I don’t know, we need to be all the things that we never were.’

And she pauses.

‘Because I don’t want to feel trapped like I did before.’

I let the words rest in my head.

And Evaline, the fake one, she says:

‘You can be happy forever with me.  She can’t do that for you anymore.  You know that.  She’s growing older and she’s going to die.  I’m a memory, you can have me forever.’

I start to feel sick.

I look to Evaline, the real one.

‘I just want things to be like they were.’

And she looks at me with a face that betrays hurt and confusion.

‘Like they were?  Don’t you remember?  Our relationship was horrible.  We fought.  We didn’t pay attention to each other.  We didn’t make love.  It was horrible.’

And my memory of Evaline, she flickers in and out. 

It makes my head hurt as I watch her.  I feel my lungs struggling as the air gets sucked from my chest.  I feel my heart racing as my brain struggles to stay in the moment.

I don’t know what to say.

And Evaline’s memory she tells me that I only have to remember the good things.

And Evaline, she tells me we can build something better than we had before.  She tells me that her eyes have been opened.  She tells me that there’s so much for me to learn and experience

My head is throbbing even worse now.

‘But where were you?  Why did you go?’

‘Because our relationship was shit.  Because I needed to breathe.  Because I was bored with our life and everything that it involved.’

Her aged eyes look at me with a conviction that causes my skin to pinch up on itself.

And my memory of Evaline, she keeps fading away.

It’s a pause and a breath.

It’s a nervous twisting of my nervous fingers.

Her eyes are red with sadness and happiness.

She’s crying.

And then I hear more footsteps behind me.  

I turn around.

It’s Dylan.

 

3

 

We’re eating.

There’s brightness and clarity to everything.  It almost feels as if I’m going to drown in the reality of the situation.

I watch as she struggles with the food. 

Her jaw is tired.

Her hands are tired.

Everything about her is tired and slow.  It’s painful for me to watch her as she fades away. 

Yet, I know that she’s ok with it.  This is what she wanted.

Because we all have choices. 

Every moment is a choice. 

And this; it’s her choice.

And now; we make due. 

She looks at me over her food, gray hair falling across her forehead.

‘You know, I think we should go for a walk.’

‘You know that you can’t walk too far.  Your knee’s are too weak.’

‘I know, I just thought it would be nice.’

And we both go back to eating.

We’re silent.

 

4

 

I don’t think.

I don’t think, but I do manage to react.

And so I’m on top of Dylan before he can process what’s going on. 

He didn’t expect to see me today, this much is obvious.

I push him to the ground and pin him with all my weight. 

I bar my forearm against his throat.

He struggles but I don’t let up.

Everything inside of me is white hot.

Everything inside of me is on fire. 

And through the blood in my ears, I can hear Evaline screaming. 

I can hear her screaming, but I can’t seem to care about it. 

I push harder.

His face goes red.

My cheeks are burning up and I can feel my muscles struggling against my skin.

He’s kicking his feet up. 

He’s trying to knock me off of him.

‘You motherfucker.’

The words come out of my mouth without much thought.

The words come out of my mouth with silent rage.

And I’m not sure why I’m doing this.

But I do feel that it’s what I should be doing.

My body starts to shake from the adrenaline.

And then I feel Evaline’s hands on my shoulder.  Trying to pull me off.  Trying to snap me out of this insanity. 

‘Ellis!’

And she’s screaming.

And all I can think is that this man has spent far too much time with my wife.  All I can think of is the fact that this man stole Evaline from me.

Dylan, he tries to speak. 

Sound ambles out of his mouth in a choked stuttering.

He can’t say anything.

And finally, Evaline, she pulls me off.

I tumble backward. 

My head crashes on the ground and I find myself staring at the lights above me. 

I’m exhausted and I take the moment to try and work out what to do next.

My chest rises and falls with a heavy depth.

And my lungs, they struggle.

And my heart, it races.

I don’t move.

My eyes start to burn.

The adrenaline exits my body but leaves me shaking on the floor.

And I sob.

I let it out.

Years of anger and frustration and whatever else I’ve kept bottled up within me, I let it out.

I think of Franklin.  My parents.  Alicia.  Loneliness. 

My thoughts race through my mind as I explore everything that I’ve gone through and everything that it has left me with.

And in the end I’m left with the realization that I don’t know what was real and what wasn’t. 

I don’t know much of anything.

My head hurts.

I see Dylan getting up off the ground.

Brushing himself off. 

He looks confused and he looks angry.

I tell him to leave and give me a moment with Evaline. 

Then as he exits, Evaline crouches down next to me. 

I see my memory of her flicker in and out.

And Evaline, the real one, the love of my life, she tells me that we have to talk.

 

5

 

We walk at a slow pace.

We walk as if we have all the time in the world.

And while we may have one day had time; this is no longer true. 

There is an end date. 

There is an end date and it causes everything else to feel that much more compressed.  It causes everything else to feel that much more real.

The sun is shining.

It’s fall.

The leaves are falling.

We hold hands.

I feel her loose skin as our fingers tangle up.

This moment, it will have an end, just like everything else.

She looks at me with a smile.

‘This is nice.’

And I find myself nodding in agreement.  Because it’s true.  I took things like this for granted in the past. 

We spend the next few minutes in silence before I open my mouth.

‘You know, Franklin almost had me convinced that you had joined some sort of southern death cult.’

I laugh as I say this.

She smiles.

‘Why southern?’

‘You know…I have no clue.’

My thoughts wander as we meander with a cadence that reflects our conversation.

Finally we start to slow. 

I can see that she’s in pain.

Her eyes are at a squint and she’s becoming weak.

We sit down at a park bench.

She leans her head against my shoulder.

We take in the moment.  We let ourselves breathe.

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