Dave drug himself into the store after a long thirty minutes in the car spent thinking about whether or not to call out. This place is stupid. I feel like I need a break from stupid. Stupid people who barely know how to ask for what they want. Stupid coworkers who can’t understand what I mean when I speak. Stupid condescending business model, selling sugar to fat people like weed to high schoolers. He was as bitter as the swill he swigged.
He had made it in early in spite of the restless night. When he wasn’t leaving his thoughts to how tired he was, what had happened the night before, or how much he hated everything around him, he let the words on the page consume him. He just wanted to hear what they had to say.
He had brought his laptop with him; the words still came as easily as they had the night before. He twisted and tapered a single long stanza with gentle purpose, letting a few strange words play strange games in the white field of possibility:
HEAR THE CITY SEE ~ THE KILLER
I will tell you about the killer;
He is tall, and he is slender.
His long, white and filthy
fingers reach to grip the
neck of the woman
alone in the alley.
Like spiders, hands
are reaching.
Spid’ry hands
are c o l d .
Run!
He is chasing,
bat in hand.
You can’t get away.
--brutal, beaten;
brains battered
beyond broken.
Pieces of your skull--
He takes his leave
wearing your recesses
on a single slimy sleeve.
____
Damn, thought Dave. This is getting dark. A moment ran by him as the weight of what he’d written sank in. I was wrong to come in today. Cliff is sick, and he’s probably going to jail for a long time because of it. I have lost one more person in my life, and I didn’t even take a day off to grieve. Well, I guess I’ll deal with that ball of knots sooner or later. And Riley’s leaving. I wonder who I’ll close with when she’s gone. I’m gonna leave this place too. One way or another, I’m getting out of here. I wasn’t supposed to stay this long.
Relationships can be more than circumstantial. Compassion should be more than just convenient. That’s easier said than done, but there’s no sense in saying it if you’re not going to try and chase it.
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I’m going to clock in. I’m going to do my job today, face the hellspawn trying to steal my soul from me. I’m going to clock out. I’m going to go home, and I’m going to listen to my wife. I’m going to try to be her frame on the smoke. We’re in this life together. Right now, we’re all in this together, even those against us.
The couple sat on their gray couch in their gray and yellow living room. Their small world was lit once again by the yellow, electric glow of a lamp and the chromatic television screen. Camus’s head laid in Dave’s lap while he chewed on a rawhide bone. Such a bizarre world, thought Dave. You look adorable to me chewing on part of something that’s been dead for a long time. We call it a bone, but it’s really skin. Your head is in my lap chewing on a dead animal, and I think it’s endearing. Is this evidence of humankind’s brevity in wisdom and perspective? I guess questions are all we really have. That’s more than just the self. Life: you’re a Gordian knot. I wish purpose and meaning were as simple as ‘Alexander’s sword,’ here I am trying to untie you instead. I need decisiveness, I need action, I need—
“Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout?” asked Elizabeth.
“Uh, knots and dog bones… nothing, I guess. Have you heard from your dad lately?”
“No. He still hasn’t called me back.”
“Well if it’s any consolation, you’re handling his mistakes well.”
“Thanks.”
“What do you think?”
“I’ve just learned it’s better to keep him at a distance. Don’t expect too much from him. Don’t think about it too often. He’ll come around when he comes around.”
“He makes a lot of mistakes and hurts people a lot. I don’t think he means to.”
“You don’t?”
“You do?”
“Sometimes, yeah. I think he uses me. I know he uses me. He’s used me for money. He’s used me to get to my siblings. I’m just a means to an end for him.”
“You know, I always saw it from the angle that he was seeking out your help, one family member to another, but I think you see it a little better; at the end of the day you shouldn’t put people and pliers in the same box in the closet.”
“Exactly. It’s one thing to say to someone, ‘hey, you have a skill or a talent that I need you to use to help me achieve this goal.’ It’s another thing to only say that to someone. I’m his daughter, not his screwdriver.”
“Why do you think he does that?” asked Dave. How does one’s life become a string of mistakes? remembered Dave. It starts with one and then another. I suppose the biggest problem is never learning the right lesson, never processing the right issue.
“I don’t know. You’re the one who said you thought he didn’t mean any harm.”
“Right, but I want to hear what you think. I don’t know him like you do.”
The only sound in the room was Camus’s chewing. Dave looked at Elizabeth’s face looking down at the ground; he could see through the blank stare to a deep color of thought painted across in a thin wash. Underneath the wash was a basecoat of pain, misery, and anxiety. I’ve never been able to imagine that Alexander cleaved the Knot with a single stroke; he probably hacked at it at least a couple of times. There’s truth in that. Ropes and tangled emotions aren’t so easy to cut, but I still think we have to try with all the tools we have to untangle them.
“I think,” she said. “He genuinely doesn’t know any better. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, like a child drawing on the wall. He just does it anyway. He just thinks about himself more than anyone else.”
“That makes sense; that’s any easy place to get trapped in.”
“Yeah, well… he’ll come around when he comes around.”
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Where do you plan on going?”
“Nowhere. I’m going to stay right here. I’m going to wait for him. He’s still my dad. I still love him, even when he makes mistakes. Even when it hurts. That’s what we’re supposed to do.”
“You’re so much wiser than I am.”