[https://i.imgur.com/PzQNRYd.jpg]
To all the gentle people
adrift in this harsh world.
Dedicated to Aarron Komoczi
Rest in Peace (October 19th 1990 to October 16th 2009)
CYCLE ONE: BODY
WANING SOLSTICE
Chapter I
THE GODS OF GHOST RIVER
“We can't stop here, this is bat country!”
- Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
••••
Boundless starlight, the night aglow with infinite tiny pinpoints, a sense of eternity, that feeling of all things in one. Overwhelmed, the corners of my mind ready to fray at the seams. Electricity, a flash of blinding tendrils, a thunderclap, a storm brews in the emptiness, the badlands. Great looming shape backlit by the impending tempest, silver discs in the sky, violent eyes. It grows, tall and menacing with the fortitude of a mountain peak. I fall into obscurity. Bottomless. Grasping into the nothing, hoping to peel back the fabric of the tangible world. But, I fall. Those eyes staring back at me. They know me. I don’t want them to know me…
••••
Cold sweat, I’m dazed, feverish, but not sick. Strange thoughts coming to consume me, a hunger from some diabolical place I can’t quite put my finger on. Restlessness takes me, my whole body in motion, but I’m still, immobile for hours. Slowly being devoured by my own ruminations, my mind races, my heartbeat the pace of a hunted animal. Trapped, unable to untangle my body from this paralysis, alone in my little room, a prison made of my tiny twin sized bed with budget black linens.
•••
My little brother, Darion, picks up a stone, a small yellow one. Rays reflecting in the summer sun, it shines. Maybe just all of seven years old, his shaggy midnight hair covers his sparkling eyes. He giggles, and tosses the prized pebble to me, his soaked hand-me-down jeans adorned with well-earned holes.
“Best one I’ve found all day!”
“Yeah, it’s a good one,” I feel genuinely proud of his feat, like the patron of an explorer discovering a lost continent.
It’s beautiful, cream and tan snaking across its polished surface. I roll the oblong earth over my slender hands and pocket it. Ankle deep in the creek, I’m unsteady, my scrawny body getting buffeted by the current. Darion seems to be holding stronger than me, even with my extra two years.
•••
How long have I been like this? Memories consuming me… and sometimes, frightening reflections seared into my mind’s eye. Has it always been this way? At least as long as I can remember… in recent years it seems to be getting worse. Broken… it’s painful to swallow the sense of my own self-induced uselessness. Stalking the inner most passages of my psyche, a great gnawing fear, somehow, if I were to leave this cell of my own making, I’ll lose myself to something immense, dark, with piercing eyes.
The drone of a text message breaks my non-consensual meditation. Usually adept at ignoring the summons glowing insistently on the screen of my cheap flip phone, this time I’m pulled to it. Fine, I guess I can spare twenty-five cents to view the string of notifications. Haven’t called home in who knows how long… sometimes mom rings, the worry thinly veiled by resignation, acceptance that there’s not much she can do at this point.
…Eyes of mercury…I don’t want them to know me…
I roll to my side, greeted by posters of “TwiZted JaKo and the Lanterns”, “Socially Toxic”, and “Death the Rabbit”. Demonic figures, mouths silenced by zippers, spindly writing, unnerving for some, but I find the music strangely comforting. My auditory guardians, I can just about tolerate going out into the real world with my headphones blasting, blocking out my apprehension.
The phone buzzes… incessant whirring…
“FINE! DAMNIT.”
Flailing, my lanky limbs fly everywhere, like a stupid marionette. Big mistake. Mortified, I’ve got to be more careful, can’t let anyone see this shit-show. Control, weight in my feet, a menacing scowl on my face, towering above everyone, feeling untouchable…but good. Picking up the stupid vibrating phone, my eyes adjust to the unnatural glow of the screen, peering at the string of text messages.
[hey]
[hey]
[RILEY!]
[Hey fuknutz whatcha doing tonight?
Hitting u up
Im in town]
•••
A little river rock smacks into the small of my back. Shuddering, I tear up, and try to breathe through the pain. Turning, a handsome boy with an infectious grin and hazel eyes beams at me, his skateboarding shoes look two sizes too big for his feet.
I can’t show weakness, or more stones will be pelted my way. So, I meet his gaze and smile.
•••
Nico, we go way back, maybe my oldest friend, save my brother. Getting into all kinds of mischief when we played together as kids. He’s wild, built, amped up, and always doing something ridiculous. Never thinking, Nico is just a moving projectile, with the trajectory of a racecar headed for a concrete wall. I’m his polar opposite, always listening, silent, boney, and generally disappointed with the world. That’s how I like it.
[Asshat i no ur there]
Stunned by the words on the screen, I struggle… wanting to avoid Nico at all costs. He’s going to rope me into some kind of bullshit situation… I just know it. But, a calling deep within, a string tethered to the fabric of my being drags me to action, my fingers flitting across the buttons as if they don’t belong to me, my agency be damned.
[Yo I heard you. Ya I can hang]
Why? Why do I do this? Engage with his bullshit.
[Hahaaa knew it! U couldnt ignore me forever
Picking u up in 30
Pack a bag homie]
My stomach drops. Pack a bag? Fucking kidding me, asshole? I don’t want to go anywhere! Again… being pushed into something I would otherwise have no intention of doing, but here I am, committed. Why? Because, that’s what friends do, old friends… best friends. On-brand for Nico to yank me out of my sanctuary of solitude. Ugh.
That strange pull hits me again, energy pulsing through my ligaments, something in my gut screams, if I don’t go, catastrophe awaits. Anxiety takes the reins, paralysis my enemy, as though there’s an unseen predator reaching out to ingest me. Pack now! Leave now!
Trying to rationalize the reaction, I backtrack… cabin fever, that’s it, I’ve not been out in a week. Maybe, this’ll do me some good.
Glowering, I sigh then reach under my big-box store metal bed frame and grab my ebony duffle bag. Changing from my ripped sweats into my favorite pair of pants… well sort of pants, baggy black shorts that cut just above my protruding ankles, intimidating metal fasteners, and d-rings perfect for clipping chains to them… a rare symbol of that crumb of vanity that I still hold onto. Yet, the thought of adding a little bit of bling to the clothing bothers me. With no silence in which to disappear, that constant clinking wouldn’t go nearly as unnoticed as I’d hope… but they make my frame look a little bigger, hair-raising… I go through life, greeted by perplexed stares, or better yet the occasional averted gaze. Makes me feel untouchable… but good.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
From a tub on the floor, I pack my sparse selection of necessities, a few pairs of boxers to a t-shirt with a vicious golden inked rat stamped onto the threads. Here’s hoping it’ll be enough for the next few days. Toiletries, charger, a stainless steel water bottle, that gnawing thought that I’ve left something behind… my beanie... I love my beanie, chunky knit, the same deep hue as the nu metal shorts. Pausing, nearly forgetting something of utmost importance, my clove cigs, so deliciously potent. Pocketing the sky blue carton with a canyon on it and a brassy pill box I store my spent butts in, I’m itching to get my hands on just one. Some smooth courage to get me through this surprise shitstorm… I mean… adventure with Nico.
Fumbling, I look for my lighter. Where’d it go? Anxiety boils into anger. Where did it go?
Ouch.
I step on it.
Brushing strands of long straight black hair out of my eyes and affixing them behind my ears, I pick up the silver box…. maybe this won’t be so bad. Sliding on my steel-toed leather boots, finally, I’m at home in my skin, with the comfort of weight in my feet.
Navigating the strange hall of the… house? I guess weird hostel is more accurate. Once, this was a Colonial home from the twenties. A few bedrooms, a study, even a conservatory, and a sizable basement, but the owners lost their taste for preserving history with the addictive temptations of capitalism beckoning at their door. Now, the basement alone accommodates around eight tiny bedrooms, not including whatever they did with the upstairs. All of the dorms are divided with flimsy sheetrock “walls”, none of it to code, or legal. The cellar dwellers are resigned to a single bathroom with a very cold shower, mildew in the corners, and a solitary barely functional toilet. At least the sink seems to work okay… on warm days at least. Trade off is privacy, no roommates to speak of, a very reasonable rent of two hundred and fifty dollars a month cash, and no questions asked.
Opening the door to the external stairs from the basement, yet another great way to keep the riff raff out of the main levels of the property. Blistering sunlight, to my surprise, it’s only midday. My internal clock screwed up, my head assumed it was the dead of night. Squinting, I pluck a sweet cigarette from its box, lighting it. Out early, hopefully I can get a couple of drags in before he arrives, or better yet, finish this cancer stick. Nico’s never on time… he averages thirty minutes late to everything, at least that’s the standard. When I manage to scrape myself out of bed, I’m usually pretty punctual. Committed. At least somebody ought to be, between the two of us.
Taking a deep puff off of my long overdue reward, I hear an unwelcome rumble. Turning down the quiet suburban street to see an ugly box-shaped car, one of those dumb topless all-terrain recreational things with tires too large for its frame and useless roll bars. I’ll be damned, Nico’s actually early. His dumb ass painted the stupid vehicle neon green. Annoyed, I put out my cigarette on the sidewalk and slide it behind my ear, saving it for later.
“Hey, get in!” he snickers.
Nico’s spider braids bounce off the top of his head, they too are an awful shade of neon green. He beams at me, his very symmetrical features brimming with warmth, creating extra crinkles around his full cheeks… But for all of his good looks, his drab skin is a little mottled, more damaged than it should be at his age. Hunching a little, I roll my eyes with enough punch that I hope he registers my disdain. Tossing my duffle into the back, I put on my ceremonial scowl and climb into his idiot machine.
“I need a favor, homie.”
“Fine!” I grumble, deeply concerned about the antics Nico has planned.
•••
Flashing lights at my front door. Confusion. Why’re they here? It’s so late. Mom turns and looks at me, her face pale, beckoning me to the stoop. An officer grimaces at my tan skin.
“Son, where were you between…”
•••
Snapping out of it, last time he “needed a favor” he pressured me to make up some cover for him. Forget what he did… rob a liquor store… maybe a gas station? Some stupid shit Nico would do on a whim, but that was a few years ago. Hopefully his current task is less “Nico-ey”. He’s in good spirits, cackling with innate delight, as he turns up the rap metal to a thunderous thud. The sound system extremely clear, the glowing paint job fresh and pristine, he must’ve come into some money. Slumping in my seat in my usual aloof, grumpy way, hoping he doesn’t expect me to talk…
“Yo, so, there’s this bitch who’s been texting me, right, and…” Nico starts rambling.
The breeze blowing through my long hair soothes me as I actively tune him out. Quaint mid-century houses with manicured lawns roll past, making me miss home. Yearning for the nostalgic company of my brother, my heart pangs with loss... He’s fine; just haven’t seen him in awhile. I’m a waste, a deflated shadow of what I should be, I can’t bear to have him see me like this.
•••
Picking up the worn drill, I’m a god of creation, adding a new screw into the pieces of cheap composite wood. With this sick jump, we, the Yates brothers, will be kings of the cul-de-sac! People will come for miles to try it out, our dirt bikes are at the ready, my plan is flawless.
•••
Excitement tingles through me, the freeway approaches as we curl onto a road facing pristine mountain peaks, westward. My happiest memories with the family always started here, on this artery pumping cars across the state.
“And she’s all like whoa… when she finds out about the other one….”
Exasperation hits, Nico’s such an asshole, didn’t even bother to ask me how I’m doing, just obsessed with his ludicrous conquests. Hyper focusing out the windshield, I attempt to keep a semblance of my composure, as ponderosas and lodge pole pines’ emerald spines cut past me in an untamed blur. Covertly ignoring his usual torrent of bullshit, I just nod along when there’s natural pauses in his rant.
“Dat bitch be crazy, she’s into bondage… like waaay too much, man…. She gave me this scar and this one.”
“So all three of these bitches come over and…”
Ugh… how many people has Nico been fucking?! Anxiety prickling in the tips of my fingers, this isn’t what I signed up for, makes me want to bail out the window at full speed, the skin torn from my limbs preferable to whatever this shit is. One hopes he’s just talking out his ass, if there’s one thing Nico’s notorious for, it’s bragging… all… of… the… time. Obnoxiously, it’s probably all true; he’s surprisingly, a terrible liar. For the love of all things holy, please, shut the fuck up. With purpose, Nico makes people feel uncomfortable, a method in which to assert his will on others, show them, in his mind, who’s Alpha dog. Habitually, I find myself disassociating…
•••
Darion launches himself off of the makeshift jump. His big box store bicycle making a little bunny hop.
“Dude, that was SICK!” I yell to him, encouraging his progress.
He shakes his head in agreement, “That’s why I’ll be a professional dirt biker and you wont!”
Another boy with straight brown hair makes his debut jump, with a surprisingly good amount of air and a flawless landing.
“Bobbi, you’re full of surprises,” my brother giggles.
Bobbi smiles and nods, but remains silent. Humble, he doesn’t show off, just lives in the moment. Nothing more, nothing less.
•••
“How about you? Seein’ anyone lately?”
Snapping out of my indulgent nostalgic trance, I stare blankly. The first generous thing he’s done all trip… Surprised, I’m not sure how to respond.
“Ummm. Eh, no. Been too busy… Lots of stuff going on…” I mutter, confrontation leaking through my tone. By being “too busy” what I mean is that I’ve been nearly catatonic in my room for a month. Being depressed is a full-time job, takes all the energy I have.
“Homie, where we’re going, there’ll be plenty of bitches for you,” he grabs my scrawny shoulder with an intense grip, shaking it savagely.
I guess this move’s meant to be affectionate, but all it does is hurt.
“OUCH! Knock it off!”
“Don’t worry Ghost Man, this'll be the trip of your life,” Nico says with a shit eating grin, his spider braids flopping with the motion of the vehicle.
Looking out the open top of the car, the landscape unrecognizable, Nico’s orgy story was at least three hours long. Why did it have to be that… involved?
Tall mountain peaks fading in the distance, the wilderness arid and dry, only low-lying brush colonizes the harsh ground. Ominous mesas of colorful sand stand brooding under an enormous sky. Heat permeates the capillaries of my face, I missed the alpine views, he fucking stole that too, all of this loss of conscious time, for what? Nico’s stupid attention whoring…Bitter, I avoid looking at him, instead drawing my attention to my spindly hands. Tanning rapidly, as a creature of the indoors, I forgot how paleness grew unnaturally upon me. Just a few hours of sun and I’m nearly as dark as mom. Sighing, I should probably go see her when I’m back in town… I owe her that much.
We turn north off of the freeway towards hills of soft flaxen sediment. Juniper and oak scrub adorn the mounds like a green crown of thorns. The road grows lonely, a car passing us maybe once every fifteen minutes. Nearly as lonely as my little room, my sanctum of solitude, home.
Nico’s still rambling on about something, possibly rapping along to his thumping music, but I’ve successfully tuned him out. Infecting every fiber of my being, I let the scenery permeate my mind, the roar of the wind, the songs of grasshoppers calling to the high desert in summer…
THWACK!
Out of nowhere, a small beetle smacks into my face, breaking my flow. Dead on impact, its moist guts splatter all over my cheek.
“UGH!”
Nico turns, laughing uncontrollably, “Damn bro! That shit’s nasty!”
Disgusted, I scrape the entomological gore from my face. Part of my heart pangs for the tiny creature that met its maker on my ugly mug. Sucked into a violent vortex of air, the insect probably never even conceived of this foreign thing we call a car, before hurdling to its untimely end. Soaking the goop off of my face with the metal water bottle, luckily the mess is fresh, and slides off of my cheek with ease. All washed away, now all that remains is the memory and my now saturated, less than white, tank top.
“Only you my man, getting pelted with bugs and shit!” Nico snorts.
I want to disintegrate into my seat… Turning again onto an even quieter stretch of highway, a shallow winding river follows us along the side of the road, rich in teal and aqua, it churns slowly. To either side of the pavement, doughy white bluffs guard our little valley. Vegetation stripped bare, the land desolate and strange, an alien world trapped in the rain shadow of the mountains long left out of sight. Uneasiness fills me, a primal place, I feel… wrong being here, an interloper. Unable to shake or place it, something isn’t right, it’s waiting... watching.
•••
A shape against the bleeding sun, fingers extend, composed of woven grass.
•••
BOOM!
I nearly leap from my seat!
“Oh man, you’re jumpy,” Nico cracks up, his laughter ringing with an irritating nasal quality. He switched the song to something with extra pumped up bass, rattling the car’s boxy frame.
Letting out a puff of air, somewhere between a gasp and a defeated sigh, I join Nico, rapping along to the music. I don’t know the song well, but it’s slow enough that I can mumble along okay. It’s energizing, maybe, it’s why Nico’s constantly going a million miles a minute. Or maybe, he’s manic or just flat out crazy… could be both? In spite of it all, I stand by him, loyalty matters. Besides, who else would be willing to call and hangout? It isn’t like I’ve got loads of friends lining up to spend time with me.
“Have some shiz to take care of,” Nico breaks his rhythm, “Shouldn’t take long. And then we can road trip to Las Ricas, get into some real trouble!”
Nodding, I guess that’s what he meant by going somewhere with “plenty of bitches.” He’s taking me to party in Las Ricas. Not my idea of a good time, but I’ll take it.
The peculiar terrain gives way to a wide valley lined by red plateaus, the neon green car juxtaposes oddly against the silhouettes of archaic stone. Monumental and terrifying, the land has a mind its own, staring down upon us puny, frail things. Hundreds of thousands of years from now, this’ll still be here, long after our bodies are no more than ash in the ground. We turn on to an under-maintained sienna dirt road, bouncing rhythmically with the sediment, heading towards the largest and most jagged pillars of rock. Two ancient guardians, the scarlet mesas stand watch, surveying this serene place.
•••
“This trip to see Nana is taking too long,” Darion whines, pushing aggressively against his booster seat.
“You are going to pop our tires with your prickly attitude, mister. Then it will really take a long time!” Mom jests.
My nose pressed against the tempered glass, my new CD player blasting hard rock into my ears. Out of the window, towers of crimson earth. If this were a book, dragons would live here, immortal and angry.
•••
A memory flutters into my mind’s eye, I’ve been here before, an age ago, couldn’t have been any older than seven. Packer’s Gate… when mom took my brother and I to see the family on the rez, we passed this place. Recollecting the overwhelming intimidation exuded by these looming canyons… enormous, bigger than anything I’d seen before. Now, I feel just as small, but the beauty of this place calms me.
Slow going, large rocks lining the unconstructed road launch the vehicle into the air, gravity slamming us back into the ground. For once, I’m grateful for Nico’s idiot machine… most cars would’ve been long decimated by the impacts. Yet, on we trudge, this violent pummeling no more than a mild inconvenience. Twilight hits Packer’s Gate as the midsummer sun dips behind the towering pinnacles. To the East, stars wink into existence in the growing ultramarine heavens as the final colors of the endless sky dance against a few wispy clouds. Nico parks in the lengthening shadows of the great standing stones, far from civilization. Solstice… I’m at peace with my thoughts as the shortest night begins.