The Reminder - 20 - 31

Behind the wheel and glancing at my watch, I could not believe I was driving to work so late. I was never late for anything, especially when it came to my profession. Pulling my car to a stop and giving myself a quick look in the rear view mirror, my sloppy appearance was clear indication of how I was feeling on the inside. All the same, I tried to give myself the assurance that all was o.k. before stepping out into an already sticky summer morning.

Bolting between the doors, I left little room for morning small talk and made my way to the confines of the kitchen. Pouring myself a coffee, I sat waiting for the inevitable appearance with Tom. On cue, he entered the room loaded with an already sympathetic gaze.

“Good morning Tom”.

Glancing up briefly, I tried making as little eye contact as possible while seemingly under control. It was all too evident otherwise as Tom stood motionless in front of me.

“Peter, you look horrible man”.

Raising my coffee cup in agreement, I then leaned over to leer out the window.

“I didn’t get much sleep last night and…”

The emotions began to flow uncontrolled and hiding them was futile.

“It’s my rental arraignment... its taking some getting used to…and this lady Grace; I have to get over to see her. It’s not sounding good”.

Still staring down into what was left of my coffee; Tom, in an act of support, walked over and set his hand on my shoulder.

“Listen, why don’t you take the morning off Pete? I think things will be alright here”.

Taking his offer to heart, I was on my way out when I surprisingly caught eyes with my new patient. Our momentary contact was broken when he turned away and re positioned his gaze elsewhere. Still looking at him, I could just make out the profile of his cold face staring out of the window of the therapy room. He would be there in that same spot when I got back, and if no one moved him, it’s likely he could be there for the remainder of his days. He was a stone that I promised myself I would break.

Shifting my focus, I knew I had another good hour before I could visit Grace, so I headed down to the American river for some time alone.

Sitting myself close to the waters edge, I stared blankly at the muddied liquid that instantly mesmerized me by its smooth lines and seemingly never ending flow. High cirrus clouds were reflected as strands of yellow and lay across the waters glassy surface. They would occasionally bend and distort as the micro currents within the river, spun and swirled in the down stream direction. Holding no worries, the river just carried on as it always had answering to no one but driven by the predictable cycles of nature.

I envied the river for that reason. I wished my life to be so simple and at ease. Picking up a stone, I threw it at the water’s surface, breaking the trend of predictability. Within a moment all was smooth again and the sudden disturbance was without a trace. I had hoped my personal disturbance was in the passing phase as well but somewhere deep inside, I knew very different. More to the reality of things and by going off pure intuition was the fact that the incoming storm was one that would change me drastically forever.

Thinking of the months that followed after I left Grace, I still found those to be some of the best years of life for me. I would spend the days surfing the gentle waves of San Diego’s Mission beach and worked as a pizza delivery boy by night. It was all too good and then it got better.

On one given night, after a day of perfect waves, there was beach party where those around drank and sang the night away. That’s when I met Michelle, a tall brunette with blue eyes and a contagious smile. We instantly found friendship and that became the starting point of our five year relationship. She had ambitions for opening her own practice in the field of psychotherapy. Everything progressed quickly and before we knew it, I was following her to Colorado with hopes to starting my studies in psychotherapy as well.

Looking out, my smile faded. Our time together didn’t work out as planned, and while the reasons for separating were a few, the truth remained that she was fed up with me not facing my past and denying that I did need reconciliation with Grace.

Glancing at my watch, I knew it was time to head out to the hospital. It was a nervous relief knowing that the day had finally arrived. While on the road I did my best to try and think of the times we shared happiness, but they were few.

At the hospitals reception front desk, I introduced myself and asked for the room of a Grace Olmstead. Directed to the third floor, I was told I would be meeting a Doctor Moore.

Arriving in the waiting area, the doctor took fifteen minutes but finally arrived. Introducing himself and offering a seat on the hallway bench, he paused then looked me straight in the eyes.

“I am sorry to have to relate this to you, but Grace passed away in her sleep this morning. She was in and out of the hospital quite a bit over the last two months, but it wasn’t until just about after five a.m. that we knew her health took a turn for the worst. She mentioned you would be coming by but I am really sorry about the timing of it”.

Standing and moving out to the hallway, he filled me in on the facts of her cancer. Her falling victim to such an illness came as no surprise but the timing came as shock.

Stepping to the registration desk, I gave the nurse my name and explained that I was expecting a package. Reappearing again, she handed me a paper envelope with my full name Peter Olmstead written across the face of it. Staring blankly at it, I realized it signified Graces last earthy gesture towards me. The final touch, though void of warmth, was hopefully to somehow reveal an understanding of the greater questions I wanted answered.

An afternoon drive out to the dessert seemed the best remedy for my sullen state. With the chance to say good-bye gone forever now, and my seemingly only human link to the past severed, I was heart broken for obvious reasons but also relieved in my own self centered way.

Pulling the car off the black tarmac and rolling to a slow stop, I stepped out into the surprisingly cool midday air of an over cast dessert landscape. An out of season strong weather front was moving rapidly east trailing a cool northwest wind that was picking up the dessert floor creating momentary spires of orange and brown.

Seated on the hood of the car, I gazed out at the vast expanse of the empty landscape and was instantly put at ease. But I needed to walk and so I stepped away and headed out, pushing aimlessly into the untouched land. I continued on till the infrequent sounds of the passing motorist were over come by the dessert silence itself.

Eventually satisfied and finding a small clearing from the surrounding scrub brush, I sat myself down cross-legged on the hard pack soil and for a time just enjoyed the solitude. A single large bird of pray circled just below an increasingly ominous looking skyline.

After a time, my wondering mind caved to the desire of needing to talk to some one. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my cell phone and attempted to call Michelle. I wanted to update her about my relocation, how work was going, and the sudden passing of Grace. I knew if she did answer, I was just setting myself up for a round humiliation but I needed a friend, I just needed to hear her. In partial dismay her voice recorder came on and so the news could wait.

In an attempt at relinquishing all control, I lay on my back and I stared up to the black and gray swirling cloud mass above. Small infrequent silver streaks of rain trailed along with the wind and found their way down to the parched earth surface below. Smiling at the simple pleasure, a larger drop suddenly impacted just to the side of my head making a slapping sound. Within a second, the frequency of falling liquid increased beyond my ability to count. Bring pulled down from the heavens harder and faster, I cast my eyes to see that the visibility between the highway and me was closing. A moment later, the sky above released all that was too heavy to hold.

Grabbing my jacket, I began a hopeless chase for shelter but soon realized the futility of it. The running slowed to a walk then to a standstill where I stood with my face skyward in the torrential cleansing rain. The moment of recognition had arrived. I had reached my personal crossroads and though Grace was gone, I was ready to somehow find and release the chains that held me bound to my hidden past.

Pulling to a slow stop near my curbside parking, I was surprised not only to see Frank out side but with him was two police officers.

“God what now”, I muttered.

Stepping from the car, I could hear Franks voice already deep in explanation with one of the officers while the other was inspecting an area off the front of the house. Acknowledging my arrival, Frank reached his arm out and pulled me into the inner circle.

“Peter boy, this is officer Fielding”.

Taking a breadth but shaking in aggravation, Frank began pointing again down the street.

“Those damn hoodlums throwing rocks again at the house, if I had my better age about me, I would have them in a sorry state”.

Resting one hand up on his tall shoulder, it was the angry side of the man I had not seen yet. A moment later, the younger of the two officers stepped up with his note pad opened.

“They did scratch the surface paint on a few areas but no glass broken”.

Closing his pad, he stepped toward the patrol car to handle another call while officer Fielding continued filling in the last remarks on his report. Placing his pen away, he looked onto Frank whose breathing was now becoming normal again.

“Mr. Henderson, give us a call if you have any further problems or see anyone snooping around the property o.k”.

With a good night said, Frank and I returned to the inside where he invited me to a cool glass of home made lemonade.

In silence at the kitchen table, we sat for a few moments not sure where really to pick up at. I had a lot going on but I wanted also to keep things between us feeling as light as possible.

“Has this been an on going situation Frank”?

I asked breaking the awkward moment. Moving restlessly in his seat, Frank settled facing me for a time.

“Yes, every so many months these kids like to torment the hell out of me. Try to get under my skin and I think they are winning their point”.

Staring into the depths of my glass, I took another swallow of the tart lemonade, which made my face squeeze tight with reaction. Frank smiled breaking his sullen mood instantly.

“Strong stuff I know but good for ya all the same. Another filler upper for ya Peter”?

Raising my glass as well as my self out of the seat, my eyes drifted around his spotless kitchen and took in again the fact of how every thing was perfectly in its place.

Walking over to a far wall that was spotted with various hand drawn gift cards, I immediately took a liking to them for the reason that who ever made them, put time into decorating them with dried flowers and other bits of nature. My roaming eyes then fell upon a small but finely crafted wooden shelf that supported the many cooking condiments, within them, stood a few little bottles of prescription drugs.

“Some is my stuff, some is… stuff. I…it’s all looking about as old as me and so maybe soon it will be time to clean the wall up”.

Referring back to the art, I smiled but found little else to add to the conversation. Suddenly placing himself awkwardly between me and the wall, Frank stood in close staring into my eyes.
“How’s your head son”?

Surprised by his close proximity, I backed off a few steps while Frank continued looking on with sincerity.
“Its still smarts abit…for sure”.

Joining him at the table again, I felt moved to share with Frank what had just transpired pertaining to Grace’s passing but then reasoned it would not help but dampen the mood further. I quickly reassured myself that our personal worlds were better off at a distance of each other, at least for now.

“Look Frank, I am not sure why for the second time this has happened here and I don’t want this as a sore point between us, but the painting, we agreed…”

Pulling his chair in close to me, Frank, in a gesture of comfort put his trembling hand on mine.

“I have already taken care of it son. I don’t mean to be getting in your way; it’s a habit I have had for years, resetting where my art sits in the house. I am getting old and not getting out as much so it’s a way of seeing the world in a different view I guess”.

Tired but in a way oddly content with the given situation, I grabbed for my few item, and headed for the door that was the passageway to my lower unit. The otherwise serene atmosphere was broken with Frank’s sudden inquiry.
“So how’s the clinic these days”?

Nodding gently, but following it with little detail, I acknowledged all was going well and soon descended down the steps and out of sight.

Taking a brief walk through my kitchen, I started slowly floating my eyes around through out the area. In a slow circling motion, I worked my way out to the living area and took notice of the replacement painting on the far wall. Although different and very much inferior as far as artistic expertise, the new look was still not to my liking. Stepping in close, I meticulously looked over Frank’s art in further attempts to find appreciation towards it.

A daunting seascape with four boats heading out to sea under uncertain skyline of swirling black and gray did little to enhance my mood. A single black line, that I presumed being of an ocean swell, separated one black boat to the inside and the three outer boats to the outside. All looked to be heading out to a night of certain hard weather. Dropping my attention down on far left corner, I noticed the words “El Capitan” and next to them, a barely noticeable minute “c”.

Disengaging from Frank’s art piece, I walked down the hall, flipped on the lights and as I went along, I noticed nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Reaching the end of the hall and entering the spare bedroom, I remained standing for a time with my eyes closed, enjoying the mysterious comfort that this particular room gave to me. It felt homely and inviting.

Taking my observation to the bed, I saw that the old comforter was slightly displaced as if someone had recently had a rest. Shaking my head subtly, I relinquished all resistance and thought harmless of the idea that Frank also enjoyed the feeling this particular room gave off.

Gently running my hands over the surface of the outdated comforter so as to rake out the uneven areas, I looked out into a room with little other furniture except the old classic rocking chair in the corner and a mirror on the wall.

 Sliding my bare feet across the top of the light blue colored carpet, I paused within the defined worn pathway that led from the door way to the bed. I found it momentarily odd that while the rest of the lower unit’s floor was that of a fine wooden finish, this room was left still dressed with an old outdated carpet finish. Stepping to the mirror, I looked closely at my self, inspecting my tired eyes.

My roaming vision then took appreciation to the oval bronze casing encircling the mirror that was with out a spot of dust or any other trace of a flaw. It was perfectly in tact and by looking at the room’s decor as a whole; I imagined it probably had not moved since the first time it was hung.

Just then, the overhead light went into a short flicker before faded off completely. As if being called to a quiet sleep, I accepted the invitation and had a lay down. All the worries and all the stress seemed to dissolve as I was wrapped within the room’s deep comforting calm.

The afternoon sunshine pierced its intense white glow over the wide expanse of the familiar surroundings. In front of me was the vastness of the Pacific Ocean. Powerful rays of light cast down on the rolling waves far below creating what looked to be a sea of diamonds. Its radiance cut a defined path atop the rhythmic surface that stretched itself from the distant horizon to a pinpoint area a hundred or so feet below. A small crowd of people remained seaside, playing in the ocean waves and enjoying the wonderful warmth of the day.

Suddenly out of nowhere, a pack of young boys with surf boards in toe, rushed passed me and ran the cliff line, heading for a path that led down to the black sand beach below. Leaning down, I grabbed for my board and followed eagerly.

Pausing momentarily, my attention was now fixed back from somewhere behind me on voices collaborating in a tone of laughter. Three well groomed individuals stood together showing signs of fun, friendly affection. A moment later, the pod of three became two and the couple turned and ran joyously through the waist high tall green grass of the open field. Hand in hand they swung in circles and appeared to be oblivious to all else that existed around them.

Wearing a white flowing dress, the beautiful young woman broke free and began to run towards the sun. Straining to see more detail against the bright light of showering sunshine, my attention drifted to her companion, who slowed to a stop while still holding out his long stretched arm. Stationary and fading, the details of his face remained indistinguishable while the beauty of hers was becoming ever clearer.

Moving further apart from her lover and drifting seemingly with out effort, the pale face of the woman with red lips remained in a blissful surrender. Eyes closed, her playful movements slowed as if she began to sense that she was drawing ever closer to the cliff face just in front of her.

Yelling out in terror, I tried to reach forward to help, as she seemed blinded from her impending death. With her large black eyes now opened, her blissful face turned crazed as she began to fall into weightlessness. Through the misty clouds she fell, helplessly screaming out for it all to stop. The white went to black and black went to red only to flash a brilliant explosion, culminating in a sudden and complete fading to darkness, trailed in with a soft murmuring voice of calm.

“Your awakening has begun”.