"Outside by your doorstep
In a worn out suit and tie
I'll wait
For you to come down
Where you'll find me
Where we'll shine..."
The light floated above me and hung momentarily in the darkness before descending slowly down to me. At first, it was just a small, shapeless mass. However, as it drew nearer to me, the mass began to twist and warp, contorting itself into some meaningful form. Down it came, effortlessly down. Drawing nearer to me. The closer it came, the brighter it grew in its hypnotic illumination.
As the light brightened, the shape began to solidify its form. It grooved and melded into the soft shape of a being. It drew nearer. The light intensified. I began to notice the rhythms of my heartbeat clicking louder, louder. My blood started to sizzle in its fueling flow. My heart, accelerating, clicking stronger, stronger. With every inch the figure neared, my heart beat faster, faster.
Nearly right above me, the light defined its shape. The shape of a being. The shape of a human being. As I stared at it, eyes wide, heart pumping, pumping...the being defined itself. The hair grew long, the face delicate, the breasts enlarged, the belly sacred, the legs sleek. Female. The female form.
The second I recognized the form as female, my heart raced into hyper-drive, thundering loudly and drowning out all other noise. It beat ferociously until the figure outstretched its illuminated arm. The arm stretched to me and every fiber of my being craved it. I leaned forward and examined the body. Perfection. Every inch of it, every trace, a perfect physical specimen. I felt myself getting aroused. My eyes traced the perfect landscape making their way up to the face. Every detail was there. Every detail was perfect. Then, the face. I searched for the face. Who is this descending upon me?
My eyes looked to the face, searching, but it was not there. This perfect body, a most well defined female form, remained faceless. It's not that it wasn't there, but that it was there...hidden. A thin, white veil, like that of a wedding, draped over everything that was missing. This figure, this light, shrouded beneath a thin veil of unrelenting white light.
The faceless female figure, curled the fingers of its outstretched hand and softly whispered "come with me". The hand disintegrated into a thousand tiny fragments as a voice whispered 'Follow me'. As the last syllable lingered, the figure ascended and all that was bright, bright and full of light, dimmed back into the cold darkness. I stared out into the darkness, searching for the light that was...just a moment ago. Throughout the infinite darkness, the soft voice echoed, "I'm coming for you".
Cutting through the darkness, the flowing figure of a hand came down, down until it threatened to touch me. It cautiously patted and tapped through the black and the faint echo of a voice could be heard.
"Excuse me".
A gentle rub.
"Hello".
A fragile shake.
"Hey, wake up."
My eyes fluttered and flitted, quietly letting in the rays of the easy morning sun. The light crept in softly, filling my being with the weight of the world.
"Good Morning."
The voice from my dreamscape. I turned to find a young Hispanic lady standing next to me on the stoop. Her eyes were filled with light and with purpose. She smiled, a bright fluorescent smile. She was quite lovely.
"Are you okay"?
"Huh?", was all that I could mutter.
"I was just walking with my son and I noticed you sitting here and...well..."
She motioned down to the rumpled mess that was me. It quickly jolted me back into reality. I remembered the previous evenings events, though if given the chance, I would rather not.
"Um...yeah, I'm fine. Thanks."
"Are you sure? You don't look fin-"
"I'm okay, really. Thanks for asking. And for waking me up. I just had a long night. Really. Thank you."
"Okay then, we just saw you sitting here and thought...well, I don't know..."
"I understand. And I thank you. Really. I'm going to go inside and clean up now. Thank you."
She looked at me hesitantly, the look only a woman with children of her own could ever give.
"Okay...well...take care of yourself and have a great day."
"Sure...you too...and thanks again."
She nodded with a worried look in her eyes, then quietly turned and joined her young son back on the sidewalk. As the new sun grew brighter and hotter, I watched them, the boy and his mother.
They walked slowly down the sidewalk, not appearing to be in any particular hurry or even having a particular destination. They were just there, on the sidewalk, in the sun, in the day, in the moment, with each other. Just there. The little boy roamed about, not watching himself in accordance with foot traffic or crowd patterns. No, he was in his own element. In this world, but of his own point of view. His eyes were wide with curiosity as he took in all of the life and stimuli around him. They scattered and buzzed, searching wildly all of the questions and the mysteries that the street had to offer. He was curious. He was contemplative and a thirst for knowledge and a penchant for the imaginative sprang from a well deep inside of him that he will never probably understand. I like this boy.
His mother looks after him in the way only a mother with children can look. It is pure love. It is the purest, most primal, yet most powerful force on the entire planet: a mother's love for her child. I'm sitting here watching it. I am sitting here, in the morning sun, caked in blood, mud and shame...witnessing the most powerful force on the entire planet. My heart begins to swell up and grow tightly in my chest. I'm not even sure that I was still breathing. The swelling in my chest threatened to burst into tiny tears, but it suddenly deflated in a feat of melancholy. I look at the mother and child, and the black cloud descends.
He ran about, playing and questioning. She watched her little boy. They were in this moment and in this day. Someday she'll drop him off at school for the first time and she'll weep uncontrollably. Someday he'll be sent home from school and she'll question herself as a mother. Someday he would grow taller than her and she would garner wrinkles in her brown skin. Someday, they would fight and both would walk away wounded, but still full of love. Someday, he'll fall down...he'll make mistakes, he'll mess up his life, he'll break the rules, he'll hurt people's feelings, he fall hard. The way teenagers do. She'll pick him up because she has no choice, she is his mother. Someday, a darkness that resides in him will show itself. Someday, he will break his mother's heart. Someday, she'll lash out at him in ways she didn't think possible. Someday, she'll cry when she remembers it and cannot take it back. Someday she will have to watch him leave, she will have to watch her little boy leave, to go out into a world that does not love him and will not take care of him. Someday, she will try her best not to cry as her little boy walks out into the unknown to try and become a man. Someday, he will come home and tell her that he has met someone and she will see in his eyes that she is no longer his only love. Someday, she may go to a hospital and witness an event that first brought the two of them together, only now he is sharing that experience with someone else. Now, he has one of his own and his entire life will be forever changed. Someday, the three of them will walk down this street together and as she watches his little one twirl about the sidewalk with curiosity, she will remember this day, this moment and tell him that the child is just like the father when he was that age. She will cry. She will cry because she is his mother. Someday, she will grow old and frail and he will have to take care of her, the way she took care of him. Someday, she will have to say goodbye to him. Her child, her baby boy that, in this moment, is so innocently playing on these wayward streets. Someday, she will look at him and know that it will be the last time she ever sees her son. Someday, he will look at her, the woman who birthed him...who raised him...who forgave him...who loved him. He will look at her for the last time and he will tell her though she may not be his only love, she will always be his first love. She will tell him that though she may be going, her love for him will never come to pass, for it is the greatest force on earth. A mother's love for her child. Someday, these things will come to pass, in one form or another. Someday. But today, she is his mother and he is her baby boy and they are out in the sun and he is learning about the world around him while she watches over him with love and hope.
As I fade out of my daydream, the mother and child begin to fade from my vision. She will go on about her day and she will never know how her mere presence touched a complete strangers life and how much he appreciated her taking a moment away from her own son to ask if he was okay. She would never admit that once she saw a strange young mess of a man, crumbled and rumpled under his own trespasses and that when she saw him it broke her heart, it terrified her into compassion knowing that it could so easily be her own son one day. She'll never know that someone was secretly watching her and would later cry, hoping that she would always love her son and raise him to be a good man. She'll never know that.
My thoughts were disrupted once again by opening of my apartment building door. My building manager, Brutus, stepped outside,
"What the hell are you doing out here so early?" he asked, taking a cigarette from his pocket. His name was actually Harold, but most people called him Brutus because he was six foot five and weighed about three hundred pounds. Some of it was muscle and some of it was fat, but it was all intimidating. I turn around and look up at him. He startles slightly at my appearance.
"Holy shit, looks like you had a rough one last night."
"No, man, unfortunately it was just par for the course."
"Jesus. You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Eh tu, Brute?"
"Huh?"
"Never mind. I lost my key, can you let me in and let me borrow the spare key so I can make a copy?"
He nods. "You're a pain in the ass, you know that?"
"Yes, Brutus, I do. I do indeed."
Finally, I see the inside of my apartment. No one in the history of the world had ever been so excited to see a four hundred square foot, bug infested studio. I grab a beer from the refrigerator and put on a Band of Horses album.
Bed. It's such a lousy bed, but it feels so good as my battered body sprawls across it. I don't even bother removing the worn out, suit. I lie there, sipping my beer and staring at the ceiling as the melodies of a band of horses carry me off to somewhere different.
I look up at the white ceiling and it reminds me of the light, the light and the female figure beaming from my dreams. I snicker ironically at the silliness of my own subconscious. As I lie there, drinking beer and listening to music, I begin to fade out of consciousness. As I drift from this world to the dreamland, one phrase keeps echoing over and over in my mind. Over and over in my mind, like the darkest midnight lullaby it rings:
No one is coming for you, kid.
No one is coming for you...
Drinking: Pabst Blue Ribbon
Listening to: I Go To The Barn Because I Like The
By: Band of Horses