DISCLAIMER : I DO NOT OWN THESE CHARACTERS ..BUT LIKE AUTHOR OF -REUNIFICATION- I WOULDN'T MIND OWNING ERIC STOLTZ.
REVIEWS: PLEASE REVIEW ..FEEDBACK!!!! I WOULD LIKE TO THINK I'M LIKE DIMITRI AND DON'T READ REVIEWS BUT UNFORTUNATELY AN INNER GRACE LURKS.... I DO REALLY REALLY WANT REVIEWS. REALLY. I HAVE ALL THESE OPPOSING SIDES WITHIN MYSELF IT SEEMS.
CHAPTER SUMMARY: I FELT OBLIGED TO PUT UP A NEW CHAPTER QUICKLY TO HONOUR THE COMING OF AUGUST (OF COURSE I MEAN THE MONTH....AMONG OTHER THINGS :) THIS IS PROBABLY BEST READ WHILE LISTENING TO THE "NEW DYLAN ALBUM" ESPECIALLY SONG MISSISSIPPI IS WOW! CHAPTER TITLE IS INSPIRED BY VAN GOGH PAINTING PINK ROSES AND MR DIMITRI'S LAPEL, AND MAYBE MORE SO THE WAY HE LOOKED WHEN GRACE TOUCHED HIS CUP, HIS HAND, HIS HEART.
EMAIL; jeanl2@sympatico.ca
STILL LIFE: PINK ROSES
Grace was at Booklovers sitting at a table near the counter. A mango fruit drink before her and a copy of The Book of Ruth in her hands. She was just finishing it on recommendation from Judy. It was an awful book. Was that what they thought of her. Damaged. That she would always be alone. Looking across the room, he eyes rested on a strangers back. Why did she do that.. always look for him in a crowd like she expected -- and really in Booklovers of all places. She had never truly understood Orlando. She didn't understand Ruth. She didn't want to and who could she possibly tell if she did happen to. Understand that is -sort of. Grace looked down at the page and the words rose before her floating into the atmosphere. Stifling the air. Breath.
" I looked up Truth the other day also. The word has a lot to do with seeing clearly, and with things that are honest and beautiful. Perhaps I should change my name to Ruth Truth. The combination of pity and compassion with honesty and beauty would be a real knockout. People might not see me come into a room but they'd feel like there was something unusual in the air- I have a lot of fantasy dreams. I guess, because I'm by myself so much. I'm not bored too often, though. I have my entire life to think about. I have ghosts to order away from my room."
She set down the book. Australia. It had fallen through or a least been carefully placed aside like a dusty old book. Not forgotten just temporarely set aside. It was still raw though the thoughts about Australia. She had wanted to go, she had voiced she wanted go, she had leafed through the maps and books and information pamphets. She had screamed in the silence of her pillow - How could she go? How would he find her there? But in the morning when the dream was over she remembered he wasn't looking. He wouldn't ever be looking to her again. Which of Donne's poems would she have chosen? The Canonization. She wished she could have told him that. It was strange the way nothing could suddenly have meaning. Once she wouldn't have noticed back when everything was happening.
She got up and started looking over the shelves. She picked up While I Was Gone. It was Oprah endorsed and there was a cute dog on the cover. She smiled at the dog.
~***********************************************~
Later ..........[Grace reading]
"I argued that you couldn't get hung up about guilt or responsibility for what had already happened. That what mattered was the moment, who you were now, how you lived in this place, at this time. I remember that I felt he was being unimaginative, uptight. I remember that I felt I was defending my life and the choices I'd made"
She started to read out loud from Sue Miller's paperback,
"I was sometimes miserable, often bitterly lonely with the distance my situation imposed. At the same time, I was happier than I'd ever been. I felt I'd come to see and understand, finally, that there was a way to live among others that didn't require falsyfying yourself. Somehow all the lies I'd told didn't figure in this vision. Or were cancelled out by what I saw as its deeper truth.
It wasn't that I had been conscious of falsyfying myself when I was living my other life. I'm sure I hadn't. I think, in fact, that I was barely conscious of having a self in the world. My mother tells me that I was a wilful little girl, but I don't remember that. What I remember is later, when I wasn't willful anymore: the inner calm of knowing I was satisfying expectations, I was pleasing. The self isn't important in such a feeling. It was only as I began to startle and disappoint others that I was aware of myself at all- that I came to understand, slowly, that I wasn't who I had pretended to be. And now, when I was pretending to be someone completely other than myself , I felt, for the first time, at home in my skin."
It was it. The essence of acting. The stage for her. If only she could show August that. August. She stopped thinking or started thinking all the more. He was August now.
"I saw Mr.Dimitri the other day?"
"What?--"
Grace was startled fumbling dropping her book. Jessie had come in the living room. She approached the sofa and sat down on the edge. Jessie looked off towards the kitchen and lowered her voice.
"He was coming out of a convenience store with a newspaper. And get this--"
"He doesn't read newspapers."
"I guess he does now. "
"And he cut his hair"
Grace was turning white.
"Nothing drastic but it was definitely trimmed. I wouldn't have recognized him expect for his coat."
Lily called from the kitchen "Hello" and started to move down the hall towards the girls.
"Can we talk". They all moved into the kitchen.
~**********************************************~
That night she thought. It was what he wanted. It had to end because what future should there possibly be. She smiled. Only the future she always knew there would be. She had always had a particular thought that she liked best and re-used many times playing it over in her mind. She would be getting ready for some event. They were going somewhere. Together . In public. And as she leaned by the mirror he would come up behind her. He would fasten the clasp of her necklace. Seashells. Not the same necklace, no a different one. One they had found together. She closed her eyes remembering the details of his face. The way he looked that day when he said "it's lovely". A tear started to fall. The face wasn't the same and she couldn't remember it. It was slipping away. All except his eyes. His eyes never left her. They always found her. She remembered the first time she knew she was found. The way his eyes looked. He had needed her. He was the first person to ever need her. The first person she ever recognized the feeling of being incomplete in, besides in a reflection. Maybe that was why she dreamed that same scene over. It completed the picture somehow. She smiled because sometimes in her dreams they never made it to the party. She could send him the poem by John Donne. Dismissing that thought Grace seized upon what she needed. Was she a horrible person? But he would have to let her in.
~*********************************************~
"So he's reinstated" Rick asked looking up from his book.
"No. Thank god. He still has his credentials and license, but he won't be returning. Offically the word is he decided to pursue other interests."
"Other interests."
"Not mine. I expected he will keep teaching but it won't be at Upton Sinclair."
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing."
"I haven't decided yet.. Alexa's mom said Alexa was disappointed but I mean-- he's not god." Lily said climbing under the covers.
"You sound like Grace."
Lily smiled , her eyes creasing...
"Well if you expect me to fall for him now. Well........."
Rick raised his eyebrows and smiled.
"And it's better. I mean that they are not in the same school. It would have been ackward. But I wonder if it wouldn't have been safer".
~*********************************************~
The next evening in August Dimitri's kitchen.....
"They're having a baby. How can they do this to me. How can she?
"I don't understand."
"My mother and Rick. She's having a baby. A baby."
He put the kettle on the stove and they waited for it to whistle. It sounded like a train pulling into a station. Grace leaned against the counter and looked down at some papers her sleeve had pushed. A theatre magazine and a notebook.
Dimitri, " What do you take in your tea?"
"Just cream. Thanks."
Grace continued on, "Look I don't want you to say anything. God, that's the last thing I need is too discuss it anymore. [sarcastically] What do you think Grace, what do you want a boy or a girl, lets talk about babies. When parents do this it is just wrong! "
"Only when 'parents' do it, huh"
"Please."
She looked up at him to find a half smile on his face. He had been surprised to find her at his door but he hadn't asked for an explanation yet. It was late and she was obviously tired and upset. Bob Dylan's Love and Theft played in the other room... a song called Mississippi.
"Time is falling out
We struggle in the stream
Were almost there
No where to escape.....
I was raised in the country
I've been working in the town
I've been in trouble ever since I set my suitcase down
Got nothing for you
I had nothing before
Not even have anything for myself anymore...
All my powers of expression
My thoughts so sublime
Could never do you justice
In reason or in rhyme
Only one thing I did wrong
Stayed in mississippi a day too long
Well the devils in the yellow
Muse in the storm
Say anything you wanna
I have heard it all
I was thinking bout the things
That roses said.
I was dreaming I was sleeping in roses again."
"Grace .", Dimitri hesitated serious now.
"I can't . I can't go back there . "
"But you can't stay here. It's not that I don't---- but for now--' [she stopped him]
"I know. And I'm sorry for tonight. But I had to. I had to. Because it couldn't ---"
"I know. I knew that. [smile] Give me some credit would you."
"Extra credit."
She reached out her arm to take his hand. It was the most natural thing in the world. He looked down at her hand and turned his own over to hold hers.
"Grace"
"Look . It's ok."
"Yeh. It is. Ok."
She looked up and him. His eyes had something she had never seen before. Even in her dreams. It was a look she could never have described. It was a look she had never seen before. She had felt it before , but never seen it. Because last time the tears were too many to see quite clearly and she had left too quickly. Had to. But now,
Leaning in she pushed a lock of his hair back.
"When. [still fingering the hair]... did you. "
"Does it change things."
"Nothing ever changes things.. [her hand moved away from his hair]
He leaned in and started to kiss her. Gently then more. His hands on her back started to slide down stopping at her waist. His lips parting for a moment allowing her to breath.
"We can't"
"We can't not"
This time she began the kiss. He was holding her shirt tails now in his hands so very delicately. She brought her hands moving down his arms and back up. His arms felt cold to touch.
"Is there somewhere we can go?"
'"In the house?
"Yes.
He was unbuttoning her shirt now.
"You always had it in for seeing my bedroom didn't you. Where I sleep--"
"Oh my god---"
"Just joking. I can make jokes you know"
"You know I can't stay."
" I know. Just for a while."
He took her hand and they went upstairs.
Bob Dylan~~~~
"So many things that we never will do
I know you're sorry and I'm sorry to...
I cross that river just to be where you are ..
Well my ship been split to splinters
And it's sinking fast
I'm travelling in the poison
Got no future got no past
But my heart is not weary
It's alive, it's free
I've got nothing but affection for love that's sailed to me"
REVIEWS: PLEASE REVIEW ..FEEDBACK!!!! I WOULD LIKE TO THINK I'M LIKE DIMITRI AND DON'T READ REVIEWS BUT UNFORTUNATELY AN INNER GRACE LURKS.... I DO REALLY REALLY WANT REVIEWS. REALLY. I HAVE ALL THESE OPPOSING SIDES WITHIN MYSELF IT SEEMS.
CHAPTER SUMMARY: I FELT OBLIGED TO PUT UP A NEW CHAPTER QUICKLY TO HONOUR THE COMING OF AUGUST (OF COURSE I MEAN THE MONTH....AMONG OTHER THINGS :) THIS IS PROBABLY BEST READ WHILE LISTENING TO THE "NEW DYLAN ALBUM" ESPECIALLY SONG MISSISSIPPI IS WOW! CHAPTER TITLE IS INSPIRED BY VAN GOGH PAINTING PINK ROSES AND MR DIMITRI'S LAPEL, AND MAYBE MORE SO THE WAY HE LOOKED WHEN GRACE TOUCHED HIS CUP, HIS HAND, HIS HEART.
EMAIL; jeanl2@sympatico.ca
STILL LIFE: PINK ROSES
Grace was at Booklovers sitting at a table near the counter. A mango fruit drink before her and a copy of The Book of Ruth in her hands. She was just finishing it on recommendation from Judy. It was an awful book. Was that what they thought of her. Damaged. That she would always be alone. Looking across the room, he eyes rested on a strangers back. Why did she do that.. always look for him in a crowd like she expected -- and really in Booklovers of all places. She had never truly understood Orlando. She didn't understand Ruth. She didn't want to and who could she possibly tell if she did happen to. Understand that is -sort of. Grace looked down at the page and the words rose before her floating into the atmosphere. Stifling the air. Breath.
" I looked up Truth the other day also. The word has a lot to do with seeing clearly, and with things that are honest and beautiful. Perhaps I should change my name to Ruth Truth. The combination of pity and compassion with honesty and beauty would be a real knockout. People might not see me come into a room but they'd feel like there was something unusual in the air- I have a lot of fantasy dreams. I guess, because I'm by myself so much. I'm not bored too often, though. I have my entire life to think about. I have ghosts to order away from my room."
She set down the book. Australia. It had fallen through or a least been carefully placed aside like a dusty old book. Not forgotten just temporarely set aside. It was still raw though the thoughts about Australia. She had wanted to go, she had voiced she wanted go, she had leafed through the maps and books and information pamphets. She had screamed in the silence of her pillow - How could she go? How would he find her there? But in the morning when the dream was over she remembered he wasn't looking. He wouldn't ever be looking to her again. Which of Donne's poems would she have chosen? The Canonization. She wished she could have told him that. It was strange the way nothing could suddenly have meaning. Once she wouldn't have noticed back when everything was happening.
She got up and started looking over the shelves. She picked up While I Was Gone. It was Oprah endorsed and there was a cute dog on the cover. She smiled at the dog.
~***********************************************~
Later ..........[Grace reading]
"I argued that you couldn't get hung up about guilt or responsibility for what had already happened. That what mattered was the moment, who you were now, how you lived in this place, at this time. I remember that I felt he was being unimaginative, uptight. I remember that I felt I was defending my life and the choices I'd made"
She started to read out loud from Sue Miller's paperback,
"I was sometimes miserable, often bitterly lonely with the distance my situation imposed. At the same time, I was happier than I'd ever been. I felt I'd come to see and understand, finally, that there was a way to live among others that didn't require falsyfying yourself. Somehow all the lies I'd told didn't figure in this vision. Or were cancelled out by what I saw as its deeper truth.
It wasn't that I had been conscious of falsyfying myself when I was living my other life. I'm sure I hadn't. I think, in fact, that I was barely conscious of having a self in the world. My mother tells me that I was a wilful little girl, but I don't remember that. What I remember is later, when I wasn't willful anymore: the inner calm of knowing I was satisfying expectations, I was pleasing. The self isn't important in such a feeling. It was only as I began to startle and disappoint others that I was aware of myself at all- that I came to understand, slowly, that I wasn't who I had pretended to be. And now, when I was pretending to be someone completely other than myself , I felt, for the first time, at home in my skin."
It was it. The essence of acting. The stage for her. If only she could show August that. August. She stopped thinking or started thinking all the more. He was August now.
"I saw Mr.Dimitri the other day?"
"What?--"
Grace was startled fumbling dropping her book. Jessie had come in the living room. She approached the sofa and sat down on the edge. Jessie looked off towards the kitchen and lowered her voice.
"He was coming out of a convenience store with a newspaper. And get this--"
"He doesn't read newspapers."
"I guess he does now. "
"And he cut his hair"
Grace was turning white.
"Nothing drastic but it was definitely trimmed. I wouldn't have recognized him expect for his coat."
Lily called from the kitchen "Hello" and started to move down the hall towards the girls.
"Can we talk". They all moved into the kitchen.
~**********************************************~
That night she thought. It was what he wanted. It had to end because what future should there possibly be. She smiled. Only the future she always knew there would be. She had always had a particular thought that she liked best and re-used many times playing it over in her mind. She would be getting ready for some event. They were going somewhere. Together . In public. And as she leaned by the mirror he would come up behind her. He would fasten the clasp of her necklace. Seashells. Not the same necklace, no a different one. One they had found together. She closed her eyes remembering the details of his face. The way he looked that day when he said "it's lovely". A tear started to fall. The face wasn't the same and she couldn't remember it. It was slipping away. All except his eyes. His eyes never left her. They always found her. She remembered the first time she knew she was found. The way his eyes looked. He had needed her. He was the first person to ever need her. The first person she ever recognized the feeling of being incomplete in, besides in a reflection. Maybe that was why she dreamed that same scene over. It completed the picture somehow. She smiled because sometimes in her dreams they never made it to the party. She could send him the poem by John Donne. Dismissing that thought Grace seized upon what she needed. Was she a horrible person? But he would have to let her in.
~*********************************************~
"So he's reinstated" Rick asked looking up from his book.
"No. Thank god. He still has his credentials and license, but he won't be returning. Offically the word is he decided to pursue other interests."
"Other interests."
"Not mine. I expected he will keep teaching but it won't be at Upton Sinclair."
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing."
"I haven't decided yet.. Alexa's mom said Alexa was disappointed but I mean-- he's not god." Lily said climbing under the covers.
"You sound like Grace."
Lily smiled , her eyes creasing...
"Well if you expect me to fall for him now. Well........."
Rick raised his eyebrows and smiled.
"And it's better. I mean that they are not in the same school. It would have been ackward. But I wonder if it wouldn't have been safer".
~*********************************************~
The next evening in August Dimitri's kitchen.....
"They're having a baby. How can they do this to me. How can she?
"I don't understand."
"My mother and Rick. She's having a baby. A baby."
He put the kettle on the stove and they waited for it to whistle. It sounded like a train pulling into a station. Grace leaned against the counter and looked down at some papers her sleeve had pushed. A theatre magazine and a notebook.
Dimitri, " What do you take in your tea?"
"Just cream. Thanks."
Grace continued on, "Look I don't want you to say anything. God, that's the last thing I need is too discuss it anymore. [sarcastically] What do you think Grace, what do you want a boy or a girl, lets talk about babies. When parents do this it is just wrong! "
"Only when 'parents' do it, huh"
"Please."
She looked up at him to find a half smile on his face. He had been surprised to find her at his door but he hadn't asked for an explanation yet. It was late and she was obviously tired and upset. Bob Dylan's Love and Theft played in the other room... a song called Mississippi.
"Time is falling out
We struggle in the stream
Were almost there
No where to escape.....
I was raised in the country
I've been working in the town
I've been in trouble ever since I set my suitcase down
Got nothing for you
I had nothing before
Not even have anything for myself anymore...
All my powers of expression
My thoughts so sublime
Could never do you justice
In reason or in rhyme
Only one thing I did wrong
Stayed in mississippi a day too long
Well the devils in the yellow
Muse in the storm
Say anything you wanna
I have heard it all
I was thinking bout the things
That roses said.
I was dreaming I was sleeping in roses again."
"Grace .", Dimitri hesitated serious now.
"I can't . I can't go back there . "
"But you can't stay here. It's not that I don't---- but for now--' [she stopped him]
"I know. And I'm sorry for tonight. But I had to. I had to. Because it couldn't ---"
"I know. I knew that. [smile] Give me some credit would you."
"Extra credit."
She reached out her arm to take his hand. It was the most natural thing in the world. He looked down at her hand and turned his own over to hold hers.
"Grace"
"Look . It's ok."
"Yeh. It is. Ok."
She looked up and him. His eyes had something she had never seen before. Even in her dreams. It was a look she could never have described. It was a look she had never seen before. She had felt it before , but never seen it. Because last time the tears were too many to see quite clearly and she had left too quickly. Had to. But now,
Leaning in she pushed a lock of his hair back.
"When. [still fingering the hair]... did you. "
"Does it change things."
"Nothing ever changes things.. [her hand moved away from his hair]
He leaned in and started to kiss her. Gently then more. His hands on her back started to slide down stopping at her waist. His lips parting for a moment allowing her to breath.
"We can't"
"We can't not"
This time she began the kiss. He was holding her shirt tails now in his hands so very delicately. She brought her hands moving down his arms and back up. His arms felt cold to touch.
"Is there somewhere we can go?"
'"In the house?
"Yes.
He was unbuttoning her shirt now.
"You always had it in for seeing my bedroom didn't you. Where I sleep--"
"Oh my god---"
"Just joking. I can make jokes you know"
"You know I can't stay."
" I know. Just for a while."
He took her hand and they went upstairs.
Bob Dylan~~~~
"So many things that we never will do
I know you're sorry and I'm sorry to...
I cross that river just to be where you are ..
Well my ship been split to splinters
And it's sinking fast
I'm travelling in the poison
Got no future got no past
But my heart is not weary
It's alive, it's free
I've got nothing but affection for love that's sailed to me"