"Just Wind Blowing Through"
By: Lady Jenna
You ever notice how life moves a lot like a leaf falling from a tree? It twists and turns and spins in its place. Sometimes a strong wind comes along, and the leaf ends up some place, far, far away from where it intended to be. I've had a few strong gales in my lifetime. Most of them with curves and blonde hair, and legs that went all the way to the floor.
I was such a fool in my youth. I know everyone says that, but I damn well mean it. My mom died when I was fourteen, shortly there after my dad, a man whose halo always darkened me, moved my sister and I to some small town in Colorado. It was a 'Leave it to Beaver' kind of a place. Needless to say, a move from New York City small town Colorado, did not expand the options of ways to spend my time. So, I did what most teenage boys do when they get so bored they count stitches in the couch, I fell in love. There's something to regret.
Her name was Amy Abbott, way back then it was. She smiled at me on my first day of school. She was beautiful, I was alone, ingredients for love at first sight. A dreaded disease. No cure…. So I fell in love, and after I fell, I was soon enlightened. She had a boyfriend, in a coma, and she wanted my dad's help. Oddly, I don't regret asking him to save her boyfriend. Colin, that was the boyfriend's name, he was a good guy, after some brain surgery, I mean. Anyway, when Colin came to, he and Amy were still in love, more than before. I was glad for them, I guess, sad for me, but, glad for them. To love and be loved by the same person, that's always something to be happy about, even if it's not for you.
Anyway, years went by, we all grew up, and I moved back to New York City to go to school. I became a neurosurgeon, surprisingly; I got my father's gift for mind reading. Get it? Neurosurgeon, mind reading? Never mind…. Then, one day when I was studying for my Master's, I saw Amy on the street. I went over and talked to her. Two years later we got married. Another regret.
It was a huge wedding. Flowers, cake, a lot of white, small kids that swallowed things. She was happy, I was… happy. Three years later, we had a daughter. Julian Rose. She turns thirteen in a few weeks. Jesus, a teenager, and I won't be anywhere near her. You see, when Julian Rose was eight, Amy and I got sick of each other. I'm not sure how it happened, well, maybe I do; it happened slowly. Amy became, uninterested in me… and before any salacious thoughts enter your head, I don't mean in bed. Things in bed were fine, nothing was wrong there. She seemed uninterested in me as a person. More interested, well, obsessive… in things like her public image as wife of a famous neurosurgeon. Yeah, I'm famous. Amy became Jackie Kennedy; only, I was no John Fitzgerald. So we got divorced. She got custody of Julian Rose, because I work so much and a bunch of other shit. I see Julian Rose at holidays and we drop each other a line every now and then. I used to call every week, but, that stopped. A year after the divorce, Amy and my daughter moved in with Colin, a year after that, the Amy Abbott that had become Amy Brown, became Amy Hart. Julian Rose is a still a Brown though, Amy tried to take that away from her, from me, but Julian Rose fought it, a true Brown.
So that's the update on the life of Ephram Brown, Dr. Ephram Brown, actually. Well, a current update would be, I'm sitting in a bar, spinning a bottle of beer in my hand, watching as a whirlpool formed. It's kind of funny; a whirlpool is a force so great it can destroy ships, cities, almost anything near water. And here I am, creating this power with my own hand, safely inside of a cool bottle of beer. Maybe to God, the giant, killer whirlpools, are just in a bottle of beer. Though, of course… that might just be the idea of a guy whose had three beers, which, I have… Well what do you expect? My ex-wife and her husband are in Paris, planning my daughter's birthday, and I'm not in them. Sure I sent her something, some expensive gift with a card and flowers. I'd give almost anything to see her face when she gets them, but I have to save a four year old boy's life that day.
It's amazing how sons become their fathers. Well, amazing in a horrible, blood curdling kind of way. Keep in mind, I do love my father, it just took twenty years. I didn't want it like that; I wanted to be there for Julian Rose, for every day of her life. I wanted to cause every smile, and heal every tear. I wanted to be her father, and I wanted it to mean something good. But here I am, sitting in a bad smelling bar with a bunch of guys who don't even know what a neurosurgeon is, a thousand miles away from my daughter.
I'm forty-three now, and have less to show for my time then my father did. When my father was forty-three, he had a successful practice, a still loving wife, and two kids who, despite all outward appearances, really wanted him to be there. I have a practice, sure, but no wife, and a daughter who probably blames me for every bad thing that's ever happened to her. I would.
I remember, when Julian Rose was still a toddler, she'd refuse to go to school unless I took her. It was my lap she wanted to sit on, my hair she wanted to style. She paid more attention to me, gave more love to me, than she ever did to Amy. That's probably why, after the divorce, Amy got her as far away from me as possible. Amy used to be nice. She used to be caring and comfortable to be with. I really did used to love her, and I think she loved me back. But, she changed, or I changed, or both. Now every time she speaks to me, I can practically see the disdain pouring off of each and every word. Recently Amy told me that Julian Rose blamed me for the divorce. I don't know if that was true or not, but it hurt anyway. It wasn't so much as if someone had shot an arrow through my heart, it felt more like someone was pulling it out, doing even more damage, if that was possible.
After a few beers I walked to my apartment. I didn't drive, even drunk I'm not that stupid, plus my place was only a few blocks away. Even at one in the morning the streets of New York City are loud and noisy, but maybe it's just amplified by the amount of alcohol in my blood. There certainly seems to be a ringing I don't remember hearing before. Anyway, in my apartment I just kick off my shoes and fall asleep on my bed, not bothering to get under my covers. The maid must have been in, my blankets smell nice.