The Sweet Hereafter: Bad Timing
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Part XXXII: And So It Goes
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"People come up and say Hello. Okay. I can get to the front of the line, but you have to ignore the looks. And…yet…I'm waiting for that feeling of contentment. That ease at night when you put your head down and the rhythms slow to sleep. My head sways and eyes start awake. I'm there not halfway between sleep and death but looking into eyes wide open. Trying to remember. . .what I might have done. Should've done…I need serenity. I need peace. It hasn't happened yet."
--William Shatner
"It Hasn't Happened Yet"
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Modern myth teaches us that 'twas an apple which caused man, woman, and the world we live upon to be placed under a curse. I'm beginning to believe in it. I'm having one of those live where everything I touch turns to crap. Still, I hold out hope that I can be saved. Every time I look at him, I'm reminded that there is good in this world. Is that what makes my soar? The hope that he might make me better than I am? That he will somehow save me? That despite everything I have done to sabotage any hope of redemption, he may yet see something within me? The pit in my stomach opens wide and deep, because I know I will resist him if he does come to pick me up from this wretched existence I am eking out. How do I come to fight against what I most desire? Do I want to be destroyed? Am I seeking out some way to punish myself for all the mistakes I've made in life? Are my inner demons determined to drive me into the fetal position? Shall I lie down and die, or should I fight back against myself. Seize control of my aggressive side and use it to confront my true desires?
No. Because I am a coward. I can't take any chances no matter how great the reward might be. Mayhaps this is my opportunity to get it right. I must be nearly out of them by now. But what course shall I follow? Should I be pressing my element of surprise? Enthralling him with the remembrances of unexpected soft lips and stiff matted hair, a quiet soul full of yearning? Prove once and for all that I am more than I let on. That he was right about me? I'm running out of time. And even if he now knows the truth, it doesn't mean anything until I tell him myself, does it?
Olga's voice as she sings in tandem with Vanessa Carlton is a little eerie. She does it was such passion, causing me to wonder where I get it from. Miriam may not have amounted to much in life, but since I'm stuck being a Pataki, I'd like to think I have a little of her in me. Being just another version of Bob is a disappointment I'm not yet ready to cope with. Every little thing I can get on my side will help. No wonder dad and I don't talk. I guess Olga is the closest thing I get when it comes to guidance. No wonder I'm so screwed up.
"If I could just see you. . .if I could just hold you. . . . .tonight. . . ." Olga raises her arms to the ceiling with perfect poise. Barring the con artist, how could she not have found herself a husband by now? What's wrong? Having beauty, grace, and talent doesn't give you an edge anymore? I wish she would find someone to settle down with. Then maybe she wouldn't come home so often and I could sleep a little easier at night.
"Gee, Olga, you belted that out like you were on stage." I rolled my eyes.
"But Baby Sister, I'm always on stage." Olga winks. I lift my head up towards the heavens, shaking it back and forth. The worst part about what she said is true. I guess that's what keeps me from losing all my patience with her. Because as much fun as it is to dream up ways to make her suffer, perhaps it's true that a part of her is always crying inside. Maybe I could bring myself to feel sorry for her. Unfortunately, I don't have much of a conscience anymore.
Our reverie was interrupted by a voice coming from the radio. "And this one goes out to Tish, a guy named Tino wants you to know you're missed while you're away. Here's Billy Joel. Hey Yowwzzzaa!"
"Yowza to him too." Arnold chuckled as he walked in the room, tossing a paper cup into the garbage.
I silenced him with a look neither fierce nor gentle after hearing the first piano notes come through the speaker. Who gives a flip about Tony or Trish, this is my song! I copied these words onto the inside of the fifth volume of my poetry collections.
In every heart, there is a room
A sanctuary safe and strong
To heal the wound from lovers past
Until a new one comes along
I dragged my IV to the chair sitting next to the radio, plunking myself into it. I heard Olga call my name, but I shushed her as well, leaning my head back, thumbing the volume up on the radio and shutting my eyes to block out any distractions.
I spoke to you, in cautious tones
You answered me with no pretense
And still I feel I've said too much
My silence is my self-defense
And every time I've held a rose
It seems I only felt the thorns
And so it goes, and so it goes
And so will you soon, I suppose
Was that my voice I could hear, softly speaking the words in tune to the music? Now this is poetry. And I don't care who knows it. My sister had fallen into step and was quietly singing herself. I wasn't angry about that. Her voice mercifully drowned out my own. Thank heaven for small favors.
But if my silence made you leave
Then that would be my worst mistake
So I will share this room with you
And you can have this heart to break
Sometimes words can hit a little too close to home. I open my right eye and steal al look at Arnold. He's facing the window, standing quietly, head help up towards the skyline. A pity I have no idea what he's thinking about right now. I'd give a lot more than two cents to know, that's for sure.
And this is why my eyes are closed
It's just as well from what I've seen
And so it goes, and so it goes
And you're the only one who knows
Love is a really curious thing, we have no way of controlling how or when it hits. If I'm not a perfect example, I don't know what is. Love is just something we have to blindly trust, even though it can lead us into danger. Many a quiet, rainy Friday night I have stayed huddled in my darkened room, questioning my heart and if I were truly on the right path. Can you blame me? Someone my age should not have the intense feelings I do. Love, hate, jealousy, fear. . .they all attack me ferociously from all sides. The explanation that I keep coming back to is that I was forced to speed up my own emotional development or spend my live crying over how unfair everything is. That's not my style. When life hands you lemons, throw them at the people that piss you off, that's my motto. The house I live in is cold, and I refuse to be delicate. Too bad it hasn't saved me from becoming brittle.
The long and short of it is, I need someone who won't let me down. And Arnold has never failed me. No matter what I do to him, he's always right there to help me up when I fall. Now if I could only train myself not to slap the hand away, I could get something going. While no one is perfect, and while I know someday he is going to disappoint me, it's still a much better track record than Bob and Miriam can offer. They'd never admit it to me, but I'm certain I have always been a big surprise to them. Maybe I was never meant to exist. You'd probably think that really gets me angry, but the thought actually gives me a lot of strength. I came through against the odds, and I've survived this far on my own. I try to focus in on that when I just feel I can't take things anymore, and suddenly, I feel more alive. It's one of the few things about myself I don't hate, one of those undeniable positive traits that even I can't destroy.
So I would choose to be with you
That's if the choice were mine to make
But you can make decisions too
And you can have this heart to break
Damn me to hell if that's not exactly how I feel. But I just won't say it. No matter how hard I try, in the end I just end up plunging the knife deeper into my chest. Why am I so determined to leave myself miserable? I've never been this close to having it all before, and I can hear my sick and twisted little mind hatching schemes to once more deprive me of it all. 'Who will rescue me from this body of death?' The Apostle Paul once asked. It's been a long time since I've been to church, I'm certainly no holy roller, but I know what he must've been feeling. The urge to jump up and bang my head against the wall is overpowering, and the only thing keeping me from fracturing my skull is the fact that Arnold and Olga will think I'm crazier than they already do. It wouldn't be that far from the truth.
And so it goes, and so it goes
And you're the only one who knows
Slowly, I open my eyes, hastily turning the radio off as the voice of the worlds most annoying deejay comes back on. Arnold is looking at me intently. Even Olga's gaze meets mine. Are they really so shocked? "What're you looking at, Football Head?"
"Nothing! Nothing at all." He turns away from me like a child about to be punished. As well he should. Criminey, I've got to time these things better."
"Helga. . ." Olga kneels beside my chair, basking in the afterglow. "That was just so beautiful." If she cries any harder, her tears are going to turn into waterfalls. Her mascara is already running. That's it. There's only so much of this crap I can take. I stand up, gripping the metal stand next to me so hard that it rattles. I stare down both of the both of them, my eyes darting back and forth like one of those cat clocks with the moving eyes and tail. And then I storm out of there, desperate to get some air and a little space. They just don't get it.
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Part XXXIII: One Step Over The Line
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"So back off your
rules
Back off your jive
'Cause I'm sick of not living
Just stayin' alive
Leave me alone
I'm not asking a lot
I don't want to be controlled
It's all I want
It's all I want
It's all I want
It's all I want"
--The Offspring
"All I Want"
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I've been here before. I remember laughing. What was I thinking? I've nothing left to laugh about. Everything right is wrong again. I press my forehead against the glass, chilled with the heat from outside. It feels surprisingly good. But still I have to fight the urge to cry. I think I'm going out of my mind. Somebody please help me. I don't even know who I am anymore, what I'm becoming. But every second that goes by now is another I've lost. Time, time, time. It just isn't on my side. If only I could stop the world from turning, give myself more time to get things right. But I just can't do it. I can't do anything. I surrender already. Just make it stop! I feel so nauseous, but I can't let anyone know, or they'll never let me out of here.
Would that be a bad thing? I could buy myself more time if I stayed, keep myself purer. I could see him everyday, no consequences. Maybe that's not quite reality. Maybe I don't care. I just want it all to end. I want to know who I am, what I'm supposed to do.
My palms press flatly against the glass, leaving marks in the condensation. The window is so wide, this hallway so quiet and empty. And yet, I feel as though these walls are closing in on me, determined to crush my heart and soul. Perhaps that would be accurate, but I fear there isn't much left of me to break.
My left fist clenches and I raise it up, and I'm only able to stop it mere milliseconds before I would've swung with all my might. The heck with it, his arms around my waist just feel too good to pass up. I shouldn't let it pass with him, shouldn't allow myself the reward or the comfort, but it's far too late to stop now.
"It'll be okay, Helga." Arnold. Always Arnold. Sweet of him to try and reassure me at a time like this.
"No it won't!" I yell at him, causing him to hold on a little tighter. I stamp my right foot, annoyed beyond measure that I can't get him to give up on me.
"Sure it will. You can get out of here, get some fresh air, go back home where you belong."
"I don't want to go home."
"Then would you rather stay here for a few more days?"
"No." Great. Now he's laughing at me. I just don't get how he can always see the lighter, brighter side of everything.
"Okay, Helga. So what do you want?" Now there's a question, bucko. To be honest, I don't really know. And even if I could figure that out, I doubt that I'd know how to go about getting it. I'm a real mess. I mean, more than usual.
"I don't know. I've never been very good at figuring that out. Any suggestions, Arnoldo?"
"I think you should do what you really want. Not what everyone else wants." Perfect. In that case, I'm going to get a job as an actor and double as muscle for hire. We can get married and go on a world cruise, where I'll be discovered and take my show on the road. My stage partner Raul will be the cause of unbridled jealousy, and the two of you will duel in a winner take all battle to possess my unwavering heart. Hey, that's pretty good. I smell novel!
"I want to find one perfect moment in time and hold onto it, never let it go. Live in it eternally. Is that possible?"
"Probably not. But you should always strive towards your dreams." I can feel his warm smile on my back, and I can't help but turn towards him, sizing him up as though I've only just met him.
"What if you've been working so long and hard that the line between your dream and your nightmare has become blurred? What if I can't recognize it anymore."
"You can lose track of all the important things if you trust your mind to hold onto them for you, Helga. If you want to find your dream once again, start looking here." He smiled again, thumping his left fist against his heart. "The most important answers can always be found here."
"What if I can't trust my heart?"
"Some things we just have to do on faith. And sometimes, you need a push. Your sister told me to run after you, you know."
"Olga told you to come?" Even when I try to get away from her, she's still trying to meddle!
"Yeah. And I'm glad I did."
"It's hard not to do what Olga says. She can be very persuasive." I smirked. I've got you now, bucko!
"I guess." Oh, please. Don't try to be coy with me!
"Don't think I buy it for a second, Hair Boy. She's one of the prettiest faces you'll ever see, and you know it!"
"Great set of legs too." Is he blushing? I can't believe he just said that! Of all the nerve! Is he trying to push my buttons, because it's working admirably!
"I really ought to pound you for that one." I say, trying to decide which of my two favorite fists deserves the honor. Too bad he knows I would never hit him. Shove him, mock him, humiliate him, yes. But I wouldn't hit him. Maybe he's always known that much.
"You can always kill me for it later, Helga." Be careful what you wish for, Arnold. I just might. He knew that comment would get to me, no two ways about it. He's really been pushing his luck all weekend. Hmpf. Not that I don't enjoy the banter. And the company. "Does she always bother you this much?"
I could feel myself sighing, my entire body just growing weary of having to deal with it all. "Not always, but often. Enough so that I look forward to her visits with the same anticipation I normally reserve for having a root canal."
"Do you really hate her?" Criminey! You're determined to know everything about this, aren't you?
"There are days. . ." Was all I needed to say. It was the truth. Some days I just seemed to pour all my energies into making her suffer. Not that it seemed to work very well. Maybe it isn't any real solution to my problem, but it sure makes me feel a lot better!
"Sometimes I wish I had a brother or sister. But at least the place never feels empty with so many boarders. There's always something going on where I live. I guess that makes for a warm house. I really couldn't imagine what it would be like around our dinner table without Mr. Hyunh or Mr. Potts or even Mr. and Mrs. Kokoshka. It may not be a traditional family, but it's family nonetheless." Arnold nodded.
"Well, Arnold, I can't exactly say I know much about 'traditional families," I explained, putting the phrase in quotes for him. Dysfunctional isn't a description for us, it's a lifestyle. But I think I've done pretty well for myself."
"Getting better all the time." Arnold smirked. "So you still haven't answered my question. What do you want?" The patterns in the large square tiles that made up the hallway floor suddenly became very interesting. How did they get all those white flecks into the olive green? How was each piece so perfectly cut and interlocking? I'd never done a puzzle that came out so well. If I weren't hooked up to this stupid IV, I could slide all over the floor in my socks. That's always fun. I guess there's a day coming when I won't be able to do that anymore. At least not in public. "Helga?"
When I lift my eyes to look into his own, I can't fathom how small they can look sometimes, and others, like they're large enough for me to drown in. The flecks in his eyes are not dissimilar to the very ones we're standing on. It's difficult to look away from him. Deep down, I don't really want to. I know he's trying to read me. His gaze is locked with mine, now, following me wherever I go. I could almost show him. No one would have to know but us. I can give him that peek inside me he's always tried to get, prove him right once and for all, that I'm not all bad. I know in spite of everything, he still believes that. And he's right. What good is it going to do me to deny it? But I will anyway. I'm so stupid. I'm watching myself throw away yet another opportunity, wondering which one will be the last one. I blink my eyes, refocusing my pupils on his own once more. "Can you get me out of here?"
"They should be coming by to discharge you soon, according to Dr. Bliss. You had her a little worried last night. I was worried too. But she hasn't found any real reason to keep you here for further study. They're going to give you a clean bill of health, Helga."
"Oh joy. Just what I always wanted." Why is he making this out to be such a joyous occasion? So they let me out of here and send me home. Big deal. My life just carries on as it was. Maybe I was in that coma to take a vacation from it. There's got to be some reason why the idea of going back to business as usual makes me feel so unhappy.
"I don't get it. I thought you wanted to get out of here, Helga."
"I do."
"Then why are you so down on it now that they're about to let you go?" Those eyes of his are calling me again. It's just getting harder and harder to avoid his questions.
"Because, I. . .forget it, you wouldn't understand." Maybe you would. That's what scares me so much.
"Well, you're right about that. I'll never understand if you don't help me to do that." Oh sure, cloud the issue with facts, why don't you?!
"I can't right now. I. . .have to go and pack. I'll see you in a little bit, Arnold." Masterful use of an excuse. He'd follow me, but he knows I have to get changed. You're too much of a gentleman, Arnold. It's going to be your downfall someday. Or maybe that's what you have me for.
"Helga!" Arnold calls my name. I wave him off. Sorry, but I'm just not willing to expose everything to you right now. I'm keeping some of my secrets for myself. They're one of the few things I have that are truly mine.
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Not bad for a few days' work, I feel. As I'm sure you realize, a lot of work went into this chapter, sometimes it's just very difficult to decide how something should go, or what someone is thinking. My recent shift to doing all of this in first person definitely ups the difficulty level, but it makes things easier in other ways as well. It's a tradeoff I've decided is worth a few of the extra hassles, because I believe this makes the finished product more powerful to you, the reader. And you folks are the reason why I write this story to begin with.
Athena Lionfire 16, you recently described this story as addictive. I often feel the same way from my own point of view, and I constantly feel compelled to keep going after what happens next even when I worry I don't have enough energy to do it/ I try to do some work everyday so that you wonderfully readers don't have to wait too long to find out what happens next.
Rachael West is also correct, I feel this story is largely about doing justice to the characters, but also about exploring the complexities of the relationship. Fortunately, I'm a complex kind of guy, and I enjoy watching people's relationships unfold. To me, there's not much more exciting than people being people, and I hope I've managed to capture the essence of that with this work.
I must admit, on those days where I just feel like I can't keep going, there will be that one review that drifts in, says something very encouraging and all of a sudden it's like I can walk down that road again. Most of this story is either written in between calls at work (there's never enough time between calls) or just by my staying up way past my bedtime in a stretch to get me as close to the end of the chapter as possible. Thanks for taking a few minutes to give something back. The more people that I know are reading and enjoying the story, the better I feel about myself and the time out I take to prepare another chapter for your pleasure.
And as always, send your questions, comments, compliments, complaints, love letters, death threats, marriage proposals, and ransom demands to:
Lord Malachite
10/25/04
3:41AM, EST
E-mail: ranger(underscore)writer(at)yahoo(dot)com
AIM: Asukaphile26