Tells

Deaden

2005-04-27T17:17:00.000-07:00

A sharp pain sent Jabez lurching forward. His elbows clinched against his sides, hands in fists and back arched. He had been sitting so long that his muscles were cramping. Mistake number one. He bite his knuckle till the pain subsided and then slowly relaxed and leaned back in the chair gingerly. By the time he realized what he was doing it was too late. Mistake number two. Though his first reaction was to run to the bathroom he figured at this point it was pointless and seeing as he had been drinking rather heavily all night and not moved in god knows how many hours, this felt good, warm but good. Real good.

The room was getting muggy as the sun was beginning to rise. Jabez barely noticed the new days sun light breaking through the cracks and seams of the cardboard covering the windows. Jabez opened the desk drawer and grabbed the bottle of Captain Morgan’s resting inside, cracked it open and took a large swig. His face grimaces with the last swallow as if it took everything he had not to send the Captain back out. As soon as the shock to his system wore off, he did it again. This was his last hurray so him and the good old Captain were going to burn the candle at both ends. It wasn’t like this was the first time they had spent “quality” time together. With everyone gone now things were worse then they had ever been. The earplugs barely worked and the sight of almost any advertising sent him too him to the brink of madness. Alcohol seemed like the only thing that would take the edge off, deaden the pain. Alcohol had long been his demon. But it was a demon that caressed his hair till he fell asleep. A demon that took him back to the controllable days. A demon that put a temporary ball gag on the voices and provided morphine for the pain. As Jabez lifted the bottle for a third swig he heard the familiar sound of the door unlocking to his neighbors apartment. Jabez lowers the bottle slowly and grabbed an old set of earplugs on the desk.

Carefully and routinely placing the earplugs in Jabez kissed the Captain once again. This time he made sure to get his fill because he knew that his neighbor, who worked the night shift, would be turning on his 50” plasma TV with surround sound any second now. Jabez finish his drink and then repositioned himself in front of the keyboard. Sweat bubbling up from the pores on his arms, Jabez closes his eyes and lets it go. Concentrating on nothing, concentrating on everything, Jabez stopped caring how it sounded or exactly what came forth spewing out onto the screen. He let his fingers pull his memories from his brain like a New Orleans pickpocket snapping frat boy’s wallets at Mardi Gras. As the TV next door kicked on Jabez falters and his neck arches to the side as his brain explodes with information. Taking another quick swig and while fighting back the searing pain, Jabez knew stopping was not an option anymore. The time for second thoughts was long gone. No backing out now. Me and Captain to the end.

Sanctuary

2005-04-24T20:10:00.000-07:00

The sun was setting through the trees as Jabez ran with his head down following the trail with his one good eye, he just ran. His heart was racing and his lungs burned but he couldn’t feel anything else. There was this strange numbness to him now. He suddenly cut off the trail and toward a clearing. His back now to the sunset, everything in front of him was satiated with color and shadow. As he entered the clearing his heart moved up into his throat and the sound of his heartbeat rang like a church bell in his head. It only took a few more steps before he had to stop to throw up what was left of the pizza. He fell to his hands and knees in the tall grass. He didn’t know what was going on. Did it have to do with the punch he took earlier? Did he have a concussion? Was it permanent? Jabez was scared but one thing that he knew was that he couldn’t go back there. Not right now and not anytime soon.

Jabez stumbled forward and lifted his head to catch his breath and he saw the oddest tree directly in front of him. It was out of place. Short instead of tall, Light next to dark, round not skinny. It was like him. Lost. Jabez stepped forward and made his way around the edge of its natural dome, its skin, looking for a way in. Finding an opening in its shell, Jabez went in and was instantly awed. Inside was not just a perfect canopy but the sun’s rays were cast onto, and through in some areas, the large but thin light green leaves creating a giant green canvas. Its thick short trunk had two large branches braking off of it that created a perfect spot to sit and watch the sunset through this giant green shade so Jabez planted himslef there and leaned back, staring at the leaves, the green, the small spot lights of sun braking through and shinning on the trees carpet of brown dead leaves. He closed his one good eye; the other one felt like it would never open now, and he was contemplating staying there all night when a sound startled him. Jabez looked as the sound of dead leaves being crumpled under foot startled him. Standing at the entrance of the canopy was Freedom.

Freedom looked around the canopy with his jaw against his chest before entering. Obviously impressed by mother natures craftsmanship and assuming that this was some sort of sacred spot for Jabez he asked if he could come in.

Embarrassed but trying to sound tough Jabez replied “Ya I guess…I don’t own it.”

See the cool thing about Freedom is that he was unassuming. He didn’t judge. He took things for what they were and even though this was a excellent opportunity for him to turn the knife and drive the final nail in Jabez’s self worth, he didn’t, he never did. Jabez somehow knew he wouldn’t, he knew that day he saw him in the office. He knew that Freedom had his own demons to fight and that they shared their struggle in common. He wouldn’t know for years exactly what Freedoms demons were exactly and ultimately it didn’t matter. It was a commonality that all children share but few admitted. It was a sign of weakness that most wouldn’t dare. It was a cry for help in a world out of their control. It would mean they were all the same.

Finally there was someone that Jabez could talk to and he planned on it, look forward too it, but not now. Jabez knew that he unloaded on Freedom right now it would be too much to soon. Jabez just sat in the tree. He didn’t wipe away the tears or try to act like nothing was wrong. He just sat there. Freedom walked toward him and stood there looking at him and then around at his beautiful surroundings. They said nothing. Jabez sat and Freedom stood in what would normally be an uncomfortable silence. Finally Freedom moved toward Jabez, placed his hand on his knee and used it as a brace as he turned around and slid his back down the trunk of the tree. Freedom sat beneath Jabez in silence and they watched the colors of the sunset light up the leaves of the tree until finally darkness set in.

“Yo..” Freedom broke the silence. “It’s getting cold. You think its cool to go home?”

“Should be…I can sneak back in through my window. They probably don’t even realize that gone.” Jabez replied.

Freedom took a serious look, “That sucks but it doesn’t change the fact that if we don’t get inside soon your gonna have phenomena AND that black eye. Don’t trip, things will work out, whatever they are.”

“…Whatever they are…that sums it up. I don’t even know what’s wrong with me. All I know is that …” Jabez started but was cut off by Freedom.

“ And you expect to figure it out out here in the dark? Tomorrow. You will figure it out. You seem like the smart type. Come on, let’s bolt.” Freedom patted Jabez on the leg and started toward the opening. Jabez waited but knowing Freedom was right he jumped down and followed Freedom out and back toward the street.

It wasn’t till Jabez was climbing up garage roof toward his bedroom window that it struck him. Not once did his stomach twinge, head ring, or did hear that voice echo in his head. Not once. Jabez pulled himself up and though his window. His parents were fighting, sounded like it was about 30 seconds from fist to cuffs. He was right. They forgot he was gone. They forgot he was even there.

Locust

2005-04-22T14:19:00.000-07:00

Jabez was crying, a mixture of snot and tears dripped down his face, off his chin and onto the keyboard. Like a bad acid flashback he was there, in that tree, blooded, beaten, and confused. His head hung low, chin against his chest, he hadn’t cried like this since that day. He never felt more naked, both physically and emotionally, then he did right now. His shame and pain so intense that he contemplated burying that CZ-75 into his mouth and ending it all right now, but that same voice, the one in the back of mind, told him he wasn’t done, not yet.

Jabez regained his composure and laughed after he looked around the room as if someone may have seen him. He laughed at natural reaction to his childlike behavior. No one was there; no one had been in his studio in over 3 years. Hell he was practically a shut in. The windows were boarded up and over the years he had put up at least three layers of egg crate on the walls. He never left unless something urgent needed to done. The joys of the digital age and free delivery service. He never left unless it was raining.

Jabez whipped the tears and snot from his face with his shirt off the floor, a light blue tee with the words “Hurray for Boobies” across the front. He laughed at the shirt and remembered the day his wife gave it too him. He grabbed his pack of American Spirits and opened it up. Four left. That means he has got about 8 to 10 hours before he either blows the top of his head off or makes a cigarette run. He let out a small chuckle as he realized that finally he would quite smoking.

“It’s not the patch honey but at least I won’t be smoking anymore” he softly spoke.

His lanky body had been sitting at this desk for far to long and he hurt all over but the only light in the room, the computer screen, drew him back, drew him away from the memories and back to his stale existence. He lit his cigarette and let the words spill from his mind. As if on a broadcast delay his hands paused then took off once again.

“I have seen much beauty in this world. I have seen the sun set against the open sea, the rarest of flowers bloom, and the miracle of life. I have touched the hearts of as many people as I could and felt love from many a friend but like all things in life you have to take the good with the bad, the beauty with the bruises. We are our own worst enemies corrupting all things pure and beautiful with our big money dreams, marking schemes, and business plans. We destroy everything that is beautiful with our selfish motives, contempt, and ignorance. We can’t let something beautiful just be. We have to make it “better”, we have to make it public so everyone can trample it to dust for the opportunity to see it, we squeeze it so tightly, try to own it, till finally its will to live is crushed and what made it wild is died.”

“We are our own worst enemies and in the end it won’t be the bomb or the second coming that cleans the slate. We are destined to destroy ourselves but not in the way you think. It won’t be a war, it won’t be a plague, and it won’t be second ice age. It won’t be that easy. Instead we will suck the love, beauty, and wild passion out of everything we touch until eventually there is nothing beautiful left, nothing worth seeing, no land undeveloped, no passion left to consume, no love worth fighting for, no cause worth dieing for, it will be absolute. Void of souls we will march forward like moths to flames. Following the corporate god, living out our prearranged lives, we will straggle all the love from the world and each other.”

Twinge

2005-04-20T17:49:00.000-07:00

Jabez just wrote it off as a youthful daydream, wrote it off as one too many comic books, one too many x-men superpower dreams. They got in the car and in puff of blue smoke they made their way home. Jabez was sure that he as going to get it as soon as they got out of sight of the school but his mom just drove toward home, saying nothing. Jabez sat there buckled in and pulling himself as close to the door, as far away from her as possible, his stomach till tense, waiting for a lightning fast backhand from across the front seat. His mother did raise her hand, causing Jabez to jump, but she only put her hand on shoulder and gave it a squeeze and smiled.

“You ok?”

“Ya…it kind of stings but it doesn’t really hurt anymore”

“I will take a look at it when we get home…. You hungry?”

Jabez felt out of place. His mother’s reaction had caught him off guard. He was scared to let his guard down but he figured that he would take the chance.

“A little…” he said tentively.

“Well we can’t take you out looking like this, people will think I finally totally lost it and hit ya. What would you say to a pizza?”

Jabez decided to push the limits, to test the boundaries of her mothering kindness to her injured child.

“Pepperoni?”

She grimaced but finally agreed.

She was either seriously high or opening concerned about her child. This was the first time he really had gotten “injured”. He had been hurt before but there was big difference between the two. Today was one of the first times that she had seen her child injured and it brought out that mothering instinct that not even the drugs and booze could suppress. At least that is what Jabez believed. Though these moments were far and few between they did occur. Popcorn while they sat together watching “Buck Rogers”. Dancing in the living room at the beginning of a night’s festivity to some, any, Fleetwood Mac song, and birthday parties at the local ice cream shop She was a good mother when she wasn’t wasted or coked up. The problem was the women before him now was like a snow day in California, rare to say the least. Jabez wasn’t stupid and he knew these moments could disappear faster then you could say “Intravenous”. When she used, she became ugly, something totally different, and someone totally insane. Unpredictably violent. The police were often called and she was often arrested. Enjoy it while it lasts he told himself. Milk it while you can.

They got home and Jabez marched up the stairs, flopped down on the couch and turned the TV on. His mother went to the phone and called in their Pizza. She then went to the freezer and made Jabez a new ice pack. She walked over to him and took the old one and placed the new one on his eye. They sat quietly, her arm around his shoulder, holding him close, for a while.

As Jabez was just settling in, settling in to that place where safety is truly in the arms of your mother, that comfortable zone where all is right in the world and if it isn’t…its ok, it will be. Mommy was there. She lifted her arm and leaned toward him.

“I have to use the bathroom,” she whispered.

Jabez’s stomach was suddenly sent a shock. It was quick sharp jointing shot that took him by surprise causing him to close his eyes and buckle over for a second. But in that darkness, that split second his eyes were closed, a little voice that lives in the back of our heads whispered one word…

“Lie”

As she slipped off down the hall Jabez was just hoping that the pizza got there fast, before things got out of control.

Jabez was scarfing down his third piece of pizza when his mother finally came back from the darkened hallway. Her eyes were the size of teacups and she looked around the room as if waiting for something or someone to jump out of from under the couch. She spotted Jabez at the kitchen table eating and made her way over. Like a wild animal about to lose its evenings kill Jabez had a primal reaction and tried shoving as much as he could into his mouth. But instead of taking the pizza she walked up behind him and kissed him on top of his head.

“Sorry it took me so long, I ain’t feeling so good”

What was in his mouth was shot across the table onto the floor.

“Lie”

Jabez looked up half expecting his mom to be looking at him like he just got caught humping the neighbors cocker spaniel but she hadn’t noticed as she was already in the kitchen getting what every doped up person needs, a good stiff drink.

Jabez was scared but not of his mother. He couldn’t tell what was going on and why he was having these stomach cramps and why he was hearing voices in his head.

With her back still to Jabez, pouring her drink “ I talked to your dad while I was back there….”

Jabez buckled again, faster and more painful this time.

“Lie”

“…and he told me to tell you that it is very important that you tell us the truth about what happened table.”

“Lie”

Tears were swelling up in Jabezs eyes. He was scared beyond anything he had ever felt before. This thing happening to him wasn’t right. It hurt and he just wanted to make it go away but every time she opened her mouth it got worse and worse.

As if looking right through him she asked, “ Jabez, I am really concerned about what happened”

“Lie”. The tears started to fall.

“I was watching this show this morning…”

Lie. Jabez tried to stand.

“…and they said that kids that keep secrets from their parents turn into criminals. You don’t want that do you Jabez?”

Lie. Jabez gets to his feet but not before the first two pieces of pizza exit his mouth in a similar fashion as the last one.

His mother turns around and sees Jabez crying standing above a table full of vomit clutching his stomach.

“What the fuck? You ungrateful little shit. I spent all day cleaning this house…”

Lie.

Jabez nearly falls but turns the momentum into a dash for the front door. Nearly falling down the stairs he pushes open the front door and lets daylight come crash in. Jabez stumbles down the fronts step as his mother is still screaming behind him when he final looks up. Freedom is standing about 10 feet away. Freedom stopped dead in his tracks as Jabez, both embarrassed and scared, bolted for the woods.

As Jabez runs, his eye swells, head pounds, stomach turns. He still can hear the faint sound of his mother screaming at him from the front porch.

Lie
Lie
Lie
Lie……

The Instigation

2005-04-19T10:49:00.000-07:00

Jabez sat in the office with what seemed like the worlds largest ice pack covering his now swollen eye. A student assistant had already gone to Jabez’s remaining classes and picked up his homework for the evening so now he was just waiting for the school secretary to make that call. It would be another early out day for Jabez. While he sat in the undersized office chair studying the perfect lines of brown corduroy pants, he heard the secretary dialing the phone, his home phone number. They always tried the home number first, standard policy, but there rarely was an answer. His mother had a tendency to sleep in late. But never the less, like a trained dog, the secretary would pick up the receiver and dial that number. Pavlov would be so proud. The definition of stupidity: Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result every time.

She dialed the last number and slowly brought the receiver to his ear as if dreading the counting of the rings till she could hang up and dial Jabez’s father at work. If there was one thing that Jabez considered stable in his life it was his fathers work habit. The man may have been a drunk but he had a stout work ethic and seldom called off sick or showed up late. He rarely showed up without a hangover either but that was something entirely different. One ring…Two rings….”Hello”?

The secretary nearly jumped out her moo-moo when she heard Jabez’s mother on the line. She confirmed that it was his mother and then let her know that Jabez needed to come home as he had a tragic accident in P.E. Jabez was just as shocked as Mrs. Moo- Moo and was even more amazed when the secretary said “great we will see you in 10 minutes”. Dragging his mother out of the house at this ungodly hour was more then likely going to get Jabez at least a tongue lashing.

Jabez saw his mother pull up in the school parking lot in the mostly sandy brown Mustang. The car looked as if it had been put through a demolishing derby with its bright orange replacement hood and black left front fender, all the result of a hit and run telephone pole. That tricky bastard apparently jumped out into the road and then split after the front end of the Mustang hugged it. But the shuffle of cars his mother drove wasn’t anything new. She had a knack for driving anything into the ground or into something else in 90 days or less. As she approached, Jabez was ready, braced for operation shock and awe but it never came to pass. His mother came into the office and immediately came to Jabezs’ side. With one hand on the top of his head she used the other to take the ice pack off his eye. She let out a sign and a grimace at the sight of his now fully swollen blackened eye. She placed the ice pack back on eye and told him she would be right back.

As she approached the front desk the secretary was there waiting, with clipboard in hand, for her signature of the proper paperwork for her to take Jabez out of school early.

“Good Morning” the Secretary began.

“If you could call it that…Tell me how did this happen again?”

“Jabez tried to catch a line drive with his face apparently. I urge you take him to the doctor for some x-rays. He may have broken a bone or two.”

That’s when it happened. That’s the first time he remembers that feeling. The knowing, the understanding, and the truth. Before his mother even opened her mouth to respond, a sickening quiver shot through his stomach causing him to sit up right.

“Ya, we will head straight there”.

Lie.

Jabez knew she was lying even without the Tells but it was different this time. Knowing that someone is lying is something totally different then knowing the truth. Jabez knew the truth, though at the time he dismissed it as nerves or some bad reaction to the powder donuts he had for breakfast. But the solace in that excuse would soon become void as these incidents, these twinges, continued.

Refuge

2005-04-17T15:55:00.000-07:00

Jabez was half way through the woods, ducking branches, enjoying the human silence. He stops before a small clearing and jogs left along a dear trail. One that would go unnoticed if you hadn’t been on it before. The rains has turned most of the trail into sinkholes that consume his once white tennis shoes but he continues just inside the tree line along the path until he comes to a outer edge of the clearing. He stops and for the first time since entered the woods, since he kissed the rain, he looks up and smiles. Across the clearing just inside the tree line is a tree that stands out, seemingly out of place, like a Jaguar in a junkyard. Soft green against the mix of brown and dark greens, instead of reaching for upward it canopied out making a dome. It was his safe place, his comfort zone as a child. It was the only place that he could go when the Tells got bad. He made his way inside the natural dome and out of the rain. Its truck and limbs were massive but instead of reaching upward they lifted up and off to all sides while the smaller branches filled the spaces in between. It was calming, like a snuggly blanket to a 4 year old. This was his refuge, his place.

Jabez sat through the rest of class. He was pretty sure that he was going to get the shit kicked out by the cromag in front of him. And he was pretty sure he knew when. They had PE together next period. It was softball this week so he figured though the threat level was high the opportunity level was medium to low. Jabez figured he might be able to make it out of P.E. alive if he stayed alert.

Jabez ended up in the office with a black eye. Line drive he said. He always wondered if that had something to do with it. If Shannon knocked something loose that day in PE. Two days later the Tells kicked in. He was 11. That’s when he found this place.

“A kid walks into a school with a AK-47 and a pocket full of pipe bombs. With Eyes void of feeling and a heart full of contempt this child lasses out against the very society that left him stranded in the solitary confinement of his mind. 20 seconds after it starts our TV’s are blazing hot full of the gore and aftermath as sirens blaze and SWAT teams gather. And as it comes to the end the accusations start. It was drugs. It was “Basketball Diaries”. It was violent video games. It was too much porn. All to be thoroughly researched and inappropriately blamed for the degradation of our nations youth, the truth is dodged and the blame shifted. But we all have the same question itching to come out. Where were the parents?”

Tragic Blessings

2005-04-16T18:54:00.000-07:00

.

Jabez reaches across the desk and grabs the now room temperature beer and take a hearty swig and smiles. Knowing his destiny had granted him more freedom then he had expected. Knowing that the end was in site freed him of the binds of his sensitive nature. He no longer had to worry about hurting people feelings or being the better man. All he had to do was write and die. His head swirled with avenues. He had so much to get off his chest, so much to say. His perfectionist complex began to set in but he pushed it back. Write, don’t worry about how it goes or were it leads cause we all know how its going to end. He finished the last of the beer letting the last bit escape from the corner of his mouth and slid down his chin and naked chest. His fingers barely touched the keyboard before they started typing.

“No matter how hard you try you can’t deny the degradation of our society, the deterioration of our ideals. Open your eyes. The most important thing that we can do as adults, as humans, is raise our children. Yet as if blind to the responsibility of this blessing we pop them out by the dozens and expect them to raise themselves with good morals, ideals, and standards. All with a little help from Barney the purple dinosaur. Then when things go tragic we all look around and point the finger at the movie industry and Marylyn Manson. What, no one told you that this precise little child was your responsibility. That how that child turns out is a direct reflection of you as a parent, a person and a human. Where the fuck were you?”

“You were too busy at work, too busy watching your soaps, too busy with everything else to notice that your son was searching the Internet for instructions on pipe bomb construction. Too busy to notice that daddies little girl was all but screaming for acceptance, help and love. But don’t worry…she will find it. Find it in the arms of Timmy, the local jock and playboy. And your shocked when she comes crying to you with a pregnancy test in her hand? Your too busy to notice that your little angel has been spending a lot of time with “those boys”, grinding her teeth, talking real fast, and sleeps next to never. You all so busy that you fail to notice that all the new reports of teenage suicide, pregnancy, drug addiction and school yard shootings are about kids that look and act just…like… yours. “

“I am sorry but your politically correct child raising techniques suck. Something is tragically wrong when blowjobs are more common then handshakes in Junior High. Something is tragically wrong when our children haven’t worked a day in their lives but somehow drive cars more expensive then their parents. Something is tragically wrong when our children are taking up arms and killing other children. Take a look at the news. Tell me something, how do you think our children are doing? Do you think your PC, Barney, touchy feely parenting techniques are working?”

“Kick in the door, invade their “privacy”, and if they don’t like it don’t send them to therapy, instead hug them, tell them you love them, and expalin why your now going to be knee deep in their lives. And if they still don't like it, charge them rent.”

The Last Peace

2005-04-15T15:00:00.000-07:00

Jabez had walked to the gun show and it was raining so turning up his collar and pulling down his cap he began to make the long walk home. Jabez owned a car, a rather nice one at that, but decided it was safer to walk there and back. He figured when was the last time you heard of someone getting stopped walking down the street and getting busted for a concealed handgun? Sure it happens but it happens more often to those poor dumb bastards that drive to the show, buy the gun, leave, and drive like an idiot. Speeding, Changing lanes without using blinkers, all that stuff. Those are the dumb shits that get popped for the concealed handgun. Stupid fucks should have walked.

The rain was heavy enough to make him cold and wet but light enough to be managed so he took his time on the way home. It was only on days like these that he could go outside and walk around with relative ease. Traveling, even by car, during the day was nearly impossible but certainly unbearable. We watched the raindrops pelt his steal toe boots, looked at passing reflections in puddles and counted the number of steps until his next landmark. Just don’t look up, no matter what happens, don’t look up.

Left at the corner, two blocks, right across the intersection, two more blocks, Jabez was almost half way home. Jabez keep his head down and walks in silence. He enjoys the human silence. Before crossing the street to head into the park that human silence is broken by a young couple standing on the stoop of an apartment complex. Jabez doesn’t even have to look up at them as he stands at the corner waiting for the light to change. Same old story ever time. The girl is always pretty with borderline porn star appeal. She is livid and unleashing a verbal attack on some frat boy with frosted hair that is almost as pretty as she is. She is pissed cause frat boy here didn’t come home last night and when he did stubble through the door he smelt like a four dollar whore. Seems homeboy here got horizontal with some Jessica Simpson wanna-be. But being your typical 20-thing male, Mr. Boy Band here is trying to convince Brittany that it never happened. It was like a bell going off in Jabez’s head every time this suburban rich kid opened his mouth. Not one word of truth. This Jabez was use to and could handle. What hurt was the truth in her voice, no bells in Jabez’s head when she shouted “How could you do this too me? You told me you loved me…. I would have done anything for you. I loved you.” Truth.

Light changed and Jabez headed into the park. Walking along a now muddy path, Jabez stops just past the tree line. He puts his arms out, palms up, and lifts his face toward the clouds as if daring the rain to focus its now torrential down pour on him. The sweet sounds filled his head. The rain washed his face while the silence cleared his head. These moments are far too few and never lasted long enough. Knowing that, coupled with the fact that this moment, right now, would be the last time he experience peace her on earth, Jabez took his sweet time listening to the rain falling through the trees. Jabez almost reconsidered the gun, the plan, and the end of it all. But like all things old world, natural, and pure, the majority of the park was going to flattened for some new AMC Movie complex and a few new high end apartment complexes. Making way for progress, making room for more, and taking out anything that gets in way. The human condition. Use and abuse.

“Your all so wrapped up in your pathetic little lives that you don’t see…or won’t see what it is truly happening. The world as we know it is wasting away, the very life of our planet is being devoured by our own greed. You pretend that you care but the truth or the matter is that you don’t. As long as it happens after your lifetime you secretly say fuck ‘em. Sure when get together with your little ego masturbating friends at the local tavern or strip mall chain coffee shop you’ll wave your hands around in gestures of disgust and speak of our over zealous consumption with grave concern. But the truth is all your really worried about is whether or not you left your computer on so you can finish downloading that new Paris Hilton video.”

Dead Weight

2005-04-14T11:58:00.000-07:00

Freedom was talking to no one when Jabez sat down. Matter of fact he was eyeballing Jabez. Freedom didn’t say anything just put his hand up to his nose and made a face that suggested he was wondering if Jabez’s nose was all right. Jabez nodded and quickly dropped his chin to his chest. Why did this kid care if he was all right or not? Usually kids were to busy beating Jabez in the face to stop and ask if he was all right.

Though the reprieve from the abusive attention was nice it was also short lived. It didn’t take long for the ill hearted to turn their frustrations back on Jabez.

“How’s the nose geek?” Shannon asked. Shannon was an uncommonly large boy who had been held back a year in school for not only his grades but also distinct behavioral issues. Shannon would be the brunt of a lot of jokes in regards to his name if not for the fact that he towered over all the other kids and weighted a good 40 pounds more then everyone. He was the kind of junior high kid that smelt like a pack of Marlboro and looked as if he should be shaving. He also sat right in front of Jabez. Jabez said nothing, just stared into his social studies book. “I asked you a question geek boy!” Shannon said as he reached out and took a glancing slap at Jabez’s nose. Jabez recoiled and said “Knock it off Shannon”. A few of the kids including Freedom turned around at the outburst. Shannon was on the spot now that people where watching so he made another attempt to slap Jabez. Out of pure reflex Jabez blocked Shannon’s hand mid air causing a few of the on lookers to let out little oohs and ahhs. Shannon stared into Jabez’s eyes with a look of total surprise and frustration. Jabez knew that he was going to receive a beating for embarrassing Shannon but all he could muster was a blank stare back. After a few tense moments Shannon turned back around as class began.

You pick up the paper and read about all the pain and suffering going on in the world, you make your donation to the “feed a foreign baby” foundation and then when confronted by a homeless person in the streets of our own great nation you either walk by as if you never even saw them or blindly say no with disgust at their very existence. You talk of them as if they are a lower class of species so you can separate yourself from them to make you feel better about yourself and push down that sickening feeling that creeps up on you like an acidic belch that you are only one paycheck away from truly identifying with their suffering.

You all have thrown in the towel of greatness and settled to become working class bee’s. So lost in the daily routine of your mundane lives that you fail to see the big picture, the consequences of your ignorance.

Class went on like it does everyday. A 50 something, over weight, balding, under paid math teacher that gave up on his dream of making a difference years ago went through the mundane motions of explaining algebra to 30 something pubescent, uninterested, egotistical kids. Midterms were a week away and Jabez had yet to crack his book.

A cold shiver shot up his back causing Jabez to realize that he hadn’t moved in twelve hours and hadn’t eaten in more then eight. Oddly enough he didn’t feel tired and sure as hell wasn’t hungry. All that he felt was the dead weight of that loaded Ceska Zbrojovka 75 9mm handgun in his lap, or CZ-75 as it is widely known. He admired the craftsmanship of the weapon and was proud himself for choosing such a fine weapon for the task ahead. It was obvious that he wasn’t much a handgun offisheono so the dealer at the local gun show looked shocked when Jabez asked to see the CZ-75 9mm handgun. Jabez had really done his research and it showed in his choose of weapon. The Browning Hi-Power, SIG-P226, Glock 17, and CZ-75 are regarded as the best 9mm handguns ever made. Jabez took the handgun from the dealer’s hand and turned it from side to side, checked the safety, looked down the sights, dropped the clip out and checked the chamber. Just like a seasoned veteran. The gun cost $599 dollars but there was a wait period that didn’t work with Jabez’s schedule so he spent an additional $300 to have the paperwork “lost”. It was far easier then he ever imagined. In with a grand and out with a top-notch 9mm handgun in less then two hours, hell they didn’t even ask for ID.

Bar Baby

2005-04-13T12:33:00.000-07:00

His parents were very proud of their love child, so much so that they took him everywhere with them. From the grocery store to the local tavern, Jabez was constantly in tow being handed off from one individual to another like some kind of rare trinket. Jabez spent a good majority of his after school hours at the local watering hole with his mother. She was a regular and seeing as it was the late 60’s / early 70’s in a small hippie town just south of the epicenter of the peace movement, bringing a baby to the bar with you wasn’t unusual nor was it frowned upon. Though his memories of his early childhood were scattered and faded at best a good majority of the ones he still possessed were moments in bars.

Jabez was being passed from table to table, from woman to woman while the band finished up their last set. As the band finished their last song there was a lot of clapping and shouting and then the rush to the bar. His mother had just sat down and regained custody of her child when the lead singer of the band walked up to her. She was wearing tattered jeans with a loose fitting blouse top covered in flowers. Her hair was a mess and though she wasn’t attractive by today’s standards she had a presence about her that drew Jabez’s eyes to her. She walked through a crowd of onlookers and partygoers, put her cigarette out, set her Jim Beam drink down, tapped his mother on the shoulder, and asked if she could hold Jabez.

She held Jabez for a few moments before she suddenly took on a curious look. She held him out in front of her stared deeply into his eyes. Jabez did nothing but stare back. She smiled and let out a deep hearty laugh that startled Jabez but brought a rare smile to his face. As she handed the baby back to his mother she said only these words, “ You know he has got an old soul don’t you?”. She laid a gentle kiss on Jabez’s forehead and moved on. His mother was stunned, not by the statement though in later years she would laugh at the obvious truth of it, but at the fact that the singer noticed her baby. It wasn’t until then that his mother noticed what she had failed to notice in the last 5 years. What this stranger recognized in a second. Jabez was different. Nothing physical mind you but when she looked in his peaceful eyes, really looked, she felt the cold truth hit her in the chest and she was instantly sober. He wasn’t fooled, he saw through her make-up and fake smiles. He saw through them all.

As Jabez grew older, day-by-day and month-by-month, his parents began to realize that their son wasn’t like other children. Jabez was never one to smile much. His eyes where always open, his parents had many a long night trying to get him to go to sleep. It was like he was scared not of the dark but of missing something, something important. Constantly aware of his surroundings, it was as if he couldn’t get enough stimuli.

Jabez never went to preschool or kindergarten. His parent simply felt it would be torture to send him off to do finger painting and origami. He was simply beyond that. It was the 6th day of the new school year when his father got a call from the school to get to the principals office ASAP. The call made his father leave work early, which wasn’t a problem as his head was spinning and his stomach muscles were rigid and sore from his pre dawn dry heaves. On his way to the school he did have a brief moment when he worried as to why he was being called to Jabez’s school but that moment was briefly lived as he quickly pulled over to throw up.

Jabez went to school that day, just like the previous days, hoping to make friends, hoping that the other kids would ask him to play with them at recess, hoping that he wouldn’t be left to eat his P.B. and J, celery sticks, and drink his Safeway Select soda alone again. Jabez realized early that he wasn’t like the other kids but the sad thing was that they knew it too. And they punished him for it. The schoolwork was never an issue and Jabez often wondered why the other students sometime struggled. What happened that day was simple; Jabez had tried too hard to make friends.

Growing up, all he wanted was to fit in but Jabez spent the majority of his time either in the principal’s office or at Freedom’s house. Freedom’s parents didn’t argue as much as his and they never fought in front of Jabez. He thought they were just being polite and in a sense they were. Later he figured out that they just felt sorry for him. It was obvious to everyone that Jabez came from a slightly dysfunctional home. His second hand store clothes were either patched up and/or too big. He still sported the Velcro shoes with the little zipper on the side. His hair was home cut and he always looked ready for the worst, kind of like a scared dog. It was his appearance and sensitive nature that landed him the office all the time.

It wasn’t like he was a bad student, though he wasn’t great either. He never started any trouble, all he wanted was to fit in somewhere. All he wanted was people to like him. He couldn’t understand why what seemed like everyone picked on him and why they got so much pleasure out of hurting him. The rules to this game, this rite of passage into the cool crowd never really stuck with Jabez, no matter how hard he tried. He was the eternal speed bag and the consummate punch line. This, coupled with the fact that he didn’t learn how to fight till years later, landed him bloodied in the office almost daily. That is when they called his father. That is where he met Freedom.

He remembered that day with great joy. That was the day that he found out that he wasn’t completely alone, that there was someone out there who could understand him. Freedom’s father got a transfer to a nearby city SWAT team and that brought them out from Colorado. Freedom and his father were in the office getting registered for school when Jabez came stumbling in.

Jabez laughed when he thought about how badly he must have looked. It’s bad enough that his clothes were to big but the fact that they were covered in that childhood mixture of blood and dirt really put them over the top. Jabez was quickly greeted by Freedom’s dad and then by the school nurse.

“Are you alright son?” he asked as he pushed Jabez’s head back and applied that ever so famous military GI Joe kung-fu grip move to the bridge of his nose. You know the one that is always suppose to stop the bleeding. Freedom’s father looked like the kind of guy that could pull your tonsils out through your armpit in 6.9 seconds and he could probably do it faster if he wasn’t laughing the whole time while he was doing it. All Jabez could muster was an “ I think so” and a loud grunt sound when Freedom’s dad pinched his nose.

“Doesn’t look like its broke” he said “ you’ll be fine, just make sure you get some ice on it”. He gently slid Jabez in the direction of the school nurse who patiently waited with a look of commonality on her face.

“Come here Jabez, let me take a look at that,” she muttered. “You going to tell me who did this to you” she asked. Knowing that telling would only make the situation worse and remembering the beating he took last time he uttered the name of one of his previous abusers Jabez said, “I tripped down the steps”. Jabez caught Freedom’s stare out of the corner of his eye when he said this. It was the first time in his life that he could remember where someone looked as if they understood, looked as if they too led a similar life. Jabez never forgot that. He never said thank you either.

It was the next day that Jabez found out that Freedom was in his 3rd period class and had the same lunch period as well. Freedom was a good looking kid, the kind of kid that makes all the little girl’s hearts go pitter patter without being a super-model type of fake guy. The room was already abuzz when Jabez walked in with his backpack over his shoulder. With his head down he quickly moved across the room in hopes that today his tall lanky frame would go unnoticed by the more aggressive types. Taking his seat he looked up briefly and saw why there was an uncommon exciting buzz in the air. Two seats in front and one row over, Freedom was already seated. The girls were whispering while the boys were trying to find physical flaws in him that they could make fun of. Typical early stage puberty shit.

The Surrender

2005-04-13T01:37:00.000-07:00

“You can take your coffee shop commentary society full of boob job, Liposuction, Aber Crombie and Bitch cookie-cutter personalities and rot in the hell you have created for me. Lost as a child, tossed aside like a piece of waste because I wouldn’t follow your rules. You don’t care about me or my soul’s dismay, you laugh at my torture and will more then likely piss on my grave. You can think what you want but this time the last word shall be mine, for once you will shut up, listen, feel my pain, and then…”

Jabez sat motionless. He cared not for the tears streaming down his face, he barely noticed them other then when they fell from his chin and landed on his bare chest. He didn’t care how cheesy or fake his words sounded; he barely noticed those as well. His actions up to that moment were uncontrolled, he thought and his hands wrote. But the next three words where important, they must be used only after great thought and reflection. Nothing moved but his fingers over the keys.

“…I will die.”

Jabez sat back in his hand me down office chair. It was done. No matter what or how much he wrote from here on out, the ending was secure. He had always wondered how he would react on the day he found out that he was going to die. He never thought he would feel like this though. There was no wave of fear, no burning desire to tell his family that he loved them, no self-pity and definitely no shame. Actually there was nothing. It felt almost like trying to decide what flavor of Top Ramon noodles to eat. Flavorless.

It wasn’t like anything in his childhood had changed him, made him different. He didn’t have a particularly easy childhood but it wasn’t like his mother was a crack head and his father had left. His mother snorted and shot cocaine, never smoked it and his father was there, stuck on the coach with the gigantic television remote in one hand and in the other was a never-ending stream of Budweiser cans. But he was there and that is what is important right?

He remembered it all. The lingering blue haze of cigarette smoke, the sound of “Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band” blazing through their garage sale bought record players speakers, the sound of the a fresh beer being cracked open with the new fangled pop tops instead of the old pull tabs, the laughter, the old itchy couch, the sounds of thunder from Hogs pull onto the front lawn. He remembered the flirting, the mound of cocaine on the glass kitchen table, that distinct sound of a razor blade cutting a line, the smell of a freshly rolled Humboldt packed joint, the fights, the screaming, the threats, and the inevitable sounds of sirens. How could this have made him different? I mean every kid learned how to cut a line of coke when they were ten right?

No, this wasn’t what made Jabez different though it is likely a contributing factor to his gift, his curse.

“You told me to be different, original was the word you used. So that is what I did but then you push me out into the world, a world that doesn’t want me, respect me or care that I can see them all for what they have become and more importantly what the fate of this world is to be.

There is nothing left for you to do to me now. You have stripped me naked to the core. Void of pride, dignity, love, or respect. To you I am nothing more then a sore on the hairy back of society that some Beverly Hills doctor can laser off. But this sore will resurface time and time again cause what I feeling is your fault and you can’t run from that.

You all are so pitiful. You can’t even see what you’ve done. You’re the modern day Hitler’s creating a perfect society of GAP models with rippling stomach muscles and shaved chests. Creating a perfect society of 36-24-36’s with blond hair, silicone tits, and collagen injections. You say it is what’s inside that counts then you head over to the clinic and give your own private “Dr. Giggles” 15 G’s to tuck your tummy and update your cleavage line.”

You live in a box. A box full of rules, rules that make feel safe at night when you crawl into your flannel jammy’s and snuggle into your Martha Stewart, Better Home and Gardens, mail order, magnetic, fully adjustable bed. Buy this, wear that, and believe in this god and everything will be O.K…. Listen to this music, go to this school, make this much money, marry this kind of women, have 2.5 kids. Work your hands to the bone so you can drive a Lexus while your lovely trophy wife sits at home chugging bon-bons and watching the latest episode of “Jerry Springer” so she can feel better about her herself and have something to positive to say when she goes to that four hundred dollar an hour new age therapist that will tell her to align her chakras, pump her full of psychobabble bullshit about her abusive childhood and that this isn’t her fault and that isn’t her fault…Nothing is her fault. All this while your wife cries into her double latte non-fat no foam cappuccino. “

Jabez was an odd name for sure but seeing as his parents where stuck somewhere between hippie and cliché it made sense. It was also fitting; in more ways then one, that Jabez’s name was Hebrew for “Born of Pain”. His mother was so doped up on coke when she gave birth that they couldn’t give her any pain meds and though the labor went quickly it also nearly killed her. And him. He considered it odd then but most of the people that Jabez encountered in his life had less then average names. Jabez laughed aloud as he remembered the name of his childhood best friend, Freedom. It makes perfect sense now. These oddities, the unusual names of those that affected his life, were mere camera flashes in the darkness. They gave you partial sight, maybe a sibilance of hope, they break the monotony, but they are trivial in the end. They are cheap costume jewelry.

The What For

2005-04-12T17:36:00.000-07:00

I will be using this blog as a motivational push to finish a damn book that I have been writing for way to long. I have wavered on plot, characters, and everything in between but I have never fully given up. I will be posting what I currently have done soon and will begin adding more to that daily.

I want your comments and opinion but for now, and in the interest of getting this damn thing done, please keep them positive. At the end of it all I will let you tear me a new one and dissect the holy hell out of the thing. I will make edits from there. If I start getting slammed right off the bat I will more then likely get side tracked with editing that should be done at the end. Plus I don't think my ego can withstand it right now.