10/23/2014

I got to the train station early. I was finished with my bran muffin and about halfway through reading the paper when a girl in a professional looking pin skirt approached me.

“Excuse me,” she said. I looked up and into her deep brown eyes, getting sucked in. My mind was tumbling helplessly through space, clinging desperately to the dark silky hair tussled over her shoulders. She smiled and winced all at once like it hurt talking to a stranger this early in the morning. She couldn’t have been more than twenty years old. Probably an intern for some uptown law firm. “Is this seat taken?” She gestured to an empty seat between me and an older man. He was sniffling like he had a cold and I could see the sweat beading up on his bald, spotted head. I imagined what I might look like at his age, suffering from the same sicknesses. For the first time I noticed how crowded the station had become.

“I was just leaving, you can take mine.” I folded my paper in half and stood up.

“Oh thank you so much, I appreciate it,” she said, sounding almost sincere. “Don’t forget your luggage.” I looked and saw a small black rolling suitcase.

“This isn’t mine,” I said. I didn’t notice it before, and couldn’t remember seeing anyone leave it. I extended the plastic handle and examined the suitcase.

“I don’t see any tags or anything. I’ll take it to the lost and found.”

“That’s so sweet of you. Thanks, have a good day!” She smiled and pulled out her phone and started texting. I grabbed the suitcase handle and tugged it behind me.

I only took a few steps and stopped. Something didn’t feel right. The suitcase was much heavier than it looked. I remember thinking, what the hell was this person taking to work? A dead body? Gold bullion? I was curious and stooped down to have a look. There were no locks. I felt an impatient heat rise from my chest to my head as my fingers fumbled with the zippers. I pulled them apart to see what was inside. Wires.

Everything exploded into expressions of shapes and colors unfolded in the fraction of an instant. I felt as if my ears had always been ringing but now I could hear. Warm music without tone, only vibrations swelled up from deep inside someplace until they crashed over me like an ocean wave. Familiar chords and sacred patterns, alien rhythms permeated throughout me. For the first time I heard everything. My heartbeats were suspended like I was endlessly falling in love. I was falling freely and without fear,  surrounded by impossible beauty. I remembered the girl. I imagined what it would feel like to be a single strand of her hair as she brushed it before bed. I let go and splinters of cool light pierced every facet of my mind. Everything was getting brighter and expanding infinitely.

* * * * *

I was getting the kids ready for school and looking forward to having the house to myself for a few hours. Precious time to a mom. It’s not easy getting a five and an eight year old ready for school. I was in the kitchen finishing packing their lunches.

“Jesse, the bus is going to leave without us!” I remember hearing Laney shout to her little brother through the door of their shared bathroom.

“I can’t do my pants button!”

“Hurry up!” She walked away. It wouldn’t be long before Laney wanted her own bathroom.

I went over and was about to knock when the door opened. He strolled out, still looking down at his pants button. “Jesse, do you need my help?”

“No. I got it, mom.” He marched out into the hall like a little champion, a little boy who doesn’t need mommy’s help getting dressed anymore.

“Okay, well your lunch is on the counter. Wait for me by the door. Inside the house please, don’t start walking to the bus stop without me! Where is your sister?”

“I’m right here mom. I had to get my glasses.” She looked so sweet with them on. She doesn’t like wearing glasses and says some of the really mean girls pick on her so I try to wear mine when I’m with her. We walked out of her room and shut the door behind us. She grabbed her lunch bag off the counter and went into the front room where we kept shoes and their school bags.

I remember grabbing my keys and my glasses off the kitchen table and was walking toward the kids when I saw a light brighter than the brightest photo flash you’ve ever seen. It lit up the entire house but I was sure it came from outside. I looked at my kids and they had seen it too. I wondered, if a streetlight shorted out. Then I felt the ground quiver. I thought maybe I was just disoriented until I heard dishes rattling.

“Jesse! Laney! Get away from the windows!” I screamed and grabbed their hands as they ran to me. The quivers turned into tremors and we ran through the house. I was trying to get us into a closet, figuring it was the safest place during a tornado but I didn’t know anything about earthquakes. We never made it though. All at once an avalanche of inertia ripped through the house followed by an audible heat like the sun was exploding. I thought I heard Lacey let out a single high yelp through the crunching of glass and wood but I couldn’t look to see. Everything was incinerated. I couldn’t feel myself dying, or even grasping hopelessly at life, it was all just so fast. All the colors and sounds in the universe merged into one complex frequency, and as it escalated higher and higher my feelings of panic melted away. I sensed love all around and I could feel my children in my arms.

* * * * *

Last spring Janet started having trouble breathing. She thought maybe it was allergies. The doc took a chest x-ray and found a dark spot on her lungs. I thought she was cured before. Of course I know there is no cure for cancer, but I just felt like she had it beat for good. She’s small but she was strong and still a fighter, even at her age. When Janet’s condition started to decline I remember the doctor pulling me aside. He told me to make these last days her best. I got really steamed and told him he would be lucky to have one day in his whole damn life like ours together.

I’ve never had much of a green thumb but when she got sick I promised her I’d keep the tulip bed going. When she didn’t have the strength to do it herself any more she would tell me what to do and watch me when she was well. I enjoyed it even when my arthritis made it hard to stay kneeling for very long. Every time I saw a little sprout pop out of the dirt and reach for the sunlight I imagined Janet was getting better all the same. She would sit and watch me work in the dirt and mud. When I’d see an earthworm I’d let out a squeal and she’d get a kick out of it. Sometimes I would do it anyway just to make her laugh. I loved hearing her laugh more than anything in the world.

I was in the front yard working in the garden and Janet was sitting on the porch watching me. She was nearly falling asleep when we saw the flash of light. I thought maybe a telephone pole exploded or something but there was no sound. A moment later we heard a loud boom like a dump truck fell out of the sky. Birds flew from the trees and leaves blew from a sudden gust of hot air.

“What do you think it was?” She asked me.

“I don’t know. Go inside. I’ll be right in.” I stood up and brushed the earth off my hands. Above the trees I could see the clouds moving away in a circle as a white column of dust and smoke sprouted in the distance like a huge mushroom. I knew what it was right away and ran into the house, and shut the door behind me as it nearly rattled off its hinges from the vibrations.

Janet and I stayed only in the living room for a week. No TV, no radio, no phones. Everything went out. Day and night all we heard were emergency sirens on the streets and military police on megaphones ordering people inside. Of course it was dangerous for two old folks like us to be out, but who in their right mind was running around in the ash storms anyway? When the batteries in our flashlight died we used candles. When the food in the refrigerator spoiled, we ate out of cans. When Janet’s medicine ran out, well there wasn’t much we could do. Trying to get her to a hospital would have been impossible. But you know, the thing is, Janet never once asked for her medicine. I would give it to her with her meal and she would just say thank you and kiss me on the cheek. It was like she wasn’t hurting at all. She was so strong.

Two nights ago I was reading to her by candlelight. We had both heard this story a dozen times before. She looked at me with her sweet, tremendous eyes, and they were tearing up. I thought she was struggling to stay awake and listen. She touched my hands.

“I’m going to bed now. Come up when you’re ready.” She smiled. “I love you. Goodnight.”

She hugged me tight, kissed me goodnight and went upstairs. I closed the book and went around the house making sure all the blinds were closed, the doors locked and the candles out. It must have only taken me ten minutes, but by the time I got into bed, she had already passed. Her body was as warm as it had been moments before when she held it close against me, but she wasn’t breathing any more. I knew this was coming but I never expected it like this. So simple and quick. Just like that, her life was over.

I’ve been alone in our house these past few days. It’s quiet except for the sirens and army outside. I’ve been looking at old photos of us when we were young. She looks just as beautiful in every picture, so composed and always smiling. I haven’t been back upstairs. I get tired quick and short of breath now. Most of the dust outside has settled but it must still be getting into the house. I think of that little black dot on Janet’s lungs and I imagine the tulips pushing their way up through the ash. I don’t know what it’s going to feel like. I just hope it doesn’t hurt anymore. Not my poisoned lungs or my crippled hands but my heart. Soon I will be ready for bed. I’ll climb the stairs up to our room for the last time and fall asleep next to the love of my life.