A Kind of Homecoming Chapter 5

5

                A single yellow leaf dropped onto Melanie’s lap as she sat sipping coffee and scanning through the virtual pages of her Face book account.  The concept of changing seasons to a Canadian is a simple truth that is as accepted as night and day to everyone else but the hard evidence of that truth, in the form of a falling leaf still evokes a certain melancholy.  Kind of like a torch being passed over; the warm forgiving nights of summer for the golden hues of yellows and oranges and cooler days that is autumn.  From there it is only a matter of time until the long dark nights of winter accumulate as much as they do in a season as in our own selves as the years pass. 

She looked up and watched the leaves shimmer in the warm September air and wondered just how she got to this place.  It was a change of season for her in a sense as she looked back down at the picture on the screen.  It was a picture of her husband Gary dressed in a slick black tuxedo, his hand clasped tight around the hand of his new bride running away from the camera, he was laughing and wearing a smile of long forgotten youth.  She clicked on the arrow taking her to another picture, this one of a beautiful girl in white dress, a shower of rice raining down on her.  It was a beautiful wedding, but with one major flaw, it wasn’t her in the white dress.  During a random search of friends she had simply stumbled through the photo albums of a dozen strangers and while looking at those pictures, friends of friends, she innocently came across a set of wedding pictures taken the previous weekend.  Melanie had stumbled across pictures of her husband getting married to someone else while he was supposed to be on a business trip.  She was lost in thought when the sound of a car pulling up the driveway snapped her back to the here and now.  Melanie closed the lid of the laptop and rushed into the house meeting Gary as he slipped through the patio doors into the kitchen.

“Mother-fucker! When exactly were you going to tell me?  Actually what were you going to say, no wait Fuck it I don’t’ wanna know.

“Mel, it was –“

“Shut up Gary you stupid asshole, just get the fuck out!” A small cup crashed against the wall just past Gary’s head and rained fragments of glass down the back of his shirt.  A second one landed remarkably close prompting Gary to charge forward with full intention of stopping Melanie before she did something he would regret.  He only managed one step before a hand-made ceramic mug landed squarely across the bridge of his nose and a Fourth of July explosion that dropped him to his knees followed.  There was so much blood pouring through his fingers he wasn’t sure if it was just from his nose or from the flap of skin that he could feel at the edge of his left hand fingers.  Stunned from the pain searing across his face and how quickly things had unfolded his initial anger faded.  He realized pretty quickly that Melanie must know everything and there really wasn’t much to say.  He got up, grabbed a handful of paper towels and walked to the kitchen sink flipping on the tap and letting the water get cold.  After he cleaned up he casually picked up a few personal items from the bedroom, a couple CD’s and walked out.  Melanie watched from the living room window as he placed the small bag next to his suitcase that was still packed in the car.  He glanced up as he made his way down the side of the car and opened the door, stepped in and in seconds was driving away.

Melanie was still standing in the same spot, trance like, a look of shock and hurt embedded in her features when there was a knock at the door.  She was going to ignore it when there was a tiny click as the latch slide past the strike plate and the door opened.

“Hello?” came a shy voice.  “I’m so sorry to bother you, my name is Anna and I just moved in next door, well renting a room actually while I’m in school.  This is going to sound horrible and I hate admitting this but I noticed your husband leaving, and well, I kind of heard a little of the yelling.  I’m sorry I didn’t mean too, it’s just that with the windows open and all.” 

“I’m not sure if this is the best time-“

“No, I know I really just wanted to give you this.”  She said pulling out a card and handing it to Melanie.  “Where I come from there aren’t many reasons –“  she stopped, “what I mean to say is that if you need someone to talk to I’m a good listener.” 

Melanie looked down at the card, Mystic Angels – psychic readings by Anna.  “Listen, Anna, I appreciate the compassionate speech, reaching out and all that but I don’t think this is really me.”

“That’s what most people say, until they try it.”

“Well, let me think about it.  In the mean time you wouldn’t happen to have a card of a good lawyer on you?

“Actually, yes I do.  She is amazing, her name is Abbey Parker.  I think she is going through something similar to you only she doesn’t know it yet.

What's Andrew eating Volume 1 Episode 6

Canada Day

Fireworks exploded overhead and a chorus of ooo’s and ahhh’s was sung out by the eager crowd. The multi coloured lights and sparkles danced across the night sky and the silhouette shimmered across the water of the harbour. Kids ran up and down the beach with sparklers in hand carving out crimson and ochre letters into the darkness, their happy screams in harmony with some of the rockets. In the flashes of light you could see trails of smoke floating and weaving in and around the crowd. The scent of spent gunpowder was strong but the dying charcoal embers kept the fragrant memory of the evenings savory meals that were served to anxious mouths. Malcolm could still taste the Piments d'Esplette rubbed pan seared Chilean Sea Bass (sustainable!) with Iranian Saffron infused Jasmine rice and oven roasted heirloom cherry tomatoes. 

Sarah shifted closer to Malcolm as they sat on the old blue and red checkered wool blanket. She leaned in and started to whisper something in French when an explosive boom shattered the silence and made her scream impulsively. Malcolm yelled and jumped up nearly banged heads as he did. They both laughed as he massaged his ringing ear and fell onto his back. Sarah fell over top of him, her hair falling over his face. They stayed that way for only a minute but it was timeless.

It was Andrew sitting down beside them and the hiss of carbon escaping from the tin of coke that brought them back. “Ah, Malcolm, you are under there, brilliant. So did I ever tell you about the time I took the train down to Toronto when I was 10?”

Malcolm and Sarah sat up together and turned towards Andrew. “What do you mean, like a class trip or something” asked Sarah. “No, by myself” declared Andrew straightening up in a gesture of pride and pretended to straight a pretend tie. “My parents had no idea; it was a school day that I just didn’t go to school on. I told them I had band practice after school, you know, just in case I didn’t make it back in time. It was near the end of the year so the teachers didn’t ask and my parents fortunately never thought to question about a band practice.

“What did you do all day? Asked Malcolm. 

“I actually went to the Science Center, it was amazing. I practically ran through the entire place picking up anything that would move. It was amazing, best day ever! They had a Chinese exhibit going on and there was a huge singing bowl in the main gallery. It was filled with water and I actually got it to work so well that the water was rippling and dancing from the vibration. There was water spraying all over the floor and I guess I got a bit carried away laughing…that was when the security guard started walking towards me so I bailed and ran into the next hall.”
“I love it!” proclaimed Sarah, “I could never do something like that.” I spent most of my weekends wasting time on the phone.”

“Talking about boys no doubt” laughed Andrew.

 “Or complaining about them.” came a voice from behind them.

Malcolm turned to find his friend Scott standing beside them and lifted his hand up exposing his palm. Scott replied with a smack as he sat down cross legged as a new burst of colour filled the sky. Mozart was being played and was synced to add harmony to the visual display. It was a little American but no one seemed to mind. It was a sign that the end was coming to an end.

“I love this place” said Scott but I think my home is somewhere else.” It was a bit of a shock to hear but they all understood what he meant and no words were needed, friends and family together on a warm summer night, what could be more perfect than that.

“You know, I think that was around the same time I went to T.O. for some Kiss tickets” said Malcolm. “My sister started out with me on the Go train early in the morning but she got sick and asked if I’d be okay to go?” Obviously I said yes, and made my way to Sam the Record Man but after waiting in line for about an hour some guy came out and said they were out of tickets. But that the Eaton’s Center had a bunch. I ran down Younge Street as fast as I could and up the escalators to the sixth floor. I remember there being this huge line up all the way around the wall but Graham and Jamie were standing by a table holding tickets they already bought. I have to admit being a little naive about the concept of how line ups worked. I asked them were to buy the tickets and they laughed and pointed to the ticket counter. I just walked up going through the end of the line and stood looking at the board, someone asked how many tickets I wanted and that was it. I walked away in less than 10 min. The look of shock on their faces was priceless. Of course it wasn’t until days later I realized exactly what I did.”

 Andre choked on his drink and began coughing. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me,” he laughed.

“We’re a good pair buddy, couple of real boy scouts. Remind me to tell you about the baseball tournament I was in last year.”

The music was getting louder and the fireworks more intense, boom, phhsssst, crack, bang. One after the other exploding over the water and in a heartbeat everything was black and quiet. Then spontaneous applause and the usual rush of excitement as everyone got up and headed for their cars or started walking home.

“Assuming you’re not sick of my cooking what would you say to coming over this weekend to try something new I’m working on? Asked Andrew. “You’re invited too Scot if you like?” I have a bunch of people from my cooking class coming over and we’re going to do a massive spread with all of our recipes.”

What's Andrew eating Volume 1 episode 5

Last day of School

     Malcolm was late, really late. He was still pulling clothes out of his dresser and holding them up at arm’s length in front of himself. “This is stupid!” he sighed and pulled out an old Cure T shirt that once belonged to his older brother James. He was pulling it over his head as he ran down the stairs, out the back door and jumped on his bike. He was already half way to school when he realized he forgot his lunch on the counter. It was right beside the cold toast he never ate for breakfast. “Just great” he muttered but kept going all the same.  The day went pretty much the same way through to final class.

Mr. Oldman was already up at the board writing out the problems to review for the next year. He wanted to prepare us for the future he said, emphasising the word as he explained to his best friend Rob a couple days later. Mr. Oldman barely noticed which was fine by Malcolm and kept right on going.

 Second period started with the realization he grabbed the wrong books and had to make his way through half of the school to his locker and back. He was sweating and panting as he ran into the room and tripped over Sarah Johnson and barely missing two other girls as the books left his hands and flew across the room.

“So glad you could join us.” remarked Mrs. Mahoney.

“You can just leave the books at the door!” snorted Gary Robinson that got everyone laughing. Malcolm was hard to embarrass normally but he red faced now. Not because of what just happened but because he was now pretty much on top of Sarah. He was mesmerized by the tight fitting outfit she was wearing and couldn’t take his eyes off her.  He had never seen her this way before and never thought of her in any other way other than a friend.  Sarah and Malcolm had been friends since grade 3 and lived a few doors down from each other.  Sarah had noticed Malcolm however and from the way Malcolm was now looking at her she knew he had finally noticed her too. It took Gary to break the silence with a protracted cough to get things moving again.

 The jocks were all busy organizing the football gear with the coach taking inventory in gym, so he just tried reading a book on the bleachers but thoughts of Sarah kept creeping in between the lines. He eventually gave up on the book and closed his eyes. He ended up sleeping right through the lunch hour and had a noticeable burn on his face as he made his way back into the school. It took nearly 5 minutes for his eyes to adjust to the din of the hallway but the air conditioned coolness felt well.

The rest of the day was a blur but mercifully short thanks in no small part to Mr. Able the shop teacher. “Off you go lads, your free, enjoy the summer!”  Malcolm had no reason to go back through the school; he could have just walked out the back door of the shop. It was a beautiful day after all but an urge to see if Sarah was still around gnawed at him. Her locker was on the other side of the school and the last bell sounded as he was still walking. In a heartbeat there was a swarm of people spilling out of every door in front and behind him. He almost felt like he was in a strong river current heading downstream. Sarah’s locker was empty and the door hung wide open. A foreign sense of loss shrouded the walk home. William was of course waiting of him by the first set of doors closest to the road. “Let’s take a walk boy” whispered Malcolm. They set off down Rebecca and away towards the lake, unknowing that Sarah was would be waiting another 5 minutes at Malcolm’s closed locker that still had the pad lock in place. She knew the combination and thought it would be okay to check considering it was the last day of school. The locker was empty with the exception of a couple pencils and a questionably healthy water bottle. She grabbed her pack and raced down the stairs to where she knew Bill would be waiting but knew instantly she was too late.

It would have been easy to just give up and head home but the heart isn’t that easy to give up on. Sarah let fate carry her on the path and she headed off down Rebecca in the same direction as Malcolm was travelling but with a 15 minute head start.

Sarah reached the park and scanned over the soccer playing kids, the families at the pole mounted barbeques, and finally far across the field to someone playing Frisbee with a black dog.  A broad smile lit up her face and she crossed the park as fast as she could but as she got closer she could see him disappear around the far corner of the fence by the lake and open the gate. She hesitated for a second breaking her stride but kept going.

She stood at the archway to the opening of the yard and peered in. It was beautiful; a small tiered garden rose up from the grass and was already full of some of the earlier plants and many herbs. A grey plume of smoke circled the yard like smoke rings but had a mesquite aroma.

It was Andrew that noticed Sarah first. “Hello, come in,” he said in such a warm inviting tone that she could not resist.

“Do you know Malcolm?” questioned Andrew. William bounded up to her and lifted her hand up so it was on top of his head. 

“Sarah?  Hey, uh, what are you, how are you here? Do you know Andrew?” asked Malcolm.

Andrew laughed, “No Malcolm she doesn’t but I would love to get to know her” and he reached out a hand to her and guided her towards the patio. Are you hungry?” He questioned. “I’ve overdone it as usual and there is a ton to eat! Please come in and sit and you can explain to Malcolm why/ how you’re here because from where I’m sitting it is pretty obvious.”

Andrew served a Grilled New Mexico pepper rubbed veal rack chops with grilled fingerling potatoes and grape tomatoes which was amazing.

                                                                

The sun was setting by the time dishes were done and it was time to say goodnight.  

Love, life and wine

     Admittedly I’m a little drunk so that could explain the nostalgic repose that I am feeling but I have to say that I’m also inspired.

     To think, to imagine, to dream of oneself within oneself out of time and space, are we created just too merely follow or is there more? An age old question –yes? Is there a higher purpose or are we just waiting for the end of our time. What a tragedy!

     If we are here to love, and I’m speaking more than in the simple architecture of civilization but to truly love, passion beyond understanding. Love in the beauty of all things is not in our nature but depending on whether you look at things from a selfish perspective or through the eyes of wonder then even death can be/is beautiful.

The sun in itself is a destructive force, even by its own nature it is destroying itself just to be. Can that not be said of us? We move forward and grow, but we are also move slowly to death. So therefore to be afraid of death is also to be afraid of life.

     What would you do if I said I love you? Wrapped my arms around you from behind and whispered shadows of a love fulfilled that only your ears could understand? Would all time and material things melt away into a mere backdrop and only then, only that moment mattered? Would you say you love me too? Out of nothing my heart exists only for you. If the ocean washes away an imprint left in the sand does that mean it never existed? In that time, the image lasts an eternity, as the image of you does for me.

If you never heard the words spoken softly from behind is it the same thing as the imprint in the sand? To me it is a sad thing that the ocean knows not of the image it captured the same as if love is never truly understood.

     A story then, something out of time and yet eternal like the words of love, just for you. 

On Being Me.

On being me.

Have you ever wondered how you got to the place you are? Pretty soon you’re retracing the steps of your life, back through memories like pages in a book, or a film I guess.

It could be as simple as being introduced to a new person that eventually becomes a lifelong friend or mate (or both). It could be more intricate, events that are woven deep into the fabric of life like exposing your kids to art, music and stories. It is only through the passing of all the everyday’s when suddenly you realize that they are now exposing music and art and their own stories to you.

I have friends that can do things I can never do but their passion only inspires me to be better. Friends that have come and gone, friends that I can only see on vacations, friends that are friends no matter how much time passes without anything and friendships that destructed from saying the wrong things. I would like to say sorry for my part in those, I’m not always gentle and occasionally have a hot tongue.

How did I get here, to the place or rather the person I am now? Seems like a simple question compared with asking why am I here and yet the answer is as elusive. I guess I’ll just keep doing what I do and see how the story ends.

Nothing good can come of this. (Chapter 1)

1

Kate was looking for something in the bedroom. Sam could hear the occasional grunt and soft curse, “I’ll be there in just a minute”, she shouted from down the hall towards the living room.

“No Hurry” said Sam trying to sound casual but he was pulling out his cell phone as he said it and began to text, gonna B L8 he typed in and hit send and pocketed it again.

“Actually, I needed to talk to you before we went out” said Sam.

Kate was hopping down the hall trying to pull on a sandal on her other foot extended out behind here.  She had to reach out for the corner of the wall on the last step to steady herself. The look on Sam’s face wasn’t what she was expecting. Instant dread washed over her and she knew immediately what he was going to say.  She stopped moving, and looked up to the corner of the room. “Already” she thought to herself, but I thought it was good” The last 3 words moved from thought to speech.

All Sam heard was “it was good”  

Sam, who was actually busy pulling a ticket stub out of his pocket didn’t see any of the body language coming from a girl in love. A girl believing she was about to be rejected. When he did look up Kate had turned away and was wiping a tear out of the corner of her eye. “What?” he asked absently.

“I thought it was all good!” whispered Kate.

“Oh, ah yeah, yes it is” said Sam quietly, not really sure what he was agreeing to starting to feel uneasy.

“Is something the matter,” Sam asked?

“You tell me!” snapped Kate.

“Huh, what? Wait.” I’m confused said Sam. “I wanted to show you something,” he said as he held out the piece of paper.

Kate had no interest at what Sam was holding, all Kate wanted to do was grab her coat and leave, saving at least some dignity, but it was draped over the couch which was exactly where Sam was standing. She had to walk toward him. As she got closer she looked at the upturned hand and could see the ticket that lay across it.

“What’s that she asked? Reaching for her coat.

“This is what I wanted to talk to you about” said Sam.

Kate had her coat in hand, and was heading for the door, “come on, we’re going to be late!”

Sam made a weak protest but could see he was in no position to argue and as he hesitated he the automatic door closing mechanism was already following the footsteps Kate made as she rushed down the hallway.

Sam stuffed the ticket into his pocket and picked up his coat. He looked around the room. The floor to ceiling glass panels along the south western side of their condo reminded Sam of a suite in the Delta hotel in downtown Vancouver. Probably why he liked it, it always had the illusion of being on holiday to some degree. This let the golden warm light of early evening sunlight wash its way up the north wall which was the dining area that was defined by a simple tan corduroy couch at the edge of the living room. Last night’s dishes sat in the sink of the kitchen, although he couldn’t actually see them he thought about it. The case that held the guitar lay across the ottoman, open with the guitar resting peacefully inside once again. Turning on his heel, the rest of the room had a shower door haze quality and it wouldn’t be until he bent down to grab his coat that he would looked down and realize his eyes had filled with tears. 

He wouldn’t be back here again. He had no idea how he knew it but it was as real as anything he had ever felt. He pulled out ticket once more and read the numbers out load to himself.  Five, four, zero, one, four, he thought that hearing them would somehow make them magically give them meaning. No such luck. He grabbed his keys accidentally clipping he edge of the copper bowl. A soft metallic ringing filled the empty space and held on long after Sam had locked the door and met Kate at the elevator.