A Wild Daisy - 15. Chapter 15: Rant

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Chapter Fifteen: Rant

The edge. The point. The verge. The brink.

“I yelled at Dad. No, I cussed at Dad. I’ve got to pull myself together.” Blue had been driving around and around town all morning. Trying to settle down. Trying to think. No. Trying to forget. But a vital part was missing. A link broken. The key pin had been pulled and he was counting down to destruct. Three, two, one. Fuck. He had gained something and then it was taken away. Something very important and needed. Like the last piece in a fifteen hundred part puzzle called his heart. He had been searching for it since puberty. And a few days ago it had fallen in place completing the puzzle that was his purpose in life. To belong to someone. To hold something vital and treasured within himself. A gift from his love. And it was a perfect fit. So few things in existence are perfect. His heart and his life had been chained or tied to another by a clasp made of love. Or was it an arrow tied and tethered, shot true and deep. Taken? Joined? Given? The hunter turned prey. He had tracked Willie and been cornered himself. Pierced heart deep. And then it had been ripped from his chest. Leaving a bleeding wound of woe. He was bleeding out. All he had to give. All he had to do. All that was him. Was dripping. Dripping. Plopping on the earth. Returning what was borrowed. Now death. This morning felt like a funeral. God or nature had spared no expense for the occasion. The sky was deep and blue with fluffy chrysanthemums. There is always lots of greenery at these things; summer green was everywhere. The air was fragrant with scent. And roses. Roses. They were springing up behind him marking his trail. A path to the grave. Could a hole in the ground really hold him and his grief. The void itself was not big enough. Was this a kind of punishment? Was he not worthy? Was he anathema? Or simply inadequate? Maybe, it was the price to be paid. Every second of joy. Paid for with pain. Every second of ecstasy. Paid for with agony. Every second of belonging. Paid for with rejection. Does heart equal heartless? Does a cup of love equal a cup of cruelty? A corpse. A cadaver. A carcass. This is who he is now. Once he might have been alive. Making the most of life. Then, came the awakening. Fireworks. Jets of feelings flaming his dark. Bursts of insights sparking his passion. Discharges of seed strewing laughter. Then the hope. Simple hand-holding. Teasing eyes. Parting lips. Fluttering lashes. And the belief. A tilted head. A crooked smile. A cocked hip. A brief touch of hand to neck. The surety. A kiss. A tongue. A hand caress. The hunger. Bite after bite. Demand after demand. Surrender after surrender. The right. Victory and celebration. Privilege and gratitude. Promise and pledge. Then bewildered shock. Then stabbing horror. Then cruel destruction. The fall. He was still falling. Would he spend the rest of his life in a tumbling spinning panic? Or will he hit bottom. To what? Splatter. To shatter. Clatter. Would he pick up the pieces and build again. Would he hope to find all the pieces? Would he find the missing pieces with another? That was the problem. He didn’t want another. Willie. Willie had filled him up and drained him dry. Stocked him full and raided him empty. Fattened and slaughtered him. He had been invited to feast and poisoned. His heart spoiled and tainted. His offering sullied. He hated Willie. He would hurt Willie. He would shake him. Slap him. Hit him. Harm him. Make him suffer too. Harsh words. Sharp pain. Severe punishment. And salt the wound. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Willie. He loved Willie. Yet, the snake had crawled up his leg and wrapped around his middle and twined around his neck and squeezed, was squeezing still. Taking away breathe. Taking away will. Taking away life. To be swallowed. To be devoured. To be eaten. And he was in the belly of the snake now. A belch. A need satisfied. Soon to be shit. Does the snake think of his meal? Is he remembered as a tasty morsel? A befitting repast? Just Dessert? A belly is full of acid. It burns. It melts the flesh. The snake will disgorge my bones. And leave me a relic. A forsaken saint of forgotten love. This is insane. All my doors flung open. All my secrets naked. All these words running in my head. Willie, you have undone me. Who is this driving? Who is this ranting. Who is this stranger in my mind? Is that Blue I see in the mirror? Are those his eyes? Is that loss reflected there? Is that hurt? Sadness. My soul a raft on a river of sadness. Adrift. On one side a shore of desolation. On the other futility. On a journey to nowhere. How to explain this emptiness? This abandonment. And under all this crap. Shame. He was a man. He was strong. Not this weak broken dog. This beaten and caged beast. Blue, where have you gone? Come back. Stand up. Fight. Climb out of this hole. Rise up from this death. Crawl if you have to. Forget your grave and remember your life. Yes, it was love. Yes, it was all, everything. But it is gone. Gone. Rotten, bad. And you are still here. Run scared if you have to. Pretend if you have to. Spit in it’s eye. Hate if you have to. Fuck what’s past. To hell with now. Maybe tomorrow. Lie to yourself. Find a dream. Live the lie. Live the dream. Survive. Just survive.

Blue was passing the main entrance to the Day Quarry. The dirt road was up ahead. On impulse he turned and headed to the parking area. He had the craziest idea. He was going to dance naked at the quarry. Like in the story Willie had told him about. A farewell dance with Willie. Willie.