Chapter 48

48

I’m a bit over-tired today.

This past week has been a complete mess, stressful in unique ways, pushing my constitution to the proverbial breaking point. I’ve downed three cups of coffee this morning, dressed in my robe, staring at a see through hole connected to the sky, but still my level of lethargy is at an all time high. I can barely concentrate enough to pen these words onto paper, but at least I’ve managed to clean the branches out of the kitchen sink.

Last night, late, up with insomnia. The inability to quiet your mind enough to sleep a wink is enough to make anyone a little irritable. Jamie’s out cold, a unique snore creeps out of her nose and into the humid night air. She never seems to snore unless I have insomnia. Therefore, tonight, she buzzes in my ear like a housefly.

Buzz…buzz…buzz…

I get up out of bed and head for the toilet.

Not to piss, but for some peace and clarity. I wish I had a flyswatter.

The bathroom mirror is broken at the lower right hand corner. Somehow, a few weeks ago, smack dab in the middle of March, I managed to pull down the shower rod while Jamie and I were making love. She screamed when it smashed against the mirror. It’s amazing how quick terror shrinks an erection.

Seven years bad luck?

I finger the crack now, a diversion from looking into the mirror at my sleepless face. I’m sure my eyes are bloodshot reminders that my side of the bed feels like concrete.

There is a rumbling in the sky. A spring storm begins to form in the mountains, inevitably bringing thunder and lightning down upon all of us who make our homes here. Jamie will sleep through the storm, dreaming about a valuable porcelain vase she knocked over as a child in a fancy department store. Meanwhile, I’ll count each second between the flashes and cracks in the sky.

Its nice when activities are so pre-planned.

Flash…one…two…three…four…five…

Crack.

The lights in the bathroom flicker as if the storm might begin and end directly over my toilet. If I take a shit, a lightning bolt may fry my pecker off. Perhaps that would do it and me some good. An unavoidable “fuck you” message from God.

Flash…one…two…three…

Crack.

Jamie stirs. The storm is getting nearer and she can sense it in her sleep. Her hands, which, attached to her arms, were sprawled out across the bed, clutch one another and retreat beneath her head. She fetalizes, curling up, occupying a forth of the space she had been before the cracks. I entertain the idea of crawling in beside her, clutching her demure body and sheltering her from the impending storm. But I don’t move. Instead I continue to finger the crack in the mirror, consciously avoiding the color of my own eyes.

Flash…one…two…

Crack.

It nears.

A fox came to our front door yesterday morning. He was begging for either food or loose change. Perhaps he simply needed fifteen cents to make a dollar. Perhaps he just needed someone to listen, a friendly ear. Half awake and crippled by exhaustion, I didn’t recognize the need and closed the door on the creature. I’ve been doing that a lot lately. That and fingering the crack in this mirror.

Flash…one…

Crack.

It’s here.

A flash of lightning plummets from the sky. An intense electrical shot that is sent seeking the quickest route to the Earth. How fortunate for the electricity. When I fly through the air I always seem to have a layover in Phoenix.

An elderly oak tree stands in harms way and is split in half. The right side innocuously falls into the field that surrounds that side of the house. The left side, however, fearing separation from its better half, decides to seek refuge from the storm. Like a giant who forgets his own strength, the tree falls in through the roof above my kitchen stove. The appliance is crushed, sending oven debris into the living room. If I owned fine china, the porcelain shards would have imbedded themselves into the kitchen walls. I hear Jamie screaming in the bedroom while wind and rain threatens to drown her out completely. As the elements invade my home I stare blankly, continuously fingering the fissure in my bathroom mirror while Jamie greets the eye of the storm. This is how I woke up this morning. This is how I’ve been waking up a lot lately.