"An eye for eye only ends up making the whole world blind."
-Mahatma Gandhi
You were so young and naive. The adults around you were trying to protect you, hide the TVs, "You can't watch PBS today," they'd say. But you watched anyway. You were intrigued. When your teacher came in to class, her face was sullen and pale. You barely noticed, because you weren't worried. She gathered you and your classmates into a prayer circle to pray. To a God you no longer believe in. She told you something terrible had happened and that you must pray for the people stuck in the buildings. You did not want to pray. You wanted to go outside and play in the remaining hours of summer the world will ever know.
You were home now, sitting behind the couch. Watching. Your Mom didn’t know you were there. Watching. Images of blood, dust, fire, buildings falling, even hate, flashed before your eyes. You understood what was happening. You felt a strong sense of patriotism rise from within your body. A feeling that has since turned to resentment toward the hateful world you live in.
▫
Its amazes you now, when you watch the videos taken 10 years ago, a lost childhood gone by, the world you now live in, so different than the innocent world you were born into. The sound of the journalist’s shocked voices as they informed you a plane has hit the 1st World Trade Tower. It’s an accident, they said. A terrible accident. The seemly truth then, a joke now. You shake your head at the ignorance of the beginning of that day. Then, you shake your head and scold yourself. Those were different times, you tell yourself. You can only imagine if that were to happen now. Your country has changed from an apparent innocent nation, to an accusatory, quick to judge super power. Your fellow Americans are constantly thinking: Terrorism. Terrorist. Muslim. Terrorist. What did they do?
▫
You walked in the door, home from another day of school, another day of searching but never finding. Your mother thought you were downstairs, in your playroom, playing house with your barbies, like a normal little girl. You were not. Your eyes were once again glued to the television. We’ve invaded Iraq, the newsman says, to kill the bad guys. The bad guys who killed our good people. This will be a short war, a military looking man says, as his confident face flickers on your TV. The newsman was now showing you familiar images to you. Things exploding, blood, dust, and fire. Hate.
You could almost reach the counter tops in the kitchen now. The calendar said that it was spring, but outside it was still gloomy and cold. Too nasty to play in. The man you’d come to know as your president was on the TV again. His mouth was moving-he was saying something. But you were not even sure if he was speaking English. He’s the good guy, you’re grandfather told you. But you were not so sure. The man was telling you “Mission Accomplished,” but on the split screen, you still saw the fighting, the fire, the hate. It hadn’t gone away.
Christmas was almost here, you told your mom you wanted a doll house, but you were really not sure what you want. Nothing made sense anymore. You’re teacher had asked you to do a report on how great the country you live in is, your last thing to do before Christmas break. But you were not even sure your country is that great. Why would a good country kill people? You shook your head, trying to clear your brain of these thoughts, feeling guilty for thinking such things, and sat down on the living room floor. Once again your attention was drawn to the newsman on the TV. The scroll rolling across the bottom declares that there was breaking news. You cringed. You always did now. Breaking news was never a good thing. The screen changed from the newsman, to a bearded man, disheveled and wrinkly. The newsman comes back, joy showing in his voice. They caught him, he said, the man responsible for that bad day. They were showing you those images again. Images of blood, dust, fire, buildings falling, and hate. Violence. You were not even sure where they were taken, in New York, when those two towers fell, or in that far away country. The far away country that your president declared we had finished our mission in, months ago. So why were we still there?
Years have passed, you were older now. You could finally reach the kitchen cupboard. And you were disappointed. Christmas has just passed and the happy feelings of childhood had come and gone on the same day. And now you were left feeling as lost and confused as ever. That morning you had put on your snow boots and you’re heavy purple coat and made the long trek to the mail box to get the newspaper for your grandpa. When you got there, you yanked it off the hook it was hanging on, and opened the paper to the front page. You were aghast at when you saw.
A dead man staring back at you. A man killed in justice, yet killed in hate.
He was the same man you had seen years ago, but now he looked older, tortured, and lost. He was dead. Your country had killed him.
You are much older now, wiser. You are laying in bed, watching Sunday night football….you don’t remember what teams were playing, it seems so unimportant. The game was almost over, and by luck or by instinct you grabbed the remote to check the news channels, just in case. It’s become a natural instinct of yours by now, watching the news. Being involved. Searching for knowledge, answers. There was no breaking news, just a rerun, so you turned the channel back. What you didn’t realize was seconds later, there was breaking news.
At the end of the game, the screen turned red, the words in white, flashing. Presidential Address. You, of course panicked. An unwanted product of your childhood. You always, always, assume the worst. The man you’ve come to trust as your president, the man you told your mother, repeatedly, to vote for, walked out to his podium, and begins to speak. "Good evening. Tonight, I can report to the American people and to the world that the United States has conducted an operation that killed Osama bin Laden, the leader of al Qaeda, and a terrorist who's responsible for the murder of thousands of innocent men, women, and children(Obama)."
Your ears heard the word, you know they do. Your eyes watched his mouth move, telling you the words. But it takes you a few moments to process them. And once you do, like the last kick to your unconscious and dying childhood, you begin to sob. Big tears roll down your face, heavy with loss, confusion, anger, and joy. You feel happy, proud of your country for getting Osama. But then you suddenly stop sobbing, the tears dry up. Your country has once again killed. You know that you are supposed to feel joy, pride and comfort in this news, but you don’t. At first, you feel nothing. You are numb. Then, the anger comes. The questions come next. Then, the conclusions.
Your country justifies killing with killing. Your country thinks it’s better than everyone else, has power over everyone. You have grown up, living on an earth that you interpret as a misunderstood world.
You don’t cry anymore. You get angry. Your childhood can be deciphered by one word: confusion. Your coming adulthood is more complicated: It’s a search for answers. It’s a search for the truths, but even more, it’s a search for the lies.
They were both here to recruit you. They were both here to recruit you to help stop great injustice in their time. Thomas Paine and Harvey Milk may have been born in different centuries, during different times, but both were working towards freedom. Paine was attempting to break free from a ruthless, unjust Britain, and Her King. Milk’s aspiration was to live in a world where people who were gay were no longer treated like second-class citizens. Paine and Milk strived for freedom, using similar strategies, both looking for goals which were very much alike: freedom for their people.
Thomas Paine understood the significance around having everyone help towards a greater cause. “I call not upon a few, but upon all; not on this state of that state, but on every state; up and help us; lay your shoulders on the wheel; better have too much force than too little, when so great an object is a stake.”(Paine 161) Thomas Paine understood that in order to defeat the British he had to rally everyone against the British, giving them hope for a new country.
Harvey Milk realized that it was crucial for the gay community to stick together, so they wouldn’t be alone in their fight for freedom against stereotypes and injustice. “We must band together and fight back.”(Milk) Milk also knew that “They were strong, but even they needed hope.”(Milk) Harvey Milk wanted the gay community to find strength and hope by banding together, and sticking together. Only then could they even begin their fight against stereotypes and injustice.
Paine was aching for liberation from Britain, leaving America to be Her own free country, free of the injustice that Britain put down upon them. Paine and the colonists felt like slaves to Great Britain. “Britain, with an army to enforce her tyranny, has declared that she has a right (not only to Tax) but ‘to BIND us in ALL CASES WHATSOEVER,” and if being bound in that manner, that is not slavery, then is there not such a thing as slavery upon earth.”(Paine 161) Thanks to the poor treatment and taxes, Britain had led Paine and others like him, to feel like slaves. Now Paine and the other colonists were ready for change. They were ready for freedom.
Milk wanted to free the gay people the world of prejudice, on step at a time, starting in his city. He too, like Paine, dealt with the knowledge that his people were often treated like second-class citizens. “If the city of San Francisco, if every one of 51 percent of that city were to go to South Africa, they would be treated as second-class citizens. That is an offence to the people of San Francisco.”(Milk) Milk was working towards a world where there was no prejudice against gay people. The gay community was tired of being treated like second-class citizens, and Milk was trying to achieve freedom for them.
In order to obtain freedom, Paine recognized the importance of wanting to be free, desperately. “What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly. ‘Tis dearness only that gives everything its value. Heaven knows how to put a proper price upon its goods; and it would be strange indeed if so celestial an article as freedom should not be highly rated.”(Paine 160) Paine wanted everyone to understand that they had to deeply want freedom, before it would be achievable.
Milk recognized that in order to achieve freedom from stereotypes and prejudice, the gay community had to work hard, and that they needed to understand the great worth of what they were fighting to secure. “The first gay people we elect must be strong. They must not be content to sit in the back of the bus. They must not be content to accept pabulum. They must be above wheeling and dealing. They must be –for the good of all of us- independent, unbought.”(Milk) Milk reasoned that without wanting it badly enough, it would be an impossible goal to reach.
Although Thomas Paine and Harvey Milk were alive during completely different times, their goals were surprisingly alike. Both understood the power of people as a whole, and both were treated unfairly. So they stood up against it, and fought for what they believed in. They both wanted the same thing: freedom. One wanted freedom from an unjust nation and the other, freedom from stereotypes and prejudice. Most importantly, they gave people hope for a better tomorrow.
You were so young and naive. The adults around you were trying to protect you, hide the TVs, "You can't watch PBS today," they'd say. But you watched anyway. You were intrigued. When you're teacher comes in to class, her face is sullen and pale. You barely notice, you weren't worried. She gathers you and your classmates into a prayer circle to pray. To a God you are no longer sure you believe in. She tells you something terrible has happened and you must pray for the people stuck in the buildings. You do not want to pray. You want to go outside and play in the remaining hours of summer the world will ever know.
You're home now, sitting behind the couch. Watching. You're Mom doesn't know you're in here. Watching. Images of blood, dust, fire, place, even hate, flash before your eyes. You understand what is happening. You feel a strong sense of patriotism rise from within your body. A feeling that has since turned to resentment toward the hateful world you live in. You think you understand what's happening as you sit there, behind the couch. Watching. You don't. You think you understand now, tears flowing down your face as you write. Tears full of anger. Tears full of confusion. Tears full of disappointment. Disappointment in a lost childhood. You don't understand now, even though you think you do. You never will. How can one understand such hate? Hate against those who did it. Hate against those who hate those who did it. Hate for the hate that runs hot in the blood of our American society. Hate at confusion.
All the lonely people Where do they all come from?
A long time ago, long before your grandparent’s grandparents were brought into the world, there was a little girl named Eleanor Rigby. Her dull brown hair fell down to her knees and her face looked unkempt, oily and gray with filth. Her mother was always away at work, weaving thread to create colorful dresses for the rich ladies in town. Her father, whom she could remember nothing of, had died during a plague before she was even born. Being too poor to attend school, Eleanor spent her days roaming the streets, trying to avoid the putrid waste that that rich would pour in the streets for the poor to suffer in.
One day, Eleanor Rigby came across a young boy, much like her. His face was also covered in filth, but this filth was brown rather than Eleanor’s gray. They became friends, roaming the streets together during the days, sharing fantasies that they too may someday by as privileged and well off as the towns’ people. There was only one thing keeping them from happiness in their minds. Money. During one of their afternoon strolls, they came across an announcement nailed to the tree in the town square.
LITTLE GIRL WANTED FOR OUTBREAK OF FOOD THEIFTS. MONEY REWARD FOR CAPTURE.
Eleanor felt uneasy reading this; the little girl’s poor family was probably just very hungry. The next day, as they were walking along the young boy next to her who had become a trusted friend, was acting strange. Suddenly, out from behind the building know as the bakery, came three strong men, who grabbed Eleanor Rigby violently, dragging her towards the town square. The young boy following behind. When asked by the three men if this was the girl, the young boy eagerly agreed. Shortly thereafter, the young boy ran off with the bag full of money he had received as a reward. He had sold out the little girl for money, turning in an innocent person who had come to trust him. For money.
Something was created in that moment, as something died in hearts around the world, past, present, and future. Trust suffered a painful death that day, just as Eleanor’s father had during the plague. A whole new world was unearthed that day.
▫
After spending most of her childhood being punished, Eleanor went on to have children who suffered from a mind swallowing loneliness. They chose to avoided people rather than suffer the pain of people breaking trust for their own gain. Her children went on to have children, as did their children and so forth.Today, when you run across a lonely person, you’re meeting a new generation of Eleanor Rigby’s. Too untrusting to befriend. To lost in their loneliness to be freed.
They were both here to recruit you. They were both here to recruit you to help stop great injustice in their time. Thomas Paine and Harvey Milk may have been born in different centuries, during different times, but both were working towards freedom. Paine was attempting to break free from a ruthless, unjust Britain, and Her King. Milk’s aspiration was to live in a world where people who were gay were no longer treated like second-class citizens. Paine and Milk strived for freedom, using similar strategies, both looking for goals which were very much alike: freedom for their people.
Thomas Paine understood the significance around having everyone help towards a greater cause. “I call not upon a few, but upon all; not on this state of that state, but on every state; up and help us; lay your shoulders on the wheel; better have too much force than too little, when so great an object is a stake.”(Paine 161) Thomas Paine understood that in order to defeat the British he had to rally everyone against the British, giving them hope for a new country.
Harvey Milk realized that it was crucial for the gay community to stick together, so they wouldn’t be alone in their fight for freedom against stereotypes and injustice. “We must band together and fight back.”(Milk) Milk also knew that “They were strong, but even they needed hope.”(Milk) Harvey Milk wanted the gay community to find strength and hope by banding together, and sticking together. Only then could they even begin their fight against stereotypes and injustice.
Paine was aching for liberation from Britain, leaving America to be Her own free country, free of the injustice that Britain put down upon them. Paine and the colonists felt like slaves to Great Britain. “Britain, with an army to enforce her tyranny, has declared that she has a right (not only to Tax) but ‘to BIND us in ALL CASES WHATSOEVER,” and if being bound in that manner, that is not slavery, then is there not such a thing as slavery upon earth.”(Paine 161) Thanks to the poor treatment and taxes, Britain had led Paine and others like him, to feel like slaves. Now Paine and the other colonists were ready for change. They were ready for freedom.
Milk wanted to free the gay people the world of prejudice, on step at a time, starting in his city. He too, like Paine, dealt with the knowledge that his people were often treated like second-class citizens. “If the city of San Francisco, if every one of 51 percent of that city were to go to South Africa, they would be treated as second-class citizens. That is an offence to the people of San Francisco.”(Milk) Milk was working towards a world where there was no prejudice against gay people. The gay community was tired of being treated like second-class citizens, and Milk was trying to achieve freedom for them.
In order to obtain freedom, Paine recognized the importance of wanting to be free, desperately. “What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly. ‘Tis dearness only that gives everything its value. Heaven knows how to put a proper price upon its goods; and it would be strange indeed if so celestial an article as freedom should not be highly rated.”(Paine 160) Paine wanted everyone to understand that they had to deeply want freedom, before it would be achievable.
Milk recognized that in order to achieve freedom from stereotypes and prejudice, the gay community had to work hard, and that they needed to understand the great worth of what they were fighting to secure. “The first gay people we elect must be strong. They must not be content to sit in the back of the bus. They must not be content to accept pabulum. They must be above wheeling and dealing. They must be –for the good of all of us- independent, unbought.”(Milk) Milk reasoned that without wanting it badly enough, it would be an impossible goal to reach.
Although Thomas Paine and Harvey Milk were alive during completely different times, their goals were surprisingly alike. Both understood the power of people as a whole, and both were treated unfairly. So they stood up against it, and fought for what they believed in. They both wanted the same thing: freedom. One wanted freedom from an unjust nation and the other, freedom from stereotypes and prejudice. Most importantly, they gave people hope for a better tomorrow.
Puritanism still influences our country today. Recently, Presidential Candidate Michele Bachmann said during a campaign speech in Florida “I don’t know how much God has to do to get the attention of the politicians. We’ve had an earthquake; we’ve had a hurricane. He said, ‘Are you going to start listening to me here?’” (From St. Petersburg Times) This resonates the words of Jonathan Edwards, a puritan preacher from 18th century America. Jonathan Edwards said in a sermon “The wrath of God is like great waters that are dammed for the present; they increase more and more, and rise higher and higher, till an outlet is given; and the longer the stream is stopped, the more rapid and mighty is it’s course, when once it is let loose.” (Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God, Jonathan Edwards) Puritan beliefs can still be found in America today among those who are on the religious far right.
Puritans built their religion and society on fear of an angry God. “This is the case of every one of you that are out of Christ. That world of misery, that lake of burning brimstone, is extended abroad under you. There is a dreadful pit of glowing flames of the wrath of God; there is Hell’s wide gaping mouth open; and you have nothing to stand upon, nor anything to take hold of; there is nothing between you and Hell but the air; it is only the power and mere pleasure of God that holds you up.” (Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God, Jonathan Edwards) Puritans ran their society on the fear of the wrath of an angry God. They were taught to believe that with one mistake, they would be forever condemned. Therefore their society remained obedient, in fear of the burning brimstone.
Puritan beliefs still run deep today in American politics. American politics has always been a battle between whose beliefs are correct, and who’s beliefs make them “Morally Bankrupt.” This practice in American politics goes all the way back to when the Puritans were prevalent. Today, you can find the Puritans beliefs being fought for by The Republican’s and Conservatives in America. Take Rick Perry for instance, He’s the front running Republican Presidential Candidate. In June, he suggests during an interview: “We’re going through those difficult economic times for a purpose, to bring us back to those Biblical principles.” (Think Progress.org) Rick Perry, a major voice in the Republican Party, reflects the views of Jonathan Edwards. Edwards said “Those that are gone from being in the like circumstances with you, see that it was so with them; destruction came suddenly upon most of them; when they expected nothing of it, and while they were saying, peace and safety: now they see, that those things on which they depended for peace and safety, were nothing but thin air and empty shadows.” (Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God, Jonathan Edwards) Rick Perry believes that America needs to get back to the Puritan ways, and he wants Americans to remember money won’t keep you safe, God will. This sounds very much like Jonathan Edward’s belief.
Puritans believe that if you’re willing to give sin up for God, he will be righteous. “And now you have an extraordinary opportunity, a day wherein Christ has thrown the door of mercy wide open, and stands calling and crying with a loud voice to poor sinners; a day wherein many are flocking to him, and pressing into the kingdom of God.” (Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God, Jonathan Edwards) This belief is also still prevalent today in America. An entire industry of television preachers, advertisements, billboards, end of the world prophesies, books, music, and websites are calling for Americans to surrender their lives to God, or they will forever burn in Hell.
Although you may not see Puritans in their classic attire, giving their fiery sermons, Puritanism is still influencing America today. Puritanism is reflected in political views, religions, books, television and much more. America will always be in battle over what is morally right, and wrong. Puritanism will always be a lingering ideology in American society.
Well, I finally finished my last short story for my Creative Writing class. Please let me know what you think!
Spread Your Wings
By Beth Ann Koustas
Based off the Queen Song “Spread your Wings”
Written by John Deacon
Sammy was low
Just watching the show Over and over again Knew it was time He'd made up his mind To leave his dead life behind His boss said to him "Boy you'd better begin To get those crazy notions right out of your head Sammy who do you think that you are ? You should've been sweeping up the Emerald bar"
Spread your wings and fly away Fly away, far away Spread your little wings and fly away Fly away, far away Pull yourself together 'Cos you know you should do better That's because you're a free man
He spends his evenings alone in his hotel room Keeping his thoughts to himself, he'd be leaving soon Wishing he was miles and miles away Nothing in this world, nothing would make him stay Since he was small Had no luck at all Nothing came easy to him Now it was time He'd made up his mind "This could be my last chance" His boss said to him "Now listen boy! You're always dreaming you’ve got no real ambition, you won't get very far Sammy boy, don't you know who you are? Why can't you be happy at the Emerald bar?"
So honey
Spread your wings and fly away Fly away, far away Spread your little wings and fly away Fly away, far away Pull yourself together 'Cos you know you should do better That's because you're a free man
C'mon honey Fly with me
this is a copyrighted work of fiction by the author Beth Ann Koustas. All rights reserved.
Sammy was low, just watching the show, over and over again.
The sun had almost disappeared behind the horizon when Sammy’s alarm began to beep. As he opened his eyes, he could see the purples and pinks of the remaining sun peaking through his window against his off-white hotel wall. He groaned, rolling over to hit the SNOOZE button.
“Just a few more minutes of sleep,” He muttered as the world faded to gray again.
As his alarm attempted to get him up once more, Sammy undecidedly rolled out of the bed, pondering whether ten more minutes of sleep would make his night a little easier. He decided against it, slipping his fuzzy black slippers onto his freezing-cold bare feet. Sammy stumbled down the hall, running into the doorway as he entered the bathroom. He hopped over to the lime green sink, feeling his toe swelling. The lime green sink clashed with the bright pink porcelain toilet sitting next to it.
Sammy grabbed the used toothbrush that was resting at the bottom of the sink while he screwed off the CREST toothpaste, whose expiration date was months ago. Turning on the water, he watched the toothpaste cap spinning in the whirlpool. Panicking, he rushed to save it. He lost sight of the cap as it disappeared into the darkness of the damp drain. He shook his head, knowing this was a sure sign his shift at work was going to be miserable.
He squeezed the toothpaste over his yellowing toothbrush, running the bristles over his amazingly-still white teeth. Sammy made a mental note to buy a new toothbrush, and maybe if he splurged, a new tube of toothpaste too. Spitting the minty toothpaste foam out of his mouth, he watched it twirl down the drain off to join the cap.
Deciding against a shower, Sammy grabbed a tube of green hair gel out of the medicine cabinet. He smoothed back his dull brown hair while watching himself in the yellowing old mirror. Splashing water on his face, he kept up hope that maybe the water would make him look alive again.
He felt dead.
Every day, except Sunday, he slept all day in a room, where the light was impossible to keep out. It use to bother Sammy, but it didn’t anymore. He’d wake up at 9 every night; drag himself unexcitedly to work, which was a bartending job at the Emerald Bar down the street. He’d gotten himself stuck in a rut since his mother died. He wanted out. He’d dug a hole so deep in a self-pitying haze, he couldn’t figure out how to get out. He was stuck.
Knew it was time, he’d made up his mind, to leave his dead life behind.
Sammy threw on his ratty old rain coat, of course it was raining. When he stepped out of the hotel, he was pleasantly surprised to find that the rain wasn’t cold and miserable. In fact, it was warm, and washed over him like a comforting blanket.
The Emerald Bar was just down the street from the hotel. It was in an old red brick building that still had an advertisement painted on the side. The advertisement was for a bakery that had existed there, years and years ago, long before Sammy was born.
He entered the bar from the back ally. The eerie glow of the dim light in the bar gave the appearance that everyone in the room was battling a terrible case of jaundice. This was where Sammy spent his days, well nights really. The bar was small, and the floors were old with burn marks from the years past. The walls were stained from bar fights, and the wooden bar held secrets from stories told and whispered from troubled patrons throughout the years.
Sammy knew everyone in the bar, it was always the same. The old man in the corner with the gray hair, a bent frame, and blue eyes was Ronald. He lost his wife of 45 years on his birthday. Ronald was always sitting in the corner of the bar, drinking his Jack Daniels. Stacy, the woman with the blond-hair-from-the-bottle, and the low, low, low cut shirt, sat at the bar every day, hoping to pick up some under the covers business. The two younger men playing pool, one with blond hair, the other with brown, came three times a week; Monday, Wednesday and Friday. They came just to get away from their wives and kids.
This was a normal night at work for Sammy. He moved over to the bar without ever picking up his feet from the floor. He was too tired. Mentally and physically. It took too much out of him to actually pick up his feet. Pushing up the sleeves of his gray sweater, Sammy smiled weakly to Ronald. Sammy grabbed the Jack Daniels bottle from the bar and refilled Ronald’s glass. Ronald looked up and smiled, looking up and down Sammy’s sullen face. Ronald’s smile disappeared and he questioned Sammy.
“What’s troubling you son? Love troubles?” Everyone was a son to Ronald, especially the young bartender who had been a solid figure in his life for the past three year.
“Life troubles,” Sammy whispered back, heading back to the bar. He set the bottle of alcohol back in its rightful place, and then he rested his body against the bar. Sammy’s eyes followed Ronald as he got up and walked over to the bar, stopping in front of Sammy.
“Seriously Sam, what’s up?” Ronald was concerned. His young bartender seemed to be sinking deeper and deeper into something, he just wasn’t sure what.
“My name is Sammy, Ronald. We’ve been through this before.” Sammy hated being called Sam. Ronald ran his fingers through his horseshoe mustache. It was black, and Sammy wondered whether Ronald dyed it, or whether his hair naturally grayed faster on his head.
“I’m sorry. Sammy, please tell me what’s wrong. After all of these years of me dumping my problems on you, share some of yours with me.”
“It’s nothing” Sammy sighed. “I just…….” He let his sentence trail off into history.
“Feel stuck?” Ronald asked gently.
“Yeah,” Sammy grumbled back.
“Yeah, I’ve felt like that since, well, you know.” Ronald didn’t like to say it. “You’re young son, you’ll get passed this.” Ronald smiled kindly and walked away, but not before leaving a tip on the bar.
Sammy let his mind wander, dreaming of all the wonderful things he could do, places he could go. He wanted to swim with the fish in the ocean, see a parade in the streets of New Orleans, and hear the beating of his own heart as he jumped out of a plane, relying only on the parachute on his back.
“Sammy.” Sometimes Sammy wished he could just jump out of a plane and keep falling, to never come to a stop.
“Sammy.” He snapped out of his daydreaming and back to the heartbreaking truth. Reality. His boss stood before him with a broom.
“Sammy, Sweep the floor. That’s what I pay you for; working, not daydreaming.”
Sammy grabbed the broom, moving it back and forth against the floor, collecting all of the unwanted dust, glass, and whispered secrets into a pile.
His boss said to him “Boy you’d better begin to get those crazy notions right out of your head.
Sammy who do you think that you are? You should’ve been sweeping up the Emerald Bar.”
The broom had been rested against the wall adjacent to the bar and Sammy was now busy listening to a distraught woman sitting at the bar.
“He….jjjjust….llleft me!’” The blond sobbed. Sammy slid a shot glass filled with something strong toward the blue eyed girl, chuckling inwardly. This was nothing in his book. He’d talked people out of suicide, through break ups, even deaths. He could handle this woman. Sammy looked over her as she gulped down her strong drink. Now that he really got a good look at her, she seemed more like a girl, and less like a woman. Her blond hair and light skin made her look unhealthy and pale. The black mascara and purple eyeliner that was once around her eyes, now painted her face. Sammy didn’t say anything to the girl when she looked up at him. Instead, he smiled weakly.
“We were dating for four years and he just c-c-comes home today and says he’s leaving me for someone else.”
“You know, maybe he isn’t worth all of this.” Sammy offered, gently, motioning toward her appearance and her endless tears.
“But, I invested so much into us. I thought he wa-wa-was the one.”
“Yeah, and I never saw myself stuck in the middle of nowhere, sweeping the floors of a bar. Life’s a bitch.” He got a small smiled and giggle from her. “Maybe, this is all for the better.” As the last words rolled out of Sammy’s mouth, the bell on the entrance door rang, drawing the attention from Sammy, who was now staring at what had just entered the door.
He was tall, so very, very, very, tall. His hair was so black it looked blue, and his eyes held oceans, deserts, mountains, and fields full of flowers. Everything about the man, who was wearing tight jeans and a brown leather jacket, screamed adventure. Everything Sammy wasn’t. Everything Sammy wanted so badly to be. The man walked over towards the bar, sitting on the far side of where the blond-wreck-of- a-girl was sitting. She had started to pull herself together now. Her drink was gone, her glass dry, begging for more. Sammy topped off her drink.
“Are you going to be okay?” He asked her.
“Yeah,” She said with a weak smile. Something about this bartender to her was soothing and calming. Making everything seem like it was going to be alright.
“Maybe you’re right,” She added. “Maybe it’s all for the better. He left toothpaste in the bottom of the sink anyway, and that drives me crazy!” Sammy smiled, patting the woman’s hand in congratulation of her new-found freedom.
Spread your wings and fly away. Fly away, Far away. Spread your little wings and fly away. Fly away,
Far away. Pull yourself together ‘cos you know you should do better. That’s because you’re a free man.
Sammy grabbed a glass from under the bar and headed over towards the man that he so very much wished he could be. He set the glass in front of the man and looked up to see the man’s ridiculously green eyes. But these eyes weren’t just green. These eyes were pink, blue and brown too. The stories they held shouted adventure and took Sammy’s breath away.
“What can I get for you?” Sammy asked. The man seemed to stop all brain production, attempting to comprehend the bartender’s words. The minute he opened his mouth, Sammy could tell English wasn’t this man’s first language. He had a fantastic accent that Sammy couldn’t place.
“Vodka, Please, I’m not even supposed to be here.” Sammy nodded, pouring the liquor into his glass. Sammy turned around to place the bottle back where it belonged, and when he turned back around, the alcohol he had given the man was already gone.
“Relationship troubles too?” Sammy questioned while nodding toward the blond across the bar, who was now yakking away on her blackberry. The man smiled, and what a bright smiled it was.
“I guess it’s an international thing bartenders do huh?” The man asked, chuckling.
“Huh?”
“I’ve been all around the world, and the bars are all different, but all the bartenders have one thing in common.”
“What?” Sammy was curious.
“Every bartender I’ve ever met solves everyone else’s problems without even noticing.””
“I’m just doing my job.” Sammy answered back, flattered.
“You know, most bartenders are too busy taking care of everyone else’s problems. They forget to solve their own.”
“Huh.” Sammy whispered. He was fully aware he had problems, he was just too afraid to deal with them. The man sitting at the bar cleared his throat several times, trying to get his bartender’s attention. Sammy finally snapped out of his fog and apologized to his costumer.
“Could you please tell me where I can stay for a couple of nights?” The man asked Sammy.
“You’re not from here then?” Sammy asked, already knowing the answer.
“Nope, I’m just visiting. The trains are down; I was heading for Kansas City to catch a plane to Tampa. So here I am; small town America.”
“There’s a quiet Bed&Breakfast down the street. Keep walking from here and you’ll find it.”
“Thank you!” The man said, setting down his money on the bar. As the man turned to leave, Sammy stopped him.
“I never got your name….”
“It’s Luc.”
“Luke?”
“No, Luc. It’s French. I’m French.” And with that, Luc walked away, out of the bar, and what Sammy thought would be; out of his life. The rest of Sammy’s night at work was uneventful, well, to the onlooker anyway. Inside Sammy’s head was a storm brewing. Sammy wanted out of his life, and into someone else’s. Someone like Luc, someone who isn’t afraid to take risks and jump at any chance for adventure. That’s what Sammy wanted to be.
He spends his evenings alone in his hotel room, keeping his thoughts to himself. He’d be leaving
Soon. Wishing he was miles and miles away, nothing in this world, nothing could make his stay.
Nights passed. Tuesday, Wednesday, when Thursday came and went, Sammy got off work at his usual 6 am. Sammy walked over to the local 24 hour ATM. It was the only thing in the small town that appeared to be from the 21st century.
After cashing his minimum wage check, he stopped by the local store, which too, was in a very small brick building, like every other building in town. After picking various items to fill the mini fridge in his hotel room, Sammy returned to the hotel, quickly passing out on his bed. He was so tired; he hadn’t even gotten a chance to pull back the covers.
He was sleeping on top of the rough fabric comforter. The comforter was made of some foreign fabric, polyester; Sammy had guessed when he first moved into the hotel. It had lumps of cotton filling, here and there, from years of washing. Just like Sammy’s life, the comforter hadn’t changed since he had moved in three years ago.
When he was growing up, Sammy always dreamed of going to college and studying abroad. Sammy had been raised by a single mother. He never knew who his father was, and Sammy suspected he was a result of a one night stand. Even on her deathbed, his mother wouldn’t tell Sammy what had happened. Not knowing who his father was left Sammy feeling like there was always something missing, but he figured maybe it was for the better. His mother was only protecting him. She always protected him.
Sammy was 17 and planning for college when his mother was diagnosed with a brain tumor. She had been waking in the middle of the night with a terrible headache, which led to her doctor’s visit. Although his mother was strictly against it, Sammy forwent college, allowing his years and years of saved money for college to go towards his mother’s treatment and hospital bills instead. When his mother’s condition turned for the worst, Sammy knew she was too old and too weak to beat the cancer that had spread to her lungs and spinal cord. She smiled until the very end, and Sammy was happy she was no longer in pain.
Three weeks later, he moved out of the house, selling it, and moved into the hotel. It was only suppose to be for a little while, but now Sammy found himself stuck, only twenty-four, and already an old man. Sammy craved change. He had grown so afraid of change, that he hadn’t changed anything in years, not even his hair. He was ready. He needed some change in his life, and fast.
Friday night began with Sammy dropping a Whiskey bottle on the ground. Sammy just stood watching as the glass shattered to pieces, and the liquid covered the floor. He could hear his boss come up behind him, and turning around, he saw his boss’s anger-red face, confirming his suspicions.
“Sammy, what’s your fucking problem? You’ve got to stop this dreaming if you want to keep your job.” The boss stomped away, but not before assuring Sammy the bottle would be taken out of his paycheck.
As Sammy was bent over, cleaning up spilt liquor, he heard the door open. The heavy clomp of boots headed towards the bar.
“Need help?” A deep voice asked. Sammy had heard that voice before and when he looked up, he quickly placed the voice with a familiar face. Luc.
“No, I’ve got it.” He said while brushing the final pieces of glass in a dust pan.
“What can I get you?” Sammy asked the French man after throwing out the glass pieces and soiled towels.
“Just water.”
“Nothing stronger?” Sammy asked, grabbing a bottle of water for Luc.
“Nope, I don’t need it.”
“I thought you were just in town until the trains were up again. They’ve been up since yesterday.”
“I was, and I know.” Luc said smiling.
“But?”
“But, I’m interested in getting to know what small town life is like.
“Why?” Sammy looked at the man in front of him like he was a leper. “Why would anyone want to stay here?” Sammy questioned. This man was crazy!
“I find it very enchanting. I’ll be writing about this place in my book.”
“Book?”
“Yes, I have to get money to travel somehow. So I write about my travels.” Sammy found himself growing more and more jealous of Luc as their conversation continued. Luc had been to New York, London, Paris, Tokyo, and LA. He’d been everywhere! He was tall, handsome, educated, talented, and French. He was everything Sammy wanted to be.
“I don’t have it all you know.” Luc said. He could feel the jealousy radiating from Sammy. Luc understood that from the outside, he seemed to have it all. But under it all Luc, was lonely. So lonely, he never stayed in one place for too long. Sammy looked at Luc, puzzled.
“I travel, constantly, because I’m terribly lonely. If I stay in one place for too long, I think about it. So much, I can’t even get out of bed. I have no family, no friends. I don’t even have a town to call home.”
Sammy sat down on the stool next to Luc, soaking in what Luc had just said. Sammy had one thing Luc didn’t, and that was a place to call home. This small town that Sammy had always seen as more of a pain in his life than anything else, was his home.
“I never thought of it that way.” Sammy whispered. Luc shook his head and swallowed the last of his water.
“I could use something stronger now.” Luc chuckled. Sammy got up, handing Luc a glass filled to the top with Scotch.
“What about you?” Luc asked as Sammy sat down next to him again.
“I work here every night,” Sammy said, shrugging.
“That’s it?” Luc asked. “No family?”
“No.”
“You live here?”
“Kinda, I rent a room.” The two grew silent. Luc fiddling with his glass, and Sammy picking at the peeling leather on the chair he was sitting on.
“Sammy?” Luc asked. His throat was raw from minutes without talking and from the harsh drink in his glass.
“Yeah?”
“Do you want to come with me to Tampa?”
Since he was small, had no luck at all, nothing came easy to him. Now it was time, he’d made up his mind. “This could be my last chance.” His boss said to him “Now listen boy! You’re always dreaming
You’ve got no real ambition, you won’t get very far. Sammy boy don’t you know who you are? Why can’t you be happy at the Emerald Bar?”
Sammy let out a dramatic laugh.
“Yeah, right.”
“I’m serious.” Luc’s voice was serious, grabbing Sammy’s full attention.
“Seriously?”
“You’re young; you’ve got no family, no real responsibilities. Live a little.” Sammy just sat there, stunned. Luc was sure Sammy’s jaw almost reached the floor.
“Please! Come with me.” Sammy’s head began to shake back and forth.
“You never know, you might find yourself somewhere between Chicago and Paris. Please.” Luc was practically begging now, like a dog sitting by the table when there is steak for dinner.
So honey; Spread your wings and fly away. Fly away, far away. Spread little wings and fly away. Fly away, far away. Pull yourself together ‘cos you know you should do better. That’s because you’re a free man. C’mon Honey. Fly with me.
For once in his life, Sammy took a chance. He willingly changed his life. He had gotten himself stuck and now, he had gotten himself out. Sammy, spread his wings and told Luc,
“Yes.”
Sunday, May 1, 2011
September 11, 2001
We will never forget.
We will never forgive. I will remember 9/11 the day I lost my childhood...and I will remember 5/1/2011, the day I got, just a little bit of it, back.
If granted 3 wishes, I would bring back Freddie Mercury, John Lennon, and Elvis Presley to save the music industry from destroying itself. Music use to be a form of expression, an art. Where did we go wrong? Now it's whatever sells. It's become a business.
Pulling out of school parking lot today, may have been the most awakening moment I have had in my life so far. It's a two lane drive, one for going left, the other for going right. We were waiting to turn left, when someone in the right lane obstructed our view. My mom (who was driving for me since I had an awful headache) had already started to turn, but can to a screeching stop. 3 cars, going 55 mph would have crashed into the passenger door of our car, where I was sitting, if she hadn't stopped. We didn't come out perfect, our back bumper was crashed into by a egger high school boy behind us, but it turned out so much better than it could have. It startled me, a lot. I was very close to being seriously hurt, if not worse. It made me think how small and insignificant we really are. If I had died today, in the accident, the world would still be here, people would still be going about their days as if nothing happened. If you died tomorrow, are you happy with what you've done today, yesterday, the weeks, and years before? These are the days of our lives. Tomorrow never knows, tomorrow is NOT promised. We are always, ALWAYS, living for tomorrow, but maybe it's time we start trying to live for today.
Monday, April 18, 2011
"I'm knitting with only one needle Unraveling fast it's true I'm driving only three wheels these days But my dear, how about you ? I'm going slightly mad I'm going slightly mad It finally happened It finally happened - oh yes It finally happened - I'm slightly mad ! Just very slightly mad ! And there you have it !" -"I'm Going Slightly Mad" Queen
