I love a rainy night

 The raindrops hit the window sill, the sky lights up and I am suddenly sitting in Mamaw's kitchen. She is baking her famous apple kuchen, baking it just for me. I can smell the rain through the screened back porch, it mixes with the dog pee as the porch is their bathroom as well. I sit on my stool and smile as she sings her favorite Eddie Rabbit song - I Love a Rainy Night - you see a rainy night washed away all of  his cares and just makes him feel good. I think of my time with Mamaw the same way. A big hug and my troubles were gone. She would send me to the utility room - washer/dryer and storage area - to fetch a bottle of soda, a bottle just for me. I'd open that bottle sitting at her table, savor every drop as she worked her magic in the kitchen or told me a story. I was one of her ten grandchildren, so one-on-one time with her was extra special. Like the Eddie Rabbit song, I always woke up to a sunny day after time with her. The power of a song to transport is amazing - Mamaw loved country music, so I am forever tied to Merle, Conway, Dolly and many more forever embedded in my memory.

Over there

 I didn't say where
especially not the street. 
Was it wrong

for a house to have wheels?

I lied and said

the neighborhood behind us.

Nobody pressed the question

as I am sure they really did not care.

There was no chimney

which explains Santa's absence.

I was not scared 

as the front door would not lock.

But every December

couldn't Santa just walk in?

We often laughed

as there was nothing to take.

I heard the sneers 

as I collected my free lunch at school.

My stomach often growled

as I inhaled every bite.

Nothing is ever really free

as you give up your dignity for sustenance.

There was no dad as teachers suggested

for the many projects.

Mom tried her best

as I died a little looking at others work.

Everybody had the new shoes

while mine were called out as 'buddies'.

My Star Wars shirt from Goodwill

as I had never seen the movie.

My JC Penney plain pocket jeans

as everybody else had the famous stitching.

Dad had said he'd be there

but never showed as I sat waiting.

Every Monday the room roared

as weekend stories were shared.

I never shared

as there was nothing to say.

Did I see the latest movie?

No.

Did I see the new store at the mall?

No.

Did I get the latest game?

No.

I made jokes

as comedy became my protector.

I pushed it all down

to avoid an implosion.

Gave them a look

You gave them a look.

I froze as she read from her notes.

That’s what you said last time we spoke, you said you thought you heard them say something, so you gave them a look.

It sounded pathetic, I felt numb.

I always keep notes, I write these things down.

Yeah, it makes sense is what I told her, but it made no sense. I could not fathom why she felt the need to tell me what she had written, or more clearly, what i had said or what I had said I said.

That’s what happened, right? They said something and you looked their way?

I think so, I really don’t remember. It was a lie, I did remember. I clearly remembered. The group to our left at my grandson’s game two weeks prior had made a comment that I deemed possibly negative towards him, so I gave them a look. 

So, what happened at the next game?

It had been two weeks since I talked to her. I was ashamed, embarrassed by her notes and reading them to me. It sounded like a boast, like I gave somebody a look that would result in something more. I am a coward, the look meant nothing and I did nothing.

Are you okay?

It just sounds weird to hear it now. I really don’t remember saying it, just weird.

Well, it just gives us a reference point to continue our past conversation. Has anything happened since?

No. 

That is good.

I never wanted to talk to her again. Therapy was stupid, why had I ever started talking to her? I was agitated, like I could cry but it channeled into anger. Thankfully, it was just a phone conversation, so she could not see my face.

Well, how are you doing? How is the anxiety, any more episodes?

No, I am okay. I should have told the the truth, I was panicking now - I fished a Xanax out of my drawer and swallowed with no water. 

The session continued for its allotted time - 55 minutes. I watched the clock tick away the minutes as there were no plans to ever do it again. It ended with an awkward discussion of how to continue - she obviously sensed issues on my end and I agreed to continue every other week sessions with the plan to end it before the next scheduled time.

With or without

"Would my sadness be worse with you, or without?" He mumbled while staring straight ahead.

"What?" She leafed through a magazine while never looking up.

"Nothing."

They sat on the patio in the chairs they found on clearance years ago at Lowe's. They gently rocked, which  he did while searching the clear blue sky for answers.

"I wonder what life would've been like with somebody else." He watched a cardinal land on the fence.

"Yeah, it is a great day, wonderful weather."

"I think about Becky and how she chased me. I wonder what could have been." He watched the Cardinal fly away - mocking him.

"I told you it was fine, don't worry about it, you're not old."

"I don't know, I should've moved far away. Left my crazy family behind and built my own life."

"Whatever you want, we could go to the Mexican place."

"I should not have settled, my confidence was always a problem."

"Let's do it, I'd love a margarita."

"I wonder what ever happened to Shannon."

"We need to put up everything before we go."

"Shannon, she pulled me aside at the party that time, told me how much she wanted me. I was so stupid."

"The front door is open, I'll get it." She pushes off the chair and drops magazine in the seat while going in the back door.

"Yeah, I should've gone for it, that would've forced my hand." He sighs while wiping his glasses with the front of his shirt. He turns at the sound of her car starting.

"You ready? Let's go!" She yells at him from the driver seat.

"Yeah, I'm coming."

"

Get up

"Are you okay?" I lean in for a closer look, finally squatting like a baseball catcher.

"Uhm, yeah, just a minute, let me get my bearings straight." He lets out a loud sigh.

"At least you didn't hit your head this time."

"You say so." He slowly sits up while rubbing the thin, gray hair.

"Do you want the wheelchair? You know it's right over there, like I said BEFORE this happened." I point to the other side of the room where the blue vinyl and chrome frame travel option awaits.

"No, just help me get back to the couch." The grumpiness is hard to miss.

I waddle closer and bend down on a knee while placing my hands in his armpits.

"Are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

"Ready? 1 .. 2 ... 3...." I grunt loudly while lifting him as he groans. I lower my body to position my left shoulder under his right.I maintain the grip on this hands and slowly wobble him the 3 feet to the couch. I kick the walker to the side and push the coffee table out with my foot before lowering onto the sofa.

"Ah thank you son." He reaches out and places my hands in his hands while slowly rubbing and patting.

"Anytime old man." I pull my hands away, embarrassed by the incident."

He leans back after grabbing a cigarette and taps the lighter to ignite it. He smiles after a long inhale.

"I never thought 79 would be such a rough year."

Scoping horror

I do not subscribe to the stars or horoscopes, but by chance I read them in today's paper. Here is what was listed for me (Aries):

As the pillar of stability that you are, you sometimes forget that in order to continue to withstand the pressures of day-to-day living you need love. Hugs and praise are key to your well-being.

I had a chill after reading it - looked over my shoulder for the surprise. The pressures of day-to-day living are what have been pushing me closer and closer to the edge these days. It always feels like I have to do everything and there is never the opportunity for my problems or concerns to be voiced or have any attention. Yes, I'm sure it is all in my head and plenty of people care, but ... well, I don't know about 'but' other than reading that fucking horoscope seemed like a sign. 

Are you still laughing? Yes, I said sign. Yes, I am now one of those people that feels like horoscopes are talking to me. No, I am not on the phone with a psychic at this moment. No, I am not visiting a horoscope any time soon. I feel the "pressures" in my shoulders - muscles in knots, I've been on edge, overreacting with every little thing these days. I have no point here other that WTF!?!

Handling over grievances

Killing another human being is not as hard as advertised. For me, I remember so many old novels where the protagonist grappled with the moral issues surrounding ending another life. Maybe it helps to have no morals? No, that is a flippant answer. Rather, sometimes there are just worthless and borderline evil persons among us. They are 'in the way' of the rest of us trying to navigate the perverse challenges and jagged pathway that encompasses our own life. You stumble upon a less than desirable sole and the consensus is the world does not need them - in fact, the world would be better without them. No, there is no judge and jury where facts and statements are presented to reach a unanimous verdict, but rather it is something you feel in your gut - or it could be a few companions discussing. In the end, it only takes one (queue the .... One is the Only Number song) to set things in motion accepting and meeting a challenge. This is where is can become a game of sorts - after all, nobody wants to go to prison for killing an unnecessary idiot. A key is reconnaissance - learn the target's methods and routine (if any) and look for vulnerable points. Ultimately, my mark had inflicted personal harm on me as a child (me the child, not him). We had no contact since that time and the, so-called incidents (in my mind) were never reported, so there was no connection between us. I checked my car and drove to the target's locale after work - 10 hour round trip journey. I did this a few times to collect details of the terrain and lay of the land and routine. He is 66 and lives alone - loves going to movies along with often grocery shopping and walking/running in a nearby park. On my forth trip, I joining in the park - eventually finding ourselves in steep valley area where a inadvertent (or so it looked) shove sent him overboard. I kept going trying to gauge damage while looking for onlookers. I finally was able to locate him down the hill - I kneeled over and looked into his eyes; asking him if he remembered the joy jide, the inappropriate touching and threats, he nodded just as I deposited a bullet between the eyes. I checked my surroundings and was back up the hill to finish the run. And, five hours later I was showering in my own home - a nemesis gone.