It wasn’t twilight by the time we pulled into the Credit Union parking lot. I know it wasn’t twilight because the sun like a giant painted moon was only half sunk behind the building. It was a big sunset too, the blinding pink kind. It was the kind of sunset cowboys ride off into. We were riding into it, but there wasn’t a cowboy in spitting distance. I thought of it as nothing more than a driving hazard.
I think sunsets and sunrises are over rated. If I were forced to pick one over the other it would be sunset, but honestly why chose between two moments in a day when there is so much going on in between. And since I have no preference I will tell you why I didn’t choose sunrise. It’s because of early risers. You know the back biters who talk too big about a preference for the sun rising as if this qualifies them to judge those of us who have only seen it by accident. Oh, you chose to rise at dawn, good for you. Here’s a gold star, now fuck off I’m trying to sleep! Even during the happiest times of my life sunrise has meant nothing more to me than a bad reason to get out of bed. Oh wow the dawn of another day.
This attitude of mine did not bode well in a household where sleeping late was considered a cardinal sin. Don’t you know, “the early bird gets the worm?” I don’t care about worms, do you? I spent much of my fucked up childhood just trying to get some sleep. Where’s the sin in that?
It always seemed to me that everyone in my family took on, to one degree or another, the persona of cruise director, puritanical pilgrim or anal-retentive-hun. Our unspoken, in-house motto, “All work and no play makes you a better person.” I had taken on the persona of washed up Tibetan Monk with a penchant for observation and alternating catatonia, the likes of which had to be slapped out of me by the biggest hand or loudest voice in the room.
Another leviathan on my path to normalcy was, I am a night person. And being a night person qualifies me to talk about all things night and all things dark. It’s where I do my best work. I can tell you this about darkness, it doesn’t fall, it just happens, but this story doesn’t take place in the dark, it takes place just before dark, before twilight even, in a bank parking lot sprinkled with cars and money grumblers.
People walking into and out of banks are always looking down. Some are looking down counting. Some are looking down at pieces of paper and some are just looking down at their shoes. Yes, there is the occasional upward glance, but for the most part it’s all down. I call these folks money grumblers. Not a happy face in the bunch, not even on a late Friday afternoon, not even on a payday. I’m wondering if these plebeians awaken at Dawn.
While I waited in the “SUV” for my then husband to come back with the cash I scanned the parking lot with a mind towards speculation and judgment. I often amuse myself making fun of others, but in the light of late day, when I am not at my best, sunshiny forces will often conspire and lob a wrench at my fun. This wrench turned out to be a shovel digging me deeper into the soap opera of my so-called life.
You see there was this guy whose name I can’t mention, let’s call him K, to whom I was engaged. He left me when he found someone more suitable. We will call that more suitable someone S. I loved K for 8 long and I mean 8 extraordinarily long years. Those years felt so long that I now see them as a mini separate lifetime that ran parallel to but were not actually a part of my now life, or alternatively they were a long walk on the red-red grass of hell, except for the sex part. I learned from this that when you are in Hell or on it’s needle sharp red fringe, you don’t care to notice. I mean yes, there’s that gnawing little voice always whispering, telling you to “get out!”, “get out!, “GET OUT!”, but who listens to that? Especially when there’s another much louder voice screaming at the top of it’s lungs the “exception-to-the-Hell-sucks-rules”, which we all know are, “yeah, but the sex is good!” and “He really loves me, he’s just doesn’t know it yet!”
When K hooked up with S I saw it as another betrayal in life’s little eggs nest of shitty relationships instead of the prodigious get out of Hell free card that it clearly was. And when it ended I did what any insane, heartsick, horny, night person would do. I found someone else. At first it was a couple someone else’s, you know, to ease the pain, but they were short-lived, steamy one night stands which helped me over – pardon the pun – hump into the arms of the transitional man who I would eventually marry and divorce. We will call that man R.
So there I am sitting in the truck in the bank parking lot doing what I was born to do, observe and judge. When out of the corner of my eye I see – get ready for it – K and R walking out together, not looking down but up towards the middle row of cars. K peels off in an arched half circle, still muttering to R, who is heading away from me towards, you guessed it, S who is now emerging somewhat gleefully from the passenger’s side of K’s car. K, unfortunately is heading directly towards me, checking his pocket-watch, (yeah pocket-watch) which he keeps tethered on a gold chain clasped to the belt loop nearest his right front pocket. While I am astutely more interested in what R and S are doing I cannot help but notice that as K ages he takes on more and more the semblance of a leprechaun.
Now you may be wondering how it is that my X-fiance, his new girlfriend, my new husband and I were all friends. Well let’s just say that I was formerly introduced to S for the first time at my “surprise” engagement party to R. She attended with K. The party was hosted by a good-good friend of mine who may not have realized how distracted I would be at having my X-fiance and the love interest he left me for in the same room as me and my husband to be. I think her inner freak took charge and was amused in perpetuity at the prospect of me and my biggest rival meeting and this was the one and only opportunity she had to manifest that desire. Why those two accepted the invitation is beyond me.
I pay attention too much. Like a human camcorder I record visual images and store them like a CPU, but while I am in storage mode time slows down, almost stops, while life around me continues at its normal pace. So events are taking place. I am recording and all of a sudden wham. K is knocking on the window.
This is my curse. And while I knew, knew he was heading towards me I couldn’t stop myself from recording S, not right off the bat, not in a million years, not if you lit a fire under my ass, which actually happened to me once, but it was a firecracker, but anyway.
In my own defense I seriously doubt anyone could not at least notice her shirt. It was a nondescript T tucked into denims whose degree of fade had gone out of fashion many years before. You see it wasn’t the type of shirt, it was the color. Bright yellow to the yellow side, you know, the kind of yellow happy people wear. The kind of yellow cruise directors wear. Golfers sometimes wear yellow too, but not like this. Her top and bottom were cut in half by a wide brown leather belt and a shiny brass buckle. I knew by her outfit that she was an early riser.
What she was wearing paled in comparison to how she was moving towards R. I’m not sure if the words “moving towards” accurately describe her gait. It was stealthy, yes, but something about her arms was just wrong. They were bent at the elbows, upward facing, palms out, moving rhythmically in opposition to her steps, like windshield wipers clearing the air before it had a chance to ruffle her outfit. Was it a defense mechanism? I hadn’t noticed this before, but then I had never observed her in the light of day. This was the second time I’d seen her and my recorder was set on high. The hypnotic rhythm of her arms moving to and fro like blades on my windshield put me into a trance of sorts, so K had to knock a couple times before I pressed the button and lowered the window. K had managed, without my noticing to light a cigarette, on his way over. He rolled his own and as he spoke he would pause to spit tobacco. He never got it past his lips on the first try.
He said, “Hello, How are you?” Inhale, exhale, double spit. I said, “Fine how are you?” He said, “I could be better.” Spit, double spit. I said, “Why, what’s the matter?” Inhale, exhale, spit, then he whispers, “S has cancer.”
To Be Continued . . .
Wow! Excellently written…I can’t wait for the rest!
Oh, Thank you. I was just over at your blog. Am awaiting your next post!
I love this almost staccatto rhythm to this piece. Sort of point/counter point of the italics and the normal print. One setting up, the other knocking down. I know you have more to write on this moment, but here is my 2 cents on sunsets:
The only time I ever get to enjoy a sunset is on the beach or on an island, so for me, if I’m enjoying the beauty of a sunset, it reminds me of vacation or the warmth of summer. I have many fond memories that revolve around good friends and beautiful locations that all include that wonderful tranistion between the light and dark. My favorite memory of all was sitting in a lawn chair on Monhegan Island off the coast of Maine, watching the boats come and go, feeling the slowly fading warmth of the sun being replaced by a gentle breeze coming in from the gulf….memories like that moment will always make sunsets dear to me.
But sunrises…..ick! Unless I’m camping, there is no need whatsoever to even remotely witness one of those…
When camping, really can’t avoid it: birds start singing long before the sun even makes its entrance and at that point, might as well get up, start a fire and put the coffee on and watch the mist slowly fade as the sun peaks up over the hillsides…
I hadn’t noticed the rhythm myself…Thank you for pointing that out! What you wrote about sunsets is so nice. The ocean is one of my favorite places to be and yes I love sunsets there too. Colors you can’t describe, even with pictures and then there’s twilight, which doesn’t linger long enough. It’s magic time and so much better at the end of the day than in the morning. When you go camping you’re on what I call nature time and sunrise is unavoidable, but then camping doesn’t count does it? I hate to admit it, but it seems almost right to get up with birds when you’re out in the wild! Coffee does help though!
“I knew by her outfit that she was an early riser.”
I love that line….gonna steal that and use in every day conversation…:)
Be my guest. I would love to be quoted! 🙂
I only recently started camping again. Something about hiking out to some deserted lake or pond in the middle of the mountains, pitching a tent and just enjoying the quiet and serenity of nature for awhile rejuvenates me. I only went once this past summer and the year before, I managed 3 times…:) But before that, I was still with the ex…her idea of camping or roughing it was going to a roadside motel instead of a Marriott….*sighs*
Going out into the woods is nice and can never be compared to staying in a Motel. Just don’t get the real feel of it! The thing is girls need bathrooms more than guys, (in my humble experience), that’s the only downside for me. I wish it weren’t so. I have roughed it myself many times. So there’s some yang for you in this, now you can rejuvenate! 🙂
Wow, that is deep!
“I saw it as another betrayal in life’s little eggs nest of shitty relationships instead of the prodigious get out of Hell free card that it clearly was”
Who ever notices the Get out of Hell free card when it is dealt?
I notice them now . . .
I never seem to see those cards until it’s far too late. I was probably handed many of those, served up on golden platters with big neon signs that said “Get out NOW!!!!!!” but I just blindly carried on…..it took a good friend sitting me down and pointing out the obvious for me to see how messed up things REALLY were….
At least you listened! I was stubborn and didn’t listen to my friends, duh!
This was SO enthralling; I am terribly under the weather, and I look forward to reading parts II and III this weekend whilst in bed to help me feel better! 🙂
PS: you have such beautiful descriptive imagery in your writing: “The hypnotic rhythm of her arms moving to and fro like blades on my windshield put me into a trance of sorts”…I loved that! 🙂
I’m sorry that you aren’t feeling well. I hope you get better soon! Thanks for saying that about my descriptions! I can’t wait to hear what you think about the story, overall….:)
You know how amazing your writing is. I love that I get to hear you read it. My personal storyteller. Love you.
I’m glad to be able to read it to you, it’s a blessing really! Love you too!
Interesting how your writing could remind me of things I notice but had forgotten regarding the three characters. It made the view in my head sharper. Excellent. I saw the thick brown belt before you wrote so when I read it I cracked up. great job.
Glad to oblige! Thanks so much for reading!