CHAPTER 15
Hi God, it’s Tim. We both know I don’t normally come to you with stuff like this, because I know that it’s not your nature, or the nature of our relationship. I know that you’re not some being “out there” and instead you’re “in here”. But I don’t know what else to do. I guess I just feel helpless, and maybe in this time of need it’s comforting to think of you out there, watching over me. I mean, the book really did help me to remember how the conversation works. But I guess with all that’s happened, I’ve forgotten again. That’s why I’m coming to you now, like this. On my knees, praying. Please, bring them back.
Even as I kneel here and think about it, it seems crazy. What are you going to do, bring them back from the grave like zombies? That’s just stupid. I mean I guess you could turn back time and make it so they didn’t die in the first place. You are Omnipotent. I know! You could make it so that they faked their own death, for like a witness protection program, and they’ve been alive all along and they haven’t gotten word to me yet. It would look more convincing this way if anyone is keeping an eye on me. Wait, that’s stupid too. I know it’s not up to me how you do it. It’s probably outside the realm of my understanding anyway. So OK, go ahead. Do what you need to do. Still no?
Ok, what if I promise to start going to church again? I’ll go every day and twice on Sunday. How about…girls. I’ll give up on girls. I’ll stay single and devote my life to you. What if I never play video games again and I give up all of my comic books? I’ll work in soup kitchens and give all my stuff to homeless people. I’ll quit composition and I’ll become a music teacher if that’s what you want. I’ll do anything you want me to do, just please give them back.
“Sigh…whatever.”
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Friday, June 20, 2008
Chapter 14
CHAPTER 14
“This is so fucked up! My Dad’s a Firefighter. We had smoke alarms in the house. How could this happen?”
“I don’t know man. It…I don’t know.”
I’m back in that favorite doughnut place with my best friend again. This time the conversation is very different.
“It doesn’t make any sense. None of them woke up at any point and noticed? Not one of them thought, ‘Gee, it’s really hot in here’ or ‘I wonder where all the smoke is coming from’? I mean fucking burned alive! How horrible is that!?”
“Actually, when people die in a fire like that, it’s from smoke inhalation. They suffocate before the flames get to them. It’s very rare that someone actually burns alive.”
“Well thank God for small favors!” I say sarcastically.
“I just figured you’d feel better about it if you knew that it was at least…peaceful.”
“Sigh…I guess. OK, yeah you’re right. I’m glad that they weren’t burning and screaming with their skin melting off when they died. But that doesn’t change the fact that they’re gone.”
“I know.”
“If someone had called sooner and if the fire trucks had gotten there faster, maybe it wouldn’t have happened. Maybe one of them would have woken up when they heard the siren and gotten everyone out.”
“Maybe, but…”
“And how did the fire even start!? Did someone leave a candle burning or a curling iron plugged in or something? My family’s too obsessive compulsive and afraid of something like that happening to not check and make sure before going to bed.”
“That’s true, but…”
“FUCK! Do you know what the worst part is? The whole time I was at my concert, I was pissed off at them. I thought they just forgot or didn’t feel like driving down or blew me off. I was livid! Come to find out, they were dead. They’re dead and all I could think about is how they weren’t at my concert.”
“Hey, don’t beat yourself up.”
“RRRRGOD!” After this last outburst I got very tired all of a sudden. I put my head down in my arms, on the table. “I just feel…crazy. That’s the only way I can describe it. Does that make sense.”
“It’ll be OK. I don’t know how or when, and I know you probably can’t imagine it being OK, but it will be. You will be OK.”
“God help me.”
“This is so fucked up! My Dad’s a Firefighter. We had smoke alarms in the house. How could this happen?”
“I don’t know man. It…I don’t know.”
I’m back in that favorite doughnut place with my best friend again. This time the conversation is very different.
“It doesn’t make any sense. None of them woke up at any point and noticed? Not one of them thought, ‘Gee, it’s really hot in here’ or ‘I wonder where all the smoke is coming from’? I mean fucking burned alive! How horrible is that!?”
“Actually, when people die in a fire like that, it’s from smoke inhalation. They suffocate before the flames get to them. It’s very rare that someone actually burns alive.”
“Well thank God for small favors!” I say sarcastically.
“I just figured you’d feel better about it if you knew that it was at least…peaceful.”
“Sigh…I guess. OK, yeah you’re right. I’m glad that they weren’t burning and screaming with their skin melting off when they died. But that doesn’t change the fact that they’re gone.”
“I know.”
“If someone had called sooner and if the fire trucks had gotten there faster, maybe it wouldn’t have happened. Maybe one of them would have woken up when they heard the siren and gotten everyone out.”
“Maybe, but…”
“And how did the fire even start!? Did someone leave a candle burning or a curling iron plugged in or something? My family’s too obsessive compulsive and afraid of something like that happening to not check and make sure before going to bed.”
“That’s true, but…”
“FUCK! Do you know what the worst part is? The whole time I was at my concert, I was pissed off at them. I thought they just forgot or didn’t feel like driving down or blew me off. I was livid! Come to find out, they were dead. They’re dead and all I could think about is how they weren’t at my concert.”
“Hey, don’t beat yourself up.”
“RRRRGOD!” After this last outburst I got very tired all of a sudden. I put my head down in my arms, on the table. “I just feel…crazy. That’s the only way I can describe it. Does that make sense.”
“It’ll be OK. I don’t know how or when, and I know you probably can’t imagine it being OK, but it will be. You will be OK.”
“God help me.”
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Chapter 13
CHAPTER 13
It was a dream. It was all a bad dream. I must have watched a fucked up movie this week. Or maybe ate something weird before I went to bed last night. I should get up. Maybe I’ll give them a call. What day is it? Maybe the concert hasn’t happened yet. Maybe I dreamed that too. I should go see what day it is. Maybe I have class today. It might be a weekday. I’ll go check. In a minute. I do have to piss though. OK, I’ll get up.
I got out of bed and went straight to the bathroom. I could hear the TV on and then my roommate moving around. When I came out of the bathroom, he startled me, because he was right there in the hallway.
“Ah! Hey, what’s up? What time is it?”
“Twelve thirty. How…how are you?”
“Good. I had some fucked up dreams, but I got a lot of sleep. How are you?”
“Um…I’m fine. Listen…”
“Hey, what day is it?”
“Wednesday.”
“Wednesday? Well I guess I’m not going to class then, haha. How come you’re not in class?”
“I told you I’d go with you.”
“Go? Do I have something today? Let me check my planner.”
I run into my room and quickly fish through my bag. When I find my planner, I flip through to this month. By this time my roommate is standing in my doorway.
“Oh, his wake is today. I must’ve dreamed going to that too. You’re coming to the wake with me?”
“No…well yeah, but today we’re going to make the arrangements.”
“Oh no, his family took care of that all ready. I do want to go to his wake though, and that’s cool that you’re coming.”
“What? No, that was last week.”
“No, today. Look, you said it’s Wednesday, here it is in my planner, “wake”.”
“That’s last week. This is today. We’re going to…”
“No, because here’s where my Wind Ensemble concert is and that’s this coming Sunday…”
“No, that was last Sunday.”
“No, that was a dream, which means the concert didn’t happen yet, which means that it is this coming Sunday!”
“You really don’t know what we’re doing today do you?”
“Yes it’s right here: the wake!”
“Tim…we’re going to make funeral arrangements…”
“I told you, his family is doing them.”
“For your family!”
“Fuck you! That’s not fuckin’ cool! How would you like it if after you got up, all disoriented from a nightmare, I tried to trick you into thinking your family was dead and that it was one week into the future!?”
“I’m not trying to trick you. You must’ve blocked it out or something…”
“IT. WAS. A. DREAM!!”
“Tim, it wasn’t.”
“Oh yeah, then how did they die?”
“…The house burned down with everyone in it.”
“…”
“You came home Sunday, after your Wind Ensemble concert and said that they didn’t show up. There was a message from your Grandmother on the answering machine. You called her back and that’s when she told you. Then you passed out. You’ve been mostly just sleeping the past couple of days. That’s probably why you don’t remember much and think it was a dream. You are going today to make all the funeral arrangements and I’m going with you.”
“FUCK YOU!!” I scream and then I start to cry. I stand there sobbing with my head and shoulders slumped. After a while he puts his arm around me.
“Come on man, let’s go do this work.”
It was a dream. It was all a bad dream. I must have watched a fucked up movie this week. Or maybe ate something weird before I went to bed last night. I should get up. Maybe I’ll give them a call. What day is it? Maybe the concert hasn’t happened yet. Maybe I dreamed that too. I should go see what day it is. Maybe I have class today. It might be a weekday. I’ll go check. In a minute. I do have to piss though. OK, I’ll get up.
I got out of bed and went straight to the bathroom. I could hear the TV on and then my roommate moving around. When I came out of the bathroom, he startled me, because he was right there in the hallway.
“Ah! Hey, what’s up? What time is it?”
“Twelve thirty. How…how are you?”
“Good. I had some fucked up dreams, but I got a lot of sleep. How are you?”
“Um…I’m fine. Listen…”
“Hey, what day is it?”
“Wednesday.”
“Wednesday? Well I guess I’m not going to class then, haha. How come you’re not in class?”
“I told you I’d go with you.”
“Go? Do I have something today? Let me check my planner.”
I run into my room and quickly fish through my bag. When I find my planner, I flip through to this month. By this time my roommate is standing in my doorway.
“Oh, his wake is today. I must’ve dreamed going to that too. You’re coming to the wake with me?”
“No…well yeah, but today we’re going to make the arrangements.”
“Oh no, his family took care of that all ready. I do want to go to his wake though, and that’s cool that you’re coming.”
“What? No, that was last week.”
“No, today. Look, you said it’s Wednesday, here it is in my planner, “wake”.”
“That’s last week. This is today. We’re going to…”
“No, because here’s where my Wind Ensemble concert is and that’s this coming Sunday…”
“No, that was last Sunday.”
“No, that was a dream, which means the concert didn’t happen yet, which means that it is this coming Sunday!”
“You really don’t know what we’re doing today do you?”
“Yes it’s right here: the wake!”
“Tim…we’re going to make funeral arrangements…”
“I told you, his family is doing them.”
“For your family!”
“Fuck you! That’s not fuckin’ cool! How would you like it if after you got up, all disoriented from a nightmare, I tried to trick you into thinking your family was dead and that it was one week into the future!?”
“I’m not trying to trick you. You must’ve blocked it out or something…”
“IT. WAS. A. DREAM!!”
“Tim, it wasn’t.”
“Oh yeah, then how did they die?”
“…The house burned down with everyone in it.”
“…”
“You came home Sunday, after your Wind Ensemble concert and said that they didn’t show up. There was a message from your Grandmother on the answering machine. You called her back and that’s when she told you. Then you passed out. You’ve been mostly just sleeping the past couple of days. That’s probably why you don’t remember much and think it was a dream. You are going today to make all the funeral arrangements and I’m going with you.”
“FUCK YOU!!” I scream and then I start to cry. I stand there sobbing with my head and shoulders slumped. After a while he puts his arm around me.
“Come on man, let’s go do this work.”
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