Chapter Thirty-One

It was silent for a while as we walked the winding paths in the less populated part of a nearby park. All around us, the plants were giving off a waxy smell in anticipation of a rare rain cloud that been steadily hovering over us and growing in size since we stepped foot out of doors. Even though there was pressure all around us, barometric and figurative, I was still comfortable with this sort of silence. Elijah was like that when he was thinking something through. It comforted me that someone was taking my situation seriously and putting a lot of thought into what he would say to me next.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, but my walking partner didn’t seem to care, so neither did I.

The sound of an ice cream truck tinkled an ominous tune just beyond the thick, lush cluster of trees in the park where the banana slugs slithered out onto the flora, eagerly awaiting a much needed shower.

“I would say that I don’t envy you at all, but we’re more or less two guys in the same position,” said Elijah.

It was surprising that he was admitting this, but then again, he had just seen more of me than I would have liked him to have seen, so maybe it was only fair that he was equally as open with me.

“I don’t think I need to tell you why or in what capacity,” he continued. “I’ve been pretty explicit about that.”

He sighed.

“Maybe I’m not the person to help you with it, after all,” he said. “I’m barely qualified to help your situation when I’m not quite sure what to do with my own; clean your own room before you set out to clean up the world and all that…”

I nodded even though everything he was saying just sounded like discordant ramblings to me.

“I’m going to be honest with you,” Elijah continued. “I came here ready to completely tear into this guy and look for some ulterior motive. I mean, you weren’t there for that long. How could he possibly developed any substantial feelings for you?”

“Thanks,” I said, somewhat sarcastically.

“No,” Elijah said. “But that’s just what I’m saying. When I saw that…that… painting! It just turned my expectations around on its head! What kind of creature did you find out there in Wisconsin?”

I shrugged, unable to answer. Elijah chuckled a little bit.

“It seems that unusual and fantastic creatures are born and bred there, at least that’s what I’ve been led to believe,” he said.

“That’s not the case,” I assured him.

“Well,” he said. “Based on Sara, my one on one personal experience would lead me to believe as much and now this rare work of art just shows up on your door…”

“They’re just as rare over there as they would be over here,” I said. “More so, actually. Ask Sara the next time you talk to her. She’ll tell you.”

Elijah let out a long, woeful, sigh that seemed to have a bit of a sob in it.

“Sara,” he said. “Sara, Sara, Sara… You know I took that job out in Eastern Europe when I realized how I felt about her. I thought seeing some real world danger and suffering would shake me out of this silly, school boy haze.”

“Did it?” I asked.

“I feel it even stronger,” Elijah mourned. “And I’m not saying this lightly. I tried to deny it, even while I was facing down automatic rifles and hiding recording devices on my body. I would face it all again if it meant I wouldn’t have to go through what I’m going through now.”

“Don’t you think you might be going over the line with the stoicism there, buddy?” I asked him. “Why don’t you tell her how you feel? It’s better than dealing with it alone.”

Elijah flashed me a severe, but not unkind look with his inky black eyes.

“And why don’t you just tell this Jerry fellow how you feel?” he asked.

I looked down at my feet. He had a point.

“It’s because we both care about them, Ron,” said Elijah. “I know it’s not your fault for not thinking through the consequences. This is the first time you’ve been in love. I think it has been for me as well, but I’ve seen how situations like this can ruin a person. Even if they reciprocated our feelings, what good would that do? Neither of them are in a position to maintain a healthy relationship and neither are we.”

“What are you saying, then?” I asked.

“I’m saying that I think you’re just going to have to let this go,” he said.

I did not like hearing that. All around me, the world had been sapped of its exuberance, the effect of which was furthered by the progressively graying sky.

The fact that it was about to storm did not help. I was not accustomed to this kind of weather in Southern California; it reminded me of the weather back in the Midwest. It made me ache even more for what I had left there.

“Are you letting her go?” I asked Elijah.

To be honest, it was partially out of retribution for what he said to me about having to let Jerry go. I knew that he wouldn’t like hearing about his troubles with Sara, implicitly or explicitly, anymore than I would enjoy this conversation. All, the same, I felt a little guilty when his frown was a perfect upside down “u”. He had always looked unhappy and not so pleasant to be around, but never before had I seen him look so sad. It was a byproduct of opening up his heart, I suppose.

“I’m trying, Ron,” he said. “I’m honestly, really trying.”

***

I swear to God, I never drink alone, but I sat and nursed a hard drink that night while staring at the painting Jerry had sent me.

I hated my own heart for the way it pounded upon seeing the piece. When I first returned to California, I had hoped that there may come a day when my very being did not feel as if it were being torn apart every time I allowed my mind to wander to the man I loved most in the world. I had even hope there may come a time when I no longer thought of him as the man I loved most in the world, but rather, the man I would have loved with all my soul had he not lived in the place that crushed my soul.

Thus far, it had not happened and it was becoming unbearable. The fatigue of living day after day, knowing that you would very probably never be whole again, at least in terms of romantic love, wears you down and it wears you down quickly. It was like a terminal illness.

I saw that, throughout the painting, the colors weren’t tinted with blue as I had initially thought. Rather, streaks of pure blue paint emerged from the colors themselves, as if threads of a sort of placid sadness coursed themselves through this specter of my being.

How did he manage that? I wondered before taking another sip of my drink.

There was no way I would be able to display this prominently in my house. It wasn’t just the personal nature of the way it depicted me; to see something like that day after day would be a burden on my being. The best way to describe it is that it would be like if anyone else had the chance to win a million dollars or save the life of someone they cared about, and they lost it and the photograph taken the moment before they lost it was hung up on the wall of their house. It would be unbearable!

Thinking these thoughts, I didn’t really do the best job of checking in with myself. So, when I finally paid attention to what my body was doing, I realized that my heart was absolutely racing!

Without even realizing it, I stood up. I ran up to my room and began to shove a change of clothes into a carry-on bag.

What are you doing? I asked myself over and over. What are you doing? What are you doing? What are you doing?

Part of me knew that I was going back out to Wisconsin, but the logical part of my brain still couldn’t believe it. What an absolutely preposterous idea!

I didn’t even pay attention to what clothes I shoved into my bag. Later, when I checked, it was a heavy sweater and a pair of cargo shorts. I was willing to look like a completely crazy person, such was my urge to get back to the man who had sent me the painting. Without even bothering to put my toothbrush into any sort of plastic bag or form of protection, I shoved it into a side pocket of my bag. I was ready; I ran down the stairs.

I grabbed a handful of dollar bills and whatever credit cards or checkbooks I had. Whatever form of income I would need to get me there would do. It didn’t matter if I got there by plane, bus, or train. Grabbing my keys on the way out as an afterthought, I swung open my front door. I was going there that night, and nothing could slow me down.

Well, almost nothing…

I screamed. I honest to God, screamed when, upon opening the door, I saw that broad chested form of Jerry standing on my stoop.