Sunday, March 8, 2009

"The Alex Show" Episode 4


The average person would be shivering in my position, but I have adapted to colder conditions over time. I think my body takes the expression "overheated" in a literal sense, so a frigid state is necessary to keep my cool - so to speak. Still, I cannot decide if my extraordinary warmth is what keeps my teeth from chattering, or if my blood flows cold and coarse and I am within my natural element. I am in the highest of spirits, regardless. My belly is full of well done chocolate cake - both scrumptious and a little overcooked - and I am resting after a long night of biking, hiding, snacking, and sharing. Everything is slowing down now - as if time is not already at a standstill in her presence - and for the first time since I came over here, I can hear us breathing. I can feel her watching me as we lie together in the bed of a pickup. I am open, more so than I wish to be, and it is surprising how whole I feel when she can see right through me. I look up to the sky, and something catches my eye.

Flash. Flash. Flash.

I am not seeing things twice, but there is something familiar above. It is nearing morning and I have not closed my eyes but to blink. However, my sight does not deceive me for I am certain she can see it, too.

Flash. Flash. Flash.

There is a whisper in the air, and I can only grasp faint echoes questioning my discomfort. Segments of monotonous conversation reverberate from one ear to the next clashing the past with the present.

Flash! Flash! Flash!

It grows louder, deafening almost, and it is impossible to remember that I am real. I am not in a truck. I am not with her. I am not my age. I am not named, just labeled, but I cannot see what my label reads. The flash is blinding as it is blaring, and I can focus on nothing but its bright red light.

Flash! Flash! Flash!

I am paralyzed from the waste down, but I do not bother to flail my arms or cry for help. I do not require assistance. I am certain I could escape by myself if I truly needed to. Instead, I stare harder into the flashing red light, counting seconds in cadence to its flickers.

Flash, one. Flash, two. Flash, skip a few. Flash, ninety-nine, awaken.

"Alex! Alex, what's wrong?!" she screams, shaking me vigorously.

"What? Wrong? Nothing is wrong," I assure her. "I was just thinking."

"Thinking about what? I've been trying to get your attention for a while now, and you would not respond."

"I was just looking at the sky. The stars are wondrous tonight, aren't they?" I ask, trying to avert her worries.

She rolls back onto her back and gazes up without an answer. She believes in tit-for-tat justification, so if I turn the topic, she will turn her shoulder. She was never one to pester, and tonight will be no different.

"There sure are a lot of red eyes out tonight," she notes without interest.

"Excuse me?"

"Planes. I am surprised there are so many of them at this hour," she clarifies.

Planes. Red eye flights, flashing lights. That was the trigger, but what was the memory?

ASIDE: If planes are the trigger, is happiness my ammunition?

Remembering the memory. Making a film on a camcorder. Recording light flashes bright red, blinding sight, changing wrong to right and day to night. Driving in the car after traffic light hours. Stop, look both ways, proceed with caution, sell your soul at an open auction, hear their distant repercussions to fasten your seat belt. It is a rough ride from here.

Flash, one. Flash, two. Flash, skip a few. Flash, ninety-nine, asleep.

ASIDE: Was this whole night real, or am I lost inside a dream?

to be continued...

- Alexander McCurdy


WritersChoices said...

a typo or are you getting clever? i wonder i wonder....

edukateyourself said...

apparently "The Alex Show" isn't on everyday. I'm glad it has come back :)

~hailing hails said...
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ALC said...
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