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Shipman" /><category term="Walking Through Illusion" /><category term="Travel tips." /><category term="public rudeness" /><category term="same-sex commercials" /><category term="Chicago Bears" /><category term="Giants" /><category term="Daredevil" /><category term="Salome" /><category term="search for extraterrestrial life" /><category term="Man-Thing" /><category term="oil spill solutions" /><category term="Blake Edwards" /><category term="exercise" /><category term="oil clean up efforts" /><category term="PARTNERS IN PERIL" /><category term="Doodles" /><category term="The Beatles" /><category term="reviews" /><category term="Rock the Quake" /><category term="Ovid" /><category term="New Way" /><category term="kill time" /><category term="San Diego Music Awards" /><category term="Angel Morn" /><category term="Chris Hemsworth" /><category term="John Lennon" /><category term="Kurt Busiek" /><category term="reggae" /><category term="Matt Cook Live" /><category term="Michael Bay" /><category term="Astra Kelly" /><category term="IMWAN" /><category term="Last Cease ill blog" /><category term="history of Sun Strike" /><category term="Underground" /><category term="African magic" /><category term="MyEBooks" /><category term="Gulf Coast spill" /><category term="instructional video" /><category term="Anger" /><category term="whales and mountains" /><category term="consciousness" /><category term="Patti Smith" /><category term="no-fly zone" /><category term="Danger Day" /><category term="Brazilian music" /><category term="&quot;Off Day&quot;" /><category term="Bama" /><category term="2011 NFL Championships" /><category term="Politics" /><category term="Rand Paul" /><category term="Spider-Man" /><category term="Phil Collins retires" /><category term="literary critique" /><category term="D C Comics" /><category term="Evan Quiring" /><category term="Cyclops" /><category term="Soda Bar" /><category term="Tijuana Coast" /><category term="My crazy wedding story" /><category term="comic book art" /><category term="Ordinary Magic" /><category term="oil skimmers" /><category term="Spidey" /><category term="Green Bay" /><category term="New Falcon" /><category term="Go Daddy Girls" /><category term="Israel Maldonado" /><category term="Robert Downey" /><category term="Black Angels" /><category term="&quot;the mountain&quot;" /><category term="pulmonary fibrosis" /><category term="A Trout in the Milk" /><category term="Art Walk 2010" /><category term="middle eastern democracy" /><category term="Endoxi" /><category term="Ditko" /><category term="Captain America" /><category term="Transmetamorphosis" /><category term="San Diego writers" /><category term="Osama Bin Laden" /><category term="Empire Strikes Back" /><category term="Stuart Hammeroff" /><category term="White Stripes Wednesday" /><category term="Ian Sokoliwski" /><category term="Little Essays Toward Truth" /><category term="Mardi Gras parade" /><category term="real life magick" /><title>Be chill Cease ill</title><subtitle type="html">Essays on creations, life lessons, and many original stories; also visit integr8dfix.blogspot for even more!</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ceaseill.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ceaseill.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/995210395573738136/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>cease ill</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16852602817305513997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8kYdmD_lMyU/S051V_0yXkI/AAAAAAAAAcw/tTAhx6M7wMc/S220/SDC12549.JPG" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>555</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/BeChillCeaseIll" /><feedburner:info uri="bechillceaseill" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0MMR38ycSp7ImA9WhFSFUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-995210395573738136.post-8329237164796255346</id><published>2013-06-18T06:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2013-06-18T06:18:06.199-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-06-18T06:18:06.199-07:00</app:edited><title>I'd Go Anywhere With You: So Very, Achingly Much</title><content type="html">Chapter Eleven&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Embarrassed, worried, angry, sentimental, and filled with pathos, Lewis King arrived at Gina Archer’s door.  Tersely, unable to keep locking eyes with his lovely girl, he asked would she please come for a walk with him.  He was not sure what he should say.  Should they break up?  Delay? Could they hash it all out?  Elope?  He honestly felt too restless to know.  What was he afraid of, exactly?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
At least, it was clear what he was mad about. Being mad became the gateway to all he feared, and if he followed that, this was the path to all SHE feared.  But she found she wasn’t so afraid. She just didn’t want him to hurt anymore.&lt;br /&gt;
What he wanted to fuss about was losing control over his life.   She knew that had been his only goal before she came along.  She listened very patiently.  It was hardly her fault her mother had interfered.  It was hardly her mom’s fault that things had tipped him over from the confident place from which he had dealt with everything so certainly.  But she listened patiently.  That was, after all, what he had done for her.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I know what I said I wanted out of life, and I was dead serious about it.”  It didn’t occur to him, he was simply over-dosing on over-serious.  What happened to his carefree demeanor?  Did he feel so trapped by the very decisions he’d made freely?  She really didn’t understand.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I know I picked you, too.  But I only picked you.  But how are we going to live this life?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I’m not making my decisions based on my family.  I only want to do whatever we want together.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Are you really ready for that?” he asked.  He was feeling guilt over the direction that had not worried him for himself, but which troubled him over her well-being.  “And why did I take things this far?  I love you.  But I just wanted to make you happy!  What am I trying to do here with you?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Maybe he was having second thoughts?  She had never meant for him to feel trapped.  She had only responded to the affection he gave to her.  Not one promise he offered did she drag out of him.  She had never tried to maneuver him into any of the beautiful things he had said.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I could leave on the next bus if I wanted to!” he said fiercely. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“If that’s what you need to do.  Fine.” She looked up at him sadly, as the first drizzle began to wet their faces.  “I won’t stand in your way.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What she simply couldn’t know was how much his family had tried to control his life, without any idea what he wanted, without much option or information about what was really out there.  It was, after all, what his grandfather had done…what his in-laws had done.  What someone had always tried to do, back to the days of slavery, and some dark where before.  Control someone.  It was the dark shadow stretching down to his every step to walk free, of what anyone else expected, of what society said, of what was cool, what made you rich, what authority did in its struggle with spirit.&lt;br /&gt;
He wanted to fight it with all of his being.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He raised his hand, as if to bring it down and hit her across the face.  She stood her ground and looked him in the eye.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Whatever you think you need to do.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Lewis looked into her eyes again, those hazelnut pots of honey and compassion, as the words of her beautiful voice offered him the key to his freedom.  If he had done all he was meant to do for her, nothing was stopping him.&lt;br /&gt;
He brought the hand down to her face…slowly.  He took her chin in his hand, lovingly.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In her face, he saw someone who believed in life and freedom, too.  In fact, he had shown her the way to free her own soul, without ever understanding how close to a living death she had come.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In her face, her pretty face, with those sensitive eyebrows, he saw someone willing to give him anything in her power to make him happy.  It was a reflection of what she had seen in him.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In her face, he saw someone, if he left her behind, from whom he would never be free, because she was meant to find freedom by his side.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And he loved her.  So very, very, achingly much.&lt;br /&gt;
It was her very willingness, her utter truthfulness, that she would set him free, that reminded him of the rather open-ended thing he’d said, about taking their love, day by day.&lt;br /&gt;
He could be free with her.  In fact, without her to share freedom, he might never be the same, now that he knew she was in this world.&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--7jmIgB5Tdo/UNWHt-ymFMI/AAAAAAAAJno/kZ0OJapSt88/s1600/Art+Walk+Little+Italy.jpg" imageanchor="1" &gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--7jmIgB5Tdo/UNWHt-ymFMI/AAAAAAAAJno/kZ0OJapSt88/s320/Art+Walk+Little+Italy.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In his kiss, he told her she had changed him forever.  In his kiss, he accepted this.&lt;br /&gt;
Now the rain began to insistently find its way from the sky, washing every blade of grass in refreshment.  Here at the island beside the intersection, holding the yield sign, not far from the park in her village, he took her carefully to the ground with him.  He held her tight, barely stopping to breath, taking kiss after kiss from her sexy lips.  He let an animal compulsion free, and found his way partly out of his clothes, and freed her the same way.  On the ground, they united, beneath the cool wetness all around them.  On the ground, by the side of the road, with no one around, they made love.  All worries, all reservations fell away.  The yield sign shook in a gentle wind, as she gave of herself to him.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Fortunately, the moment ended before they were both soaked to the bone.  He scooped her up as soon as she was ready, and began to dart back to her house for cover.  She laughed and obligingly helped him kick the latch up on the gate so they could proceed to the porch.  Smiling, he set her down at the door, where her father kindly let the two of them in.&lt;br /&gt;
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Chris was happy to keep the good times rolling, even if this visit wasn’t the same as the toy football games he’d played with Tim Bean and Lewis while Becky or Michele or some other near-paramour tagged along.  The only ruckus on aisle nine today was the obnoxious, if cute, French kissing that ensnarled Gina and Lewis, who virtually made love with their mouths as if there was nothing else in the world.  It’s not that they did this for show, or to be intentionally off-putting.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There was simply no one else there in the center of the universe.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GLTgPpGdpug/S09t9NneHYI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/oATBx77odss/s1600/DSCF1970.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GLTgPpGdpug/S09t9NneHYI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/oATBx77odss/s320/DSCF1970.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The next day, the rest of the world seemed to spin around that center, as they hit a patch of ice on the steepest curve of Riverside Drive.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Gina was at the wheel of her Topaz, with Lewis next to her on the passenger side.  The deep cold of the morning had captured the precipitation before dawn, right where it lay, in sheets.  She was doing the speed limit, driving normally, when suddenly the back end of the car began to fishtail around the curve.  Her mind instantly registered what was happening.  Skidding on the ice.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Early in the frosted shadows, no one else was coming in the other lane.  Rather than brake, Gina began to steer her wheel into the motion.  Lewis lightly squeezed her thigh as the entire car turned on the road.  “You’ve got this, baby,” he said, calmly.  He had no fear.  His life and hers was in Gina’s hands.  He knew she could be trusted.&lt;br /&gt;
The car spun around a complete three hundred sixty degrees along the curve at full speed.  As the Topaz lost a bit of its velocity to centrifugal force, Gina held steady while momentum slung the car around another half turn through an empty intersection.  One hundred and eighty degrees later, they pointed back the way they came, their speed now imparted over the full spin and a half.  The car rested.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The frozen morning had kept more than a few travelers inside, bundled up.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They drove into the next gravel parking lot they saw.  Invigorated by their razor’s glance with death, they leaned in for a passionate kiss. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Feel okay?” Lewis asked.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Feel great!  You?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Oh.  Yeah!  If we would have had to go out, at least we were together!”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I knew we were in danger,” she said, “but somehow I wasn’t worried at all.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Yes.  Good thinking, honey.  You handled it like a pro.”  He smiled widely.  “As you can see, I’m not the only one who can handle a precious life with care.  The whole time we went through it, I just knew I trusted you.”&lt;br /&gt;
What could’ve been a bad accident just turned into one more instance to show how well they could flow together---and how fortunate Lewis was to have found such a cool, level-headed woman.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
The news was about to break around the Archer household, too.  The change in Gina seemed positive enough; she made no secret of her excitement over Lewis.  Mom and Pop had maybe one chance to discuss it before they had their hard-working daughter to themselves a while.  They hadn’t put the change in context very much as yet, but she did seem like a new person.  She had always shown a certain determination all her own, with her individual exercise program, and never much taste for opening up about whatever had troubled her in recent times.  Her privacy was rightly her own, they reasoned.  Concern, however, was about to creep in, in a major way.&lt;br /&gt;
Darcy Archer asked her daughter to sit down a minute.   Point blank, she asked what was on her mind:&lt;br /&gt;
“So are you and Lewis talking about getting married?”&lt;br /&gt;
The question seemed completely out of the blue.  The relationship itself seemed every bit as sudden, admittedly.  The mysterious intuition of Darcy Archer had served her before.  Twice she had dreamed about relatives having babies; one of those times, the cousin had laughed it off, only to receive quite a shock at the doctor’s office two weeks later.  The time afterwards, Darcy had correctly guessed the baby’s gender, despite sonogram predictions to the contrary.  This wasn’t a dream-driven prediction.  It was a gut feeling.&lt;br /&gt;
“We are, Mama.”  There was no point in lying.  Gina was subtly impressed, just the same.  She had no real idea from where the guess came.&lt;br /&gt;
“I see.  Well, have you set a date?”&lt;br /&gt;
“We’ve just started talking about it.  I do know we both want Daddy to do the ceremony, just like I always wanted.”&lt;br /&gt;
“Well.  You love him?”&lt;br /&gt;
“I really do.  He’s like no other man I ever met.  He’s the most romantic thing on two legs, like the very spirit of the guys from the novels---at the end of the book, anyway.  He listens to me.  He’s caring and attentive.  He’s funny.  He’s smart.  He’s handsome.  I feel like he understands me.”&lt;br /&gt;
“You feel like he loves you?  And he’ll stay by you?”&lt;br /&gt;
“He’s got this amazing heart, Mama.  I know it’s so sudden, but---I know he will.”&lt;br /&gt;
“Alright.  Are you thinking about living with him?”&lt;br /&gt;
“We were saving up money to go to Colorado, so we didn’t really have any plans worked out yet.  We were playing it by ear.  I plan to stay here for now.”&lt;br /&gt;
“If you need us, you know we’ll always be here, honey.”&lt;br /&gt;
“I know, Mama.”&lt;br /&gt;
“If you’re looking for a date, you could always pick Hope’s birthday!”&lt;br /&gt;
“That’s a really nice idea!”&lt;br /&gt;
“It would be a wonderful way to commemorate the day.  Something new.”&lt;br /&gt;
Her deceased daughter’s birthday, she reasoned, would also give the two of them a few more weeks to get to know each other, and solidify their plans.  Most of all, though, it would be a romantic way to acknowledge the day.  She still missed her Hope very much.  Everything had changed for them when they lost her.  It would be nice to signify a new beginning.&lt;br /&gt;
The phone rang somewhat later, and Lewis spoke excitedly and sweetly as always on the other end.  He had talked with his sister, who groused about the month’s bills, and promised to put in an application with Stefan’s to help pitch in his share.  Gina said she’d be happy to give him a reference.&lt;br /&gt;
“I have to talk to you about setting a wedding date,” Lewis said.  It was rather old-fashioned, but on some level, he realized they could have a child at any time now from their sexual activity.  Besides that, they had already agreed to travel together.  “We were already planning to leave town, and I wanted to do something to reassure your family that I wasn’t going to just kidnap you, sorta, and dump you somewhere in another state.  I knew you wanted your Dad to do the ceremony, too, so might as well do it before we move away, right?”&lt;br /&gt;
“Sounds good to me, sweetheart.”&lt;br /&gt;
“Besides---we’ve already decided to it.  Why wait, I guess?”&lt;br /&gt;
It occurred to him a simple engagement would probably satisfy the family, but who knew when they’d be back this way?  For that matter, his own parents still had no idea.  It was getting time to deal.&lt;br /&gt;
“Oh, I agree!  It will be such a romantic thing.  I never really had big wedding plans…just for my brother to give me away and Dad to do the ceremony.  You know, my Mom guessed we were talking about this?”&lt;br /&gt;
“You’re kidding?  When?”&lt;br /&gt;
“This evening.  I have no idea why.  Hadn’t told them anything.”&lt;br /&gt;
“That’s wild!  She cool with it?”&lt;br /&gt;
“I think so!  It wouldn’t matter, anyway.  My mind is set on you.”  She paused.&lt;br /&gt;
“So what Mom suggested was, why don’t we do the ceremony on my sister Hope’s birthday?  The one who died when I was little?”&lt;br /&gt;
“Why wait that long?”&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yrE1hekaICE/UNWIcgSpw5I/AAAAAAAAJpk/Cvr3dVg8nR4/s1600/Mother+Me.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yrE1hekaICE/UNWIcgSpw5I/AAAAAAAAJpk/Cvr3dVg8nR4/s320/Mother+Me.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;“Well, it’s not a terrible idea.”&lt;br /&gt;
His voice sounded worried.  “But we were going to get moving soon.  I already intended to be gone by now, as it is.  Besides, I am running into a bit of hassle about the bills here.”  His voice escalated.  “Look, Gina, I know you’ve been a family girl all your life.  You never did anything without them.  But this is OUR life.  If you are going to let other people make the decisions for us, I need to know it’s like that for you, now.”&lt;br /&gt;
She had never heard him this irritated.  “But it’s only about three more months, honey…”&lt;br /&gt;
“Three months!  Fine.  But what are we going to do in the meanwhile?  This whole thing has been our decisions up til now.  It’s our life!  I don’t plan on sharing control of our life with other people.  Not your Mom…not mine…not anyone else!”&lt;br /&gt;
Gina’s Mom was standing nearby.  She could hear the irritation in his voice, and see the concern on Gina’s face.  Suddenly she felt very angry, herself.  Who did this guy think he was, shouting at her daughter?&lt;br /&gt;
“I’m serious, sweetie! I started down this road so I would be responsible for my own life.  If you aren’t ready to make decisions with me on your own, baby, maybe this is too big a decision for you, and you should just---!”&lt;br /&gt;
The phone was dead.  Lewis was livid.&lt;br /&gt;
On the other end, Gina howled.  Her mother had hung up on her boyfriend!  “Why did you do that?!?  He was upset…!”&lt;br /&gt;
“He needs to get a grip!” snapped Darcy.  “I don’t know why he thinks he can get away with treating you like that, but if you start---“&lt;br /&gt;
“Mama, no!  He never yells at me.  I could have gotten him to ---“&lt;br /&gt;
“If he gets in the habit of yelling at you now,” yelled Darcy to her daughter, “he’s going to treat you bad the rest of the time you’re together!  You can’t let a man do you that way!”&lt;br /&gt;
“He was just upset because he thought I was going to let you take control of the wedding, and he’s…”  Gina stopped.  She felt very much like crying.&lt;br /&gt;
The phone rang.  Darcy grabbed it for herself, to keep it away from her daughter.  “I’m not having him call back and be mean to you.  He needs to cool down!”&lt;br /&gt;
He’s not the only one, Gina thought.  She felt desperate as the phone rang unheeded.  No one had ever come between her and her man before!&lt;br /&gt;
“You know what?” snapped Gina.  “Fine!  I’m driving up there myself.  We need to talk.”&lt;br /&gt;
“It’s thirty miles, hon!” said her hot-tempered mother.  “And you’re upset yourself.  You don’t need to get behind the wheel of a car!”&lt;br /&gt;
“Suit yourself, Mama,” she said, taking the keys and heading for the door.  “I’ll walk the whole way, then.  Starting now.”&lt;br /&gt;
Gina had always been the most obedient of her children, by far.  In fact, Darcy couldn’t remember a time she had ever shouted at her---once, maybe when she was eleven?  It was scaring her, to see her daughter acting so impetuously.  What hold did this boy have over her baby?&lt;br /&gt;
“Is the sex that good?” she growled at Gina.&lt;br /&gt;
“Yes Mama,” said Gina, turning from the open door, “it’s THAT good!!!  She slammed the door crying.&lt;br /&gt;
By now, cool as a cucumber, her father Benjamin came strolling in, his face betraying only a bit of the concern he felt.  He fully expected the problem to be Dixie, as was more typical in the past, despite the fact…&lt;br /&gt;
“Was that Gina I heard shouting?” he asked sheepishly.&lt;br /&gt;
“You need to talk to your daughter,” she snarled.  “She’s lost her mind over that guy.”&lt;br /&gt;
“I hope she’s not driving anywhere,” he remarked as he walked to the door.&lt;br /&gt;
“She threatened to walk all the way to her boyfriend’s house, thirty miles away,” said Darcy, fuming with her arms crossed.  “And I fully expect her to really do it.  I could hear it in her voice.  She never, ever acts like this.”&lt;br /&gt;
“Well, good Lord,” he says, calmly.  “Let me.”&lt;br /&gt;
He brought his daughter in from the porch, and asked her to tell him what was wrong.&lt;br /&gt;
How was she feeling?  He put his arm around her shoulders as she sniffed.  His demeanor reminded her very much of Lewis.  They were alike in many important ways, the way they talked to people, cared, listened.   She noted to herself she had cried much too much of late, as if letting out feelings corked up for months, if not longer.  For one last time, she sat down, her tiny frame no burden at all, in her father’s lap, and held his neck while she released her misery, then quieted down as quickly as possible.  He realized just how small she had become.  It was one thing to see it gradually, but another all together to feel her sitting on his knees.  Maybe if she had opened up before?  It was hard sometimes, respecting the boundaries of their young daughters, letting them have their own lives.  He felt a natural urge to protect them from the world, but knew the time for such things was passing away.  He understood his tempestuous wife was feeling much the same.  Their tiff---such a stunning rarity, he had to laugh---was easy to forgive, from a witness point of view of someone who loved them both.&lt;br /&gt;
Gina finally got to call Lewis back.  At first, he didn’t want to answer now.  He was livid.  But he felt a softness towards his beautiful fiancée.  It wasn’t right to punish her, when they did truly need to talk.  He still felt the same about outside influences taking over their life together, when he had just made the step to live his own life.  Delaying that made the pressures and doubts creep up from below, where they had failed to make any real invasion of his conscious mind, until now.&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SSx227X0odY/TvNr1tE--2I/AAAAAAAAGjk/nTWyfYNaW3Q/s1600/sculpture%252C+Broadway.jpg" imageanchor="1" &gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SSx227X0odY/TvNr1tE--2I/AAAAAAAAGjk/nTWyfYNaW3Q/s320/sculpture%252C+Broadway.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
He found out quickly that Gina’s mother had been the one to disconnect the call, although this did not predispose him to see her point of view at first.  Gina begged him to understand she hadn’t hung up on him, and this smoothed out the churning feelings with which he wrestled in his solitude.  Still perturbed, but ready to talk, he agreed to come down, with his sister’s permission to borrow her car, and see her tonight, so they could be face-to-face.  “I need you,” Gina said sadly.  “Please.”&lt;br /&gt;
He couldn’t deny her.  He told her he loved her and let her go.  He felt himself grappling for control of his own destiny, wondering how the placidity he had achieved with only himself to answer for could ever return, with his love and life given equally now over to someone who lived at the center of her family’s embrace.  What had he asked her to do?  Why was this necessary? &lt;br /&gt;
For that matter, he felt bad about letting things get to him.  But now, a world of worries he had ignored began to mount.  They struggled with his buoyant ardor, as the seeming insanity of what he and Gina had begun to pummel his emotions.  He had instinctively defended their love and its sweeping impulses with poetic inspiration and an unsinkable feeling.  Suddenly, it was time to bail out the ship.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
His friends had to admit: they had always thought he was crazy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Wylie had seen him dive out of a moving car, rolling backwards and whacking his skull.  He’d seen him drink waaay too much, in one of their first opportunities to do so, at his parent’s house for New Years.  That night had ended up with him swallowing Wylie and Ed’s drinks, too, proving not much in the end, but leading to him wondering down the hall in leopard print skivvies, vomiting in a line.  He’d watched and joined Lewis in annoying band chaperones with vaguely obscene dances and suspicious chants, every Friday night of football season. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He’d laughed so many times at Lewis’s antics, his recycled punch lines and clowning that served no greater point than to stave off high school boredom.  They never really talked much of anything serious, other than to grouse about the common level of stupidity.  He had a lot more in common with Ed, actually.  They shared a degree of pessimism as well as a taste for classic rock.  Lewis had been the third Musketeer most of the past six years, but he had begun to grow off in his own direction.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Still, it fit the profile, this sudden engagement with a girl they’d never met.  Lewis was still crazy as a bug in a laser show.   &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ed had known Lewis a lot longer; he had been the only friend to visit him each year out in the country, where his excited manner and careless bad language embarrassed him in front of his grandmother, cousin and aunt, each summer.  They used to raid each other’s comic book boxes, gouging a hundred great, beat-up titles at a time.  They had gone to his father’s house, and later his mother’s, too, and went to their first rock concert together, and quite a few since.  They had gone out looking for girls countless times that just ended up with them talking and talking and joking and goofing off together instead.  Girls liked Ed, but he was much more shy than his irrepressible and sometimes awkward but funny friend. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The big news, as it sank in, made him a little uncomfortable.  He had moved in with his own girlfriend, Debbie, and &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zUsjK6Cn7Z0/UNV6VkGO10I/AAAAAAAAKNw/rKwfk518gB4/s1600/Our+Ba-Doom+Guidance+012.JPG" imageanchor="1" &gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zUsjK6Cn7Z0/UNV6VkGO10I/AAAAAAAAKNw/rKwfk518gB4/s320/Our+Ba-Doom+Guidance+012.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Wylie, not very long before, and no official engagement had been set.  He wondered how she would take the news.  At least, she kind of despised Lewis, thanks to a drunken argument with Philip, Wylie’s step brother, the first night they all hung out.  Actually, Philip was the only drunk one, but Lewis could’ve let it go.  Just as well.  Ed didn’t quite forgive Lewis for that time with the Debbie’s cash register codes.  His other friend Angel was more to blame, though.  He’d found Debbie’s codes, left behind on the floor on her second day, and Angel had chosen to give the codes to Lewis.  “She’s the daughter of a professor,” Angel explained in confidence, “and I love Ed, he’s my boy, but I really think you are more her type.”  His romantic thunder recovered soon enough.  All Lewis did was mysteriously drop off her codes when he went through her line and tell her to have a nice day…but.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Lewis mentioned his plans to go back to Colorado, where the three of them had such a wild time the summer before.  He told them he’d taken his inspiration from his trip.  The mountains they hiked, the people they met: he’d found a taste of freedom and adventure there, that never had left his mind.  Ed remembered another bitter fact, how, the night they’d spent in Aurora with his aunt, Lewis had went off with his cousin to do things he’d found disagreeable.  He’d played along with her new bad habits and stayed out with her all night.  Lewis told them about the half dozen girls they partied with.  He and Ed’s cousin had sat out on the back porch when they got home, instead of unlocking the door, and dozed off.  They had stayed with his mother, who now managed a high rise with her husband Derrick.  As a favor, he passed along her number, while Lewis traveled through Denver.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Well, man, I guess you know what you’re doing,” said Ed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I think you’ve lost your mind,” said Wylie, laughing, “but it’s your life!”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I know it sounds bananas, but she’s just this great girl,” replied Lewis from the couch.  “I guess she’s like a soul mate.  And here I was planning to leave, when this girl comes into my life.  Days later I ask her to come with me.  One thing leads to another.  I just trust her.  That’s all I know.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They weren’t willing to go the extra mile to ask if she was crazy, too.  They had looked out for one another in mind-altered circumstances, but this was a different class.  He had this intensity that had always made them a bit uncomfortable, which they weren’t entirely sure was egomania.  They were both quieter people with more reserve, except, sometimes, while partying.  Somehow, his story about the girl they remembered somewhat from high school at least convinced them of him being convinced.  He had taken her on without hesitation, the way only a crazy guy could.  They weren’t his parents.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
 Yet…on some level they wouldn’t discuss for some time, they could understand the desire to have someone bonded so closely.  Just the same, they were both issues from broken homes.  Their skepticism harkened back to experience.  There was little they could do to keep Lewis from crashing and burning, though.  Who knew?  Maybe it would work.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
 The Beatles were the subject over laundry a couple of days later.  Lewis had connected with them at age fourteen, when he discovered counter-culture.  “The Beatles were so cool, it didn’t matter if uncool people were into them, which is saying a lot,” he said.  “I don’t know if Elton John was ever really cool, but he was kind of coming back as an adult contemporary artist with a pop hit when I was a big fan. They were probably his most massive influence, too, along with a lot of black records, like the Beatles, and the Band, early on.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Vn50u2BWn94/Ubpid7O8ltI/AAAAAAAAKpA/S4RXIG4fWWc/s1600/occupy+sd+016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Vn50u2BWn94/Ubpid7O8ltI/AAAAAAAAKpA/S4RXIG4fWWc/s320/occupy+sd+016.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt; “I had outpatient surgery to remove a cyst from my eyelid when I was thirteen.  The two days I was home from school, I heard his songs on the Oldies Lunch Set on K-98.  After ‘Rocket Man,’ ‘Goodbye, Yellow Brick Road,’ and ‘Tiny Dancer,’ I was hooked!  I couldn’t believe one man sang all this great stuff.  There was more, too.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“The Beatles was what got me invested in song writing,” he admitted, with a huge load of clothes in a bag that he took into the apartment complex washateria not far from where he lived.  He had gotten into the habit of coming here while Ed, Wylie and Chris lived here as roommates.  Today this trip would put them close to the hospital where her grandmother Custer was recuperating, so they started laundry as part of a two-in-one trip.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
  “I had tried playing along with some Top 40 songs, and knew a little piano, but between Elton and the Beatles, I got into lyrics and melodies.  Well, actually Bernie Taupin wrote most of Elton’s lyrics.”&lt;br /&gt;
Gina started slotting quarters as Lewis continued enthusiastically.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“They had such a variety of song styles, although their straight-forward rock style that broke them in America is still classic.  It’s what they did with harmonies, for one.  And rock was really hungry for something fresh, with Buddy Holly gone, Elvis kinda neutralized by Colonel Tom and the army…”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He began stuffing the clothes in without any care, mashing the big pile down.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Even something like ‘Octopus’s Garden’ which was written as a Ringo Starr one-off had this special magic, you know,” he continued, blithely rhapsodizing about Beatles.  She knew they would wash better if they were separated piece at a time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“It’s all these touches they brought as an ensemble, too.  I wish I had a guitarist like George Harrison to work with!  I mean, that’s what makes ‘Garden’ such a cool if goofy hit.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She smiled and looked at her cool if goofy fiancé. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Oh, Darlin’” she began, as if to sing to him, “would you stop for a minute and pay attention?  I just realized something.  You just got on my nerves for the first time!”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I’m sorry, wha--?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Carelessly shoving everything into the washing machine in one huge pile,” she said.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Oh!  Well, I couldn’t really see any…”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“It just washes better if you put things in one at a time.  Like, if you have socks balled up in a shirt, or something.  Ha!” She felt relieved.  She put her hands on his chest.  “If you want to talk to me about the Beatles, would you mind if I took over?  Because I don’t mind, it’s just…”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Hahah!  Okay.  Sure…I’ll watch for that in the future,” he said, standing aside.  “You know, I don’t expect you to get that, just because you’re the woman, you know.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Oh, I know,” she said brightly.  “I was just watching you do that, with your mind somewhere else, and it just irritated me!”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Well, every disagreement should end so simply,” he said, smiling.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I’m sorry, heh heh!  It’s no biggie.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Oh, yeah, sorry I got on your nerves, Gina Belle.  But yeah, it was Lennon and McCartney’s basic facility with these masterful little songs, about all facets of love and some kind of surreal take-offs on lyrics, that were the basis for the band’s success.  All good players…great singing…but it’s the song itself that makes the difference.  And you see how their writing evolved, and how they more and more started writing by themselves…”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He didn’t stop enthusing over rock history.  He also didn’t bother to touch another article of clothing the rest of the time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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http://integr8dfix.blogspot.com/2013/06/a-comic-geeks-wedding-congratulations.html&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Two days later, the phone rang.  It was his dear college friend Von, wishing him a happy wedding.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Hey, what’s up?” Von started.  You could never have guessed English was his second language.  A steady diet of American and British programs, and liberal use around his home in Sri Lanka, had prepared him well for his American trip.  After his initial shyness led him to be dubbed “The Brown Recluse,” he never missed a chance to come to the drawing room or the bars and diners on the Strip and socialize.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“So Peter Parker’s found his Mary Jane?”&lt;br /&gt;
“She’s in my web, Von.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Well, don’t let her slip away,” he quipped.  “No bridge diving without a bungee!  Although I can understand a girl diving off the George Washington Bridge to get away from your diatribes.” &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Aw, get stuffed, Von.  She’s such a sweet, down-to-Earth chick.  I can’t wait for you to meet her.  We met last month.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Wait, are you doing this for a green card or something?” joked Von.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Yes, and I rushed the date before she notices they’re counterfeit dollars,” Lewis retorted.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“So Booster Gold needed to marry before he got deported back into the time stream,” rhapsodized Von, “and Blue Beetle bribed Queen Bee to tie the knot with him, with Batman officiating?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“And the whole thing takes place on the island of Kooey Kooey Kooey,” continued Lewis, “so they can have a casino wedding.  Until they ask for any objections, now or forever hold your peace, and Major Disaster shows up with a ring and a desperate plea!”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Last month.  Wow!  She must be really into you!”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“We were about to flee the country---I mean, travel across the country---and we decided to let her Dad officiate.  If she comes to her senses the next day, I figured you would fly around the Earth at super-speed and save us an annulment!”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“If you get near my neck of the woods, you should stop by Mallet,” Von offered.  “I’m moving out next month with a couple of friends, but you two will be welcome there, too!”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They continued bantering, with promises Von would spare Gina surprise attacks at the front door until they got to be friends.  Ten minutes after they said “let me let you go,” they finally hung up, as Lewis heard the apartment door open and his roommate slowly trudging up the steps.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
While we usually do naturalistic comic book art and portraits, we were more than happy to break out caricature and cartoons for Jovita's Graduation Party!  It was great, kicking off summertime in a great atmosphere, dazzling the cheerful crowd with our humble talents.  We loved sending people home with our unique cartoon keepsakes.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
rocketbadoom@gmail.com or integr8dsoul@gmail.com&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
is the hook up, if you want to invite us!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Our fees are very reasonable---and flat!           We sing and play, as well, if you want live musicians. &lt;a href="http://"&gt;https://sites.google.com/site/badoombadoombadoom/&lt;/a&gt; has just SOME of the songs we play, and we can add more with a little notice.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We had too much fun.  The guests sometimes made us laugh, as much as we made THEM laugh!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
On the spot, we were taking pieces of dialogue from our conversation to spice up the drawings with word balloons.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We did a few realistic portraits, as well.  We offered "silly or serious?"  Naturally, lots of people just said "whatever!"  Everyone was fun to talk with, and people kept coming out for cartoons late into the night.  We were invited to draw for three hours, but who could resist staying another hour, until the end?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We shot out about thirty drawings, kids, adults, and pairs.&lt;br /&gt;
We were invited in to have a wonderful dinner courtesy of Valentine's in Chula Vista, and cake.  We were asked to come in and join the dancing, too!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If only we'd gotten a picture of the one where we were asked to make the father Darth Vader, posed with his daughter.  We worked from a photo to get the absent daughter into the drawing.  Why he wanted to add a platypus, I don't know!  "I am your father," indeed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Patricia was kind enough not only to ask us to come, but even bought our supplies, as well as two yummy meals a piece.  WE can only hope next time she's got a party, we'll be there with Sharpies and grins.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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Chapter Five&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hDvlC9oDsG4/UbTzB3u2xAI/AAAAAAAAKlg/GrPGnSJ04Hs/s1600/jaunt+040.JPG" imageanchor="1" &gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hDvlC9oDsG4/UbTzB3u2xAI/AAAAAAAAKlg/GrPGnSJ04Hs/s320/jaunt+040.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The night had begun with Lewis taking Gina on an adventure, and now, she was taking him into one, in a very familiar, domestic setting.  Sure enough, her mother and father were sitting up, pleasantly surprised to have company.  Lewis had a cheery nature that enlivened the room, and friendly conversation between everyone ensued.  In fact, Hannah was still up, too, visiting with the boy she’d invited, Shannon.  She was glad she’d taken a chance; they were still just friends, but who knows?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
After he left, conversation roved for hours.   At one point, they were laughing about how phrases people use are taken for granted for their implicit meaning without anyone really picking them apart: what was a nook, what was a cranny?  Lewis had expected a much more gruff and burly individual when he’d heard Mr. Archer was a jail guard, but he was quite loquacious and broadly read.  He talked about history, outlooks on life, and his personal history with the Air Force and his radio disc jockey days, openly.  Mother had stories about all the girls, around whom her world revolved, when she wasn’t nose-deep in romance novels.  They invited Lewis to grab a bite from the kitchen, and make himself at home.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Once he asked about the pictures on the wall, everyone had a good laugh about their well-dressed selves posed smiling in family portraits: Ash, with his “am I really here in this thing?  Oh, brother…” look; Dixie, with hair teased into a life of its own, which had been reduced, she admitted laughingly, after a long argument with her mother, who often took issue with her tendencies to wear enough make-up to be Elvira, Mistress of the Dark.  Hannah was an adorable cherub, and Gina was a plump little thing smiling so hard her eyes nearly shut, beside her dad, with a bit more hair combed over than now in evidence.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Another picture on the wall showed a sweet little angel of about four or five, wearing a homemade crown.   “That was Gina’s crown,” Mother said.  “Her little sister Hope begged her to wear it just for that picture.”  He then learned briefly how they had lost the girl to a tragic accident at a family gathering, years before.  He shared their sorrow, amidst jovial banter that surrounded the moment on either side.  He thought of his own sister and his impending trip for the first time all night.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Finally, they talked about the portrait of the three sisters, all at the cusp of young womanhood, a gift they’d made for their parents for Christmas.  Dixie, hair teased again, was up front, Hannah standing proudly above, statuesque, and Gina, arms behind her back, wearing a necklace that ended with a tiny birdhouse.  The smile on her face was not quite a portrait sort of smile, almost as if the set of her mouth belonged to some anxious, distracted conversation the second before.  Half of her smile was ready, and the other half of her mouth wasn’t, like a smirk.  Beside the other sincere but practiced smiles she looked as though she knew something they didn’t.  There was something undeniably sexy about her quirky expression, he decided.&lt;br /&gt;
By three thirty in the morning, Lewis wondered if he and Gina would be left alone again tonight.  She seemed to enjoy the family parlay, snuggled next to him.  It was the most time everyone had spent together in quite some while, with almost the whole family working and going to school as they did.  Mother went to bed and told Lewis she had enjoyed meeting him.  She extended Dixie’s invitation, also.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Just before the first crack of dawn, everyone else had finally packed it in.  They had all enjoyed a new audience for their stories, and Gina had found out a few things about her new…friend?  She heard about his first year in college, on scholarship, and his community college classes he’d taken the year afterwards.  Why had he come back?  Why was he not already back in college?  Perhaps he had not found what he was looking for, had not found his place.  He’d said something about wanting to gain life experiences, but there was probably more to his story, as school also had its own life experiences.  It could be, she reasoned, his background and upbringing had not really prepared him for how to take advantage of college.  Perhaps there was a sense of self-discovery necessary before any of it could be meaningful.  She realized, even though she had wanted to attend college herself, it wasn’t clear just what for.&lt;br /&gt;
Maybe these motions that people were told to go through, by themselves, were not enough.  They had, after all, led her to try the same things others her age did, and none of it had left her satisfied.  In fact, beyond the confines of the family life and high school that she’d known, her optimism was largely buried, as one experiment after another left her feeling more empty, less valuable, less sure of her identity.  This crisis of being was only now beginning to crystallize, here with this lovely man with the flowing, curly locks, whose attention seemed the most honest gift in the world.  Something pushed her to begin to open up again, even though this had led her repeatedly to disappointment.  &lt;br /&gt;
But now that they were alone, she took strength from him, given freely.  She couldn’t have these feelings for him without telling him the truth about her pain.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
How the conversation began, she really wasn’t sure; it simply meandered from her lips, as he petted and hugged her. If every life was made of one’s own songs, then now she was finding the words to sing him her love song, and its verses of sadness.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“So I wanted to thank you for the flower again,” Gina told Lewis, while grasping his hand.  “I didn’t know how you intended it, but it really cheered me up.  Pink carnations are friendship flowers.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I could plainly see,” he responded, “you could use a friend lately.  It was my pleasure.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“How plainly?” she said, with a little laugh.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Well, if a person were to really look, it was there,” he said, with a smile.  “But I thought you were pretty cool, at any rate, and maybe you were someone who would appreciate a gesture like that.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I did,” she beamed.  “It’s sitting in a bottle filled with Sprite on my dresser.  We’ll see how long it lasts.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I never had that idea before,” he said.  “The Sprite.  Well, the flower, too.  No one ever gave me one, you know.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Haha, sure.”  She looked him in the eyes.  “I feel something I need to talk about.  I can’t seem to stop myself.  And I don’t know why I think you’d want to hear it.  But you know how sometimes you just don’t have anyone else to say things to?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Well, if it’s a murder confession,” he winked, “this is a good time to preface your confession with something like, ‘you want to hear a funny story?’ or some other disclaimer.  Not that they’ll ever get me to testify.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Ha, not quite,” she said.  “It’s just…I have strong feelings about honesty.  I feel I have to be completely honest from you, from the start…” She wondered just what did ‘from the start’ imply.  Was she putting too much on his shoulders, on this one kiss, this one night?  But maybe this time, rushing into things didn’t have to end in disaster.  She felt she could trust him with the nakedness of her soul.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She stared away into the darkness outside, and began to tell him about what she’d always felt, about finding love, about saving herself one day for her husband, how she had always at least tried to do the right thing, had even been a good Christian girl afraid to disappoint her parents and herself.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“My sense of order and right in the world really changed,” she said, “and it’s hard to explain why.  But eventually I found myself doing things that had never been me, before.  I thought I was opening myself to new things, but I …really ended up letting myself down.  I never found my way back.  And every time I thought I was finding some more hope, it ended up worse.”  She began to cry.  “And I didn’t want to bother anyone about it…I love my parents, but I just couldn’t talk to them about it, and I didn’t want to change the way they saw me, either.  And my sister had her own problems, and she would’ve been there for me, I know, but…it was all my fault.  And all I could do is just keep doing things to help out…to be responsible…even though my heart felt so empty, and my life felt so meaningless…I got into exercise, and did these dances in my room…Dixie used to be part of it, too, helped me figure out some yoga moves, for a while.  I started looking really different, you know, and I had so much hope!  I thought…thought what I was doing would make my life brighter, and maybe more exciting.  Maybe I would finally stop being invisible, or just a babysitter, or just the girl you called to work overtime.” &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“So I thought maybe the time had come to be a new person.  Maybe the things I counted on before weren’t really my own ideas after all.  Maybe now, I was ready to change.”&lt;br /&gt;
So, she told Lewis the story of how she’d been celebrating her friend’s wedding.  I guess she had always kind of used us before, like when we’d come over and clean her room with her, but then she’d come over and just flop down and talk to Mom and Dad while we had chores.  I didn’t hold it against her much.  But then…we were sitting on her bed…”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
(ahh...&lt;i&gt;wouldn't you like to read my book now.&lt;/i&gt;..;&lt;i&gt;-D&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
Chapter Nine&lt;br /&gt;
Literally the next day, things took a turn for the strange.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sure enough, their next liason was beautiful, passionate, spontaneous, and fulfilling.  Now that they had plucked this fruit together, there was little to stop them from exploring its tender textures, its savory flavors, and the freshness.    &lt;br /&gt;
Her reaction surprised him considerably.  Dismay might be a better word.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Gina shed a tear, taken aback by his strategic withdrawal. &lt;br /&gt;
Not unreasonable, he thought.  They’d never once discussed the very real possibility of starting a family with their first love.&lt;br /&gt;
He tried to explain, and she did understand, intellectually.  The truth was, the feeling of completion inside her had been the most satisfying thing ever in her memory.  Its absence was unexpected this time, and however irrational it seemed, she tried to reach for an explanation.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“It’s not…it’s not that you’re rejecting me, really,” she started.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Of course not, baby.”  He felt a bit dizzy.  Despite himself, he could actually feel how, from a certain point of view, their rush into everything was just short of insane!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“After what I’ve…experienced up til now,” she continued, “I guess…” She struggled to put it into words.  The last thing she wanted was to make Lewis feel bad about their times together.  “How can I put this?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Did you want to get pregnant?” he asked, softly.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Well, one day, yeah!” she said, sitting up.  “I’ve always wanted that, someday, with the man I love.  I definitely love you.  I feel I belong to you.”  She felt just a twinge of worry.  Had she crowded him in some way with her complete acceptance?  Had she misjudged?  She took a breath, and aimed for a more level headed approach.  He didn’t seem put off by what she’d said to this point.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“We don’t have to get pregnant now.  I don’t want you to feel like that was it, at all.”  She took his chin in her hand.  “What I did with you, I did because I love you!  It’s an act of love.  It’s about you and me, baby.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“That’s true for me, too,” he agreed, “though, you know as well as I, a natural consequence of sex without protection should be…you know…eventually, a child.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Okay.  How could they just talk about this without her seeming to be a crazy lady with no regard whatsoever for any issue from their love?  Their first kiss was last week.  How irrational was it, that she was ready for everything with him? One thing her parents’ perpetual struggles had shown her: it’s hard to really be ready for a kid.  Then again, it was hardly their fault that every single form of birth control had flopped.  Society called for a more reasonable response.  Then again, society didn’t think people who had known each other for three weeks had any business deciding to be together for life.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I can go on the pill for you,” she said, “if that is what you want.  It’s going to take a little while for it to start working.  After what we’ve done, I’m not sure I could ever use a condom!”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I’m sorry I never talked to you about it, myself,” he said.  “I’ve acted so impulsively.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“And I LOVE that about you!  I love that, in me.  I wish I could tell you why it bothered me, at all.  I…how do I put this?  I’m just human.  I felt a little bit like you might not want me.  But baby!  Don’t let that bother you!  I know you want me.  We both know the most potent sperm’s at the beginning, anyway.  And it’s not at all that I need that from you to feel loved.  It was just a feeling.  I don’t want it to stand between us in any way!” &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He sat back and laughed a little.  “I’m glad to hear it.  I suppose we could consider using condoms until your birth control started working.  Or we could…wait?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now they both laughed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It was hard to imagine a force on Earth that would make them wait, if they were both healthy!&lt;br /&gt;
The weirdness dissipated before long.  In fact, for good measure, they were at it again before she left for work.  This time, her poor underwear seemed to up and vanish.  It was just going to be one of those things she’d have to deal with tonight.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_3CCkmFFhfg/UbH8d_8Cs7I/AAAAAAAAKlA/SZI949AAUJM/s1600/jaunt+007.JPG" imageanchor="1" &gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_3CCkmFFhfg/UbH8d_8Cs7I/AAAAAAAAKlA/SZI949AAUJM/s320/jaunt+007.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
She hadn’t been gone very long when the phone rang.  Lewis was right beside it, thinking about calling up Ed to see if he or Wylie wanted to hang out.  They shared an apartment just two miles west, where he had often gone, before moving in with Ed’s girlfriend to a place big enough for all of them, just behind the very McDonald’s where he’d fed Gina the cheeseburger. He hadn’t really seen them since his birthday, except on the job he’d just quit the week before.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ring!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In fact, Ed’s girlfriend, who he had only met once, was the new server at Stefan’s.  He wondered if he was going to need to apply there, himself, to make some road money, rather than live out of his new girlfriend’s pocket.  Or…fiancée?  Wasn’t that more to the point, now?  Was there any doubt? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ring!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Marrying her as soon as possible, considering how they felt for each other, was even more understandable to him, in an old-fashioned sort of sense, if they were going to sleep together unprotected.  It irked him a little that he would feel that old-fashioned, if they weren’t simply going to wait…and besides, when had he planned for sure to legally marry?  It was just one more convention…but why let the phone just ring, ring, ring…&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Hello?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Hi, may I speak to Lewis, please?  Say…Lew, is that you?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Ah…it is.  You sound familiar…”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Do I?  Dude, this is April.  April Hilliard.  Do you remember me?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I…yeah!!!  Completely! Hey!  I never thought I’d…wow!”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The sensation of dizzy came back for the second time today.  This time, he felt a sunburst of feeling, a kind of joy…&lt;br /&gt;
…and…Gina.  The love of his life.  Wow.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I just came back to town, and I got your number,” April continued, giddily. “I’ve been doing some modeling…well, hand modeling, mostly…but I was in Cleveland when the urge to come home hit me in a biiig way!”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Heh!  I imagine that often happens in Cleveland.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Hahah!  You’re quick like always.  I really hope you don’t mind me just dropping in from out of the blue, but I asked around and decided to look you up.”  She paused.  “You mind if I admit something to you?  I never forgot you, Lewis.  You were one of the coolest people in the world, like the first truly cool person I think I ever knew.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Thanks, April.  I thought you were really cool, too.  I appreciated catching your notice.  I’m glad you remembered me.”  He wanted to be reassuring, to return some of this energy she was beaming his way.  He readily admitted, his exhilaration, any other time---a week ago, even---would’ve known no bounds.  Something like that.  He would’ve at least been thrilled to be remembered---honored to be her friend.  That still stood true, really.  She had been such a cutie…and the first girl to make him not just feel attractive, but the first to appreciate him as an artist, a mind and soul.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That book of his poems, modest though it was, was the first creative work he’d ever “published” for anyone outside his family.  He’d felt as though he were taking up a mantle of sorts.  She had enough soul to appreciate a thing like a simple book of poetry.  She’d had the most beautiful body of anyone who ever…&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I think, of anyone in this town, I would be really happy to see you, and talk with you again.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Wow…that’s…very cool,” he said, failing to sound completely nonplussed.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He remembered how very badly he had wanted her.  She probably never realized how close she’d come to being his very first.  That one night had enchanted him like nothing before…&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
…and now, nothing like that could happen, because he couldn’t just go out with her to see what would happen.  He’d just given his heart to someone loveable and true.  They had moved so fast…but he meant what he did and said with her.  She was too special to pretend otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I know I’m kind of dropping in out of nowhere,” she said.  “I wouldn’t be surprised if you were dating someone &lt;br /&gt;
amazing, but you were that rare friend who has such an incredible impact on the way you see the world…you know?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“That’s so flattering, April.  You really blew my doors off, too.  You made me feel like my inner life mattered.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“That’s what I’m trying to say…you’re so good with words, Lewis.”  She paused, still sounding very happy.  “I wonder what are you up to, these days?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Oh, how part of him, stirred by memories, remembered her in his arms, their special connection.  But Gina shined brightly even now in his mind.  If ever one day he would learn that love could exist between more than two people, such a thing seemed utterly impossible to him now.  Gina had become his wind and rain and sunshine itself.  Suddenly, in the presence this astounding little lady, he could see as clearly and definitely as ever, he now knew true love.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Doll, I was planning on bugging out, about a week ago,” he began.  “I had worked my two week notice and set my eyes on the road.  I bought a guitar this past summer, and I’ve been writing, too.  I wanted to be what no one else ever said I could be!”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“That’s what makes you so cool,” she beamed.  “You were the first person I knew who wasn’t afraid to be creative, as a way of life.  Not just an artistic person, but someone who ‘got it’ philosophically!  That really opened the world for me when I started meeting other artists, when I started modeling.   I got to meet some very cool people!”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I’m really happy for you!”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Thanks.  So I got really lucky even talking to you again, sounds like!”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I…feel pretty lucky, too,” he said.  Now, he had to tell her.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“So, anyway, I made this friend, lately, before I left…and when we finally got to spend some time together, something…so incredible happened.  Like nothing else before.  And so much has happened so fast…I just kissed her for the first time a week ago, but April…she totally won my heart…I asked her to go West with me, first.  Then we realized how deep the bond went.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“That’s great!” she said, with half the energy but all the same sincerity.  “So you just met someone special?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I wasn’t looking at all,” he said.  “I had turned my back on needing anyone else to affirm me, needing a girlfriend to feel good about myself.  I think I finally turned the corner on being truly comfortable with myself…truly being happy with my own company.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I always got the impression you had that in you,” she said. “I would’ve described you that way, anyway! “&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Well, I guess I did, some of the time, at least,” he said.  “But never to the point where I was ready to just strike out on my own.  I mean, going to college was like that, but then I would get hung up on a girl, and if it didn’t work out, I’d spend as long  being hung up on her as I had, going out with her.  Just a co-dependent mess!”  She laughed along with him.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“So, I just wanted to cheer this girl up,” he said, honestly.  “I thought I could do that and move on down the highway…just being selfless, gaining my strength from the task for its own sake, working and opening my eyes and heart to the song of life all around me.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“That’s just how I remember you,” said April.  “You just finally got around to seeing yourself as you truly were.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“You really warm my heart with that assessment.  It takes a lot of soul to see people that way.”  He  paused.  He had been truthful.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“You know, I realize I was lucky to even talk with you,” she began.  “I’ve got to admit…well, let’s put it like this.  You’re just too good a guy for me to regret calling you, and I didn’t know where you would be in life…actually, where ARE you, buddy?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“You know Juniper Street? Over in Riverside?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Oh, is that where you stay?  Sure I know!”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“That’s where I’ve been for six months.  That’s where I am this week, as it so happens.”&lt;br /&gt;
“Then, listen,” she said, summoning bravery in her voice.  “If it’s okay…I would still love to meet up with you.  What’s your girlfriend’s name?  I would like to meet her, too.  She’s got to be a pretty cool chick.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“She is,” he smiled.  “I think that would be fine. We call her Gina.”  What could’ve been.  Oh well!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Yeah, you driving?  I can meet up with you today or tomorrow, I don’t see why not.  I’ll see when Gina’s available…I’ll pick a time she’s not working.  I have nothing but great things to say about you.  I can hardly think of a better friend for her to meet,” he said, trying to mirror her maturity and magnanimous charm.  “I’m just lucky I was still around, so we could meet again!”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I feel the same.”  He thought of a time, and she recommended the Dairy Princess downtown.  &lt;br /&gt;
He listened to her tell a little about her career; though she was two years younger, her life, he had to admit, sounded a lot more interesting than his had been.  At least…until this week.  With the elephant in the room calmly snacking on its peanut now, he enjoyed every minute of their conversation. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
His infatuation with April hadn’t without merit.  Yet…&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
…she had her one shot with him.  Truthfully, at the time?  She just wasn’t ready to let go of someone else.  And these things happen.  Chances come and go.  He had even asked her, when he saw her again, would she marry him?  He realized his impulsiveness had emerged before, but never from such a self-assured place.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Always, he had been looking for someone to complete him.  First he needed to grow into a whole person, himself!&lt;br /&gt;
Because of what his talk with April had illuminated so brightly for him, Lewis didn’t hesitate to tell Gina that he wanted them all to meet.  He thought her good nature would allow for this generosity.  He believed in her to feel secure in trusting him.  He felt good about being above-board.  Because of her absolute honesty with him, he knew he could return the favor, and nothing need be taboo or buried between them.  That sense of limitless space combined with hope for a world of actions made the future he saw with her, a masterpiece.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Lewis took Gina for a walk beside the water in the park---a favorite date spot and contemplation point in one.  They walked to the end of the boat landing, beneath the low hanging limbs, and sat out on the tires tied together as bumpers for the boats.  She looked really great in yet another top gifted to her by Misty, lavender with a window opening on her chest at a diagonal.  “My skirt’s just perfect for sitting with my legs up on the end of a pier,” she burbled.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“So funny thing is,” he began, “this friend is the same one cousin Jack mentioned the other day.  “She had been friendly, so somehow I decided, on Field Day, to give her one of my copies of my book of poems.  There was one about Auschwitz, one about life as a spiral groove, one about passing time in traffic in chill mode, some funny ones.  I don’t even know what became of it, for sure.  I guess I was comfortable enough with the charge of pretension!  But she liked it.  She gave me her phone number a couple of days later, and I gave her mine.  Then she called me one day a couple of weeks after I graduated, and we met in the cocktail area of what is now Stefan’s.  Same place we danced, later, you and I.  We blew the joint after a little conversation, and went up to Clocktower Hill.  We got out for a walk to enjoy the view, and then it started raining, so we ducked back into my car.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He held her hand and looked off into the trees on the other bank.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“We started kissing…really good ones…and it was way more than I hoped for.  I thought we might just be on a friendly &lt;br /&gt;
excursion.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“You gotta watch that,” Gina joked.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Don’t I, though?  So we climbed over into the passenger seat, and let back the seat.  I am sorry I don’t remember what else we talked about, but…she was really really revved up.  As a red-blooded male, that was all I needed.  How could she know I was a virgin, too?  She lifted up her pink skirt, and pulled her panties down.  I thought I was going to explode.  I wanted her so bad!  I undid my pants, too.  I could see her naked body exposed, and I thought “well this is finally it!”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Then…she stopped.  She apologized.  She said something didn’t feel right, and it was her, not me.  Would I forgive her if we could just stop for now?  And she read me well enough to know I would give in and do that for her.  We just held each other while it rained, and she thanked me for caring enough about her feelings to understand.  I had no idea what I was understanding,” he chuckled, “but I was sure what was the right thing to do, anyway.  When the rain lifted, we kind of abruptly ended our date.  I mean, we had pretty much skipped to the end, under the best of circumstances, and who knew where to go from there?  I wondered, after she left, had I rushed too quickly into things…had I seemed too eager for too much?  But I was hardly alone.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“We talked a couple of more times on the phone.  She got back together with this guy she’d been seeing for like three years, was it?  And they had just broken up when school let out, I don’t know why.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I think it makes sense to me what happened,” Gina reassured him.  “If that was what she was going to do, anyway, it would’ve been a lot worse for you.  More baggage for her, too.  It really wasn’t to do with you, darling.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Well, I ran into her again…I don’t quite remember when, but I was single, and so was she, and she was living with someone right across from an aunt of mine.  This is what Jack talked about.  Logan was there, too.  Like a fool, I remembered what had happened, and affix all this significance to it.  I even asked her like, would she want to marry me someday?  Hahah---like you have to do that.   It’s pretty obvious where I wanted things to go again, huh?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I’m pretty sure she said no.”  Gina’s smile made him glad he had opened up so much.  It really didn’t seem like too big a deal, with the level of understanding they shared.  Funny how different things felt on the outside, in conversation, than they did bumping around in the dark, in his head.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Yah.  It was an amiable enough parting.  Maybe, if things hadn’t gone so far before, so quickly, I could’ve just, you know, asked her out again or something normal.  I guess these drives to …do certain things…and the values I was trying to honor…maybe they short-changed the honesty of my experiences.  You know what I mean?”&lt;br /&gt;
“Intimately,” she said, assuring him with her body language and tone.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Fortunately, she had the next day off, so meeting April was no problem.  He saw her parents drop her off---she didn’t have a car, apparently---and Gina and Lewis met them in the Dairy Princess parking lot.  Very nice people.  Not obviously the parents of a model.  Then again, April was a little short for the usual top tier of that profession, but unique in her look and cute as a button in her blond pony tail.   Her friendliness was rewarded and reciprocated.   A few minutes later, they’d all placed an order and sat down to chat in a booth, with Gina curled up unconsciously on Lewis’s arm.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They had a good time, talking about April’s career so far, the odd and talented people she’d met, and she was genuinely interested in the strange path into the unknown awaiting Lewis.  It seemed lit with more ideals than details, but that was hardly a surprise.  She promised him that those things took care of themselves, so long as a person stayed true.  Gina shared a little of their romance story, talked with her about babysitting, and quietly listened to the old friends’ exchange.  It was funny how well they clicked, because the realization hung there, April and Lewis didn’t really have very much history together.  For all the intensity of their one date, it had a kind of innocence about it.  Lewis had no idea, as yet, about the different kinds of love that could exist between broad-minded people---but that is another story altogether.  All he knew was, he had, however impulsively, made his choice.  He could see now, it carried some consequences, and from his perspective, closed some of the possibilities of which he’d barely been conscious, now.  &lt;br /&gt;
For all that, he felt no regrets about Gina.  He was very glad these two liked each other so well.  Maybe this time, they could keep touch?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
How could he know, when she climbed into her parents’ car an hour later…he’d never see her again. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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--&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://nwidget.networkedblogs.com/getnetworkwidget?bid=431684" type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BeChillCeaseIll/~4/THq4DVxZtoo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ceaseill.blogspot.com/feeds/451108419021941117/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=995210395573738136&amp;postID=451108419021941117&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/995210395573738136/posts/default/451108419021941117?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/995210395573738136/posts/default/451108419021941117?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BeChillCeaseIll/~3/THq4DVxZtoo/id-go-anywhere-with-you-no-regrets.html" title="I'd Go Anywhere With You : No Regrets!" /><author><name>cease ill</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16852602817305513997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8kYdmD_lMyU/S051V_0yXkI/AAAAAAAAAcw/tTAhx6M7wMc/S220/SDC12549.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_3CCkmFFhfg/UbH8d_8Cs7I/AAAAAAAAKlA/SZI949AAUJM/s72-c/jaunt+007.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ceaseill.blogspot.com/2013/06/id-go-anywhere-with-you-no-regrets.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0YCQ3o-cCp7ImA9WhFTF08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-995210395573738136.post-8554235205934783671</id><published>2013-06-08T14:57:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2013-06-08T15:06:02.458-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-06-08T15:06:02.458-07:00</app:edited><title>I'd Go Anywhere:  Um, it's reverse first, then forward</title><content type="html">&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Did I really forget to insert this into chapter three?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eMCVFYxz9rQ/UbOoQDi2rLI/AAAAAAAAKlQ/PwpJSb62-yg/s1600/jaunt+003.JPG" imageanchor="1" &gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eMCVFYxz9rQ/UbOoQDi2rLI/AAAAAAAAKlQ/PwpJSb62-yg/s320/jaunt+003.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The next afternoon, Lewis came by Stefan's, weary from his morning shift over the river at Gunther’s Crab Shack, where he had spent the morning preparing shrimp.  He took every shift he could get, so he could catch his part of the light bill and still squirrel away something for his trip.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He hoped to hang out with his sister for a little bit.  She treated him to some of her onion rings, and their conversation drifted to local bands.  She could see how tired he was, and knew he still had a couple miles’ walk to go.  She was rather proud of how he shouldered these things without complaint.  It was too bad their father wasn’t a bit more sure of car repairs, or the two of them would have his brakes repaired already.  She thought he’d be better off fixing it before he left, but she forgot to mention the suggestion.  On the other hand, since she was busy there until evening, she wanted to do him a favor.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Why don’t I let you borrow my Corsica?” she offered.  “Just drive back up here after you get some rest.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Denise, you are a gem,” he said, hugging her.  “That’s really nice.  If I had slept more last night I would…I can barely talk anymore.  Sure!  I’d do the same for you.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“You have, before,” she said.  “Just be careful and be back by five, okay?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Gina was returning some menus a few minutes later, when, beside the hostess stand, she heard a loud scraping noise and a bump out in the parking lot.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She took a look out the door.  Two of the cooks, Pete and Bud, were already walking from the kitchen entrance, where they had been taking out cans of trash to later convey to the dumpster.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Pretty soon, all seven of the Stefan’s employees on hand had assembled around the burgundy red Corsica.  Its front wheels were perched over the yellow parking stop, suspended above the place where the parking lot dropped away a few inches above a graded gravel area.  The chagrined driver was straining to get the car loose, to no avail.  The frame was wedged on the block.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Chuckles broke out beside the weary Lewis, who stood flabbergasted beside his sister’s car.  He wanted to laugh, too, but he saw the furious look on Denise’s face.  Dixie wanted to spare them both from gales of humiliating laughter, but their faces just made it twice as funny and she nearly wee'd her pants. Music still blared from the speakers inside, so he reached in and shut it off.  He had simply shifted into drive when he needed to reverse.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Gina smiled, and felt her depression wash away for the afternoon.  There was simply no way not to laugh about the helpless auto or its sheepish driver…if “driver” was the word for it.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She stepped over to his side, tray still absent-mindedly in hand.  She knew how it was to space out, though not after cranking the car.  She gave him an affectionate squeeze.  “Lord help him,” she purred, “he’s just a man!”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It was hard to say if this made him feel a little better and if that was enough to counter the further embarrassment.  No pothole outside Stefan’s was big enough for him to hide in.  He scowled while faced away, then smiled weakly at her after the hug.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
With a few minutes of rocking, Lewis and the cooks got the car off the parking stop.  There were a few scrapes on the under carriage.  The car ran fine without further incident.  Fortunately, this gave him a chance to drive away.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That night, Bud accidentally tipped a baked potato over the edge of a plate he prepared for Martin.  The fully-dressed spud hung there precariously.&lt;br /&gt;
“Hey,” said Pete, “look, it’s Denise’s car from this afternoon.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The cooks had a good laugh, and Gina, standing near by, smiled again at the entire memory.  Someone had to tell Martin about his girlfriend’s car and its cliffhanger episode.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0NXOIXN7bKY/UbEFCWgqEBI/AAAAAAAAKko/674cX4IfwW4/s1600/Beltainne+002.JPG" imageanchor="1" &gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0NXOIXN7bKY/UbEFCWgqEBI/AAAAAAAAKko/674cX4IfwW4/s320/Beltainne+002.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
When they drove over to his Uncle Logan’s two days later, Lewis wondered what she’d think of his dad’s side of the family.  He often visited his uncle while hanging out with Wylie and Ed.  Uncle Logan, his father’s younger brother, had been the one who took him and Denise for long walks when he’d visit, and shown Lewis his first karate kata.  He grew up thinking of Logan as the epitome of cool.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The roving bachelor had become the caretaker to Lewis’ three cousins by his Aunt Layla, who’d died crossing the road on a foggy Fourth of July night.  He’d just spent the day with Denise, Martin, and Cheryl, his girlfriend, at Six Flags, not long after they’d started going out.  She was the real reason he’d decided not to go back to the university, but that hadn’t saved their relationship.  The kids moved in with Logan later that year, with some help from Lewis’ dad, who often shouldered the fortunes of his wayward siblings.  Ryan, the oldest of Layla’s children who they often called simply “Bubba”, was legally blind and had certain learning disabilities, but was rather shrewd in his own fashion.  Jack was capable of sounding like a genius one minute and befuddling you the next.  Sister Morisa was gentle and shy, though she didn’t hesitate to yell to Jack to finish rinsing the dishes.  Logan gave them chores and kept them in new clothes and saw to it they made it to school and got medical attention, while working now at the local car wash.  He remained a perpetual teenager in his own way.  He’d enjoyed Lewis visiting with his friends and going for rides, rock music blaring.  He liked meeting the girls Lewis worked with, too, and inviting them to party.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He liked Gina.  She was coming out of her shell more now, with her winsome charm on display.  Blind Ryan heard a girl enter the duplex apartment and shuffled in to meet her and get one of the free hugs she doled out so readily, like the rest of her family.  He talked to her for a few minutes, then tried to parlay his blindness into an opportunity to feel her up.  She figured his game out quickly enough.  Couldn’t blame him for trying, really, she thought.  Logan encouraged him to leave her be, and sat them down in front of a Jackie Chan movie, talking through half of it.  He remembered Lewis had planned on leaving town.  He wasn’t sure how Gina fit into the picture.  She was befriending Morisa, who told her about her favorite doll in a painfully sweet way.  He figured Lewis would only bring over a girl who was “cool” so he invited them to the backyard to smoke a bowl by the creek.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Lewis wasn’t exactly sure where she fit in, either, and Gina avoided thinking about his plan to leave.   She was finally rewarded for living in the moment, as she’d tried to do before with mixed-to-poor results.  While Logan’s neighbor came over to talk, Lewis took Gina upstairs for a few moments’ privacy.  They laid back on a bare mattress in his uncle’s room; it was laundry day.&lt;br /&gt;
Without a lot of forethought, Lewis sat up on one arm and asked Gina, point blank:&lt;br /&gt;
“Gina…what would you think of going West with me when I leave?”&lt;br /&gt;
“Yes!” she replied instantly.  Her own lack of reservations would only startle her, later, as the consequences of such a move sank in when she was alone.  What would her family think?  There was just nothing else in her world but Lewis.  They kissed, and laughed, and he asked if she was sure.  He’d put forth no plan…no case for giving up the life she knew.  Without these or any promises at all, she simply agreed to leave with him, and soon.  For now, it was their secret---not by agreement.  It just..was.&lt;br /&gt;
Downstairs, after commenting on Chan’s leap onto a moving bus, Jack, with his thick sideburns and longish brown hair, began to talk about how Asian culture had become part of American culture after World War II.  “You think a lot of G.I.’s stationed in Japan brought home things they picked up from living over there?” he said.&lt;br /&gt;
“Yah, but Jackie Chan’s Chinese,” Logan pointed out, propping up his bare feet on the center table.&lt;br /&gt;
“I know that!” said Jack.  “I’m just saying something about history.  You know how big the Japanese army is, in modern times?”&lt;br /&gt;
“How big?”&lt;br /&gt;
“You know how many soldiers they have now?”&lt;br /&gt;
“How…big?” said Logan with a sigh.&lt;br /&gt;
“They don’t have one!” he said, smiling.  “Did you know that?  They agreed not to have one again after they surrendered to America.”  He loved military history and armies.  “A lot of people don’t know about that.  They don’t realize it, but China’s got one of the biggest armies in the world.”&lt;br /&gt;
“Shut up, Jack” said Morisa.&lt;br /&gt;
“Don’t tell me to shut up,” he snapped.&lt;br /&gt;
“Then please be quiet so Lewis and his girlfriend can watch the movie, then.”&lt;br /&gt;
“I just know Lewis likes to talk about smart things, too.  He’s almost as smart as me!”&lt;br /&gt;
“I keep trying,” Lewis said, with a half smile.  Gina hugged up to him, her head resting on his shoulder.  &lt;br /&gt;
“Hey, can I sit next to …what was your name?  Gina?” asked Ryan.&lt;br /&gt;
“They don’t have any room,” Morisa said.  She promptly sat down at her cousin’s other side.  Jack balanced on one arm of the couch, himself, and Logan asked Ryan to just sit next to him.  He instead wondered out to the back yard.  &lt;br /&gt;
“This is the prettiest girlfriend you ever had, Little Lewis,” said Jack.  He was a junior, so to distinguish him from his father, they called him Little Lewis.  &lt;br /&gt;
“Thank you, Jack.”  He had to admit…she was absolutely his girlfriend, at that.&lt;br /&gt;
“Of course,” Jack continued, “I don’t know if I met any of the rest of them.  Unless you were going out with that April girl who lived across from Aunt Celey.  Now she was pretty hot, huh?”&lt;br /&gt;
“I remember that girl,” said Logan.  He’d actually come on to her several times with no success.  She had a model’s face and long blond hair.  &lt;br /&gt;
“Uhm, yah, we went out one time,” said Lewis.  “She liked this book of poems I copied off and passed around at the end of my senior year, on Field Day.”&lt;br /&gt;
Logan asked if Ed and Wylie were doing anything these days, and Lewis realized his once-constant companions may have had no idea he was leaving town.  Much less, that he was taking a girl with him.  Ed’s mom Sandra was his only contact in Colorado, in Denver.  He would have to say hello.&lt;br /&gt;
“You really want to come with me?” he asked, as they pulled away from Logan’s.  “Wow.”&lt;br /&gt;
“I do,” she said.  “I knew you had these plans, anyway…”&lt;br /&gt;
“It’s only about halfway presentable as a ‘plan,’ I’ll admit,” he said.  “I really was going to take my meager savings and wing it.  You know, find work in the simplest way when I arrived, take whatever I could get.  Maybe depend on Salvation Army and the kindness of strangers, in exchange for whatever I could do in exchange, to stay above water.  I planned to take my guitar and a suitcase, basically.”&lt;br /&gt;
He stopped talking at the red light---her Topaz ran very smoothly, thanks to her father’s close care--- and looked her in the eyes.  Those lovely brown eyes, so full of care, beneath deep eyebrows that knit together with concentration, almost comically….now they were wide open, receptive, as he prepared for the green light.  “Are you really ready for that?”  Suddenly he felt just a little guilty about inviting her along.  “I can’t deny, it’s a great adventure, but it may not be easy at all.  It’s not that I want to talk you out of it, because I love your company.”  The light changed.&lt;br /&gt;
“I love your company, too,” she said, touching his hand on the gear shift.  “I have a little money saved, too.  Whatever’s mine, is yours.”&lt;br /&gt;
His heart warmed; a sense of comfort entered the middle of his being as he felt her small hand, with its child-like fingers.  “Thanks, darlin’.  I love you.”&lt;br /&gt;
“I love you, too.”&lt;br /&gt;
He scowled, concentrating with one raised eyebrow.  “I may need to do something to make a little more for the road.  I meant to be gone this week.  I wouldn’t feel right plucking you from your family nest with no way to fend for you.  I’ve always just walked in and gotten whatever job I found from talking to the manager, but I have no guarantees…”&lt;br /&gt;
“Baby,” she replied, “life has no guarantees.  My family taught me to fend for myself, and I’m a hard worker, too.  I never thought about this before, I admit, but…I love your company, too.  I think I would miss you more than anything now.”  She wondered if it was too much pressure to say, but she reassured herself, he had just invited her to come along.  Obviously, if he were true---and she tended to trust first until there was evidence otherwise, and in his case, trust was abundantly won---then he wanted her with him as much as she wanted to be with her.  “I would be more afraid of life without you, in a way, than any life with you.”&lt;br /&gt;
“I don’t necessarily have to go,” he said dubiously.  With her now to consider, too, he felt pained by selfishness.&lt;br /&gt;
“I won’t ask you to change your mind, Lewis,” she said, patting his shoulder.  “I thought it was a beautiful idea.  I won’t ask you to do this to yourself!  You know it was your heart’s desire.”&lt;br /&gt;
“I think…you are my heart’s desire, too.”&lt;br /&gt;
“Then my sweet man,” she said, kissing his cheek, “my Mom has this saying she made, about her and Dad, she used to tell us girls now and then.  She says you should be with the person you’d want to be with more in bad times than anyone else in good times.”&lt;br /&gt;
“That’s really wise,” he said, smiling.  Then he glanced to her again.  “And that’s how you feel about me.”&lt;br /&gt;
“Yes, I do.”&lt;br /&gt;
“It’s really sudden, you know.”&lt;br /&gt;
“Isn’t it, though?”&lt;br /&gt;
“This is by far the most exciting thing to happen to me, ever,” he said, with growing glee.  “I think I would be overjoyed to have you along.  I just feel I can trust you, with my very life!”  He met her eyes in the rear view mirror.  “You’re just so…good!  I believe in you.”  She looked demurely.&lt;br /&gt;
He drove on in a very comfortable, natural silence.&lt;br /&gt;
“I love you, Gina.”&lt;br /&gt;
“I love you, too, Lewis.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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She cried some more, and let him hold her.  She had no idea what he was thinking…only that he was listening.  He asked how long had passed between these things.  She could barely keep it straight, but she tried to tell him.  It was hard to look him in the eye.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
(Excerpted from Chapter Five.  I've got to leave something for you folks to buy!---Cease)&lt;a href="http://"&gt;http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=995210395573738136#editor/target=post;postID=1417792027091669763;onPublishedMenu=allposts;onClosedMenu=allposts;postNum=9;src=postname&lt;/a&gt;is where it all began.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“So I knew I hadn’t really been in love with those guys.  I had just hoped to share a loving experience, and maybe from there, something more could develop.  But I felt like a fool. I just kept getting used!”  He listened with a tightness in his stomach.  It was a surreal experience.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2IzRTmTs7VQ/UbEFXif_dvI/AAAAAAAAKkw/8DWp-vwIU7Q/s1600/Beltainne+003.JPG" imageanchor="1" &gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2IzRTmTs7VQ/UbEFXif_dvI/AAAAAAAAKkw/8DWp-vwIU7Q/s320/Beltainne+003.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
“Finally, there was this guy Richie who met me at work.  He came in with his uncle, dressed really nicely…he asked me for a date.  I took him up on it and he took me around to see his family’s different construction sites!  Some date!  But he suggested we keep seeing each other.  I gave him a chance with me, and hoped maybe this time things would be different, that he would really be my boyfriend.  My parents thought he was pretty together when they met.   But he had this pretend Mafia-thing going, just because he was Italian and macho.  In this case, he wanted someone who would jump when he called the shots; he wanted me to be ready on little notice to get dressed and meet him where he wanted, and was really bossy about it.  I couldn’t take too much of that.  I realized I was better off with no one, than to be under that guy’s thumb.” &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Her tears dried up, and she looked up at the cardinals that rested on the bare branches outside.  “I thought we’d have a chance, you know.  Maybe this time it would be love.  But every time I tried to be a big girl about all these things, I just got treated crappily.  I was just going to let go and keep my head down and work and keep my problems to myself from then on.  Funny thing is, when I met your roommate, we hit it off great as friends, and he used to tickle me and flirt with me.  But there wasn’t really anything there.  I had him down to the house one night to watch Jurassic Park after he said he was single, but there was no chemistry there.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m4rFT93Vt58/UbEBs3wEgNI/AAAAAAAAKkY/Elvnavdn2oE/s1600/Kaya+018.JPG" imageanchor="1" &gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m4rFT93Vt58/UbEBs3wEgNI/AAAAAAAAKkY/Elvnavdn2oE/s320/Kaya+018.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Lewis picked up her chin and looked her in the eyes for a minute.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I really don’t know what you think of me, now,” she said, “but I had to get it all off of my chest.  I felt like I betrayed who I used to be and can’t go back to that…but I don’t know how to go on without breaking my heart again.  And I never realized how empty I would feel from giving myself to find love.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Look, I don’t think anything bad of you,” he replied, stroking her chin as the sun rose.  “I didn’t find love, exactly, either.  It seems like I could never get sex and romance together, and romance always burned out for some reason or another…just bit the dust in depression.  I eventually learned to take better care of myself.  But what I did wasn’t really so different from you, and what you did…is just part of life.  It’s part of the process of trying to find love…trying to discover yourself.  Once you believed in the rules, and when you broke them, you found there was no going back.  I’ve been there.  But you mustn’t blame yourself.  These experiences are just part of life.  You have to believe that.  You can’t be so hard on yourself for your disappointments.  You weren’t trying to hurt anyone when you got hurt.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She sniffled and hugged him.  Then, she kissed him.  She managed a bare smile for him, for his kindness.  “It means a lot to have you listen, Lewis.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“You know,” he said, “I’m not really sure where this friendship of ours is going.  I know I really like you and feel like you’re this really great person inside.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Thank you.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Here’s what I believe we should do,” he said, taking her up in his arms again, then holding her out at arm’s length there on the couch.  “Let’s just take things one day at a time.  Day by day, let’s see how we feel, and let’s always do things that way.  Let’s see how we feel on each day, and feel free to act on how we feel, based on the present.  If there’s something more, it won’t need to survive on a promise from before.  Oh, that rhymed!  Heh.  It will come to life based on a real feeling, then and there.  I won’t lie to you.  I certainly don’t know exactly where I’m headed next, but I have to tell you I’m really glad we met.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Me, too.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“We’ll always have this wonderful night we shared, walking, talking, me meeting your family.  I really felt a part of something.  And you were really brave to open up like that.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Most people just play so many games at first,” she said.  “I didn’t want anything from my past to hurt whatever might be, one day.  I don’t feel so alone anymore, anyway, and I have you to thank for that.  I know you have to do whatever you have to do now…”  She remembered he was, after all, planning to leave town when they first met.  Had it just been a couple of weeks ago?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I guess whatever I have to do next is go pee,” he admitted, “and while I can go home and sleep after y’all drop me off, I know you will need some rest before work today.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Oh, I’ll manage,” she said.  “I’ll sleep better now than I probably have in a very long time.  I only have to work lunch.  Heh, here, let me show you to the bathroom down the hallway.  Got to warn you, it can be a real disaster area with all of us living here.  It can be a housekeeping victim.  Worse than the kitchen.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Well, not to worry, I’m not here inspecting for the health department.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When he was alone, he noticed he’d gotten a little excited, sitting here alone listening to this woman.  He thought briefly about how he didn’t want to simply take advantage of her.  How many women waited down the road, that needed a friend, a kiss, a little kindness?  He relished the strange adventures he’d experienced since moving out from his parents, since he’d begun driving, the places he’d awakened, the people he’d met.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But there was something so sweet and gentle about Gina…her fragility attracted him.  Whether or not it would bring out the best in him was really for him to consciously decide.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When he came out, he sat back beside her on the couch, and held her hand again.  “Say, Gina…if you’re not busy after work…why don’t you come over to the apartment to visit with me?  If you want, we can go for another walk or something.  I liked talking with you.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I don’t see why not,” she replied.  “Okay, I’ll come over about two, maybe a little later if it’s very busy.  We’ll be up to give you a ride in a couple of hours, basically.  Let me get you a blanket from the closet.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Aw, righteous,” he acceded.  “I guess this is a good time for you to sneak off to your room.  I don’t want to make things too weird here in the living room, if your parents get up.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Hahah, well, they trust us implicitly,” she said, rolling out a comforter to drape over him.  “We’ve had friends stay over before.  Not anybody I kissed though.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I’ll take your word,” Lewis said, yawning.  He laughed with her when he heard a huge snore come out of her parents’ room, next to the living room.  “Sleep tight, pumpkin.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“You too, handsome,” she said.  She lingered at the hallway frame and gave him a tiny wave.  Before her eyes ever closed, she felt like she was dreaming.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
Lyrics, Cecil Disharoon  Music Cecil Disharoon          Performed by Soul Ba-Doom Ba-Doom&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I almost died, just thinking about what could've been, should've been, way back when&lt;br /&gt;
Now if I should mention my problems, I just turn around and face'm all with a grin&lt;br /&gt;
Now I've got falling in love on my mind&lt;br /&gt;
It's something that I only recommend with a friend&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You can't do it with doubt, or it's lights out&lt;br /&gt;
Even in the dark, love'll win in the end----it's going to win in the end&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Oh, love, starts with trust, or ends in bust&lt;br /&gt;
There's no way to escape this&lt;br /&gt;
Turn out the lights, the last one out&lt;br /&gt;
Just no way you can ape this&lt;br /&gt;
Oh, you can be free          you can change along with me&lt;br /&gt;
You can be part of the evolution, Look in your heart, it's the one solution&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Go Bananans, Throw Bananas, slip on appeal&lt;br /&gt;
Better for you to hang on to what you know is real!&lt;br /&gt;
What you can mimic, it's still just a gimmick&lt;br /&gt;
Only fit for what you steal&lt;br /&gt;
Walk from the slime and get back to the rhyme&lt;br /&gt;
Resolution of the way you feel, oh!!!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Baby, catch on, baby catch on, to some evolution.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
copyright 2013 Cecil Disharoon jr./ Wingbat tunes&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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tidbits from chapter six:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xaj1EAntD74/Ua8htS6QWGI/AAAAAAAAKkI/Ibn1MzFJFfk/s1600/waiting+for+Kaya+by+the+window+Nov+006.JPG" imageanchor="1" &gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xaj1EAntD74/Ua8htS6QWGI/AAAAAAAAKkI/Ibn1MzFJFfk/s320/waiting+for+Kaya+by+the+window+Nov+006.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The next day, she came back to visit again.  This time, they got in a walk through the neighborhood; he considered taking her to see his Grandpa and aunt.  Would he introduce her as his girlfriend?  He wondered, but didn’t say aloud, just how to resolve this situation.  His money to travel would be depleted quickly and he really should pay his share of the month’s bills if he stayed around.  Being with Gina, however, seemed as natural as breathing.  What could he say to someone who had never really spent a night away from home?  She seemed to be the core of her family.  But what did she think of her life here?  He knew he should ask.  Ask…what?  First they had to beat the rain back to the apartment.  They laughed and out-ran the downpour, which chased them inside.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This time, when she got back to his apartment, they did end up in his room.  She saw the stacks of comic books he’d just neatly sorted away, after picking over his collection for candidates to help finance his trip.  He played her the simple song he’d written for her, and another he’d written.  As the rain lightened up in the cloud-covered sky outside, they sat on his bed, feeling the chemistry between them.  They kissed a long time, savoring the taste of each other’s mouths, the longing in each other’s eyes.  She had already made up her mind, if he had her, she would not regret this man, this time.  If all they could have was a few beautiful days together, he had won a fond place in her memories, to stay.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
********************************************************************************Mmm, some snuggly wuggly, then***&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He wasn’t sure of the perfect thing to say.  What needed saying?  The dim light caught her face, shining from within, full of love at his acceptance, satisfied deeply by his gift.  Gina showered him with kisses, starting with his hand, which she held to her forehead, holding her own head at such a beautiful, humble angle that she seemed a nymph freshly risen from a spring.  He then gave her one of his own shirts, more dry than her own, and took a clean one out for himself, too.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The rain had finally stopped.  She offered to take him to McDonald’s, which he thought sounded perfectly romantic.  When they sat down in a corner, over a Quarter Pounder with cheese and fries, he ate the pickles, and then shared each bite of the burger with her, from his own mouth.  She chewed the bites with her eyes closed, as he stroked her face.  It was so good to see her appetite returning.  If he could give her nothing else, she wanted to live again.  That was all he ever wanted to give anyone.  He knew how it felt to not know how to feel like going on.  From everything he’d heard, she’d given so much.  A funny, bright, devoted woman lived inside her broken heart, and a great sunshine waited behind the clouds of her mind.  He was glad he’d stayed long enough for the clouds to clear.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BeChillCeaseIll/~4/_clEZkhaBBM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ceaseill.blogspot.com/feeds/2026866003243810383/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=995210395573738136&amp;postID=2026866003243810383&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/995210395573738136/posts/default/2026866003243810383?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/995210395573738136/posts/default/2026866003243810383?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BeChillCeaseIll/~3/_clEZkhaBBM/id-go-anywhere-with-you-after-rain.html" title="I'd Go Anywhere With You:  After the Rain ( a brief tidbit)" /><author><name>cease ill</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16852602817305513997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8kYdmD_lMyU/S051V_0yXkI/AAAAAAAAAcw/tTAhx6M7wMc/S220/SDC12549.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xaj1EAntD74/Ua8htS6QWGI/AAAAAAAAKkI/Ibn1MzFJFfk/s72-c/waiting+for+Kaya+by+the+window+Nov+006.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ceaseill.blogspot.com/2013/06/id-go-anywhere-with-you-after-rain.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck8FR38zfSp7ImA9WhFTEko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-995210395573738136.post-1625124064556582174</id><published>2013-06-03T07:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2013-06-03T07:46:56.185-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-06-03T07:46:56.185-07:00</app:edited><title>I'd Go Anywhere With You : Looking for a Sign</title><content type="html">She barely noticed when the song ended.  If she hadn’t been at work, still, she may not have thought to let him go.  Of course, she was off the clock, now.&lt;br /&gt;
“Would you like to talk?” he asked, sipping his beer.  “Go for a walk?”&lt;br /&gt;
“My sister should be here any minute,” she replied.  The door to Stefan’s opened at that moment with Dixie, jangling her keys.  “Hey, Lewis!” she said brightly.  By now he had broken contact with Gina, but they stood close.  “I thought you might be about ready.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Actually,” he said, clearing his throat, “I didn’t know the plan, so I had just invited her to go around the block and chat for a bit.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Just as he was about to invite Dixie along, too, Dixie smiled and waved them off.  “Sure, knock yourselves out!  I’ll just have a beer and talk with everybody ‘till you get back.  Gina can drive us home.  Sound like a winner?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Uh-huh,” agreed Gina.  She picked her jacket off the peg, and he held the pine door open to reveal the clear night sky.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I’ll bring her back in one piece,” joked Lewis.  Gina smiled as they descended the steps into the parking lot.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Ever been over to the lighted bridge?” he asked.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I’ve seen it out the window, so many nights at work,” she replied, “but no one’s ever taken me.   It’s really pretty, but we drive the other way home. How far is it?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Once we get around the block and cross Shorter,” he responded, “it’s really just up the bank, behind that old general store building.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He asked her how her shift went, and how often she came to town for fun.  He remarked on the moon, the crisp wind, and how much he’d enjoyed visiting downtown since he was a boy.  “I used to come down here to get comic books with my weekly work money from Mom and Dad’s restaurant,” he said.  “Clocktower Hill’s that way…you can see all of town from there.  I picnicked with some friends up there, listening to Queen and joking around.  I used to go up there to, you know, muse, listen to the radio, eat a taco, read.   And down that way is Schroeder’s…we used to hang out over there when we had extracurricular  events, especially Mock Trial.  I had a blast playing a witness.  We finished third in state!”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I didn’t do a lot of after school stuff, except for chorus,” she responded.  “We made flag core and even the soft ball team once, just to show my brother we could do it!”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Yeah, it’s been interesting,” he replied, “dealing with the world outside of that framework.  I know for some people those are the best years of their life.  I hope for me it’s just getting started.  I think I’m happier with who I am now, even if it’s hard to imagine what’s to come.”  She thought for a minute about his impending trip, but said nothing. She let go of that, to savor the moment.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Feels like there’s all these possibilities that lie ahead, ways of thinking of ourselves that we never saw before.  There’s so much I want to explore,” he said.   “How about you?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I know what you mean,“ she said.  “With our whole lives ahead of us, it just feels like I work all the time as a placeholder until some bigger idea comes up.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
His thirst for the unknown already separated him from the few guys she’d been out with.  His voice seemed alive enough for both of them.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Here’s where it gets a bit steep,” he said, remembering the one other date ---the Black Widow, she’d called herself, because she had already buried a husband and a boyfriend.  She hadn’t really been ready to move on after that, as he discovered quickly.  He thought of a way to make the night special for Gina.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Here,” he offered, stooping down.  “The best way to get up this bank is take me, piggy back.  Is that okay?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Hee hee, I guess so,” she beamed.  She clambered trustingly on to his back.  “At your service,” he said in a posh British accent.  Her tiny legs were easily secured at his sides. She was almost weightless for him.  She let out a surprised whoop as he took off, quickly.  He bore down at an angle and walked with a wide stance.  While she laughed, Lewis carried her up the hill.  When had anyone done that with her since her Daddy, years ago?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Beside naked trees, they reached the path up top, and crossed the steel suspension bridge of lights.  They shown incandescently, hundreds of bulbs arranged in pictures, such as the American Flag, or at the holidays, boughs of holly and ribbons.  They crossed the river as the night wind blew.  A solitary car now and then crossed the bridge close to Stefan’s, whose windows lay just inscrutably within sight from this second bridge. When he set her back down, her hand easily, naturally fell into his.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-53q8W5dC87c/Uayp5oD1t9I/AAAAAAAAKjo/uOIrfyFxlE8/s1600/bridge,+Rome.jpg" imageanchor="1" &gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-53q8W5dC87c/Uayp5oD1t9I/AAAAAAAAKjo/uOIrfyFxlE8/s320/bridge,+Rome.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
By his side, her work place across the street seemed a quaint world away.  She had never seen the romance of the location, for all the times she had clocked in and worked alongside her siblings…for all the love affair misfires that originated there.  Not one thought of those things lingered a second, however.  For once, she felt free from her life, as though any direction were hers for the choosing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
After staring up at the night sky and walking the length of the bridge slowly, he pointed to a gazebo, painted white, beside the river where it ran beneath both bridges from the levee.  “How about a seat?” he asked.  “If we’ve got time?”&lt;br /&gt;
She nodded and enjoyed the near-silence with him on the wooden benches within the gazebo.  “This place is great during Fall Festival,” he said.  “Kids, crafts.  Nice little family day.  Should always be a place for those things.  They make a community.”  They went back to holding hands, quietly, feeling each other’s presence with complete comfort, just as they had that day on his couch.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They looked up in the direction of the moonlit river, aware they were not alone.  The figure shambling their way said hello in a friendly tone, and remarked what a nice night it was to enjoy the park.  They agreed.  He began to hold court there, telling how he lived over in the south part of town near the cemetery, and how he planned to spend the night walking.  “Actually,” he said, “my wife locked me out for being too drunk!  But she knows when I’m ready to come home, I’ll sleep it off there.  Are you two married?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Not yet!” said Lewis. Gina laughed and reaffirmed her grip on his palm.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Well, it’s a fine thing, being married,” he remarked.  “It’s good to have someone who understands you, whatever you do.  I know I get her riled up, being so restless at times, but she’s been a good woman to me.”  They agreed that was wonderful.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“So, I tell you what,” he said, leaning in.  Now they could plainly see he was a one-eyed man, and his face became earnest as he confessed.  “I would sure like to go back to the liquor store for one more, before I walk it off and go home.  I’ll be honest with you about that.  So would you help me out, if can?”  Lewis told him he’d enjoyed his story, and produced a single dollar for the man, who wished them well.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Better hold on to that one,” he said, nodding to Gina.  “Y’all’s a lovely couple.”  He was on his way.  The two snuggled up close as the wind blew, and shared a little laugh before resuming their trek.&lt;br /&gt;
On the way down Broad Street, they took a short cut through an archway, decorated in bronze letters. Opera Alley had a plaque explaining its original purpose, as an additional dressing space for the early theater there.  Still holding hands, they stepped within its now indecorous passageway, on the path back to Stefan’s.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zAmW2CsawSI/Uaypmf09SlI/AAAAAAAAKjg/jSGKkYejxng/s1600/opera+alley.jpg" imageanchor="1" &gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zAmW2CsawSI/Uaypmf09SlI/AAAAAAAAKjg/jSGKkYejxng/s320/opera+alley.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Halfway down Opera Alley---where the thespians changed costumes off-stage, to await their cues---Lewis stopped Gina.  He had shown her a pretty nice time.  It had been a simple matter of friends, hadn’t it?  But something irresistible held him in place, now, an impulse which felt so natural, yet, logically, deserved questioning.  He looked above her, as to the stars, with that query drifting in his eyes.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“What are you looking for?” she asked softly, expecting some other wonder on their tour.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“A sign,” he quietly replied.  She looked up, too.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Her eyes, gazing skyward, her uplifted chin, the innocence of her face, the haunted sadness of her lips, the mouth pulled open by her motion, drew him close to her.  He found no resistance as he gave her that first kiss.  She responded warmly.  In fact, she deepened it a little, as the honey taste of his mouth and the soothing touch of his lips heated her entire frame this mid-winter night.  Their tongues touched in a dazzling mini-nova of pure feeling that brightened their inner voids, an event horizon of their universes sharing quantum space.&lt;br /&gt;
Now she looked into his spiritual eyes, and smiled without shame, as her arms wrapped around his head.  As she breathed out deeply, he took her lips one more time, lightly.  Within herself, she knew.  When she had looked upwards for a sign, she had honestly been looking for a physical sign…maybe some vintage old store’s arrow, or a further tribute to the stage of old.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A smattering of artificial flowers decorated the far end of the alleyway.&lt;br /&gt;
They lay by the dumpster, as if thrown away carelessly.  Inspired to lighten the mood, Lewis reached down into them, and chose one.  He bent its pin outward, and nestled it carefully upon her coat.  She smiled as he reached for another, and helped him pin it on his, too.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“We reverently wear these flowers,” he intoned jovially, “in honor of our kamikaze grandmothers, who flew their flights bravely!   How it is they came home to start families after kamikaze flights is a story lost to history.  Yet their courage shall never be forgotten!”&lt;br /&gt;
By the time they reached Stefan’s, Dixie had already stepped out the door for a smoke, and waved.  “Well, call off the search party!” she chuckled, ashing.  “You kids have a good time?”  She was confident in asking, as she could tell by their clasped hands, grins and…were those flowers?  She felt delight in her heart for her kid sister.  They shared the joke in alternating sentences, and related their odyssey.  She took out her keys to unlock the Topaz, and invited Lewis to sit with them.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“She can drive us on home in a minute, if you’ve got places to be,” she offered.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Oh, this is great, Dixie, thanks!  Actually, I have been looking forward to talking to you, too.  Denise and Martin seem to think so fondly of you, and you always seem to be having a ball in your own way!”&lt;br /&gt;
She thanked him brightly, and finished her cigarette with the window rolled down after clicking on the car radio quietly.  She shared a little about their lives and found a philosophical and humorous kinship with Lewis quickly; they “clicked” as friends instantly.  Twenty minutes later, she was sharing her abiding affection for science fiction books, and dug into a seminal favorite she’d just re-visited recently,   Stranger in a Strange Land.  She mentioned Heinlein’s unconventional Martian, Michael Valentine, and recommended it as a blasting-off point to 1960’s counterculture, for which Lewis expressed a fondness from adolescence.  However short sighted the hippies may have personally been, there was definitely a desire for love, openness, and a questioning of authority that they agreed was necessary.  It was less sincere individuals and impractical approaches to material concerns that made the youth movement fizzle.   She had just begun to describe Heinlein’s unusual approach to polyamory when she became excited by the book she’d just finished.  She began to narrate the travails of Job, a dimensionally-displaced minister who tries through twists and turns to reach his beloved wife.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I think as the daughter of a former preacher who adores Heinlein, it was bound to be a natural fit,” she said, gesticulating excitedly.  “You really appreciate the sense of humor of this guy, who keeps taking dish washing jobs to earn money in each alternative version of America he’s dropped into, because every time he needs completely new currency, and he never knows when he’s going to get shoved into the next alternative timeline!  But he never gives up.  He comes to understand how much he loves this woman in his life, and there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to try to find her again.  It’s very touching!  I think it’s Heinlein’s last novel, too.  It’s soooo good, Lewis---you gotta read it one day!”&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-drysgrOsu_U/UatgPYAOdGI/AAAAAAAAKjQ/B6zp0ww3IGE/s1600/Halloween+2012+051.JPG" imageanchor="1" &gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-drysgrOsu_U/UatgPYAOdGI/AAAAAAAAKjQ/B6zp0ww3IGE/s320/Halloween+2012+051.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Gina and Lewis listened, sitting in the back seat of the Topaz together, greatly entertained.  An hour passed, and by now Dixie admitted she was plenty sober enough to make the drive home.  “Look, it’s getting so late, and we’re still having so much fun,” Dixie said.  “You want to ride back with us?  I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone’s still up!  Mom will be, and with the way Dad’s been working down at the jail…I swear, it’s no trouble at all!  You can crash on the couch.  Our friends LOVE Mama and Daddy!  Our friends are their friends, they always say.  Well…if they don’t care for ‘em, they’re probably bad news, anyway…but man, they would love to have you, and we have to work in the morning, so we can bring you right back to town…take you right to your doorstep before we come back here!  Whaddya say?”&lt;br /&gt;
Her motor mouth delivery was irrepressible.  Besides, how could he say no, with sweet Gina snuggled up on his arm?  The impromptu social occasion….date?...was just the kind of spontaneous moment Lewis sought.  Of course he’d tag along.  Dixie continued on as chauffeur, but Gina moved up to the front seat to talk while Lewis helped himself to a short doze beneath the headlights on the highway, as he listened to the music and the chattering, if contrasting, sisters.  By the time they left city limits for the country highway home, he felt cozy, indeed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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--&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://nwidget.networkedblogs.com/getnetworkwidget?bid=431684" type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BeChillCeaseIll/~4/r6OkdHvex6k" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ceaseill.blogspot.com/feeds/1625124064556582174/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=995210395573738136&amp;postID=1625124064556582174&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/995210395573738136/posts/default/1625124064556582174?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/995210395573738136/posts/default/1625124064556582174?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BeChillCeaseIll/~3/r6OkdHvex6k/id-go-anywhere-with-you-looking-for-sign.html" title="I'd Go Anywhere With You : Looking for a Sign" /><author><name>cease ill</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16852602817305513997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8kYdmD_lMyU/S051V_0yXkI/AAAAAAAAAcw/tTAhx6M7wMc/S220/SDC12549.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-53q8W5dC87c/Uayp5oD1t9I/AAAAAAAAKjo/uOIrfyFxlE8/s72-c/bridge,+Rome.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ceaseill.blogspot.com/2013/06/id-go-anywhere-with-you-looking-for-sign.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkMHRnc_eip7ImA9WhFTEUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-995210395573738136.post-5825783936719999993</id><published>2013-06-02T00:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2013-06-02T00:33:57.942-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-06-02T00:33:57.942-07:00</app:edited><title>I'd Go Anywhere With You:  Crazy</title><content type="html">&lt;br /&gt;
                                                                                      (Ch. 4)&lt;br /&gt;
She put on her pretty striped black and white blouse, with the deconstructed collar and lace, with blue jeans---all lovely gifts from Misty, who said she had more clothes than she could ever need. Gina had worn this, partying with the crowd from work, her brother’s friends: Tim, Misty, Rory, so many others.  Something in the drinking and casualness had seemed…empty.  The people she met---the boys she met---while doing this---so forgettable, save for what she gave of herself.  Something she seemed to never have gotten back.  That’s life.  Silence was fine…nothing more could she think to say.  Silence is not always emptiness.  Emptiness can be the right beginning.  If only there were no sense of loss.  If only the days ahead felt some purpose, besides living, simply not to disappoint those who would miss her.&lt;br /&gt;
Bowling ---with Hannah, Dixie, Denise---was a simple social activity, time she could share.  She doffed her tan slippers with the thoughtful leather bows for red and blue bowling shoes, and with a faint smile and ethereal presence, joined the merriment of the boisterous girls.  Dixie bowled a turkey in the first round; Gina herself had a respectable 130.  Hannah laughed at her 56.  The ball seemed to have a mind of its own that wanted nothing to do with bowling.  She told them about her crush at school, a skinny guy with a quirky sense of humor named Shannon. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Dixie had her own heartache, and a strange afternoon on Lavender Mountain that had set the tone for her and her sister every since.  But it was her nature to laugh and gossip and make nothing of it all.  Gina, her “shadow,” simply tried to follow the lead.  She sipped from her strawberry daiquiri and listened to Denise assume different implausible bowling poses while her sisters howled with laughter, before Denise settled on a granny squat stance.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Still, whatever troubled her sister---they never discussed particulars of the men that had passed through Gina’s life that fall-- Gina was aware of the woman who had taken Dixie’s kindness and tenderness and gobbled them up for her own.  &lt;br /&gt;
Dixie had cried on her shoulder, though, and soldiered on.  She had even developed an attachment for another woman they’d worked with at their old job.  It was too bad she’d moved away.  Only recently had Dixie come out with her secret.  It was not the easiest thing for a Baptist minister’s daughter, but she had a strong individualist’s streak.&lt;br /&gt;
They shared another secret, too, which had continued Gina’s loss of self, after all her security in how she saw the world had been ripped away that day on the mountain.  In this secret, though they never discussed it, she felt she had betrayed who she had always been.  But the details of these things were an ocean away tonight.  Dixie enjoyed the buzz from her drink, as Denise settled in determinedly to catch her score in round two.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“A split,” she groaned.  “It’s like, the more seriously I try to take it, the worse it goes!”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I bowl like Daffy Duck, myself,” Hannah said, smiling.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One thing did seem to come to Gina’s mind, besides faking her way through a good time: Denise’s brother, who had become her constant daydream companion since giving her her only flower two days before.  At least this time, she already knew the cause was hopeless, and when he left any day now, at least, he will only have made her laugh, made her smile…and didn’t break her heart.  Truth was, when he had kicked in that door, he had stormed the steps of her very imagination, with his need to impress her with that just-right moment in passing.&lt;br /&gt;
As if she read her sister’s mind, Dixie put down her drink and hopped up to grab Gina by the shoulders, smile, and give her a little shake.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Lewis-Lewis-Lewis!” she said.  It was like a spell and a jest in one.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It had the desired effect, though; Gina’s gloom dissipated.  She actually got a strike on the next frame.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bLYmKTjEy58/Uar0MGXC3vI/AAAAAAAAKi0/JolmUb8_yRI/s1600/waiting+for+Kaya+by+the+window+Nov+002.JPG" imageanchor="1" &gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bLYmKTjEy58/Uar0MGXC3vI/AAAAAAAAKi0/JolmUb8_yRI/s320/waiting+for+Kaya+by+the+window+Nov+002.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The next afternoon found Lewis making a song on his acoustic Laredo guitar. He had few things to pack.  Leaving the next week would be simple enough.  He meant to take off, already: he had paid his share of January’s bills, and now a new month was coming. For what was he waiting?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He found himself in the mood to make something light…creative…off the cuff.  He found a sequence of chords he liked and sang.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
   “My little rider’s/ coasting on his ship to Venus,” he started, drifting amidst the chord changes for a minute.  He continued on about eating moon cheese.  For some Freudian reason, he thought of Gina Archer.  It made him smile the way she did.  He would like nothing more than to brighten days at random, without asking anything in return.  No attachments.  No expectations. He pictured Michael Landon, as the angel on the old TV show.  “Some angel,” he ‘hmmphed’ to himself.  His ditty made him wonder, for a second, about Gina, unclothed.&lt;br /&gt;
Denise folded some cargo shorts in the living room when he came out for a glass of iced tea.  They talked casually, and he joined her in matching some socks.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Our friend Gina really seems to cheer up whenever you come around to visit,” confided Denise.  “She’s got a short evening shift at Stefan’s if you feel like dropping in.  I know you’re leaving soon, but she does kinda like you.  Martin’s biking over there to work at four, if you want to run him a jacket.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I’m sold,” he said, taking up the burgundy wind breaker.  “I guess I can stop by for a bit.”&lt;br /&gt;
Denise answered the phone.  “Looks like they need me to come in, actually.  At least I don’t have to close.  By the time Martin’s done I’ll be ready to leave.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Later, after sitting out the window listening to Highway 61, Lewis strolled down Juniper Street with his harmonica, keeping a lilting melody in the key of G on his Ace Flyer.  He talked to a couple of teenagers---he wasn’t really sure of their names.  They seemed to recognize him, though, and knew about his impending trip West.  They thought the idea of going somewhere different sounded very cool.  “And you don’t know anyone?” one asked.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I’ll just make whatever friends I can along the way,” Lewis replied.  “I just want to open my eyes to everything as I go.  There’s a lot of indie music coming out of Boulder, and it’s a college town.  I would be happy just to find some landscaping or something to do, and play my guitar at night.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Man, good luck!” said one of the lads, extending a hand to shake.  “I wish I could do something like that!”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Yah, if you come back one day,” said his friend, “you’ll have to tell us how it goes.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“My grandpa lives around here,” Lewis remarked.  “If I do come back, we’ll see each other then.  Y’all take it easy.”&lt;br /&gt;
From his neighborhood, Lewis walked winding Riverside Drive up to Stefan’s as night fell.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
 Gina noticed him when he came in, Carribean blue eyes glinting with warmth.  She was already off, sweeping up the cocktail section, while waiting on Dixie to close the kitchen.  Thursdays were rarely busy this late, this time of year. She figured he was there to hang out with his sis and roomie.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Hey,” he offered warmly, as he spun an oak stool around to straddle.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Hey Lewis,” she replied, smiling lightly.  “Door fix okay?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Heh, yeah, I just had to screw the plate back in on the lock.  Nothing too broken, after all.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I’m glad.”  She looked down demurely.  “Thanks for the carnation.”  She looked up from sweeping.  “That was real sweet.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Oh.  Sure!”  He saw how frail her rail-like frame was.  What a tiny lady. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Get you something?” she offered.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Looks like you’re off, already,” he reasoned politely.  “You needn’t trouble yourself.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“No trouble.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He relents.  “Okay, recommendations?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Well, if you’re old enough to drink, after all,” she smiled, “Maybe you’d like to have a honey brown lager?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I can show you my i.d. if you promise not to tell anyone trailing me that you saw me.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I’ll take your word this time.  Any food?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Did you plan to have anything, yourself?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Oh, I’m not hungry.”  It was true.  She was very rarely hungry.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-A_IZ4Z71YNU/Uar1WjMNTzI/AAAAAAAAKjA/kl2-oNb8Q3c/s1600/Halloween+2012+060.JPG" imageanchor="1" &gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-A_IZ4Z71YNU/Uar1WjMNTzI/AAAAAAAAKjA/kl2-oNb8Q3c/s320/Halloween+2012+060.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Nothing for me, thanks.”  He figured he should save what little money he had for his trip.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“What do you like to eat?” she asked, as she punched in his beer. &lt;br /&gt;
                &lt;br /&gt;
“I used to be addicted to the Monte Crisco here.  A pregnant server, Cara, when I worked here in high school, turned me on to them. I like a good garden burger.  Seasoned soy with refried beans makes a yummy low-fat burrito, but refried beans, cheese, and corn chips is delicious, too.  I’ve had to rely on starches and a sandwich a lot lately, but I still enjoy a tasty salad with low-fat ranch and bits of cheese, maybe carrots, every couple of days.  I do miss having a little weed, though. Just a little is good for initiating work or practice and keeping out of the dumps, but those moods pass if I don’t linger over sadness.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Pretty good diet!”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I take okay care of myself.  I haven’t quite caught mountain bike fever yet, but I could get into that.  Hiking’s my favorite.  I walk to and from work.  Well, I did until last day, two days ago.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He noticed her pert little bottom, but brushed the attractive thought aside, to keep things simple and friendly.  Her tiny arms.  Her child-like hands.  She struck a drastic contrast with her Rubenesque sister.  He couldn’t know that she was a much more curvaceous girl in high school.  Her shyness and her size helped insulate her from many overt romantic interests.  She was happy just to have her girl friends and guys like Victor Clarke, who didn’t try to make anything more of it.  Her responsibilities and her fantasies had kept her amorous heart occupied.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
 Society, he thought, was much too absorbed with a lady’s size---even if this one was maybe a bit shockingly small.  &lt;br /&gt;
When you love someone, it doesn’t matter what size they are, he reasoned.  Especially not if you really enjoy their friendship.  It’s just a matter of health and happiness.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
 Sometime after she retrieved his beer from the bar, Lewis put a couple of songs on the jukebox.  When “Crazy” by Patsy Cline started, he hopped off his stool and held out his hand.  “How would like a dance?” he offered.   She was surprised and laughed, but she consented---why not? The two began to dance slowly.  He noticed how sad the old country standard was, yet how willing Patsy sounded, for all her heartache.  She felt good in his arms.  He could feel this really lifted her spirit.  It would be such a romantic life, to do this for one girl after another, to leave them smiling that there was some gallantry in the world. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As for Gina, she simply…felt.  She’d never actually danced in any truly romantic way with a guy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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Chapter Three&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Gina reached into the stove to add a baked potato side to the tray of meals she was taking out.  Her sister turned the prime rib on the grill, while Denise assembled a plate for Martin.  Kaylie, with her auburn hair tied into pig tails, offered to run a tray for shy Debbie, a pale white pretty petite blond who had just started.  “Pretty slammin’!” Denise remarked.  “Sorry I lost my cool over those dropped salads.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-h8nBhz2rjF8/UadP8Y46BEI/AAAAAAAAKiU/4LD-CbXNJ3Y/s1600/Mama+008.JPG" imageanchor="1" &gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-h8nBhz2rjF8/UadP8Y46BEI/AAAAAAAAKiU/4LD-CbXNJ3Y/s320/Mama+008.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-onbSLsqrSOQ/UadQC_ucnxI/AAAAAAAAKic/2cLwjEHry78/s1600/Mama+016.JPG" imageanchor="1" &gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-onbSLsqrSOQ/UadQC_ucnxI/AAAAAAAAKic/2cLwjEHry78/s320/Mama+016.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
“Eh, can’t take it personally,” Martin replied, tucking his order book back into his apron.  “I’m glad things are picking up lately.  We’ll have higher bills and rent without Lewis to pitch in.”&lt;br /&gt;
“Your brother’s moving?” Dixie asked, as she reached with tongs into a pan for sirloin tips.  “Pardon my natural nosiness; I just butt in where it feels right!”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Ha!  Yah, he said he’s leaving for Colorado in about a week,” said Denise, brushing ash blonde bangs back.  “He kinda wants to hitchhike, but I suggested the bus.  The days of thumbing it are done.”&lt;br /&gt;
“I love a great road trip,” said Martin, as he helped Kaylie expedite the plates.  “Danny and I went to a Ren Fest in Texas before I moved in with Lewis.  I could make a life of it.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Oh,” Denise cooed, cocking her head, “why don’t you and Danny just elope and be Dharma Bums?”&lt;br /&gt;
For a second, Gina thought of Martin’s secret, passed in confidence, about his problems with Denise.  He had fallen into a similar pattern years before with his mother.  His pain had brought out Gina’s own Little Mama instincts. Maybe that had been part of the draw; she wanted to give what she so desperately sought for herself, even though she told no one her problems.  Look what happened every time she confessed them before.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Martin smiled and ignored the light-hearted bait.  He knew Denise could get a little jealous of his attentions sometimes, but this was just part of her sense of humor.  Probably.  “Of course, I’ve heard that not even Kerouac thought much of the ‘go on the road and find yourself’ path after he lived and wrote about it.  You see a lot of things, but sometimes you lose more than you find.”  He turned to Gina and offered to take one of the big trays ready to go.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Who’s got the party in the Garden Room?” Bud asked.  He was tall, and wore a trucker cap and had a goatee.  He puzzled over ingredients added, subtracted, and re-added on the print out.&lt;br /&gt;
“Uhm, chick…” said Kaylie, snapping her fingers, as she tried to bring the name to mind.  “Chick and…dude!”  She spoke with a Northeastern accent.&lt;br /&gt;
“Chick and Dude…that needs to be the stars of a romance,” Dixie chirped.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Gina shouldered her tray with a faint smile.  So Lewis was on the way out.  He had been pretty friendly.  It was nice to have an encounter of any kind with a guy that didn’t backfire horribly.  For a moment she envied the thought of packing up and going out on one’s own.  She had never spent a single night away from her family, though.  Any idea of where to go was just a fog, anyway.  It was a simple pang of yearning to be anywhere else.  She imagined people often felt like strangers in their own lives, so she made little fuss over it.&lt;br /&gt;
Across the river, Lewis finished garnishing a plate, himself, amidst a flurry of activities.  He enjoyed the challenge of working “the wheel.”  He didn’t plan to stay long enough to be a waiter at Gunther’s Crab Shack.  In fact, this was his last night.&lt;br /&gt;
Cheering up people and helping for the simple reward of the task for its own sake had become his guiding lights.  He didn’t feel particularly close to his co-workers, but he’d gone out with them a time or two.  He’d been drawn aside by an old friend who was now a coach at an area high school.  Cody had warned him earnestly that he shouldn’t get comfortable being part of this crowd.  They were never going anywhere else.  He had settled for whatever he could get, himself, even though he had a very pretty wife, Thea, who had graduated just ahead of Lewis.  They wondered what happened to his full scholarship and how he had drifted away from that world of opportunities.  Cody apologized for meddling, but the message was warmth in a cold sink of drudge work, a wave, a reminder of the high hopes everyone had felt for Lewis when he was a senior.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He clocked out two hours later, shook Maureen’s hand and thanked her for the holiday work.  She expressed concern for him, too, but wished him luck.  With his brakes still in need of replacement, Lewis had gotten into the habit of briskly walking to and from work.  The honesty of his exhaustion and the chilly air, the self sufficiency of his path without complaint or begging for ease, all appealed to his hungry yet peaceful spirit.  He reflected upon the people he’d helped and wondered what the road might conceive ahead.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Without consideration of a further romantic entanglement---he’d always felt the need since adolescence to define himself with some girl of interest, before he realized he needed to be more secure in himself---Lewis valued Art now, Music especially, as his mistress, and his love was now kindness towards everyone he felt needed it.  He felt he was finally growing up.  Let life be the romance, now; being alive and self-sufficient offered chance meetings and ignored pleasures, free of the selfish circle of dependency that had left him empty inside.  Six months with no serious girlfriend contender had become six months of re-discovering his own curiosity.  It gave him time to buy and explore learning guitar, though he wondered if lessons might not have been a better choice.  Still, he’d just chosen to try a few chords initially, then explore making whatever sounds he could find, in an effort to be original and different. &lt;br /&gt;
Even now, as he winded down Riverside Drive in the darkness, a melody quite beyond his ability to play shaped up in his mind.  Hard work and new encounters were to be his only companion.  Anger and depression fell away, with the self-pity that came about from lost love and confusing paths.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The next day, Lewis walked down to Stefan’s to spend a little time with his sister, who was preparing to get off work when he arrived.  Her friend Gina had agreed to take her to do a little shopping, so he simply tagged along.  He took a back seat in the Mercury Topaz the Archer sisters shared, and the three passed the multi-story riverside library---the sleeping place, as he thought of it, of all his intellectual fathers--- and rode down Turner McCall Boulevard to pick up a dress in layaway for Hannah, and Turtle’s Records for a used cd Denise had to have.  For her, at the time, the harder it rocked, the better.  She had all types of interests in music and played piano quite well, but hard-charging music was her present taste.  Lewis reflected tongue-in-cheek over how long it had taken him to be comfortable browsing again without buying anything, after he’d been busted shoplifting on his fourteenth birthday with T.J., who slipped three old jazz tapes down his shirt at the K-Mart across from this very store.  He watched Gina follow quietly along with Denise, and thought of how she could do with a good smile.  She seemed like such a hard-working and giving person, but had a listlessness that matched her too-tiny frame, like a plucked flower.  There was a reason you left blossoms in the wild, he thought: once they were cut, their beauty couldn’t be possessed personally for very long.  Where had he heard something like that?  A plan hatched in his mind.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Once the trio got back to the car, Lewis asked politely if he could stop by Kroger’s across the parking lot.  “I have something special I need to check on,” he offered.&lt;br /&gt;
“What you want?” asked Denise.&lt;br /&gt;
“Just something special.  I’ll fill out the questionnaire later.”&lt;br /&gt;
“Okay, smarty-pants.  But if you take too long, we’ll leave yo ass!”&lt;br /&gt;
“Your concern is touching,” he replied blithely.  Gina cranked up and gave him a ride to the door, anyway, and Lewis dashed inside.&lt;br /&gt;
“Wonder what’s the mystery ingredient?” said Gina, watching after him.&lt;br /&gt;
“Tampons!” croaked Denise.&lt;br /&gt;
“Condoms,” replied Gina.&lt;br /&gt;
“Excuse me,” said his sister in an imitation of his voice, “you got any Preparation H?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The girls shared a wicked little laugh.  They agreed, it was definitely a mission for hemorrhoid cream.  At any rate, he was back, with his jacket pulled shut, in a couple of minutes.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The ride under the bridge beside the duck pond and the Civic Center had Gina on Juniper Street in seven minutes.  Lewis pondered his six months in this neighborhood, just around the block from where Grandpa Green and Aunt Glenda lived.&lt;br /&gt;
He would have to walk over and have supper with them one night before leaving.&lt;br /&gt;
Gina pulled up in the driveway, beside Lewis’ sidelined Corolla.  At the top of the stairs, Denise made the discovery that Martin had her key, on her keychain, to the apartment.  His was locked inside.  Lewis fidgeted with his jacket, mildly concerned, cradling his secret to his bosom under a winter-clouded sky.&lt;br /&gt;
“I forgot, I left him my car to drive home,” moaned Denise.  They stood languidly for a minute before their dilemma. “We’ll have to go back up to Stefan’s and get a key to get in!”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Lewis paused a breathless second.  The air pressure itself seemed to twist.  “Hell with this,” he muttered coolly, as he reared back on one leg and raised his other one up to chest level.  He smashed his foot into the door knob, kicking it open to swing compliantly on its frame, as his sister stood by agape.  Lewis then strode up the steps inside to the apartment door, while Denise’s emotional temperature began to build to vaporous portions.  Gina’s amazement at this violent if chivalrous gesture began to convert into barely-suppressed giggles.  He stepped inside, with her close behind, as Denise cursed and rushed into the bathroom.  Gina flopped on the couch.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He stopped at the bedroom door and turned, to reveal a single pink carnation.  He turned to Gina, reached over her shoulder, and laid it on her chest.  Her face lit up in complete surprise, as he drew his finger to his pursed lips:  “Shhh.”  She watched his blue eyes blink once, an impish smile of delight passing over his face as he turned, without a word, to his room, walked in, and shut the door.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-woXOgDBoky8/UadQnQ-LxbI/AAAAAAAAKik/YgGFqAhnXbw/s1600/waiting+for+Kaya+by+the+window+Nov+001.JPG" imageanchor="1" &gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-woXOgDBoky8/UadQnQ-LxbI/AAAAAAAAKik/YgGFqAhnXbw/s320/waiting+for+Kaya+by+the+window+Nov+001.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Dumbfounded, Gina cradled the flower by its stem, looking after him.  No man had ever given her a flower before. She wanted to share the moment with Denise.  She heard a bottle smash in the bathroom, a plastic one full of Pepto Bismol, as she would soon discover after Denise stormed off into her room.  Gina sat and brushed the carnation against her cheek, relishing its fragrance and suppressing tearful titters.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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Chapter Two&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This Juniper Street duplex apartment on the second floor was becoming home away from home for Gina Archer.  Stefan’s Bar and Grill was about a mile away on Riverside Drive.  She mounted the steps now behind Denise, who had posed with her and Dixie for pictures shot by Martin just a week or two before.  Denise had apparently fallen in love with the Archer family after working with the girls and visiting everyone at their home.  She found there a warm sense of belonging and friendliness.  It was, considering the brief triangle that developed during her troubles with Martin, an unexpected benevolence.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Denise paused to take up the bonsai tree left to sun on the porch.  Gina offered to take it while Denise fumbled for the house key to the place.  She’d just moved in upon agreement with Martin and Lewis two months after they became roommates.  She was pleased her new job had brought with it new friends.  Their seemingly instant closeness had provided some placid vibes in her sometimes self-torturing existence.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I’m just glad to have the day off!” Denise sighed, upon entering the kitchen.  “We were so slow last night until right up til closing.  Two orders five minutes before…but you know what?  I have every intention of starting an angel food cake and maybe some homemade spaghetti sauce.  Cooking’s just in my blood!”&lt;br /&gt;
Denise busied herself laying out the bunt cake pan and mixing bowl.  She waxed enthusiastically over her recent visit to the Archer home and life in their kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“It was so great, talking to your Dad while he made chili,” she beamed.  “And while he’s telling me his prison guard stories, you sisters break out singing together…and your Mom comes shuffling in to pour herself a Coke.  Just such a wonderful atmosphere!”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Yah,” agreed Gina, “I guess we were all singing and talking too loudly or she would’ve just called out from the living room for someone to fix her drink for her.  She calls all three girls’ names no matter which one of us she’s calling, usually.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“That’s hilarious!” said Denise, as she opened a bag of flour and began sifting.  “Your Dad sounds like he became a counselor as much as a guard.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“He was maybe too good at it,” said Gina, siding up gingerly.  “He would befriend these wayward women, and some of them would start calling the house, even in the middle of the night, trying to get his help.  Mama was NOT a fan of that.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I’ll bet not!” exclaimed Denise while churning away at the drifting white powder.  “He told me she used to go on rides with him when he had to transport women to Northwest Regional.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“The psychiatric hospital.  Yes, they would call her up when there was no lady cop available, so they would have a female riding along, y’know…one of those things.  No sexual misconduct could be claimed…or be done! Hahah.  They’d ask because she was his wife.  Small towns.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Never thought of it---hmmph!” said Denise, refilling the sifter.  “Makes sense, though…they could make up anything in their heads and really believe it.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It was best, Gina realized, while absent-mindedly rinsing out dishes in the sink, that she had closed the book on her feelings for Martin, outside of friendship.  The passionless kiss decided her even before he broke the news to her.  It was too much like her lack of appetite; going through the motions on something as important as a relationship just added to the hollowness of her attempts to find love before.  She hoped this new friendship would work.  It had been a mixture of strange and comforting, upon her last visit.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
  All three of them had been hanging out together.  Denise had earlier suggested Gina spend the night, instead of them taking her home.  Then her suggestion evolved into having Gina stay in their tent, which she and Martin had been erecting in their bedroom for the eccentric purpose of renewing their romance and sense of fun, to remind them of good times before.  Since the tent seemed too much trouble to put back up, Denise said she should just sleep in the bed with them.  Gina had planned on relying on a sleeping bag, but the bed was so huge, and Gina already was used to sharing a bed with her sisters, all her life.  It didn’t seem so strange at the time, because as she lied there, no sexual attentions or any kind of tension arose.  Not much different than a group of puppies.&lt;br /&gt;
Denise disturbed the reverie by cracking an egg on the counter.  “My brother’s home, too.  He tends to keep to himself a bit when he’s not at work, lately.  I wonder sometimes if he’s still grieving this girl he used to date; he never hears from her.  I hope he’s letting go.  I saw him with a couple of other girls since then, but nothing that stuck.  He was a really fun and thoughtful person before that.  Well, I guess he’s still thoughtful.  He’s been bringing home library books when he’s not practicing guitar or playing cd’s as he sits out the window on the roof of the front porch in front of the house.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As if on cue, Lewis came out, with a thick book in his hand, in sock feet.  “Oh, hey, Denise!  Thought you were home.  Martin’s not back from mountain biking.”  He smiled at Gina.  “I thought I might break hermitage to say hello to everyone.  It’s funny how you can get used to your own company.”  Gina smiled back as Denise set the oven to pre-heat.&lt;br /&gt;
Lewis sees how painfully thin Gina is.  He remembers peeping out at her one time before when she came over.  He’d actually come out to talk to Dixie on another occasion; her boisterous manner had made her easy to approach, the kind of person you might have a beer with.  Besides, he’d heard she was into girls, so he didn’t feel conflicted about hitting on his sister’s friend.  On the other hand, Denise had gravitated to a couple of his, along the way, though living here with Martin was the most serious relationship she’d had.  Denise talks about Martin’s delivery cart he’d built to tow with his bike for local orders from Stefan’s.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Lewis left music playing from his room for entertainment.  After the cake goes into the oven, the trio migrated to the living room.  Gina noticed the book he read was Nietzsche’s Thus Spake Zarathustra.  He apparently shared Martin’s penchant for serious reading; it was probably their original bond.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Nothing serious was discussed today, however; Denise pulled out the old game system to challenge everyone to a few rounds of Clayfighter.  After her Mr. Frosty proved unstoppable, a giddy game broke out, something like tag.  After tasting adulthood, this household had made an embrace of keeping the big kid inside alive, as though childhood were already some nostalgic distance past.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Soon, they’d begun a rough housing game of sorts, falling over the back of the couch. They took turns pushing each other over the edge and tumbling over the white elephant furniture. It reminded Denise of games she and Lewis used to play growing up, rushing at the couch while the other defended the “attack” with a cushion, then bouncing off and laughing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
At one point, Gina landed square in Lewis’ lap.  They made no effort to pull apart.  It just felt natural.  Martin then ascended the stairwell to the doorway, where Denise greeted him with a kiss.  The two migrated into the kitchen to talk, after he wheeled his Giant into the bedroom.  As they sat quietly, Gina found her hand slipping naturally into Lewis’s palm.  They simply sat holding hands while Neil Young’s first solo album played from a mix out his open bedroom door.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Dixie came by to pick up her sister just before dinner.  Lewis watched everyone go out to the car, then walked in, saw the cake was done, and turned off the stove.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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--&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://nwidget.networkedblogs.com/getnetworkwidget?bid=431684" type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BeChillCeaseIll/~4/CsVT7cNNgJA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ceaseill.blogspot.com/feeds/5431405596199891326/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=995210395573738136&amp;postID=5431405596199891326&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/995210395573738136/posts/default/5431405596199891326?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/995210395573738136/posts/default/5431405596199891326?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BeChillCeaseIll/~3/CsVT7cNNgJA/ill-go-anywhere-with-you-some-play-time.html" title="I'll Go Anywhere With You   Some play time" /><author><name>cease ill</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16852602817305513997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8kYdmD_lMyU/S051V_0yXkI/AAAAAAAAAcw/tTAhx6M7wMc/S220/SDC12549.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ceaseill.blogspot.com/2013/05/ill-go-anywhere-with-you-some-play-time.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0MGQnc4eyp7ImA9WhBaF0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-995210395573738136.post-1417792027091669763</id><published>2013-05-28T05:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2013-05-28T05:50:23.933-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-05-28T05:50:23.933-07:00</app:edited><title>I'll Go Anywhere With You: a romance</title><content type="html">&lt;i&gt;Just  seems like the perfect point in our lives to try a romance novel.   It's not like I don't have plenty of things to finish editing, either.  Does seem, though, like the perfect thing to give me a little space before trying to complete either the novelization of Electric Thieves or ...well, whatever I call the mess of my life in the past year.  Besides...I've tried this story many times, and I think, after reading a few of these novels lately, maybe it's the perfect format for telling it in a straight-forward manner.  Let's see what you think of the opening.  Enjoy!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
chapter one&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rp1Mu4oWLEQ/UaSoAq72BlI/AAAAAAAAKiE/N9OTuqiOMUM/s1600/Holidays+2012+005.JPG" imageanchor="1" &gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rp1Mu4oWLEQ/UaSoAq72BlI/AAAAAAAAKiE/N9OTuqiOMUM/s320/Holidays+2012+005.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When Kaylie told Gina she had customers on table thirty three, in the dining room by the street, she would’ve settled for a simple distraction, from the world of her own personal misery. Gina never imagined the next table she served might change her life forever.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Not that she was ever the drama queen.  Despite a healthy diet of romance novels and soap operas while babysitting all her younger cousins and sister, Gina had been the quiet one, safely ensconced in the shadow of her vivacious big sister Dixie.  In fact, her penchant for caution had won her the affectionate, if derisive, nickname of “Little Mama.”  Her conscience activated whenever Dixie and the other “members of the Dead Beat Club” tried to seek out typical high school girl trouble.  Besides, as she knew, her parents always seemed to know what was going on, like a gut feeling, and would find out in the end.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But teenagers grow up, and suddenly a world of personal decisions and explorations that owe no accounting to one’s parents opens up.  In Gina’s case, this world had swallowed her without mercy. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
 She had worked hard after high school; her family had to defer college for financial reasons, so to help out, Gina and Dixie worked full time.  They had recently joined their brother Ash at Stefan’s, the riverside bar and grill situated on a bank beside the Oostanaula, with Dixie going to the kitchen and Gina training to wait tables, such as the one seated by Kaylie just now.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“It’s Martin,” she said, as she stuffed the menus into their pouch on the hostess stand.  So her friend and fellow server would be her next guest.  This made Gina smile a little, even if their relationship had taken an ambiguous turn of late.  The emptiness she felt inside---the apathy and quiet despair---had been alleviated by his humor and engaging conversation.  Unfortunately, another hostess, Connie, had broken the news of the other type engagement---to his girlfriend, about whom she’d heard nothing during the times he’d tickled her and otherwise cheered her up.  Connie had relished crushing Gina’s hopes.  On top of that, the girlfriend had joined the kitchen staff.  Gina had started a friendship with her, though, at the New Year’s Eve party a couple of weeks before.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The awkward situation that followed was shuffled into a mental vault, as Gina walked over to table thirty three.  Her kiss with Martin Reimer flashed before her eyes as she rounded the corner.  It had been an unexpectedly dispassionate kiss, and one she tried not to regret.  After all, her months of miseries before had left her in desperate need of a friend…even one with whom she’d shared some confusion.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Gina!  I thought we might get you,” beamed Martin, as he leaned out of his seat to give her a hug around the waist.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“This is my roommate and college friend, Lewis King.  We thought we’d catch up over lunch, and since it’s slow this time of day, we just walked over.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
His friend had curly brown hair flowing over his ears from under his black beret, and expressive lashes flickering over crystal blue eyes.  He was dressed in a denim shirt with a hunter’s green fishing-type vest, and his pretty lips spread out into a placid smile as he gave Gina a friendly wave.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Can’t stay away on your off day?” she bantered.  “I may have some silverware for you to roll!”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I’ll be glad to Bissell your section when we go,” Martin laughed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Oh, is that what we’re calling it these days?” said Lewis, arching an eyebrow humorously.  The easy laughter between everyone belied the slight tension Gina still felt with her friend.  Only the next day after their kiss had he explained that he was getting back together with his fiancé.  She pushed this aside again to get their drink orders.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I think I may have a Heineken,” said Lewis, looking up from his thoughtful perusal of the menu.  He was always excited by the sheer possibilities.  He hadn’t been spending much on food of late, with his big plans.  In fact, this was the subject of his lunch conversation with Martin.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Oh?  Could I see some i.d.?” Gina asked.&lt;br /&gt;
Taken slightly aback, Lewis grinned and reached into his vest, digging out a guitar pick and a folded slip of paper.  &lt;br /&gt;
The pick, she recognized readily; her father often kept them around.  He had played guitar a lot during his days as a reverend; Gina had sang lead in the family’s gospel group.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The slip turned out to be his temporary driver’s license, with his old photo stapled to it.  She eyed this a moment.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I’m really not supposed to take anything but a real i.d.”  Lewis’ mouth dropped open as she turned to Martin.  “Can you vouch for him?”  She privately enjoyed teasing Lewis.  It was nice to feel a little spark of her old self.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Hmmm,” Martin said, stroking a blond goatee.  “I think this is legit.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Give me a break,” said Lewis.  “I just had my birthday…you know that!  The real one just hasn’t come in the mail.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Oh, so this isn’t a real one, is what you’re saying,” grinned Martin, flicking back his long Nordic hair.  Gina tittered.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Well, if you can’t serve me, you can’t serve me,” Lewis said with faintly mocking resignation, as he eased back in his chair.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I’ll let you slide,” Gina offered, “this time.”&lt;br /&gt;
So that’s Lewis, Gina thought, as she placed the order.  Martin’s girlfriend Denise’s brother.  The one Connie had gushed over the week before, claiming he was her best friend.  She had tried to be Connie’s friend, too, but there was a cruel streak and a tendency towards laziness that irked Gina and really, all the wait staff.  She was three months pregnant, but Connie used that as her excuse to lean on the podium and do nothing.  It was too bad; Gina really loved babies and pregnant women.   It seemed almost everything in her life lately that should have been a good thing turned out to have some nasty twist.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Dixie dried her hands off on her apron, smiling broadly.  Her arm had burn marks---“diamonds” they called them---from her bad habit of inflicting pain on herself, as did all the cook staff, like it was a “diamond club.”  As if being naturally clumsy wasn’t enough!  But Dixie was a bright spot.  She shared her sister’s dark hair and dark eyes, with a presence that filled the room.&lt;br /&gt;
“Hey, I heard Martin’s here!” she said.  “You get him?”&lt;br /&gt;
“I just put in the order.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I’ve got a salad in there for you…need to eat, girl!” Dixie said, patting her thin little sister.  Gina smiled lightly and proceeded through the swinging door, where she found her late lunch, with bits of chicken lovingly hidden under the lettuce bed.  Along with her consistent exercise habit, Gina had lost almost all of her appetite.  In a family of hearty eaters, her dwindling weight had not escaped Dixie’s notice.  They each had their own underlying problems.  Neither of them said much about what really troubled them.  Easier to turn on some music on the drive from home each day and talk about basically nothing.  Dixie was always happy to fill the silence.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
 “So I put in my notice last night,” said Lewis.  “I’ll be ready at the beginning of next month.”&lt;br /&gt;
“I understand,” said Martin.  “Danny and I have made a lot of trips on the road.  It can be really good for clarifying your state of mind.  He took me to this Ren Fest in Texas, one year…”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A girl in combat boots and an over-sized t-shirt came up to the table to give Martin a hug.  Her friend behind her had a similar, punk-rock style.  The girl was like a taller, younger version of her sisters.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Hannah!  What are you doing here today?”&lt;br /&gt;
“LeeAnn and I are out of school for Martin Luther King holiday!” said Hannah.  “I just wanted to come by and bug Dixie and Gina.  Maybe steal some onion rings!”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Well, perfect day then for you to meet my roomie…his last name’s King…”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Oh!!  Hahah!” She extended a hand to Lewis.  “I get it.  Pleased ta meet ya!”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“You wanted to apply for a job washing pots in the afternoons, you can see Keith,” said Dixie.  “I’ve got to get a Swiss bacon mushroom burger on for this gentleman.  Where are you two going?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“We thought we’d catch a movie while we’re in downtown,” said Hannah.  “You wanna join us when you get off?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Sure!” said Dixie.  “I’ll be ready in a bit.  Nice seeing you guys…I’ll try to come out before you go, I’m just cleaning up.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Here comes my other sister!” said Hannah.  “Maybe we’ll all go?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Oh, that’s okay,” said Gina, “I took a double shift today.” By now she was often the “star server” who checked others’ stations and got the best sections.  Ash had trained her well.  She worked more and more these days, pitching in her part for her family.  She was done with romantic misadventures.  Her sisters were gone with LeeAnn as soon as she delivered Lewis some Heinz 57.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
  She was back with the burgers and the ticket soon enough, watching Martin and Lewis talk earnestly from afar while she caught up her side work.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Connie came in late after a doctor’s appointment.  She settled her belongings, chattering hectically.  While she went to the bathroom, Gina watched the boys head for the door.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Feel free to come by again Thursday if you’re not doing anything,” said Martin, hugging her again.  “Denise is off all day.  Maybe you two can do something?”  He sincerely felt sorry for the confusion he had caused.  If Denise and Gina could build a friendship, perhaps it would make up for it in some part.  He had a very rocky relationship with Denise of late, but they’d talked over their engagement and reconciled.  Perhaps Gina had such a sweet spirit, but how could he give up on all the work he’d put into things with Denise?  He banished thoughts of what might have been.&lt;br /&gt;
Gina, for her part, remembered her last visit, how chummy everyone had gotten.  It reminded her uncomfortably of the encounter that had started her downward spiral.  But the shadow of something stranger yet loomed beyond even that.  It seemed fear had shaken up everything she took for granted one fall day and nothing had ever quite been so innocent again.  She bid Lewis and Martin farewell, noting the faraway look in Lewis’ blue eyes.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
After they were in the parking lot, Connie came back out.  “It seems like I have to go seventeen times a day!” she declared.  Gina thought about telling Connie Lewis had been there.  She considered it when Connie first came in.  For that matter, Connie had shown her own designs on Martin, until he had neglected to give her the same level of tickling and joking he’d shown Gina.  This was behind her “helpful advice” about Martin’s girlfriend, when she had noticed the bit of hope emerging in Gina’s eyes.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Gina tended to think of everyone’s feelings, no matter how sick at heart she felt from the disastrous roller coaster that had emerged with her blossoming love life.  This time, she followed a slightly vindictive impulse, which she recognized for what it was.  Well, so what, she thought, as she left Connie in the dark about the visitors until they were safely gone.  Even a good girl has to get a little of her own back sometimes.  It felt foreign to her.  But then, she wasn’t so sure how good a girl she really was anymore, after all.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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"Over"  by Soul Ba-Doom Ba-Doom  Written by Cecil Disharoon, Jr.&lt;br /&gt;
I've mentioned how writing a song can be a way of empowering yourself regarding a situation, much like listening to the same music sometimes makes you feel better.  It's a great way to tell stories that affect you.  You can also take a journey---whether through personal acceptance of your understanding of a situation, or empathetically guiding your characters through their situation as the lyrics progress from beginning to end.  (I can't say for sure at what point I heard the melody, but lately it's been coming along with the words from the first.)&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1e143T11h7M/UZcjgKiTkMI/AAAAAAAAKhs/SjlDZcJ0I4Q/s1600/jaunt+018.JPG" imageanchor="1" &gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1e143T11h7M/UZcjgKiTkMI/AAAAAAAAKhs/SjlDZcJ0I4Q/s320/jaunt+018.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If you yourself are the character in the song, writing gives you a perspective to witness the journey...and maybe understand it better.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So upon waking from dreams---I was reading a sports page, and earlier heard "Rocket Man" playing as well, in the dreams---I decided to cope with a feeling of loss by telling the story of "Over."  We move from the story between two people to a wider perspective, a philosophical reflection in simple words.  The feeling of hope and vision that informs the third verse completes the journey of knowledge into acceptance...and wraps up nicely with the song, and the words, being "over."  It seems to have taken me about fifteen minutes to get it all down, and the music came alongside it with little trouble.  The gentle guitar riff is exactly the sort of touch that stays with me most often when I'm in a very emotional mood.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/Ki9rdYhcyFQ" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
These reflections gave my best friend pause, as I've been writing about this sort of thing (loss) a lot this year.  "I'll be glad when you write something that's not about a break-up or death again...you need a happy song," she said.  Well, like "Evolution" and many other times, the first words of my song once more came from her words straight out of her mouth, which lends them a conversational tone naturally.  I decided the silly rhymes that came to me were no reason to stop, because the melody compelled me.  Why let anything stop me from writing for sheer pleasure?  The results have continued to cheer me since...and that's a nice quality in a song.  I hope you find it lots of fun!  I wrote it in about forty five minutes, chorus last.  I took some time working out the chord progression, but once I was sure of the key I just experimented. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JIqxuemNa5A/UZckGu6xhNI/AAAAAAAAKh0/71hMxu-TXUo/s1600/jaunt+016.JPG" imageanchor="1" &gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JIqxuemNa5A/UZckGu6xhNI/AAAAAAAAKh0/71hMxu-TXUo/s320/jaunt+016.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Musically, it's pretty straight forward.  I had a real front lawn in mind: her parents' house.  I imagine our bike path when I'm thinking of "run beneath the skies of blue"...a bit of heaven on Earth!  The real Angela Dawn gave the song its inspirational smile...so who better to whom to dedicate what could fairly be called a "ditty" ?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
Suddenly, the air itself omniously draws her off her feet.  A telepathic call from the Living Land itself warns her, beckons her, in its 5th dimensional hyper language: this pocket is of otherworldly origin.  But where does it lead?  She sits and meditates: nothing living seems to go beyond that strange null zone.&lt;br /&gt;
Outside the caves, she draws her steed Aya-Anda to her side.  She walks the creature cautiously to the amethyst opening...and casts a pebble into the void.  The rock seems to spin without regard to natural laws, but is otherwise unharmed.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A call for help!  Is this real?  A flaming arrow point floats before her, wavering in the non-void.  Is this an audible call...or simply part of her thoughts?  Yet, its urgency whispers to her.  She sets up her communication device within Aya-Anda's cybernetic circuitry, to send relays back to the Dome Tribe, the quasi-technological nomads for whom she has ranged so far afield.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
  She takes a reading of the bizarre environment...and hears the call again.  The language is an ancient Danish dialect...some of the words, she does not recognize, but its intention is clear...and now, she faces a choice.  How can she simply walk into a trap without regard for her life, or those who love her?  She tries again to reach some kind of animal life, with which to establish rapport.  Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;
  Her own mortality, and its place in the web of her soul group, shines brightly in her mind before the void of non-existence. &lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
From deep within, her own spirit guides offer her the strength, to leap  empty-handed into what lies ahead.&lt;br /&gt;
Vado Bujinka closes her eyes, a thread of silver seeming to connect her belly to the path of fate.  Her own destiny awaits, as the air itself shimmers around her...and symbols, ancient runes, light the darkness of her mind.  She stands atop one of three pillars...and about her, a green light to the north...and a red light, to the south...and a woman, haunting her from the blue light of the west...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A blast of wind, chill as the North Sea, makes every light about her dance...and suddenly a body of black water seems to rise all about her...she counts each breath, recognizing her own body, recognizing the essence of her own life.  &lt;br /&gt;
She identifies symbols, tries to connect them to her memory, some rational activity to center her as she and her horse seem to sink...deep within the unconscious mind...&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kVviqB2cKwY/UZMdJHXlNjI/AAAAAAAAKgs/WpD2F5Myc0w/s1600/Winstons+009.JPG" imageanchor="1" &gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kVviqB2cKwY/UZMdJHXlNjI/AAAAAAAAKgs/WpD2F5Myc0w/s320/Winstons+009.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
...and when her eyes open, beneath a dark purple sky, she smells a flower unlike any she's ever known...and hears a mighty bird, whose strange call fills her body with animal fear...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Where..AM I?" she questions, as she counts her breaths...slowly assimilating to the byzantine geography that emerges in the twilight.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
is my demo...I really must take it over to Ed's and do something with it, and at least a dozen others...I just lost touch with my original music for a little while, with a couple of exceptions, but last week I started pulling out more of it again.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0tnyUgEeyoA/UYpdb2WWeGI/AAAAAAAAKdM/Y0GHyClfcf8/s1600/daisy+April+002.JPG" imageanchor="1" &gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0tnyUgEeyoA/UYpdb2WWeGI/AAAAAAAAKdM/Y0GHyClfcf8/s320/daisy+April+002.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Now here's the thing: when I wrote "Just an Illusion" for example, sometimes you don't want the situation to exist, and you're miserable (this was three years ago?) and then you hit upon something to say, and it writes itself...and you feel empowered, right? But then you have to accept that things are as they are...and so, songs are a way of dealing with reality, emotional realities that are complex for feeling people. (ooh, I'm getting a blog here! Ha! It's been a while since I updated.) So you have the song...and over time, you heal...and you have the song, and it gives you back the power you lost. So actually, if your heart's breaking, the song's a pretty good way of dealing with things, for that reason: it's a coming to terms. Probably "easier" if it's someone else's situation and you pour your empathy into it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This one started with a desire to write The Marc Kane something with great, more personal and fitting lyrics, while listening to her play "Still The Same" by Bob Seger.  Glorifying the cold-hearted gambler in the song just didn't feel right for her fresh, sweet voice, so I took some of her words (talking about her struggle years ago with anorexia, and what she learned from it about moving on) and paired it with some of the chords in "Same."  As the song wrote itself, I rhymed "ape" with "escape" uncertainly; it had some logic to it, a song about mimicking love or actually living up to it.  Then my friend DJE3, over at Underground Masters, had said something about "involution" preceding "evolution" and while I've been through these strange processes in my life, I was shaking off the hangover from a deeply disappointing situation that really took me off my game.  So "Evolution" was triggered by "ape" and now the song had a lyrical theme to carry itself all the way through!  The apes and bananas thing leaped out of my subconscious and made me laugh: "go bananas, throw bananas...slip on a peel" ! But I kept it, because it gave the song an originality and humanity with which I couldn't part.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now here's the next step, two weeks later..before the study recording.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/4W8CC8hETaE" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I hope it's a lot of fun for you to hear, and maybe you'll feel some inspiration, at least, the creative feeling will manifest itself in your life and whatever you do, however you live it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Peace!                 Be Chill, Cease ill &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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--&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://nwidget.networkedblogs.com/getnetworkwidget?bid=431684" type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BeChillCeaseIll/~4/4pMkcCB7oZY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ceaseill.blogspot.com/feeds/9201944153962228116/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=995210395573738136&amp;postID=9201944153962228116&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/995210395573738136/posts/default/9201944153962228116?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/995210395573738136/posts/default/9201944153962228116?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BeChillCeaseIll/~3/4pMkcCB7oZY/writing-song-evolution-bananas.html" title="writing a song: Evolution (Bananas)" /><author><name>cease ill</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16852602817305513997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8kYdmD_lMyU/S051V_0yXkI/AAAAAAAAAcw/tTAhx6M7wMc/S220/SDC12549.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://img.youtube.com/vi/fG-5m7WikVA/default.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ceaseill.blogspot.com/2013/05/writing-song-evolution-bananas.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEcHRHo_eyp7ImA9WhBWEk8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-995210395573738136.post-5754857023974501671</id><published>2013-04-04T03:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2013-04-05T21:20:35.443-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-04-05T21:20:35.443-07:00</app:edited><title>10 billion Death Stars and not one trip to space (or, Kaya Ba-Doom doesn't live here anymore)</title><content type="html">You see, after calling the angels again, I had an epiphany.  Now, you know we are of course fallible, all of us, and genius is more like a notion that over takes us, rather than a quantifiable, constant description.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-a3RaLIlV1IY/UU5aYdPu8yI/AAAAAAAAKUw/g6jfCU8ZBqA/s1600/Hot+Stuff+003.JPG" imageanchor="1" &gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-a3RaLIlV1IY/UU5aYdPu8yI/AAAAAAAAKUw/g6jfCU8ZBqA/s320/Hot+Stuff+003.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
So the genius was realizing I've retained this eternal love for someone named Kaya Ba-Doom; it's right there in my subconscious rendering!  And someone else came along and killed off that beloved character the January day I realized the name had been changed on her Facebook page, and cried.  The Ba-Dooms cried, because one of their band was really lost.  Glitch, huh?  I said I'd keep seeing it there til she fixed it.  "That's the spirit" she assured me. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
 But for all the crappiness before mixed in with the amazing cheer and politeness (you see in in summer and September so well, like people often are at the dating phase, where as Chris Rock points out, you don't meet the real person), I realize it was Angela's drawings, and songs posted for everyone, and characters from stories, and a dating self, all put together to lure me in, that was the illusion I loved!&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bYQ1sVhEl1M/UM7eVvLGwjI/AAAAAAAAJTg/6w_WsTMSbeY/s1600/Kaya+005.JPG" imageanchor="1" &gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bYQ1sVhEl1M/UM7eVvLGwjI/AAAAAAAAJTg/6w_WsTMSbeY/s320/Kaya+005.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I really had a hard time picturing a real person cavorting with us for some weeks, till we got the cute curly haired picture with the very first true smile, though I'd drawn her many many times.  But I might as well quit ringing that doorbell.  I meant no insincerity, but Kaya Ba-Doom doesn't live there anymore.   &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-N4GdXWuvkGU/UNMEDaY5vWI/AAAAAAAAJW8/QWTCtHl5Bbg/s1600/Gonna+B+Alright+006.JPG" imageanchor="1" &gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-N4GdXWuvkGU/UNMEDaY5vWI/AAAAAAAAJW8/QWTCtHl5Bbg/s320/Gonna+B+Alright+006.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Mark Hamill's blown up the Death Star 10 billion times around the world, yet not once did he fly to space.  Don't ask Adam West to climb any walls with his Batarang for you.  When the actress leaves the role, sometimes the dear character's killed off. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now, actor and role can become one, in love, and life, but if the two part, it's the performance you love, that captivates you.  If they don't stay merged as one, your undying devotion remains to a story, and it's so clear now who it is I've been quoting, putting together with all the fun we have here and a few carefully selected songs and a certain energy that comes in reflection as we are siphoned, for whatever purpose, we givers.   When your role is done, your actor, too, will walk away.  I am just a season past proper cancelling but it's best to end it with that one more message left in primordial state, rather than thinking there's ever any real last word said.  &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nQW5hoo_-oA/UNV6YgNd6UI/AAAAAAAAJbc/J3dhyGCaAfI/s1600/Our+Ba-Doom+Guidance+013.JPG" imageanchor="1" &gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nQW5hoo_-oA/UNV6YgNd6UI/AAAAAAAAJbc/J3dhyGCaAfI/s320/Our+Ba-Doom+Guidance+013.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If you resign yourself to the fact that, with a loved one, there's only the penultimate performance and the end is merely suggested in fading footlights, then the character you love can begin to live forever...and the actress can just go home until her next role...maybe as an emotionless, vengeance driven type who savors, say, taking the available friend of her ex-love to use and hurt next, as though to make a point about being out of control.  It's simply reactionary, requiring a system, holistic, to rebel against.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
  If only I had shared that line about the departure of Kaya Ba-Doom from my show...but it's time to stop asking Mark Hamill to fly the X-Wing.  Better to know I always had one last line and save it...the insight's already well known to the bad actress...relinquish mourning the separation of fact and fiction, see it for what it is...and at curtains, simply enjoy the walk home.&lt;div id='networkedblogs_nwidget_container' style='height:360px;padding-top:10px;'&gt;&lt;div id='networkedblogs_nwidget_above'&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id='networkedblogs_nwidget_widget' style="border:1px solid #D1D7DF;background-color:#F5F6F9;margin:0px auto;"&gt;&lt;div id="networkedblogs_nwidget_logo" style="padding:1px;margin:0px;background-color:#edeff4;text-align:center;height:21px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://networkedblogs.com/" target="_blank" title="NetworkedBlogs"&gt;&lt;img style="border: none;" src="http://static.networkedblogs.com/static/images/logo_small.png" title="NetworkedBlogs"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="networkedblogs_nwidget_body" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="networkedblogs_nwidget_follow" style="padding:5px;"&gt;&lt;a style="display:block;line-height:100%;width:90px;margin:0px auto;padding:4px 8px;text-align:center;background-color:#3b5998;border:1px solid #D9DFEA;border-bottom-color:#0e1f5b;border-right-color:#0e1f5b;color:#FFFFFF;font-family:'lucida grande',tahoma,verdana,arial,sans-serif;font-size:11px;text-decoration:none;" href="http://networkedblogs.com/blog/bechillceaseill/?ahash=1f1c48b25a2650320e211f798884c864"&gt;Follow this blog&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id='networkedblogs_nwidget_below'&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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I don’t understand, without you, why one day while alone in Italy, you realized what you had missed, and found the courage to tell us this was so. To have the friendship we had, it was never necessary for you to say so, and by now you know why I offered to explore such things day by day, even as I relented and rushed to join you in promises beautiful to say.   But beautiful, they are, and I do not blame you for making them.   If you never meant them, I was completely fooled, because to this day I believe they were spoken from your heart, and a desire by your free will to give yourself all the loving and friendship and aid in your goals you would ever need---and a chance to share them, too, challenges and all (for they are, sometimes, challenging, but worth it!).  Maybe not everything you said was true, but I have lied and apologized, myself, because the intention to be true gives strength.&lt;br /&gt;
As I have found in life with a wise and understanding lover, inspired promises become more beautiful when they have survived real life, and only from free will, which belongs to each of us, to act upon our personal truth.  No anger, embarrassment, or fear need freeze an open heart from giving that truth to others, nor will any secret do better than steal us to sleep---and by erasing risk that we be known, isolate our happiness, on a road that is, in spirit, always walked alone, except where we choose to share it.  If you let us know you better than people there, you know you could tell us all along what happens in your heart, and not even disappointment, which came to our home anyway, would’ve made us try to force your wishes.  That is still why I have said so little.  If by your wishes I say nothing more---for a couple of months, or not at all---it’s not because I never cared.  I did and do, without begging anything you do not find willing to give.&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MVqJrG4nO2Q/UVLVv4xzpNI/AAAAAAAAKVY/8fmP9Oarqz8/s1600/2057_1021696265941_5364_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" &gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MVqJrG4nO2Q/UVLVv4xzpNI/AAAAAAAAKVY/8fmP9Oarqz8/s320/2057_1021696265941_5364_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I wondered why, just January 25th, you said we two were what you needed to be happy, which was either too much to say, or you have not been very happy since.  We found a way to put together a living again after being so sad and impeded by winter, as we always have, even with every dream alive, and are glad for the changes, even when we realized we must make them with only us two.  I am sure you have had some fun, and if I didn’t want you to have fun, I would never have agreed you would love California, nor ever loved you.   &lt;br /&gt;
Your companionship, and the offer of mine and Angela’s, was always the treasure greater than anything bought or sold.  My trust was born in the light of your sweetness, and the feeling that living my life true to my heart brought you gladness and even daring.  Those things were as unexpected as your absence, and all this experience is a gift for the growth of awareness---mine, yours, and kind and true Angela’s.&lt;br /&gt;
If you would not be so afraid of your feelings, of letting someone close to you when they sincerely care, more compassionate ears could not be found.  Control over you was never the goal for me, though, and only control over myself---and the need for sincerity, seriousness, and emptiness--- makes it necessary to keep my freely given words to you, of which you have so many.  Guilt is not greater than the inspiration of caring, but only life experience, and not even the greatest of words of a heart more noble than mine will bless you with understanding until you discover it inside yourself.&lt;br /&gt;
I don’t need you to say you love us anymore if you do not know.  The anger and sadness from not hearing from you anymore fades each time, as the desire for anything you do not truly want is laid to rest.   Forgive me the impatience that led me to share these words; to repeat the same thing over and over and expect a different result each time is the very definition of insanity.  After having felt so very loved by you, I will not harass you, or reduce the messages you said made you so very happy each time to bitter and unwanted manipulations.  I am sorry the urge to spend time with you, even this way, is still this strong, but I mean no harm.  I think the power of secrecy versus the power of sharing is yours to weigh, and there comes a time when any case must rest.  I leave you to your own deliberation.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I think, in Italy, you had a chance to be alone (and care for the animals) and find what you thought you wanted.  I cannot run to questions of what happened as distractions from the ways I should dedicate myself to improvement, and they are really more important to you than me, for what they tell you of your inner self.  My own needs, I can fold up into my own life, as I’ve tried for two weeks.  We felt you drawing your energies away from our lives, and while this was so very sad and against all my stubborn willfulness, they are yours of course, and you are young, even younger than I, who still senses a full life ahead.  As always, I truly wish you the best, and mean no harm by this hour spent with myself and the part of you I feel still inside of me.  It was harder not to judge you in your angry silence than it would’ve been to not judge your sincerely shared words.  Times of judgment came and passed, for who can live that way?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
However sincere my disappointments, you gave us the beginnings of a love and acceptance beyond compare, transcending whatever we might still have had to make in common from time together.  I think someone will take up those beginnings some day, if you cannot, and such love, while a great risk to the heart, I don’t think is crazy.   I was very in love with what I had to give, as well as to whom I gave it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The words were sent out of respect for what we have been and whoever we are, and the silence I offer until you reply is from that same respect, I promise.  If it seems like a lot---and even over the Internet, we made lots of enjoyable memories, months of which are still bound in a book signed to you (and all of which is saved), along with the other book of stories you inspired---it’s for a farewell I never desired, to gifts that came so naturally from me to you, in whom I must have found something beautiful indeed, even as once you showed me how beautiful we are, too.  Whether that’s something over for this lifetime, or something you may find in opening day by day to a new beginning in our friendship, thank you for inspiring me to share.  When I said you were my world, it was true—sharing our true selves with you has given us something to share with the world, and I’m unafraid what they think, and overwhelmed by who it may yet still move to live life with love, daring, and laughter.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
 I don’t demand or expect anything you promised before.  You know, free of the intensity of those things that seemed so close by your design, we will listen without judgment.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
*What do you think?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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