She Kissed The Sky

A boy who just can't seem to get anything right in life meets a girl that will change the choices he makes, for better or for worse.

She Kissed the Sky

I

Sometimes I hear a voice. A voice that, even for myself knowing who I am today, acquiesce its presence. One with a soft and fervent embrace, mind you. I tossed and turned that night; not because of the voice, but how it suddenly became more vivid in this thing we call ears. Like a soprano that seems to flutter the words into a tangible essence that even the deaf can appreciate. Every word, every syllable, every letter: they become part of an image; an image that was supposed to be shattered and forgotten. Those shattered pieces would then be recycled somewhere in upstate New York (which is sure as hell far enough away from me) and some other schmuck would take it. Let him (or her) have it. Saying those things, I woke up. I was breathing abnormally; like I finished a marathon but I had smoked a pack of Camels subsequently afterwards. D****t I hate that voice. Her voice. Because nobody seems to cry just like you did.

II

        “Are you ready yet?” She screamed. She was rushing around the house; randomly picking things up that we may have needed and replacing them with things that could also work, but didn’t make any sense given the first choice. My example: a flashlight versus a mag flashlight. Which is better? If you were to ask someone that worked in the coalmines all of their life, they probably would have said the latter. Or maybe both, I’m not entirely sure but what I do know is neither one of us were working in the goddamn coalmines.

Is ‘are you ready yet’ your phrase for the day? I said to myself. But of course, I didn’t say that to her. I just smiled back and told her “Yes babe, I’m ready.”

Unlike me however, she spoke out loud the thing she was thinking that I just couldn’t attempt to do at that time of our lives.

        “Are you done just standing there?” She would say, as she was filling her purse with random perfume fragments that made me wonder was she ready to go with me or ready to go to meet Brad Pitt. Oh well. It still doesn’t change the fact of what happened that night; that sound she made, but I still think about it from time to time.

        When she was ready to leave the house, we would usually arrive late. By late I mean the kiddos were already digging their faces in the chocolate that came out of the esophagus of the poor b*****d piñata. When we did so, we acted like it was their fault, and it was something I always hated about her. She would elbow me in the ribs, us just standing there at the front door, and that’s when I knew playing nice guy needed to stop. Now was the time to play ‘Who the f**k do you think you are?’ Surprisingly, it worked.

        The WTF are you (that’s what I’ll call it from here on) act didn’t actually happen until several years until one day, suddenly I had no wife. Before I get into that though, I guess it’s only fair to uncover who she really was and how we met. My editor keeps telling me the general populace loves a romance novel so I guess I’ll try makin it that way (though I’m no romantic and excuse me for the typos). Bunch of bullshit if you ask me but she won’t publish my story until there’s a connection; that’s what she called it. She also told me to tone down on the language, said I’d lose customer base. I do this for Caro so the editor can kiss my a*s, I’m writing what I want. So strap your seat belts; I’m driving this bus and I don’t have license.

It was 2006, and we were only juniors in high school. Before I go on, I must assure you that I am pretty much a loser. Yes, a loser. The problem is explaining just what exactly a ‘loser’ is to certain people. A loser in my book is a f**k up. Yea and you read that right also. I was a f**k up. A loser isn’t the commonly misconceived image of some white a*****e with a butt load of pimples on his face and who is slightly obese, sitting on the computer and figuring out the next programming code god. To me, that’s actually someone who’s a winner. The losers are the thugs, the thieves, the drunkards, and the w****s. That’s the losers, because nobody ever wanted us no matter how hard we tried. Well, I wasn’t a thug, but I’ll be a lie if I wasn’t fucked up and starting fights and stealing s**t by the age of 15. For some reason after knowing all that, she fell for me and of course, I fell for her.

       

       We was 16 (or maybe 17, I can’t remember) and I had just gotten kicked out of our prom for getting drunk and spiking the punch while ‘Slow Jamz’ was playing. Not that I had a date or anything, so it wasn’t that much of a bummer, but it sucked because that was my alcohol I spiked the punch with. All gone down the drain with futile effort. Well, I was sitting on a bench nearby the gym we had at the prom, smoking a cigarette I stole from Mr. Griffith’s car early that day. They were Marlboro Ultra Lights if I recall correctly, though something like that I can still remember 20 years later is strange even for me but hey, they weren’t that bad! It’s actually what I smoke now; though I’ve cut back to only a pack a week compared to the 2 packs a day I used to smoke back then.

       She came running out of the gymnasium balling in that white dress of hers and she tripped and fell. I heard it and naturally got off of my a*s and ran to her and helped her back up. She was reluctant at first, possibly even drunk off the punch I spiked earlier, but eventually let me assist in helping her up. What happened next happened fast.  She slapped me. Yes, she slapped me. And hard.

       

        “Why are all you men such a******s!” She screamed.

Her eyes were a bit glazed and she was crying as she said those sobbed words to me. I’m not naturally good with talking to women so when I said nothing back, she slapped me again. She tried another time and I caught her hand by the wrist inches away from my rosy red cheeks. We stood stagnated that way for what seemed like hours but eventually, I loosened my grip and she brought her arm back down. Now you would think by reading this that I made the first move; an impulsive kiss on the lips for no reason and we lived happily ever after. No, not even close. What she did was use the other hand and slapped me again. She was still crying and calling us guys a******s and I just turned away and lit up another cigarette and kept it moving. At that age I’ve already knew what a woman felt like and I liked it a lot, but I wasn’t gonna be a chum for it. Nope. I have two hands for that miss, thank you very much.

        I was minding my own when I heard her running after me. I’ll be the first one to tell you I was ready to give this girl a hook to the face if she tried hitting me again. Pops always told me the liberal media says never hit a girl, but if you don’t defend yourself from them, then you’re the girl. Made sense to me so I turned around quick, stumbling a bit but my fist were balled and ready to give a nasty shiner to whatever ended up crashing into them. She stopped in her tracks and looked at me, eyes wide and mouth slightly open like she seen a f****n ghost or something. My cigarette was in my mouth and the smoke was getting in my eyes and it started to burn like hell so I screamed and threw the son of b***h in the grass, the butt sticking out like a w***e off a Las Vegas Broadway strip. I was rubbing my right eye where most the smoke crept into when I heard laughing. Now I was a funny guy.

        “What the f**k is so funny?” I said, rubbing my eyes frantically with the sleeve of my shirt. God it burned. I must have said that out loud too because she was laughing even harder now.

“Whatever man, I’m out of here. Do yourself a favor and see a shrink why don't ya?. This prom is lame as hell any damn ways.” I started walking away again but what she said next surprised me.

“Well maybe I should.” She said, still laughing. “You know, make sure you put that cancer stick back in your mouth.” She still had tears in her eyes but it wouldn’t really take Dr. Phil to tell you that these new tears were good. They were happy tears. Except mine of course, because my right eye really did hurt like hell. And that’s how I met Caro.

III

        Me and Caro actually didn’t start dating until our last year of school. Well, her last year because I never finished. I got kicked out. But it didn’t really bother me much. While everyone was prepping for the SAT or the ACT, I was getting drunk off the same s**t, and smoking the same garbage a*s weed. Started selling it when I decided I really didn’t like getting high and that for some reason or another shocked some people. I get way to paranoid off of it and it does more harm than good. I mean I guess I can say the same thing about drinking but at least when I’m drunk I don’t have that feeling that everybody’s watching me. Hell, when I’m drunk, I know everybody’s watching me and I really don’t give a s**t if they are or aren’t.

        Well one day, I was smashed off my pops’ Kentucky sour mash and spent half the day just stumbling throughout the school lost as a rabbit’s a*s inside a snake hole when I got to the cafeteria. It was the 2nd quarter if I recall correctly but I wasn’t supposed to be there until the last quarter but when you simply don’t care…well, you simply don’t care. Caro claims that she was the one that first saw me looking dumbfounded but I’m not really sure it matters at this point. What matters is that we did bump into each other and she said everyone at her table could smell the bourbon on me.

        “Are you lost?” She said, smiling. Now I know I was drunk but looking at her then versus when I first seen her that night at prom, what I was looking at in that precise moment was something comparable to a goddess. Her hair was jet black but it was bleached at the ends with a shine to it that made leather look like a knockoff. Her eyes were grayish blue but her skin was tanned a light brown; ‘morena’ is what they call em I think. Or maybe not cause she didn’t really look Hispanic to me. She didn’t wear any makeup nor had any lipstick but she didn’t need it. Hoop earrings and one diamond piercing on the outside of her nose were prominently noticeable. I knew she wasn’t white but I really didn’t know what she was (and later on she would tell me neither did she). She was sitting with 4 other girls that I didn’t care much for. One of them I actually sold weed to a couple of times on random occasions which I kind of disliked. Not sure why but girls who smoke just turn me off. Yea yea, everybody does it but a guy can’t have his own expectations anymore? That’s when I heard that same girl whisper something so obviously loud that it was expected I had to hear it in front of Caro. He looks drunk as f**k.

        “Actually, I am drunk. And you look like s**t.” I said and everyone at the table just stared at me, jaws dropping to the ground. Everyone but Caro. She laughed and I smiled.

       

“So did you ever talk to that shrink I was telling you to go see?” I asked. Caro just kind of rolled her eyes.

“No, I haven’t. Been busying studying.” To justify this, she held up a book on the table she had in front of her: “Mastering the SAT and Then Mastering College” I think it was called.

“Have you finally stopped with the cancer stick sessions?” she asked playfully, grinning. I noticed she had one small dimple on the left side of her cheek when she grinned that way. I ignored that last statement she made. Truth was, I haven’t given up the cancer sticks but when you're young and could drink as much as I did, you pretty much didn’t care about the health risk. She wasn’t going to know (just as much as I did at the time) that I’d finally attempt to give those b******s up when she passed away though.

“You're going to college?” I said. A couple of her friends just stopped eating and chuckled at that. “Well duh.” She told me. “Aren’t you?” More laughs from that one also. I didn’t get it. Caro looked at me then in a way that said I know you’re not. All of them knew I wasn’t. Maybe it was me but I thought that she in a way felt sorry for me then.

“Nah, I’ll join the military or fix cars with my dad or something. You see how drunk I am don’t you? I’ll be brain dead my first semester at University Lamesville.”

“You’re the one who’s lame.” One of her friends said. “Go away somewhere. You’re annoying.”

“Yea I’ll remember that the next time you ask for another 8th after your done getting ran on by the whole football team you b***h.”

That’s when I walked away. I don’t know if they was still looking at me or not but I didn’t care. Probably because as I got to the cafeteria exit, I heard What did you call her? From behind me. I turned around and some black kid that had to be 6’2 something and jacked like Rampage Jackson was almost to my face. I’m only 5’8 (doctor said I might have been 5’9 if I didn’t pick up the cigarettes at 11) but I was fairly in shape for my size I think. I’ve seen him around somewhere and everyone knew him. He was wearing a stupid jockey coat and he played for our football team. I hated him. Hated the whole team actually. Not saying I don’t like sports or anything but I just hated people like that. Used their genetics or athletic abilities to get on top when in reality, nobody would have given a rats piss otherwise in another country other than ours. I know because most of the people I did associate with weren’t American. But again, what do I know.

I just stood there staring at him, thinking how on earth could his mom able to give birth to something that big when I saw a couple of more guys wearing those coats starting to come toward me as well. “Man our football team sucks. I called her a b***h and I’ll call you that too. Matter of fact, I got a better idea”-

Without thinking (who ever does when they're drunk), I ran to someone’s lunch table, smacked off all the s**t on it, jumped on top and yelled at the top of my lungs that the entire school was nothing more than a big female dog. I looked at the people sitting at the table, how their faces went pale. “Sorry about that guys.” I said and walked past the football team. “I f*****g quit school.” That was the last thing anyone heard me say. It’s also the last thing I said to the Dean before I got expelled.

IV

“Jesus Christ son.” Mr. Griffith just sat there marveling at what the BAC spat back at us after I was forced to blow in it. “Son, if this thing is anywhere near being right, it’s a wonder your still able to walk around and speak.”

“What's that supposed to mean? Are you saying I’m stupid or something?”

Mr. Griffith and Officer Anderson (the school deputy, who to me, was actually kind of a nice guy) just looked at each other and then back to me. Officer Anderson leans over the desk and says

“No John, we’re not saying that. What we’re saying is how can you have this much tolerance to alcohol at such a young age. I can’t even drink that much without passing out. Hell, most of the alcoholics in town can’t even drink that much.”

“Oh. Then I don’t know. Guess I get it from my dad or something. Can I go back to class now or what?”

“John” Mr. Griffith said. “You haven’t been going to class for three goddamn years son. I hate to do this but we have to expel you for this.”

I should have asked for some type of bargain but I didn’t. Did what I probably would have done even if there was a way to salvage my high school career. In my mind it really didn’t matter then. My dad was an ex-marine and I had an uncle that wouldn’t shut up about making me go into the air force, the branch that he was currently serving in, so there was that I guess. I think you needed a diploma at least but if push came to shove I’d just get my GED later somewhere. With that poorly strategized plan in mind, I told Officer Anderson and the Dean I didn’t want to be here anymore any damn ways.

“I f*****g quit”.

So, I did. I really wasn’t thinking about Caro at the time and why would I? I didn’t like who I was becoming so why would she?

V

        My dad was pretty pissed that he had to leave his job to pick me up from school but I told him I’d just walk home. God knows he needed every hour he could get since moms passed away but he wasn’t having any of that. Just told me to ‘shut the f**k up and don’t be trying to start any fights’. That was good enough for me. I was so fucked up that they wouldn’t let me sit in the front office because I kept making fun of the staff and the kids who did their jobs so they put me in the front of the school with Officer Anderson watching nearby to make sure I didn’t get hit by a bus or something. I was bored so I fell asleep on the bench like a bum when I felt someone poking or touching me with something. I had my fist balled already when I heard that voice again.

All men are a******s. It was her.

            “What is wrong with you?” She said standing above me. Looking at her from that angle, she really was some kind of goddess. She was by herself this time.

           

“What's wrong with you?” I said right back and then she did it again. She slapped me. Unlike last time, I didn’t mind it as much.

“Been hit harder.” I said, rubbing the place she had just made contact with and I know what you’re thinking. What an a*****e right? What woman in her half of a right mind would be with someone like that guy? Well, Caro, that’s who but I didn’t know that then. All I knew was I wasn’t probably ever going to see her again, nor did I care that much at the time. All I cared about was how much longer was pops going to be: he knew today was 50 cent wings night at Al’s Pub and Chickens down by the river next to where he worked. Things changed though when I saw the tears. Not a lot, but enough to see that whatever it was I did (or didn’t do for that matter) really did affect her in some way.

           “Hey, why are you crying? I’m just waiting on my dad to pick me up so what’s the big deal?” It was all I could really say in the state that I was in.; tired, sleepy, and starting to understand that tomorrow was going to be one hell of a hangover. She stood there looking at me with eyes that up to this day, I cannot yet know how to truly comprehend. I’m not sure she did either because she started to turn away and that’s when I reached out and grabbed her hand.

“Hey! You just slap me and walk away? I got Officer Anderson over there one call away from throwing me in jail and you just walk away?”

“I don’t know why I even came out here.” She said. Without thinking, the words that came out of my mouth would later change the course of my life. I was drunk, I was young, and God was I stupid but I’ll be damned if it wasn’t the best thing that would ever happen to me.

“I don’t want this to be the last time I see you.” I said. And luckily for me, it wasn’t.

           I probably should have mentioned this a little earlier but our first encounter we had outside the prom gymnasium was something we both said we would tell no one. She led me to her car you see, and that’s when we made out for what I would say was maybe about 20 minutes or so. A lot of my friends would probably call me a p***y because I never made the next move to get off of 1st base but at that time, I didn’t think I needed to. Of course I would smack myself getting drunk off Yack later for not attempting, but like I said: I know how it feels like and I’m not really a chump for that kinda thing. I wouldn’t smack myself for any girl for that matter but there was something about Caro that even 20 years later as I write this story for her, I have and probably never will experience with another woman again in my life. I’ve kissed enough of em to know and she was different. A little too different if we’re gonna be blunt about it.

After we made out, she asked if I was okay and I said yea and asked her the same thing and she said yea and kissed me again before saying she had to get back to prom because her friends were probably worried about her. I never asked her if she had a boyfriend or not because I was sure whatever happened that night would be the end of the whole mess and we’d never see each other again. But we did see each other; in the halls, the stadium during the prep rally, and even in a class once. Never said two s***s to her and I thought that’s how she wanted it to be. Until that moment outside of the school when I got expelled.

Fast forwarding a bit, she gave me her number that day before she went back inside the school. How they let her out is still to this day a mystery to me but I held unto that number though. Even when my dad was beating my a*s I still smiled because… well, I guess I finally had someone to talk to now. Better than with the guys I was hanging with in those days. I knew I was a fool though because the time did come that I had a decision to make in my life. If you think it was college, well, you really should probably lay off all of the romantic and optimistic stuff. The decision I made left Caro in a fury.

           �"“You’re going? You're seriously f*****g going John? We’re in a f*****g war right now! Are you out of your mind?”

“Maybe, but I’m going. I’m sorry but I have to Caro. Ain’t nothing here for a guy like me. I’mma drunk and I’mma”�"

“Well f*****g stop!” She wailed. “You’re so much better than this! I don’t care if nobody else sees it or not; not even if it’s you! But I see it John! There can be another way besides this.”

Now…those tears I was telling you about during prom? Yea, well they was really like the calm before the storm when I saw the tears that came when I told her I was going into the Marines. It had been barely two years since the time I got kicked out of school and she was damn near a junior in college already. She was barely there but the credits she received in high school contributed to her degree you see. Yep, Caro was a smart one that’s for sure. Wanted to be a shrink as a matter of fact; it’s something I think about when I can’t sleep at night actually, which happens a lot these days. Days like the ones that has me writing this story for her. So let me stop being all sentimental and continue on.

So I ended up joining the good ol Uncle Sam's Forgotten Children Club and for a while, it wasn’t that bad. All I had to do was just follow orders until they was giving me some of those orders to boss the boots around with. I think I was pretty good at it�"drunk or not�" and we really don’t have to go through that again do we? Tuns Tavern, 1775. I pretty much had found my gun club. With a check coming in every 1st and the 15th, I’d get smashed every weekend. It shouldn’t be a surprise that the military hated me but loved how I did things. Hell, it wasn’t a thing to see us out on Myrtle Beach all getting smashed cause my guys did what they were supposed to do.

Well okay, I’ll admit maybe I should have gotten a couple of NJP’s for how I ran things but not like that a*****e Keller; our company gunny. That son of a b***h should have been hanged if it was up to me given some of the things that he did. Heard he forced a single poor kid to drink a whole bottle of Mineral Oil and put the rest of his three roommates into a bathroom where the oil drinker shat his guts out. The gunny called this punishment ‘bullshit work ethic backfire’. That was a little too extreme for me but what the hell, it was the military so I never said anything.

I got Generally Discharged in 2011, right before we were supposed to be kicking Afghanistan’s a*s (for God knows why) after we got done kicking Iraq’s a*s which was before we kicked Afghanistan’s a*s prior to that. War is pretty silly sometimes I'll admit. Half of us didn't even know what we were fighting for in those days. Many guys were like me: they had no other choice; because of that, getting along with guys like that wasn't hard at all. In fact, some of my best friends were from the service, some of them are still in actually, unlike me.

I had gotten drunk in Okinawa on the weekend and smacked the hell out of a second lieutenant  at a bar who was talking s**t after a couple of drinks, saying he was going to take my guys and kick a*s and take names out off in the AO. Now look, I’m not the best of guy's, a loser if you recall, but I wasn’t going to let some college dickface use my men as bragging rights so he can get a golden reef hopefully drop kicked into his chest. After I smacked him, the following Monday was just like Mr. Griffith all over again, except now there were like 6 Mr. Griffiths, this time both enlisted and commissioned.

“Cpl Canton, we hate to let you go after damn near 4 years of excellent service but we at the board however, are not in favor to give you an Other Than Honorable Discharge given the circumstances. We and your lawyer Captain Franks have agreed to an ultimatum that will allow you to separate with an General Under Honorable Discharge given your service with a few minor setbacks. Any violations from this date until discharge will result in an Other Than Honorable however. Do you understand Cpl Canton?”

“Suck a f****n dick.”

And like that, I gotta OTH but got it changed after two years of fighting the VA with the DAV on my side. It was pops’ idea after calling me a moron a million times before telling him I’d go and try to get it upgraded so he'd shut up about it already. Really wasn’t as hard as I thought it’d be honestly, but I gotta give my man Officer Rick props though. If it wasn’t for him I would have just taken the OTH and moved on with it. My dad still owned the garage at the time and my uncle Ross still had civilian jobs lined up for anyone who wasn’t a felon and without a BCD (Big Chicken Dinner aka Bad Conduct) or lower. Uncle Ross flew down to Indiana in the north side and simply asked me-

“What you want Nephew moving forward? I might be able to get you in as a government employee. You’d start low, but if you prove yourself, I think you could break through.”

“Nah, I’ll pass Unc, all that fancy dressing up aint for me.” The way I said it might have been taken as pervasive, but it wasn’t to me. I drank from a 40 oz and Uncle Ross was drinking a glass of scotch on the rocks. Uncle Ross takes a sip and leans over slowly, his eyes were almost plaintive in a creepy way.

“Do you have any idea what you’re saying right now? You’re assuming every government employee has to wear a suit John. Let’s be real here.”

“Look, I said I don’t want it.” I took a swig of the Budweiser in my hand, wiped my mouth with the sleeve of my shirt. Uncle Ross sat still with the same expression on his face.

“Thanks but no thanks. I don’t want nothing to do with the f****n government anymore. Give it to somebody else. Look, I think all I’m really looking for right now is”�"

�"I paused for a moment in respite. I knew a job wouldn’t take everything away but it could have been a start for me. Nevertheless, it was something I just couldn’t see myself doing.  My dad was with us but went to take a piss. I was he would of held it in because I honestly didn’t know how to answer Uncle Ross's question. I wanted to say money but that wasn’t it. Wasn’t even close; even at 24 I knew better.

           “I guess Uncle, I Just want happiness man.” That’s all I could think of to say' happiness. Even though I didn’t even know what it meant myself, it’s what I said to him. It would also be the last thing I said to him. Sometime later that night, Uncle Ross died of a heart attack in his sleep on our couch upstairs. He was only 62 years old but the doctors said his lifestyle should have seen to it earlier. That’s up to you to decide but something I said caused it, I’m sure of it. At his wake, I told him I was sorry as he sat in his casket openly. I said it in a whisper.

           After the funeral, me and pops lived with each other for an additional two years before she came out of nowhere like she always did. Pops handled the money but he showed me all of the jobs he trusted only to the guys who were 4 year certified and I loved my pops for that. Not sure why he thought I could do a good job with things delicate such as auto repair, but he did. I’m talking like rear axle changes, minor collision work, paint touch ups, and sometimes transmission disseminations which f*****g suck if I can say that.

           

“My dad didn’t give a rats a*s about my work either John, and you're no different. But I know you got what it takes.” Pops said one day at the shop.

It was a dirty job if I do say so myself: water pump off a ’98 Grand Am needed replacing along with a new timing chain. When he told me that, grease all over his hands and smeared over his face with his goggles on and me beside him handing him whatever he needed, the thought of ‘like father like son’ popped into my mind; and with that, the feeling of actually being loved. And I never let him down. I fucked up Mr. Rogers’s car one time though and that got me two weeks of no pay plus overtime (pops’ way of teaching me not to screw up) but of course I did it with no complaints. That’s my dad d****t. Plus he was paying my bills and we’d have a hell of a time drinking together. I’d tell em about Fallujah and he’d tell me about how lame Desert Storm was but how Vietnam should have put the President in jail. It was great. Not the wars, but the fact me and pops were getting along so much. He never saw me as a loser I’ll tell you that folks. He wanted me to take over his mechanic business but I think he knew I was made for better because….

…excuse me…

…wiping these damned tears.

I miss you pops….

V

           Pops passed in 2013 and that’s around the same time I met Caro again. Of course she looked immaculate like she always did but we were grown now so maybe I thought it was my dick just telling me that. Where I met her? It was at pops funeral. I had two jobs to do and of course I worked em, so I showed up to my dad’s funeral in greasy slacks that reeked of gasoline and ethanol. Pops surprisingly had a lot of people I’ve never seen in my life attend his service. People in the military, people that got out of the military and still worked for the government, people that got out and went to college and owned firms, people who just got kicked out and stop giving a s**t; mostly vets I guess. ‘Sorry for your loss’ was what most people kept telling me and it was beginning to become the norm when “John can I speak to you in private?” just happened to come out of nowhere behind me. The face was already in my mind before I turned around to look at the speaker. It was Caro. Now she wasn’t dressed necessarily for a funeral but compared to what I was wearing, she had me beat. Like a repeat of those years of how we met at the prom, after my speech, we ended up in her car. She had a joint rolled fatter than a Bic lighter and offered to smoke with me but I declined.

“Well I’m not getting drunk with you John. Honestly surprised you’re not drunk right now actually.”

“Don’t really need it right now. Pops left me half a cellar of bourbon to get me smashed for the rest of the life.” I paused momentarily as she tried to light her joint and I gently laid my hand on her forearm holding the lighter and pressed it slowly away from the joint. I'll reiterate this to you: I didn’t like girls who smoke. If Caro wanted to do that, fine. Just don’t ruin my image of you by doing it around me.

“Why you here Caro?” I asked. I didn’t want to bring up why she was offering me weed so I didn’t but it bothered me I’ll admit. But everybody in college is doing it! she'd probably say, which was a load of garbage so I just kept it short.

“If you’re going to be an a*****e then I don’t know why I’m here either then.”

“For what? Not letting you smoke at my dad’s funeral? Or let me guess, all men are a******s regardless of what we do right? Well I’m not your f*****g man so if you give me that excuse one more time”�" and like that, things changed for me that day like a 360 spin. That little arrow the baby with the wings swings around was going to come eventually and today was the day.

“I love you John.” She said. I could hear people talking outside but it was a different world in her car. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.

“It sounds stupid, but I can’t help it. If you're wondering, I do think about that night all the time you know. I keep thinking about it, even in college I thought about it. No matter what I did, what party I was at, what trips I would take, who I was with, it would always come back to me. I guess that's why I brought this with me; I didn't know how to tell you.”

Her eyes weren’t on the verge of tears this time, but it was evident it wouldn’t take much to tear the dam apart. Hey eyes I noticed, were blue this time. Her hair was jet black instead of how I remembered it back in high school but it was beautiful all the same. It would take maximum effort to say what I said next and I know now that my voice had to have been shaky while saying it.

“Yea? Why Caro? It was just.”�" I paused to think of the words for what was coming next but couldn’t. Tears were in my eyes this time and that surprised me because I never cried, but then again I never loved either and if this is what love felt like, I hated it and welcomed it at the same time. The autonomy of love takes over the mind though I guess. At least I think that’s what I read off a book cover somewhere.

�"“I’m a loser.”

That was what I told her. A million other things crosses my mind today about what I could have said differently but right in that moment, that was it. And the craziest part was she didn’t care. At least not then she didn’t. I didn’t fight how things took a nose dive at my pops funeral because honestly, without him, I was already starting to dread being alone with my drinking habit while keeping his shop up and running. Work. Drink. Work. Drink. Repeat. In a way, I felt a small light of hope peer a hole through my life when she told me that.

Me and Caro became a thing that day but I can’t tell you I wish it happened knowing what I know now. We had a daughter though, and we named her middle name after my pops’ because it’s what I wanted. Caro didn’t want that cause she felt it was ‘bad luck’ and I actually felt it too (but didn’t say) but she conceded anyways. Our daughter was named “Jessica ‘Raymon’ Wright”. As you can tell by the last name, me and Caro never got married but I was cool with it; only considered marriage to be for the serious of hearts. Now in the story is where I need to mention “The WTF” though. I don’t wanna, but I have too.

VI

           The “WTF”should really be called “The Gift”. Problem was, I ddin't know who or where it came from. I just knew it had somehow gotten into me or Caro. If it was from Caro, then I would have had a peace of mind. If it was from me, then I prayed I didn't get a huge sentence because you know, things got a little conspicuous with the following years as Jessica got older and when Caro passed. As time unfolded, the truth came out; neither of which I am satisfied with nor pessimistic about. Life is different for everyone I feel and I know some people have it way worse than what ended up happening to me. That’s all I can really do; live it out day by day…

VII

           WTF wasn’t something that just came out of nowhere. I started acting differently after Jessica’s 5th birthday at some other kids party that was some place down the street at the time. That was the first time I experienced it. Don’t ask me what it was exactly cause I blacked out for the most part yet it was different than being drunk and blacking out. I knew what was going on somewhat but didn’t, before Jessica ran up to me that was. Now, I’m not gonna bullshit, I’m a little shaky right now, because for one thing, it just hit me that I wanted my daughter to be nothing like me. Second thing is because I think she knew something was wrong with me and her mother when it came to this gift. I’m talking like she knew. Because that’s when my baby touched me and I saw my life flash before my eyes. I still can’t describe to you what I saw that day, but I wasn’t mentally in this world anymore. What I felt though was solace, I know that much. After what happened that day, I always used to tell my baby we was gonna move to Alaska and I meant it. I don’t know why but I just wanted to move there since then. I mean that is where I’m writing this to you guys ain’t it? If you didn’t know that, well now you know I guess.

Now, when it happened I was with Jessica sitting in one of those small plastic seats for children and as silly as it looked to others, my daughter was sitting next to me in the grass. I told her to stop being silly and sit in the chair and me on the grass but she told me that was silly. Well, I was drinking this tea someone made at the party when my body just felt unwired suddenly. That’s when I saw it. Or felt it. Or both. I realized Jessica’s little hand was wrapped around my wrist. I pointed to the sky trying to see if she saw what I was seeing; a bunch of colors dancing in the sky. All sorts of colors. Colors that swayed like an ocean and breathed like a living organism. All she did was shake her head up and down while she clenched onto my wrist. She kept shaking her head like that until I felt her hand suddenly go cold and I snapped out of it and let go of her.

If you’ve ever came to the surface of the water after being submerged for a while, that’s how I felt. I looked around and saw everybody at the party was staring at us. I looked over at Jessica and she looked back at me and gave me a kiss on the cheek. Like nothing had ever happened. Did she see what I just seen? I stared at her and she took the tea I still held in my other hand (which I forgot I even had) and took a sip. Somewhere in the background, a child was crying about chocolate cake and frosting.

Caro

I

If you couldn’t tell yet, Caro was a pretty smart girl. She ended up getting her masters in psych 3 years after I got kicked out of the Marines. I slowed down drinking tremendously during Jessica’s prominent years of preadolescence. We were doing pretty good until I broke down one day in the garage and my daughter pushed through the vertical sheets that separated the garage from the outside. I can’t forget her face either, it was just like her mother's. She just stared at me with that benign face of hers and me sitting with my fist balled up because my guard was down and that’s what I did when I got startled; I turn around with my fist ready to swing on instinct. I can’t help it. But she never felt threatened to move backwards. She just walked up to me and embraced me.

“I love you daddy. I love you like a fat kid loves ice cream.” She said, with a big smile on her face. Then she started to giggle. You couldn’t tell me back then that this would be the same Jessica that would graduate college in biology and then master in chemistry later. When she got her masters is when I was super proud. She knew the game now. I wouldn’t have known when she did get it either because shortly after Caro died I lost her to Custody five months after her funeral. It’s not like things were always bad with me though because I remember a time where it felt like we was on top of the world. So I’ll talk about that for a bit.

II

We was there for probably for about a second (on top of the world that is) and Caro definitely wasn’t shy to let it be known that this family was auspicious. Well, at least she was. Spending hundreds of dollars’ worth of champagne wasn’t nothing to her and she’d let me drink with her. Otherwise it would just be weird, her drinking alone and me watching like some dog salivating over a water bowl being filled. We would dance all night on the cruise trips we’d take and let Jessica swim and play during the day. And of course, other than the occasional champagne, all the alcohol Caro kept away from me on the trips we would take vacationing around. Taking trips was sort of a natural thing for us and I can assure you Caro was the breadwinner of the family. Otherwise, the only trips we would take would be to the local park up the street. I was pulling in maybe $40-50 thousand a year at that time. It really depended on how many customers I had. Caro on the other hand, made over 6 figures doing what she did. She worked ironically at the local VA office counseling recently separated veterans. Coincidentally, it was around the time she had just gotten promoted to GS-10 that I received a letter from the DAV encouraging me to fight the system to get my benefits back. I threw the letter in the trash.

“Well you should do it.” Caro would say every now and again. Just like how my pops did about that stupid discharge. It was honestly starting to get annoying. “You know what you did and they know it. They just want to save money John. Fight the case.”

“Yea we’ll see.” I’d tell her and if Jessica wasn’t around, would place my hands slightly above her lower back and scoot her closer to me. Then I’d tell her how glad I met her and that I loved her.

“ Aw, I love you too Mr. Procrastinator.” She’d say before pushing me away and giving me that ‘what do you want?’  type of look.

“That look isn’t fooling anybody.” I'd say and bring her back to me.

Depending how the day went (which were good mostly), I’d kiss her, and if they were really good I'd kiss her hard. Maybe a little rough but she loved it though and so did I. But of course, one night was a bit different that the others or else I wouldn’t be telling it to you. This isn’t 50 Shades after all; it’s Caro’s story. After we were done making love she brought up a bunch of random topics: prom night, when we first met, school, and then my pops funeral.

“I forget who it was that told me but when I found out.” She said. We were laying next to each other, side by side. Our faces inches apart. Some of my friends tell me their wives have s****y breath even after using mouthwash. Caro never had that problem.  

“I don’t know. I just felt for some reason that was going to be the day I was going to tell you how I felt about you. If you wasn’t drunk that was.” She was smiling I could tell despite how dark it was and I playfully gave her shoulder a push. We laughed together but I didn’t know why we were laughing or even how my father’s funeral got mixed into the conversation suddenly.

“What did they say he died of again if I can ask?”

“Heart attack.” I replied bluntly. I was starting to become uneasy. If she noticed, she didn’t seem to mind.

“And again, if I can ask, do you remember what your last words to him were?”

“Caro it’s been almost 8 years, I don’t remember.”

           

But that was a lie. I knew what me and my father had talked about the night before he passed in his sleep but I never really thought about. Never thought about it because then I started thinking about the conversation I had with Uncle Ross before he too, passed in his sleep. Maybe it was coincidence but it was just eerie to think about, even for me.

           “Was it happiness? To touch the sky right?” Caro asked. Then suddenly, that unease I felt less than a second ago intensified about 1000 knots in my heart. I wasn’t sure if who I was in the room with that night was the girl I fell in love with those years ago or something else, but I was terrified. I’m talking terrified in the sense that I thought I was gonna be the next one to die of a damn heart attack. Obviously that didn’t happen because the next thing I asked her was who the hell are you? I wanted to reach for the light on the night stand so bad but I couldn’t. I was immobilized by a wave of fear that could sink the hardiest of ships. Then I felt her, or it, scoot closer to me. I could feel her breath moving from the base of my neck and then to the other side like a lion analyzing its prey. Then she kissed me and that’s when I started seeing those lights again accompanied by lightheadedness. It was like the time Jessica held my hand at that kids birthday party. Except this time it was more vivid. So vivid that I’m able to write about it somewhat.

           

III

Mountains. I saw mountains. Beautiful landscapes with clear white as wool tops on them. Some slid down into what looked like rivers and others stood where they were, like the mountains had some kind of beret on its pointed tilt head. I could feel wind. Cold, frivolous, icy,  but pure wind. None of that air people were wheezing in and out over in LA or New York. There was no pollution and strangely enough, I doubted that human life inhabited anywhere near this wind. I turned where it was blowing, which was in one direction. It led my eyes to see a calm sea with small tides coming from its darkish blue depths. If I looked closer towards that ocean, I was somehow able to have the capability to zoom in on what looked like a small spec at first. It was as if my eyes had been infused with binoculars somehow. I’m no ophthalmologist, but having that ability was definitely not normal. As I gazed at that spec, it began to morph slowly into the figure of a man. Staring closer, this new figure of a man now appeared to be on a small fishing boat. Closer. A man on a fishing boat who was smoking a cigarette. I didn’t ask myself how someone could smoke in winds strong enough to knock an elephant down, but it didn’t matter. It felt like I was moving towards that figure now, like the wind was pushing me closer. Still staring at the man on the boat, the face of that man started to become vaguely familiar to me. Then I knew who it was. The man looked startled, looked up to the sky where I’m assuming I was and smiled and waved. I tried to lift my hand, but not to wave. I tried reaching out. Reaching closer to that man. Closer. Closer.

IV

“Are you okay?”

I was now back in the room with Caro. That feeling of being submerged I was telling you about? Now it felt like I had just came falling off  Mount Fuji, snow and all. Suddenly I could move again and I immediately reached over to my side of the bed where the lamp was and turned on the light.

          “John what’s wrong. Your sweating and breathing heavily. Did you have a nightmare or something?” I stared with a blank expression at that face. It felt like Caro, it looked like Caro, but I wasn’t sure if it was Caro. I got out of the bed, my boxers the only thing covering my body, and pointed a finger at her.

           

“What touched the sky? Why would I say that and why are we even talking about my dead a*s father?”

           Caro stayed lying there, gazing at me with those now grayish eyes of hers and her bra strap hanging off of her naked shoulder. I hate to throw this in there now but I wanted to have sex with her right then. Not make love, but go at it like two high school teens who didn’t know what the f**k they were doing. She didn’t smile and she wasn’t frowning either. She had a look of neutrality. Freaked me out a little more than what I already was but that sex drive was on full throttle. She knew how to manipulate me like that and it was a wonder Jessica was the only child we ever had.

“John.” She eventually said, still with that same neutral look. “It was just a simile.”

           “A what?” I said. She just rolled her eyes over to the TV stand and looked back my way.

           

“Nothing John. I didn’t mean to upset you. But we had that conversation 30 minutes ago and you’re just now reacting to it. You sure you’re okay?”

           “I was asleep?”

           

“Yes.” She smiled a little and patted the bed as if I were some dog. With the drive I had at that moment, I would have came over to her like one too, but the shock I was experiencing had overridden the sex by a landslide. Right now, I needed some answers. Right now, I just wanted to get the hell out of there. I put some shorts on and went downstairs. Was I asleep?

I was thinking that before I got to the kitchen, rummaged through the small drawer we kept random things in�"gum, scissors, paper clips�"and reached in the back to get my cigarettes. I put them there because I crave the b******s the most after sex, when I wake up, and before I go to sleep. I promised her I’d try to quit and I know she knew I did try but I always needed that just in case cigarette. This was one of those times. I went outside and smoked what I’d say was half a pack. After nearly giving myself nicotine poisoning, I went back upstairs and went to bed. That was the first encounter I had with the WTF thing that Caro (or me) possessed. I wouldn’t encounter it again until the day she died a year later. It didn’t occur to me then that the place I was in during the dream (if it was a dream that is) must have been where I was before she kissed me kissed me again before I fell asleep.

V

           For the most part things were good. Wasn’t great but definitely wasn’t bad. I picked up smoking again and some nights I’d pour myself a drink or two. Or three or four. We never discussed into detail what happened that night and that was okay with me because I didn’t want to know. I told her it must have been a bad dream and left it at that. Jessica was doing good in school and truthfully, was growing up too fast in my opinion. The thing I mentioned what happened at the party never happened again either, thank God. Some nights when Caro was asleep, I’d go and make those drinks I was talking about and start having irrational thoughts in my head about it.

Whatever Caro has, Jessica has. And now, you probably have it too.

The worst though was when I started trying to re-dig up that day I had with my pops because after what happened with Caro, not only do I remember it, but now I have to live with it. That’s when the drinking got worse when I thought I had buried it away…

VI

A Rerun of Pops’ Last Night

I was drunker than s**t when pops got mad at me and told me to go to college or something. I told him I didn’t want to and that I wanted to stay home with him. He then told me he was getting tired of me drinking all of his liquor and thought that I had a problem when I fired back that he was the one who introduced me to it so he must be the fucked up one. That’s when he told me at least drinking didn’t f**k up his career and next thing I know me and pops were throwing down and fighting. I don’t want people to get the wrong impression that me and my father are just a pair of drunks who knock each other’s teeth out for the hell of it because we never gotten into many physical altercations. And if you say all pops did was get drunk off his a*s all day then I’d probably have to knock you out.

           Well, after we let it all loose and blew off the steam he apologized but not before I told him sorry first. I was crying because I really did feel like a f**k up and I just wanted to make him proud of me, not to worry about the reasons I never came home some nights possibly thinking I jumped in front of a semi-truck off of 65 North. We slowed down on the drinking and he admitted he did drink often, and it was his fear that I would do the same.

           

“God has given me more than I could want. I have the shop, I have my pension, and your mother left us one last reminder of how much she loved me and you son. All I could ask for now is, what is it that you want? Because I’ll tell ya, there’s nothing quite as stressful as knowing if your kid is okay or not. Don’t worry about me, I’m doing mighty damn fine; doctor says some annoying things time to time but for the most part, I’m as healthy as an ox at my age. So John, let me help you son. What is it that John wants to do?”

           “To touch the sky. Isn’t that what they tell us in school? Be all you can be and touch the sky right?”

           

           My pops laughed at that. “I think it’s reach for the stars but close enough son. Close enough. And you’ll get there.”

           That was the last thing he told me before he cheered me one last beer, and iterated that things would be better in the morning. It’ll be better in the morning is what I tell myself on those nights out on our porch getting smashed. In the morning would be the last thing I’d think about before calling it a night. Because even as a drunk, I know it’d get better. That’s on the nights I didn’t wake Jessica up because sometimes I did that too. Stumbling back in the house, bumping into things. If not that, the distillery that poured out of my mouth when I yawned or talked…or breathed. Sometimes she’d be sitting at the kitchen table drawing or doing puzzles; other times she’d be asleep on the living room couch and I’d feel bad. Every time I’d see her, she’d always ask me the same thing. Are you done yet daddy? I wouldn’t get too close to her because of the risk of her smelling my breath but who the hell am I kidding, she knew. After this happening several times, that’s when I decided if I didn’t do it for me, I was quitting because of her, and for a time, I did. And it was good.

           

VII

Me and Caro probably had one fight that year. There could have been more but I remember this one because of the relevancy it has to her story. She had a thing going on from people at her job; a dinner thing is what she told me. I told her to have a good time and to save me some cake and that’s when things started picking up fast.

           

“We used to go on vacations all the time and now you barely walk outside to check the mail now John. I don’t get you sometimes.”

           Jessica was upstairs in her room and I’m not sure if she could hear us or not but it was possible. I didn’t argue back with Caro though. I just told her I gave up drinking, applied for that damned pension that she wanted me to get mind you, and that I was just doing the best I could do for her and our daughter.

“If that makes me boring, then nobody’s stopping you from what you want to do.” I told her.

           She just sighed, caught her breath, and walked into the living room. As she did so, she muttered something that I caught.

'Memoirs of the wife of an alcoholic. F*****g priceless'.

I stood there for a minute, soaking up what she said like a sponge. I then started getting pissed off. I felt my veins pulsating harder and face getting hot. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Closed my eyes. Opened them again.

           “You were the one who came on to me.” I said softly.

           

She was halfway out the door when she stormed in from the living room back into the kitchen and I could tell she was pissed, and I was glad.

“You know why I came on to you John? You really want to know why? Because I felt sorry for you. S-o-r-r-y. You couldn’t even get a diploma and the only thing you do is fix those stupid cars for a living! That’s all you do John! We’re barely in our thirties and you live your life like you're someone’s great grandfather for Christ sake!”

           “If this is about the dinner thing, I just don’t wanna watch a bunch of grown a*s men and women with a degree eat lobster and get tipsy off some French wine that nobody gives a s**t about. F*****g sue me.”

          “Some of them are bringing their kids John! Christ! Is that what you really think everyone in the world is like? You really have been living in that cave you call a shop. I just wanted you to get out of the house and if you did, it’d be with your”�"

�"then she abruptly stopped like a fast car right before the red light and that’s when the brakes slam down and s**t starts flying towards the front seat. And I could see it in her. For the first time since we’ve been together, I know that she really did want to get married. But she didn’t know how to say it. And it was because of me. Because of my drinking. Because of smoking. Because I'm a 'Grandpa', whatever the f**k that was supposed to mean. Whatever it was, I was tired of living like this too. Caro wasn't my girlfriend anymore, she was much more to me than that now. And I wanted the world to know it.

           “Caro. You could have just said that and I would have“�"

           “You would have what? Don’t say what I”�"

�"It would be me that cut her off this time. I grabbed her by her arms and pulled her towards me.  Our chests were touching and our faces were close enough to feel the air we inhaled in and exhaled out. Close enough for a whisper; and I stared into her eyes and she stared back into mine.

           “To marry you? Because I want to Caro. Been thinking about it for awhile now actually.  All this time I’ve just been working, and I can’t help it. It’s my dad's shop, I just can’t give it up.”

           “It’s not that John. I know how you feel about the shop and I’m sorry. I just…I don’t know.”

           “I want to marry you.”

           “John. Don’t“�"

           “No. You Don’t.” I turned my head toward the stairs with Caro still close to me. I yelled with my eyes watering a bit.

           “Jessica! You want to try some lobster tonight? I hear it’s super yummy!”

           Jessica ran out of her room a couple of seconds later and yelled back down the stairs.

“A lobster? What’s a lobster?” Lobster came out like lah-bpster.

Me and Caro laughed at that, and later that day we went to the dinner thing and you know, I was wrong about you college guys. I still think you guys in general are a bunch of stuck up pricks but some of you are alright. Best part about it was I didn’t get drunk that night. Didn’t even get tipsy. But that French wine wasn’t half bad I have to admit. Jessica on the other hand, refused to touch the lobster that I paid damn near 20 bucks and change for. She had fish sticks and fries instead.

VIII

It comes back

           

           It wasn’t until the next day did strange things start to happen, I noticed. So I lied about the WTF coming back but it was different somehow this time. Not scary or frightening or anything, but just strange. One day at work (which is next to our house where I built a small but efficient garage) Caro stood by the outside door, which I had taken the velvet covers off in the summers. I had our neighbor, Mr. Johnson’s ’06 Silverado elevated cause the son of a b***h needed a new fuel pump so I didn’t notice her. She just stood there watching me work for what had to have been a full 10 to 15 minutes when I finally turned around and saw her standing there. I jumped but my fist weren’t balled up this time.

           “D****t Caro, if you wanted to learn how to work on cars, you should of asked.” I joked. She didn’t say anything as if I were speaking a different language. Just stared at me with what looked like now big blueish gray eyes. They seemed to change within time and I wondered if she herself, noticed that. Now, the sun had already started going down so all I could see were those eyes and a side of her face.

           “Caro?” I asked. It looked like I was talking to someone wearing one of those split party masks you see in drama films. The way she was standing there, I thought she’d faint soon. Her knees were locked and it was now just starting to get into the first week of May, so it was hot. Then, I saw her lips curve slowly into a smile.

           “Caro what’s wrong?”

            When I said that, she began to walk away. I stood there dumbfounded when I heard her talking as she walked away from the garage.

           

“Dinner is ready John.” It was Caro's voice, but it wasn't Caro.

           

Dinner is ready John? It took you damn near 5 minutes to say that? I ignored it and just assumed girls do strange things on their periods sometimes. Maybe I was right. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I was a little of both. She didn’t act weird like that at the dinner table though later that night. We joked around, I talked about Mr. Johnson's’ piece of s**t truck and after my ranting for the day, Caro told Jessica she’s growing up so we need to find her a job which Jessica would scream 'nooooooo! That’s for old people!' and we’d all laugh�" that sort of thing. It was times like those that made me not give a damn about whatever it was that happened in the garage. Not long ago, I did convince myself I was flying over some damn mountains and looking at what I swore was my dead father, so maybe I’m the one that’s just imagining things. That was until Jessica came home crying a week after she finally got out of school for the summer.

IX

           Again, I was in the shop working on Mr. Johnson’s damn truck again and it wasn’t the fuel pump this time; f*****g thing needed the entire rear axle taken out and replaced with a new seal and bearings plus the new axel of course. But everyone in the neighborhood knew me as the friendly mechanic so they’d come to me hoping to pay half as much as what the cut throat dealers charged em. I’d be out of business if it weren’t for the dealers' over jacked prices so I couldn't really complain. It’s just sometimes I think…ah f**k it. So I’m working on the Silverado again and Caro comes calling my name when I just finally pulled the seal out and had all the axel fluid splash out on me.

           

“F**k!” I yelled and I heard Caro laughing so hard you’d think she’d smoked a pound of hash or something. I don’t know what’s funny about fluid spraying on your face but on second thought, it’s usually supposed to pour out. This s**t sprayed out like a damn Super soaker on full pressure.

           “Caro, it’s not funny. You see what I risk everyday for you and the little one?” Even I was smiling after I said that. Couldn’t help it. I loved it when she was happy and lately, unless a drunk veteran called her a b***h at work or was doing that WTF thing it was a couple of weeks back, she usually stayed that way. She was pausing between sentences catching her breath when she told me what happened to Jessica’s little friend from school, Michael I think his name was.

           “She’s really upset about it and I feel bad because of you.” She said smirking. She gave me a little poke and I tried patting her hand away but I missed and she laughed again with her hand over her mouth, her cheeks raised and parts of her white teeth showing between her tanned fingers.

           “Yea, so what happened and why is she crying about it?”

           “He drowned. Think it just hit the paper today but it was yesterday I believe. John, she did like that little boy you know. She’s taking it pretty hard.” She waved her hand while turning away before speaking to me again. I rolled my eyes at this. What do kids, especially at the elementary level, know about gushy gushy feelings? Thought it was all about cooties and what have you. Caro saw this.

“Before you say anything, we’re talking about kids here John. Jessica’s almost in middle school now. You know the Charley Brown and Lucy days?”

           “Yea.” I said. But I still didn’t like it. Not because I expected that boy and my girl to be starring in the next hit porno movie or anything but it just reminded me how fast she was growing. And soon a silly crush would turn into a real crush, and a real crush would turn into a boyfriend, and then that would turn into a repeated cycle, but hopefully not too many times.

           

“So you’ve tried talking to her already?” I asked. The axle fluid I noticed, made my shirt look like one of those hippie color shirts you see people wearing sometimes, usually stoners.

           

         “I have but.” Her eyes shot to the ground, paused for a second, and shot back up at me.

“She said girls wouldn’t understand. Can you believe that nonsense? She wants you John.” She looked back to the ground again as if she had just said something to piss off the Pope and have the whole city of Rome come after her.

“I’m not good with these kinds of things.” I said, and the truth was, I really wasn’t. “You’re the one with the degree.”

“I know!” She said, almost in pouting kind of way. Hands both flanged up like a person being passed by a bus when you were clearly at the bus stop.  

We both paused for a moment and gave each other that ‘what the hell did you say?’ look and we were both laughing this time. Which we shouldn’t have, because our daughter was somewhere in the house (Caro hadn’t told me where in the house exactly but somewhere) probably thinking the sky was falling down. I looked at Caro who was still kind of snickering a little and just gave her a kiss and told her I’d go and talk to her.

“Because boys understand everything” I hollered as I walked away. Caro didn’t counter argue but I knew she was smiling. I remember walking out into the sunlight and it was just as bright as it was ever gonna be for a small town in Indiana. Well, I guess it wasn’t necessarily a town but a piece of pie out of a metropolis area called Indianapolis but I was from Waukegan and the s**t really wasn’t that different (minus the Great Lakes and the Navy nearby of course). I saw Mr. Johnson two houses away and remembered he was mowing the yard and he saw me and I told him ‘Hope that lawnmower wasn’t made by Chevy’ and he told me it beats the hell out of a Dodge and I told him he had a point, which I was thinking to myself couldn’t have cared less if it was a Dodge, Ford, or Chevy. If it’s broke, fix it. If it’s trash, throw it away. That’s really all I remember from that point until I found Jessica in my room sitting on the ground next to our dresser. The rest is a blur but I’m gonna try. For Caro, I’ll try.

           After that friendly exchange with Mr. Johnson I cut through the grass unto our sidewalk to the house and reached for the doorknob when I got to the porch. I thought Caro was following behind me the whole time and I swear I thought she was right there but when I went into the house I left the door open thinking she would come along and close it but that never happened. To be honest, I don’t know what happened but I just know that as I walked in the living room and got to the base of the stair banister (Caro told me earlier she was in her room last she talked to her) the door closed shut. It wasn’t so much as a slam as it was a meticulous push but it was more…benign if that makes sense. I didn’t turn around because like I said, I thought Caro was behind me. If anything, I expected her to shove right past me and take a shower or something, but that didn’t happen either. As I write this to you, whoever you are, I know she wasn’t in the house. At that time, I never really thought about it though. I can only tell you these things because it was after I saw my daughter that I noticed something wasn’t right.

“Jessica?”

           

It sounded like I was very far away from myself when I said that. Sounded like I was speaking through a microphone from another city that finally went back to the ear canal and with what little was left you could hear, it was indistinguishable. In other words, s**t felt like a dream. But I could still move and I could still speak and I could still think of Mr. Johnson's’ f*****g truck if I wanted to but it just felt like something wasn’t all there. Like I was on the outside looking in kind of gig. Anyways, when Jessica didn’t respond, I took hold of the banister and made my way upstairs. She’s probably in her room I thought, just like Caro said she was not more than 5 minutes ago so that’s the first place I checked. As I was walking up the stairs and calling her name once more, I started to feel light headed. I’m getting older now and I can’t go rushing into things like I used to I was thinking so I thought it was normal; first signs of my body saying

‘Hey dipshit! Those stairs aint just stairs you know! Those stairs are mountain stairs you dumbass! Take it easy will ya?

Right, take it easy.Then I heard her.

           

           I brushed the buzz off (or tried to anyway) and made my way to her room and opened the door. She wasn’t there. Her pink blanketed little bed was there. Her Barbie toys and castles were there in the corner on the window shelf. Her TV that Caro made me (one night before Christmas) build�"a damned customized re-purposed wood frame (that I also had to paint)�" sat in the corner, that was there. Her book bag even laid on her bed along with her shoes at the foot of the box spring but no Jessica. I thought of looking under the bed when I heard her again.

This is where things really got blurry and for this I won’t even try to reiterate. Basically, I would hear her someplace, go there, look around, get lightheaded again, and wouldn’t find a trace of her. I’d give up searching, walk out of a room and I’ll be damned if I didn’t hear her again; but somewhere that was nowhere near as close to where I had heard her the first time. When I say hear, I mean she was either sobbing lightly, or calling out to me. I even went into the f*****g backyard looking for her. When I was about to go back outside to the garage to tell Caro I couldn’t find her, I heard her say “I’m upstairs daddy.” I didn’t hear her voice coming from upstairs, I heard it in the center of my head and I felt so light headed that I almost collapsed on the floor. Things didn’t feel real right and my house didn’t feel like my house anymore. It felt like navigating through a gas chamber under a drug induced haze.

           I went back upstairs and that blurry feeling soon became a fragment of the past. I instinctively, almost being controlled it felt like, walked into me and Caros bedroom and there she was, sitting on our bed. Her eyes greeted mine and mine greeted hers. Though she was sobbing a little, I could tell she had been crying by the drying of tears on the sides of her face. Those eyes seemed to say ‘what took you so long? Been here the whole time waiting for you, you senile old thing you’. I didn’t like it. Didn’t like it at all. Instead of asking why the hell she was in my room, I approached the bed as calmly as I could, sat perpendicular to her on the bed, and laid my hand on her furthest shoulder from me. That’s when she started to cry again and I told her it was okay.

           She looked at me with those big eyes of hers, just like her mothers, and her little mouth did everything it could to smile but to no avail. The corners of her lips would raise up, then slowly go back down again and she would cry more. I pulled her to me, embraced her, put my chin on top of her little crown of a head, and told her how much I loved her and that it hurts daddy to see her that way. That blur I mentioned earlier was beginning to clear up into what I would call a pretty distinctive memory. This much what I tell you, is what I know what happened.

It’s not some made up s**t or me being drunk like usual because I put down the bottle remember? And you know by now­­­ (if you’ve kept reading this far) that I’m not a drug user (well, sometimes but no more than twice a year but that would be much later). I think that’s enough to know I’m not losing my s**t and what I’m telling you is what really happened. Looking at me the way she did, she told me that she killed that boy Michael. I couldn’t really believe what I heard so I laughed and she laughed but was crying at the same time. I had no clue what made this funny because absolutely nothing about it was funny. In fact, I was damn near terrified.

           “What makes you think that?” I asked her. Jessica reached under one of our pillows Caro and I shared and it was a picture of me and my old man. It was a picture taken so long ago that I couldn’t even remember where it had came from, let alone where or how my daughter had gotten a hold of it.

           “Jessica" I said. "Where did you get that?”

           

“Found it.” She said. She made it sound like everybody sleeps with a picture of their dead parents under their pillow. I had to be no more than 12 years old in that picture and these were the days that a smartphone hadn’t been invented yet, which made it that more aspiring. It wasn’t in black and white or anything because I’m not that old people, but you can tell that the s**t was old. The 12 year old John in the picture was grinning so wide that my buck little teeth were damn near protruding out of mouth and I was holding a fishing pole with a blue gill dangling by the string. My pops had his arm around me and he was also smiling and in his other hand, held an open can of Bud light.

           

“You were at Great Lakes.” Jessica said, staring at the picture. “What was it like there daddy?”

           “Um, well…It was.” I could barely get the words out because I damn near wanted to cry right along with her, for whatever reason it was she was crying about in the first place. Didn't she say she killed that boy? I'm sure I heard it right.  Finally, I just gave her some random bullshit to play along with.

“I’ll take you there someday and you can find out for yourself. How about that?” I was beginning to sound like a child having a nervous breakdown after having his candy taken away for a week but Jessica didn’t seem to notice.

           “I don’t remember him much.” She said, glaring at the picture. I almost laughed when she said that because she wasn’t even born when pops died. She didn’t come along until damn near 3 years later. Even then it’d be impossible to remember a man whose photographs were never hung around the house. Only picture I had of him nearby was in my wallet and it wasn’t even the picture my daughter was showing me. So where did she get that from? Jessica, what are you doing here, in my bedroom right now?

           

“Jessica, you can’t remember Grandad. He went away before me and mommy had you.”

           

“Yea.” She said casually. “I don’t get to see him much. I just have bits and pieces of him in my heart and I know that he loves me. But I remember It's always cold where he stays but he kept me warm and helped me catch a fish even!”

           

           “A fish? Jessica, what are you talking about?“

           She glanced at me then and back to the picture. She reminded me so much of her mother when she did that. She looked back to me again and said “You don’t remember do you?”

           

You don’t remember?

I was taken aback but my arm was still on her. “Baby, look: I'm worried about“�"

           

�"“You see!" She shouted. She still held the picture of me and pops in her little hands. "That’s why I don’t want to talk to mom!” She cried and her tears started pouring out again. “She doesn’t understand! She just doesn’t understand daddy! I killed Michael just like you didn’t mean to kill Grandpa but we didn’t mean to right? We're not bad people are we?”

           What happened next happened quick and it happened fast. That day I saw my pops again.This time I wasn’t somewhere in the air floating around like some a*****e. I was there on the ground and standing and so was Jessica. And so was pops. We was on this small fishing boat out into the sea but close enough to know land was near because of the mountains nearby; those goddamn frosty covered mountains. Pops was reeling something in wearing a yellow poncho and some goofy looking rubber boots but me and Jessica were still dressed in the cloths we were in before we got to this arcane world. Jessica poked me and I looked at her and she was smiling at me with just the most beautiful smile.

           

“Daddy can you catch me a fish?” She asked. I looked down at her with the dumbest look; dumb because out of everyone on this small a*s boat, I was the only one out of the loop it felt like. I was trying not to have a panic attack and that’s when pops spoke.

“No little missy, I’m afraid he can’t do that.” He said. His back was turned towards us with his shoulder blades poking out, revealing that what we saw wasn’t just some guy dressed like SpongeBob but really my allegedly deceased father. Same voice, same grunting noise as he pulled on the reel, same occasional swearing. Same pops.

           

“I’m just showin em the ropes is all little missy don’t you worry. Until then, I gotta feeling itsa gonna be a big one today. Maybe then he can teach ya. Ain’t that right John?”

           His back was still turned and all I could see was a big yellow thing with a fishing pole with its hood up but it was definitely my pops.

“Yay!” Jessica shouted and I could hear her voice echo across the seas and into the mountains. Likewise, it went far out into the opposite direction into an ocean where the eyes would never be able to reach the end of it. She started to jump a bit when pops felt the boat rocking. I felt it too.

           “Hey! No jumpin on the boat! For every jump ya miss you can double that when you get on the land miss slippity slop!”

           Jessica giggled at this and I’m not going to lie, I laughed a little too. More than anything I was smiling. Only pops would say something stupid like that to make a child like my daughter laugh. Just like how I do. That feeling of panic and terror was still there, but I felt I was getting it somewhat under control now.

           

“Pops?” I called out. I took Jessica’s little hand into mine.

           

“Yea son?” He hollered back, reeling left and then straight and back left again making that grunting sound.

           “Where the hell are we?”

           

Pops laughed in the middle of his grunt and it kind of came out like an Hmph sound but not exactly; it was the sound you made when something was funny but not funny enough to make you laugh out loud. He would do that: grunt, laugh, hmph; grunt, laugh, hmph; for what I thought would be forever until he finally let the pole fly out into the water and I saw him turn to me. It was definitely my pops, and he hadn’t aged a bit since I last saw him.

“Not sure.” He muttered. He bent down and opened a tackle box near his left leg, fished for some things, got what he needed, and straightened his back to look at me again.

“Kinda reminds me of Alaska though. Sure as hell beats the shop.”He shrugged his shoulders and began to bend over again to get into his tackle box. That’s when I got angry. I don’t know why but I did. Jessica must have noticed because she was closing her grip around my forearm a little tighter.

           “So you're telling me to f**k the shop? Dad, I’m working the shop right now and you’re…” I looked at him up and down. “You’re f*****g fishing in the middle of nowhere! Can somebody tell me what the hell is going on here?”

           

Pops let out a big sigh and rotated his back in and out as if he were getting ready for some pull up competition. He found another fishing pole from God f*****g knows where, and started attaching the hook to the bait before needling the thread to the hole of the rode. What he said next took me by a snub nose surprise.

           

“I did that for you son. That shop, I did that for you. Can’t be dancing around trynna honor my name when I’m having the joy of my damn life catchin fish out here. Hell, if I had it my way I would of stayed in the corps, but I had you to think about I built that shop for you to get you started for the bigger picture. You see, all I know are these hands son, so I thought you’d follow my footsteps and here you are. Fixing for people like what's that fellow’s name, Mr. Jones?”

“Mr. Johnson.” I said.

“Well whatever his name is, his truck sure isn’t worth a goddamn.”

           As angry as I was, I had to smile at that. Just had too.

“Truth is though, I thought the shop would hold you over until you found something else. Didn’t expect you to still be workin it.”

“But I thought that’s what you wanted!” I got angry again but more or less, I was afraid. Afraid because I didn’t know where I was. Afraid I’d never get back home. Afraid my old man would tell me he was disappointed in me like so many times I had done in the past.

“What is it that you want though John? If there’s no pop to the shop then you can find time to make use of what you want with your hands, am I right?” He went on tying his new thread into the new pole, staring at me as he did so.

           

“Well? You are like your old man, I see. I didn’t want that and your mother didn’t either. She wouldn’t say it to me directly but we both knew. John, do what makes you happy and if you’re anything like me, you probably would like to do something using these.”

He set the pole down, and as if to demonstrate, he reached his hands out and opened his palms and closed them. He did this three or more times before reaching back for his pole but not before he gave me a warm smile. A smile only pops could give. All of this was too much to bear for me. I just had to let something out if nothing.

           “Well I don’t know what I want to do with my life! Caro thinks I'm a bum because of it, and I hate it. Why don't I know the answer?” I dropped to my knees and cried in a place I doubt ever had a rule where time could count its days, its hours, even its seconds. It was somewhere eternal and stagnate. Pops walked towards me and laid his hand on my shoulder and I looked up towards him. He was still smiling that fervent smile of his.

           

“She doesn't think you're a bum son. That girl loves the hell out of you, you're talking nonsense now."

"Then what I'm a supposed to do?"

"In time you'll know son. And when that time comes, you’ll begin to change. Change for the better. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

X

           

           I awoke in my bed. It was dark as hell and Caro was asleep next to me. I had a headache that could have been a pseudonym for hanging on a hangover. I reached/stretched over her way partly because it felt like I was asleep forever, partly because I wanted to see if her eyes would blare wide open and look at me that way she did when I first had that weird experience with the lights. Nothing. She just inhaled and exhaled in a way that made me think of a juvenile cat or dog having a nap after a long day at the park. I didn’t test it though. Didn’t dare to have a repeat of that night so I rolled over to my side of the bed and slowly got up to go outside. I wanted dreadfully to smoke a cigarette for some reason and this was a situation that I dare didn’t fight the urge not to.

            Now I’m the type of guy to leave a shoe rack by the doorway but keep the slippers or sandals handy nearby at all times. For our backyard, I had a rack for that too, but it was more limited for reverence of s**t to be done in the yard. It was simple: either I’m out back priming the fence or building a new one for that matter, or I was drinking or smoking. So I get down the stairs past the kitchen and right next to the kitchen exit is where this rack is supposed to be. Well, it wasn’t there. Of course this freaked me out but in the state I was in, I knew I was wearing my sandals so f**k it. I went back into the kitchen to fetch for those Marlboro Reds I’ve been craving.

            I opened the backside door and where we have a patio, we have a black steel table with 2 chairs, sometimes three depending what’s going on. This night, we had two, and Jessica was sitting in one of them. The one that faced more towards the door, the door that I just slid to my right and just so happened to notice her just as much as she noticing me. Only it felt more like she was expecting me.

            “Jessica?” I wiped my eyes while yawning. Pack of squares in one hand and a lighter in the other.

            “What are you doing baby girl?”

            “Thinking of you.” She said. It was a monotonous sound that no kid her age should be sounding like unless trauma was a factor. I immediately thought of Caro that night in the bed and clinched my palm around my Bic lighter a little tighter.

            “I’m still sad about Michael.” She said. She wiped her nose on the sleeve of her night gown. “But its okay I guess. I feel better about it now because I know you know what that’s like. Grandpa…” She paused a moment, made some distinctive blinks in her eyes, then look at me. “I love you daddy.”

           

Now I’m not sure if I was balling or crying but I know tears were definitely coming out from both holes in both eyes. I must have dropped my cigarettes because I don’t remember having them with me suddenly. I just walked to her, embraced her and gave her a kiss on the forehead and told her that she was the world to me. Without her, there would be no daddy. To my surprise, she kissed me back but on the cheek and smiled. It was hard to see how much of her mother had taken over the gene pool here but no complaints from this guy.

            “You’re happy!” She shouted and she gave me another kiss and ran back into the house where I assume she went to her room and slept with that same smile. Actually, I know she did that. Don’t ask me how but I just felt it. Me on the other hand, now remember where that pack of cigs went: I smoked them all. When I came back to sleep Caro would wake me nearly an hour later getting ready for work. I never told her I saw our daughter in the backyard at damn near 2 in the morning. I had a feeling she already knew. Just as I knew our daughter was sleeping with a smile on her face.

She Kissed the Sky

I

        The day Caro died believe it or not was just a normal day for me. I was outback like always working on things. Caro showed no signs or symptoms of illness at all, so when she texted me at 3 in the afternoon asking me to come to her before she fell asleep, I thought nothing of it. Jessica had started school again for the next year and today was Caro’s day off. She didn’t respond back when I texted her asking what the problem was so after an hour or so, I put the tools up on the metal tool stand I had and made my way to her room.

        When I got there, she already had her eyes closed but I could tell she still wasn’t in REM just yet. I sat on the bed and put my hand on her thigh and she smiled.

       

“Is that my future husband trying to caress me?”

        I smiled and told her it would be nobody else as long as I was alive.

        “What did you need baby?” I asked and she groaned a little bit and rolled over on her side away from me.

        “I have a headache from hell John.” She said, and just laid there like that for a while. I was rubbing her thigh back and forth while asking if she was okay. She told me she was, but something didn’t feel right. Just seemed like a headache wouldn’t cause a person to feel so, was the word? Lifeless? She was getting cold and it was 77 degrees in the house and damn near 86 outside.

        “I think the headache might go away if I confess to you that I was adopted.” She said. This struck me as odd because we’ve already discussed that. That’s why she didn’t know what her ethnicity was and neither did I care. I loved the woman lying next to me night after night so whatever. She grabbed my hand and then she told me she was sorry. I held on to that hand for as long as I could remember.

        “I’m going to kiss the sky John. I want you to watch and please, watch closely. I want you to know that I can really do it. A gift for you.”

       

Before I could say anything, she turned back over to me and I could see tears in her eyes. The way we had the room set up, Caro slept closest to the window outside and I slept closest to the door out the room. She looked at me with these eyes and she turned her head and blew a weak but fervent kiss out the window. That’s the last time I saw my future wife alive.

When I felt no flow of blood through her thigh, I checked her pulse, then I put my head on hers and kissed her; kissed lips that didn’t know how to respond to the living. I tried to call her name but the words were dead and my throat became dry and then I saw it. I looked out the window and saw a circular shape that shone light through the clouds and the clouds surrounding it were beginning to get dark. The opposite of an eclipse so to speak. Then it began to rain. Now I didn’t check or not but I’m sure our house was the only one on the block not get hit by that rain. It was gentle rain though, not violent. Peaceful even. It rain like that as I cried for what seemed like forever but was probably just a couple of minutes. I don’t even remember calling an ambulance but when they did come, they pronounced her dead at the scene.

       

“Mr. Canton? Can you hear me? I said your wife is"-

“She kissed the sky.” I said. We were standing outside now and paramedics were in and out of our house.

        “Mr. Canton, do you need to be checked also for…Wait, what the?” The paramedic stared at the sky just how I was. None of us knew what to say at what we were witnessing. That circle that Caro made began to blossom into a rose. And then another one formed near that. And another. It looked like someone was carving it out with a stencil and colored the outlines with a darkish gray color to separate this art, if you want to call it that, with what was supposed to be just a bunch of water vapor. What happened next happened for only about a second but it was impossible to miss. The combination of the sun going down along with the rain made that gaping hole of flowers (that continued to spread) become a sort of reflective prism for every color you could ever imagine. That’s how I knew Caro did that, because I told her I’d get her roses of every color in the book because a plain colored rose was just too boring. She would laugh at that and tell me we was supposed to get married, not join the circus.

When the colors disappeared, the engrave-like roses stayed indented in the sky longer than the rain and longer than the night could come down to put it out. I could faintly hear other paramedics try snapping the other guy out of it and one by one, they all just kind of stood there like we were, as if seeing what they sky looked like for the first time.

        “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” I heard one girl say. Without looking at her I spoke. No emotion. Not apathetic. No feeling but still warmth from the breath that came from those words. Other than that, it was purely monotonous, stating the facts.

        “My wife did that.”

       

I can’t tell you how long we stood there that way. What I do remember is that Mr. Johnson shook me out of it and asked if all of these paramedics in my yard were high on pot. I turned to tell him that everybody does it and when I looked back up, it was gone. Not a single trace of what I just tried my damned best to describe to you was in that sky. Soon enough, like coming out of a deep sleep, the paramedics at the house and in my front yard began to move and speak again like nothing ever happened. Mr. Johnson told me that Mrs. Johnson can pick up Jessica from school if I needed her to, but I respectfully declined. I waited for her at the bus stop and then drove her to the hospital. I had been drinking before we got there. The habit came back about as fast as my wife died in front of my eyes.

At the hospital, the doctors tried coming up with everything they could in the book but they settled on what killed my wife was a severe case of a brain aneurysm. I knew that wasn’t true and even though Jessica was so young, I knew that she didn’t think it was true either. Regardless of what we thought, that’s what was shown for her obituary. We had Caro’s funeral that Saturday

        Just like my father, Caro’s funeral was jammed packed with a bunch of people I’ve never seen before in my life. Alumni, teachers, cohorts, even some veterans she used to counsel showed up. A couple of guys from the corps I used to work alongside with also showed up, and that meant a lot to me. Made me feel I hadn’t been forgotten. Later that night I would get smashed with those guys which I guess isn’t even relevant to the story right now. I got along with them the most I think. But unlike my father’s funeral, there were people I did see, mostly people from High school. Time I discovered, showed some of Caro’s old high school buddies no justice. Others, it seemed time just left them alone. The girl I had called a b***h back then was actually there and she apologized to me for what she said all those years ago and I forgave her.

“I was a jackass. You were in your right.” I told her.

“I think we all were back then John. Your daughter is beautiful though.” She tried to smile saying that to me. I tried smiling back, but couldn’t. I just walked away. I didn’t speak at Caro’s funeral but Jessica did, and it made damn near the entire crowd hovering over the verge of emotional collapse. I can’t remember what she said because I was half drunk by that point. Whatever she said, it must have been powerful. When it was all over, me and Jessica were at the burial spot overlooking her tomb that said “Smiling until the very end; until we meet again.” Mrs. Johnson watched Jessica that night and the guys from the corps drove me back home where we drank the rest of the night until I passed out.

        So that’s it. That’s the last I saw my wife alive. It wouldn’t be long until custody came because of my drinking but there was something else to; people were beginning to suspect that I actually killed Caro. One time I punched the lights out of Jessica’s teacher when I came to pick her up and the a*****e just gave me this guilty like stare that creeped me out. I got out the car, asked if he had something to say and he just shook his head like I was a piece of s**t and I went over to him and clocked him one. There goes the rights to my kid. I was half drunk when I did that and when they found out, they said me driving over the legal limit with my daughter put her at risk for an abusive environment, so they took her. Not to mention that a*****e actually sued me which would take half a year or so to finally get behind me. So here we are, the end of Caro’s story and now what is about to be mine.

II

        I moved to Alaska about a year after I lost Jessica, but it would be hell getting there. Before I left, the shop was losing customers on the basis that I was a suspected murderer and without Caro’s portion of the income, I ended up losing the house. Without the house, there was no garage, without the garage, no place to work on cars, with no cars, there was no job. Everywhere I went to apply for work as a car mechanic denied me except at a damn Jiffy Lube. I took it though cause that was in the order of the court: stay sober, get a job, and make distinguishable differences in prior behavior. I ended up getting fired for having alcohol on my breath shortly after getting hired. Sad to say, I refused to request any help from the VA but I do thank God that Caro made me get my medical benefits from them because that was all I had left to live on.

The courts made me go to AA and try getting a sponsor and for a while that worked out but I stopped going when I got fired. The courts found out and I told them to kiss my a*s and I disappeared for a while. Nobody bought my dad’s house and he left it in my name and me and Caro used it for a sort of storage unit when he passed so I went back to live there. The electricity was cut off but the water was still on thank God and I just slept in the basement where pops kept all of his aged bourbon. Me and pops actually built a nice marble top bar down there and that’s where I sat (and slept) my last nights in Indiana; drunk on a damn barstool. One day I was drunk as s**t at that bar in broad daylight when a picture of my dad stood out to me. It was always there and I saw it growing up just about every day but that day, that picture caught my attention. It was hanging next to the cellar where the alcohol was stashed right behind the bar. He was in some kind of raincoat holding a fish I didn’t recognize. Next to him was Uncle Ross and they were both in what appeared to be in their mid-30’s.

When did pops catch this? Where was this?

        That’s when I had another vision. It was for a split second but it was enough for me to pack my bags and get the hell out of Indiana. Illegally (my license was suspended at the time), I drove as far up northwest as I could. The destination: Alaska.

I didn’t know why I was going, but I kept driving anyway. I just knew if I stayed back home, I was most likely going to die in that basement drunk and unconscious. The same paramedics would be at the house.

Yep, poor b*****d drank himself to death one would say.

Yea, but there’s no show in the sky this time. Hey, you want to watch the game tonight? 5 dollar pitchers at Hooters tonight. Matter of fact, f**k this guy. He ain’t goin anywhere.

And then they’d leave me and I’m sure no one would be at my funeral if I went out like that, and it scared the living s**t out of me. I’m not a praying man by any means but I prayed that entire trip; prayed I had enough for gas, prayed I wouldn’t get pulled over, prayed Jessica was okay. And that was a start for me to change. It wouldn’t be easy. I knew this. Hell, I expected it. But the internal drive was there and that’s all I would need to get me through. On that trip I asked God to show me the way. Everything was good until I ended up running out of gas close to Seattle…

III

What made me quit alcohol later is really just as a mystery as it is to me as it may be to you. That day I ran out of gas near Seattle is where I think the seed to abstain was placed though. When I got stranded out in Washington, I was freaking out, cursing myself and condemning my life for being such a failure. A nice guy called Ben from Seattle found me stranded on the side of the road that day and took me in (he would be one of the instructors for the aviation tech school I would later attend) and said he’d help me out until I could get back on my feet. He’s a single guy and likes to keep it that way and he offered to take me to Alaska to see the northern lights over the weekend since I told him Alaska was the destination I was headed and I wanted to see it. I was drinking on the night I saw those lights with the instructor and it was exactly what Caro showed me in those visions. I found out they call it the Aurora Borealis, and there’s another name for it; same s**t, just different location in Alaska.

The next day, I had about a fourth of Gin left and it sat next to the air mattress I slept on at Ben’s house. I didn’t touch it that day. Then another day. Then a week. Then two weeks. A month later, I eventually just gave it to my instructor who then gave it to a guy named Tim who would be my future neighbor later on ironically. Tim actually works the docks in the summers in Alaska to catch salmon and travels to the lower 48 to sell them. Nice guy, that Tim is. He gladly took it, said those fish are biting like a bunch of starving cobras this season to which I replied with a smile. Some people need something to take the edge off, others just need to have no edges at all.

       

        Caro always wanted me to go to school and I eventually went back as I mentioned before. I still wasn’t feeling the whole traditional college thing. Still thought that idea wouldn’t be the best choice, especially given my low tolerance to people’s bullshit and my high tolerance to alcohol. Someone mentioned online classes could be an option and I scoffed it off; I was a hands-on type of man.

I ended up going to school for two years and an additional year for specialty training in aviation mechanics before I moved to Alaska. Ironically, I work today on an Air Force base out here; Eielson to be exact. If you don’t know anything about Alaska, you’ve probably heard of Fairbanks. Aint that close to the town I live in but just to give you an idea. Of course, you could always just Google Moose Creek I guess. More ironic is the commander of the unit I work for knew who my Uncle Ross was and damn near hired me on the spot.

About pops shop, I still fix cars from time to time but I just do it on the side now. Just light work though. No more changing rear axles and transmissions; I don’t have the tools for that anymore. Those Air Force guys always come up to me asking which truck is better in this heap of snow pudding surrounding us and I tell them “As long as it isn’t Mr. Johnson’s f*****g truck, it should be fine.” To which I always get “Who the hell is Mr. Johnson?”

        Those Air Force guys are usually bored as s**t out there so every now and then I’ll offer em a trip to Juno or Anchorage for the weekend if their chits get approved. If my luck is right and Tim isn’t doing anything, I’ll invite the guys on the boat he owns in Anchorage and we’ll just sit back and shoot the s**t if it’s not too cold out. I’ll also show em around the local bars and the sites and whatnot. You see, after I graduated from aviation school in Washington, I just kind of took a shot in the dark and moved first to Anchorage. Stayed there for about a year and that’s where I did work on cars for a while, but for the dealers this time.

I also bartended which I have no idea in God’s Name why they would hire me but they did. It was fun I guess but when your cleaning mugs sober and seeing everyone else drunker than a bats a*s it kind of gets to you. Folks offered me shots, which I sometimes declined. Some even offered me other things I won’t mention but one I should mention was LSD. I took that s**t on a night I saw those northern lights and never picked the booze up since. Still have 3 hits somewhere laying around the house actually. I get drug tested at the base but they don’t test for that stuff at my level of clearance. Not sure why anyone would though. Seen a lot of alcoholics, weed heads, and crackheads in my days but never seen someone constantly getting ripped off acid and was still living somewhat of a normal life. I suppose anything is possible though.

        What I do on my free time is fish, write, and learn new ways how to fix things around the house. Every now and then I’ll take about a week trip out of the country just to get away. I’ve been to Puerto Rico, Brazil, Colombia, Thailand, and Israel so far on my 1st Civ Div list. Met a lot of girls traveling and sometimes I’ll meet em back in Alaska. One time I had an officer try getting with me and we did our thing but she wanted some kind of relationship which I wasn’t ready to do. It took me two and a half years after what happened to Caro for me to start seeing other people again. By two years, I mean actually being celibate. When I gave it a shot again, nothing was the same so I never try getting to close with women if I don’t have to (but eventually, nobody wants to be a f**k buddy forever).

Nevertheless I’ve accepted I’ll be single for a while, maybe forever for that matter, and I’m fine with that. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t go looking for any and I’m still the same a*****e as I ever was, minus the constant smoking, drinking, and swearing of course. Every woman I’ve met though, it just kind of happens; They see my military plates or duffle bags, or I get lost somewhere (which happens a lot more frequently than I’d like it to be at my age) and it kicks off from there. Usually, I cut it off before it can get as far as exchanging numbers but every once and awhile I’ll just play along with it. 80% of girls I never call back. The rest of them, about 10%, are the ones I end up having sex with. Now I know how that sounds but again, I’m happy being alone at this point in my life. I ended up picking up two dogs from the shelter: one a husky and the other a malamute. That’s all the company I think I need right now. Things seemed to go fine that way until my daughter came and saw me out of nowhere.

IV

Now, I lost contact with Jessica after high school. See wasn’t required to see me and eventually, I just quit trying to call her all the time. I know when someone doesn’t want to see me so I didn’t push it. Don’t get me wrong, it hurts like hell and not a day goes by that I don’t think about my baby girl but if she don’t wanna talk, then she don’t wanna talk. Throughout the years, as I mentioned before, I’ve been investigated over the death of Caro. Didn’t make national headlines or anything (at least I don’t think it did) but it made enough coverage that contributed to one of the main reasons I left Indiana so I know it made enough coverage for Jessica to know where I was. On the trip to Alaska before the car ran out of gas in Washington, one of the things I actually prayed for was her clarity of the truth.

        Well, I got a knock at the door and it was at night. It was a Sunday but I was off due to a 72 for God knows why. The dogs didn’t go all crazy like they usually did when someone knocked so when I opened the door, I was expecting that officer in the Air Force I was telling you about or maybe someone else I’ve invited over a couple of times. When I opened the door I knew immediately the person staring back at me was my daughter. What she saw back was a man with a blowout haircut with black hair on top and a full orange beard who was big in size for his height, but was obviously starting to get a beer belly if he didn’t take those dogs out for a jog three times a week. She didn’t mind because she then leaped into my arms.

       

“I missed you dad. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for it to be so long.”

        My palm rested on her head and my fingers brushed her hair. My daughter had become a woman now. I felt her breast against my chest and thought how time could fly by this fast. She had grown to be between my height and her mothers which I would assume is anywhere between 5’6 to 5’7. I was glad she wasn’t taller than me.

       

“Sorry that I’m getting fat?” I asked her. She pulled away from me, looked at my beard and then my stomach and laughed. “Your not getting fat, dad. You look good.” And she hugged me again. We stood out in the doorway like that for what felt like a very long time.

V

        “So what’s new?” I asked her. “Do you want something to eat? To drink?”

        She shook her head left to right and looked at me with what were now her mother’s actually eyes. The ones I used to wake up to everyday. We was in the living room by the doorway. “Okay, well I’m getting some coffee.”

        “No alcohol?” She asked as I walked to the kitchen. Didn’t want to hear her ask that but it was okay. If my own daughter didn’t know I had a drinking problem, even at her age, then call me f*****g 007.

        “Nope.” I hollered back. “Sam and Max are my sponsors. Their AA dogs.”

        As if to clarify this, both Sam and the Max barked and came rushing in the kitchen wanting a couple of treats. I could hear Jessica laughing a little at that and that made me smile. As I started pouring coffee into the filter, she got off of the couch and came into the kitchen and sat at the table I had set up. She watched me as I was getting the creamer and mug out of the cabinets. The coffee started to roast.

        “They told me where you were.” She said. “Custody, that is. Something told me I didn’t need them to verify that though. It’s what you wanted.” She looked out the corners of her eyes then and back to me.

        “I wouldn’t say that but I like it here. Pretty peaceful. Nobody to flick you off for going 50 in the 55.” She nodded and put her hands on the table and cuffed them.  It got quiet again and it bothered me. I haven’t seen my daughter in such a long time and there was so much to say, yet nothing to say at all.

“So you done with school now?” I asked.

        “Yep. Gotta masters in bio in a little under four years. It was a special program they had available.”

        “Smart just like your mother.” I said. The coffee was almost done brewing now and the wind was giving a beating to the window I had over the kitchen faucet.

        “Yea…”

        “What are you going to do now?” I asked her. “Do you want a cup? I got this hazelnut creamer stuff I picked up at the store. Not half bad.”

        “Yea, I’ll take a cup and I don’t know honestly. I’ve been offered a couple of jobs but I declined. Don’t want to jump into anything serious right now.”

        Serious right now.

She made it seem getting a job was like getting a boyfriend or something. If that was the case, I’ve been a queer since I could remember. I understood what she met though. Didn’t want to grow up to fast and have 10 years fly by wondering what the hell happened to you like what happened to me. I was curious though, how much could someone in that field make? So I asked. The coffee was done brewing and I poured me a cup.

       

“Yea? How much they offering you?” I took a sip of my coffee, and reached to get another mug out of the cabinet for Jessica.

        “One was a government job. They said $120,000 I think.”

        I spit out my coffee and the dogs barked and ran to taste whatever I had gotten on the floor and walked away. Dogs don’t like used hazelnut apparently.

        “Dad, you alright?”

        I wiped my mouth off with my sleeve and could feel some of the coffee in my beard so I was looking for a paper towel. I forgot where I had placed the damned thing.

        “Dad?”

        “Yea, I’m fine. Coffee is just really hot.” I wiped my beard with my sleeve because I couldn’t find the damn paper towels and resumed to pour Jessica’s coffee.

        “Anyways, maybe it’s good you don’t go straight to work. Take a break, go and see the world you know.”

        “Yea I know. That job offer was based in Europe though.” She said.

        I had taken another sip of coffee when I heard that and out it went. All over the place. The dogs didn’t even come to the rescue this time which left me to clean the mess up. Jessica was laughing as I searched for a rag underneath the sink.

       

“Thinking of going into the Air Force honestly. Guess why I came here to see you. Well that and some other things.”

        If I had taken another sip right then, there would be no coffee in my mug. It would be over the floor, the countertop and of course, my beard. When I was done pouring me another cup, I sat at the table and handed Jessica hers. She took a sip and I just stared at her.

“You really think this is hot?” She asked in a teasing way. I took a sip of mine to confirm I was still in the coffee drinking game which actually was pretty hot given it had just came off the pot. Now the staring game, I could probably have her beat in, as all I could do was observe what time had done to my daughter.

Her hair wasn’t black like me or Caro’s; it was blonde. Not sure where she got that from because nobody on my side of the family had blonde hair so it must have been someone on Caro’s side. Nobody has seen what anyone on Caro’s side looked like but I could only assume. She didn’t have the single dimple like Caro had though; Jessica had two. One on each side. Years might have done no justice for other people like some of Caro’s friends, but it seemed to have done wonders for my daughter. I wanted to ask if she had a boyfriend or not but refrained.

        “Uncle Ross told me I should go into the Air Force because you were hard headed and went into the marines.”

        That’s when things took a totally different shift, and my heart froze in my chest. I immediately felt like that night Caro said those things about the last moments I had with my father. I was ready to take another sip but my cup remained in midair and my face paralyzed. I was starting to shake a little in my legs, which now started to feel like bones made out of rubber. Jessica’s demeanor however, stayed the same.

        “Daddy, that’s the other thing I wanted to talk to you about. It’s also why I haven’t seen you in so long. It wasn’t because I went off to college, it was because I wanted to know where mom came from. And I found it.”

        “Jessica, me and your mother already tried looking for them. How did you”-

       

“Because the older you get, the longer the distance to communicate.”

       

The longer the distance to communicate? What the hell does that mean? My daughter continued just as I continued to be as still as a statue.

        “When you and mom were together, that’s when things began to change, but she has seen them. She didn’t want to tell you but she has. She just never tried to get back in touch with them when I was born. She wanted to leave all of it behind.”

        “Jessica”�"

        �"“Just listen okay. You remember that time when I was at that birthday party and I kept shaking my head up and down and you were holding my hand?”

        Yes I remember. Still think about it too. I just shook my head in confirmation that yes, I hear you loud and clear kid.

        “Well that was your communication line with Grandaddy. You got there by touching me and something triggered it. Mom knew how to trigger it and that’s why it happened again; and don’t tell me I don’t know what I’m talking about because I know what happened with you and mom that night. You see, thats why I was able to actually see grandad with you the last time you went there. Mom already established the connection but she didn’t want to dad. She didn’t know how to control it.”

        My daughter then just broke down and started balling, tears raining down and staining the wooden table. That’s about the time I noticed that the only movement I made during her explanation was my eyes meeting hers. My hand and mug were still in mid-air and there was some coffee blotches I had spilled for the table to soak up. Tears and coffee don’t make a good combination I thought. Jessica wiped her eyes and I saw smeared black liner on the corners of both eyes and remembered where I had put the paper towels. They were in the bathroom because I kept forgetting to buy toilet paper and well, now a clogged toilet would also be another stain in my house soon but I got up and ran to get them. When I came back she was still sitting there and her tears stopped falling and she looked like she was pulling it together. I gave her the roll of towels and she said thank you.

Wonder how I’m gonna pull together from this I thought but didn’t say. After she wiped the eye liner off her cheeks, she started to speak again. I sat down and listened. She still had a couple of small dots of liner she missed but I didn’t say.

       

“I think mom was given up for adoption because they didn’t want her to know about any of this. Her parents I mean. My Grandparents.”

She said that almost shamefully. Grandparents.

“Mom must have known though, because sometimes, things like that would happen to me. Some of the things are pretty, like the rose mom made, but some of it can be bad, like the day that boy in my class died. I don’t know how but I know I did that.”

        “How?” Is all that could come out. I wanted to know but I didn’t wanna know. But I remembered that day as well. That’s the day me and Jessica saw pops. Pops on that damn boat in his all yellow duck poncho.

       

        “They told me how it worked. It’s still very complex, even for me to understand but it has something to do with how you feel and what the other person wants or vice versa. An action has to be involved and clearly established between the two parties for it to work though. Like wishing someone well before a trip, or asking someone what do they want in life.”

       

        What do want son

        What do you want nephew

        “The day before the trip, I remember you wouldn’t let me go cause you said it’d be dangerous so I was so mad at you.”

“Ouch.”

Jessica ignored my comment as if I was one out of a thousand people listening during some inauguration speech. She reminded me of myself being serious the way she was actually. That much she got from my side.

“And I was jealous of that boy but I really did want him to have a good time. So when I told him ‘it better not rain on you’ and he told me back ‘that’ll make it more fun’ I didn’t expect that the rain that night would cause a current in the river the next day. Nobody knew really.”

Then all at once it hit me. Hit my chest like a freight train. God rest that kids soul but if what she was saying was even close to being true then that could only mean that…

        “So you’re telling me….”  I don’t remember crying but I must have not have noticed because Jessica gave me a roll of paper towels. Then she got out of her seat and hugged me. We stayed that way for a while as she told me it was okay and that they were happy now.  It was bad enough knowing I killed my uncle and I killed my father but the worst part was I didn’t even know how or why. I didn’t want to think about any other people either because that would just make it worse. Like Mr. Johnsons truck because I hated that thing. Maybe that’s why it kept breaking down. Or Jessica’s teacher that I punched. One of the reasons I got sued is because they discovered somehow two months after hitting him that the glasses I knocked off his face had shattered and a small piece flew into his left eye. Lawyer said it caused him pain until the eye doctor told him it was a miracle he wasn’t blind yet. And then he did go blind and now wears a patch now. But what of Caro? If any of this comes a fragment of making any sense, why did she die? Then all at once, what followed the wave of guilt and sorrow came rage. I wanted to find those people. Caro’s people.

        “Jessica, where are these people? Where?”

        “Their…” She looked as if the words she was searching for wasn’t even in the English toolbox. “They’re in that place you saw granddaddy. I don’t know where that is, but that’s where they are.”

        “We have to go there. I need some answers right now.”

        “I knew you’d say that. And that’s why I have to tell you that you cant. I cant. The doors for me to actually physically go to there are closing just like they did with mom.”

        I got up from my chair, tears flowing down my matted face and I took my daughter by the arms.

        “Those b******s took my pops away from me and Caro and you can’t do your hocus pocus for just this last time?”

        Jessica then screamed at me after grabbing both the arms that were clenching her.

       

“And do what? If you’re looking to bring them back then you’re out of luck! This isn’t some f*****g Disney movie where everybody comes back and lives happily ever after!”

        Hearing my daughter swear like that reminded me of two things: one was I wish I hadn’t of done it so much. The second was I wonder how many times she heard me swear when I thought she wasn’t around but was actually somewhere around the corner listening. I quit thinking about it when her nails began digging in my arms.

        “What about you then? Are you going to end up like her too?”

        “I’ll be fine.”

        “Really?”

        “Yes. What mom did was intentional. Mom had done something to show you her power and she knew it would take her life. She also knew it would give you the chance to move here. She wanted to help you dad. You can’t say that she didn’t because look at you!”

        Jessica started smiling through a face that was on the verge of crumbling down with waves of joy, sorrow, and extreme fatigue.

“You don’t drink anymore! You can have those dogs you always wanted but couldn’t because mom was allergic and”�"

        “You think I give a f**k about two dogs over your mom?” I snapped.

“I lost everything when she died! I lost the house, I lost the shop, I lost you! How is that possibly helping me? With all this media accusations going on, I’m surprised I didn’t commit suicide for Christ’s sake.”

       

“Yea but you didn’t. And I’m here. And I love you and I.” she paused. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

        I gave her probably the most awkward look I could muster right then and there and then, I slowly started to smile. I saw Caro shining through my daughter at that moment. She smiled back at me.

        “Yes.” She tried laughing. “Kicked one guy I went on a date with in the balls. Told him ‘your lucky my dad isn’t around to kick your a*s’.

        Yep. I should have definitely watched the swearing I thought but I was still smiling.

           

“Why’d you kick him in the balls, Jessica. You know that doesn’t feel nice.”

        “Because he was trying to be funny when I turned down a drink that he bought me and told him I don’t drink.”

        “Yea?”

        “Yea. And he said well I have some weed but its back at the house and asked me to come with him and I kicked him in the balls.”

            “No way.”

        “Way. And then he called me a crazy b***h and I just laughed and called him pathetic and walked out the bar before they asked me to leave.”

        “A bar? Why go to a bar if you don’t drink?”

        “It’s college. Nobody knows why anything happens in college.”

        “Do you still go?”

        “Sometimes, but only if I’m travelling. Don’t like making a habit of it and the people there are losers.”

        Losers. That’s me.

       

As if reading my mind, she told me “You’re not a loser so stop.”

        “Well you’re a loser.”

        We both looked at each other and we laughed for a long time. Then I told her she had nails made out of f*****g Iron Mans testicles and that time I didn’t watch the swearing. I figured the secret was already out anyways.

XII

        Jessica ended up joining the Air Force. Right now, she’s an O-3 but tells me she’s trying to slow it down on the promotion so she can enjoy as much less responsibility as she can. She told me she’s not sure if she’ll stay in or not but every now and then she purposely thinks about joining the Marines and can here Uncle Ross in that other place he’s at getting pissed. She told me her ability to do things like that though is fading rapidly. She definitely can’t go back physically to that place and just to hear them on the other side takes tremendous effort. For the most part, I believe her. I have no reason not to.

After that night, about 6 or so months later, I ended up getting a separate place out in Hawaii. I got a gig that allows me to work on the 354 FW’s in Alaska and rotate out throughout the summer time to be assigned to 15th Maintenance Group out in Hickam AFB. I still have the dogs and that officer girl back in Alaska watches them from time to time. If not, then Tim. If not Tim, then some boot I let stay at my house until I get back after paying them for their time.

For all you thirsty guys out there, If you’re thinking I’m getting major pootang in Hawaii, I gotta say no to that too, but this time, a Marine officer started getting at me which I rejected immediately. Every time I look at her I go back to that day where I told all of those officers to “suck the big one” before they kicked me out so I can’t really take her seriously because I laugh every time I look at her. Of course she thinks I’m laughing at her but whatever. It was funny at the time and it’s still funny now. Sue me.

        There is a girl I hang out with sometimes when I rotate over there though that I should mention. Her name is Sai. She’s mixed with Okinawan and white or something. I don’t know. I’m sure she’s told me plenty of times but I don’t pay attention to things like that. The way I see it, people are people and one thing I know about people is that my patience with them (as I’m sure theirs with me) is thin. Sai is a bit different from the rest however.

She’s taken me to parts of the island where the tourist don’t go and we’ve seen several inactive volcanos together. She tells me never to take the helicopter rides though because the locals hate it, so I don’t. Instead, we sky dive, snorkel, and on occasion, surf but I’m horrible at it. A jellyfish came close to stinging me one time and I tried dodging that b*****d like the matrix and failed horribly. I ended up losing my board and having the wave toss me back into the sand backwards so nothing but sand filled up that famous line we all formerly know as the crack. Not cool, but it was fun I admit.

       

        All the accusations regarding Caro started to die down the more the years pass, which is good. Anyone who doesn’t ask me about my past doesn’t get informed of it other than the fact that I have a daughter. If the mother gets brought up, I tell them Caro had to move back to her native country, which I guess in a strange way, she did. I’m not sure where life is going to take me at the moment but I’m living it and I still haven’t touched the bottle and don’t plan to. Tried a couple of shrooms one time but even that made me feel bad. I ended up giving up the three hits of acid to some kid in Fairbanks as well. Those things were fun but I just don’t have the desire to do them anymore.

So for the most part, I’m happy I guess. Not cracked out on life but definitely not hating it either. I think it’s because I’m okay with who I see in the mirror today. I’m losing the gut with all the running around I do with Sai so I’ll take it one day at a time. Now even though I occasionally see Sai, I let her know that I’m not the one to get serious with.      

       

“Why?” She would ask. “You’re not that much older than me. Besides I love it that you don’t drink like all the tourist we have to deal with on the daily.”

        “I don’t know. I just feel you should deserve someone fresh I guess. Someone without a kid.” Every time it was something different. I have a kid. I’m too old. I’m getting fat. My beard is orange. And every time Sai would say the same thing. This time was no different.

       

“So?”

       

Sai leaned over and kissed me on the cheek and smiled at me. I gave a faint half assed smile back and she took my hand and we sat looking at the ocean. All I could think of right then was Caro. Whether if she was mad at me for being with this other girl. Whether she was mad in general even, but I knew she couldn’t be that mad; if she was I think she had the power to probably do some hocus pocus on me but I knew that wasn’t like Caro.

I don’t tell anyone about this, not even Jessica, but I swear sometimes I see her. I’ll wake up in the middle of the night; whether it be in Hawaii or Alaska, it makes no difference. I’ll wake up with some kind of ringing in my head that soothes its way out of my ears and then I know I’ll see her. The first time I actually thought I relapsed and took those 3 acid hits but knew that wasn’t right. I’ve tripped pretty hard before and seeing dead people isn’t something that happens. I can’t really explain how it felt to see her and that’s why I think maybe I’m starting to become batshit crazy. The LSD can only take so much of the blame.

I can’t remember if it was in Hawaii or Alaska the first time, but what I do remember is that I became extremely sad when it was all over with because I didn’t want her to go. In Hawaii, sometimes she’ll be out by the beach behind my apartment in that white dress of hers. Sometimes she’ll be standing in the water up to her waist. In Alaska, it’s a bit more subtle, mainly because It gets way darker there than in Hawaii. I’ll look outside because if I don’t get up from the head ringing, one of the dogs will jump on my bed and lick my face until I shoo him away and take him outside to go to the bathroom. Then I’ll see her when I open the door to the back. She won’t be in my face or anything but close enough that I see someone but far away to where I need to squint my eyes. When I see Caro, she never talks, but she looks at me, smiles, and every now and then she’ll wave at me and I’ll wave back. She’ll then turn around and walk the way she did that always turned me on, thrusting her hips back and forth.

Nobody can move like you do

       

And then there’s times, scarier times, where I only hear her, but those times are usually right before I wake up from REM sleep. Sometimes it’s her cries that wake me up and other times it’s her laugh. Sometimes she just says my name. It’s the crying though that makes it hard to fall back asleep because I feel like I’ve done something wrong. I think that’s probably the only time I actually do start becoming afraid. Afraid, because-

        Nobody cries like you do

        Well one day me and Sai had just came back from another lame attempt at me trying to beat her at her own game at surfing but of course I lost.

        “Want to sit over there by that hill and watch the sun go down?” She asked. I took her by the hand and told her I had nothing better else to do when she playfully slapped me on the wrist.

        “That’s not nice Mr. Johnny.” She teased

        “Alright Lucy Loo.” I fired back.

        “I don’t even look Chinese!”

        I teased her about that until we found a place where the sand sat a bit higher than the rest of the terrain. Sai brought a towel and laid it out and we sat and talked; mainly about why I was so reclusive to being in a relationship. For some reason, that day I wanted to tell Sai I’ve been seeing what was formerly known to be my significant other for what has been for almost a year now but I couldn’t. Didn’t see what the point was. Even if I could talk about Caro, I’m not sure now would be the time to bring it up. It was a good day and right now, I just wanted to hang out and watch the sun go down. I did think about it though from time to time. Not getting married. Thought about taking another chance and then I thought about pops and moms.

I’ve seen pops bring some funky women home growing up and maybe he’s even tried to date a few but for the most part, my pops died a single man, and I know that’s not what I wanted. I didn’t want to die alone. Instead of answering Sai’s questions about reclusiveness, I was actually thinking that today was going to be the day that I stopped thinking about the past and just get on with it already. If it did happen, I know Caro would have to be mentioned. If nobody could respect that I’m a widow who’s also a father, then f**k them. I was thinking all of these things when I got a call from Jessica. I picked up the phone.

        “Hey sweetie.”

        “Everything alright over there Private?”

        I gave the phone a strange look before responding back to her. “It’s former Cpl. You don’t even have Privates in the Air Force.”

        Sai just gave me a confused look, shrugged her shoulders, and opened up her phone to do whatever it is she did on it. Hopefully not playing candy crush but it could be worse. Could be doing the Instagram thing.  

       

“Grandad told me to call you and tell you it doesn’t have to be this way. He said you’re sitting next to a keeper right now. A bit of growing up to do but he said you stopped wearing diapers when you graduated from aviation tech school.  I don’t know who he was talking about but I want to meet her.”

        “Yea well we’ll have to arrange that sometime whenever you can take leave. And tell him I said thanks for the advice and that he’s an a*****e.” I could hear Jessica laughing on the other end and Sai laughed sitting next to me. I’m not sure why that was funny but I rolled with it.

        “Well okay, that was all I had for you today. It was hard just to hear Grandad speak though. I had to go in a bathroom stall and cover my ears. I think I’ve exhausted almost all of mom’s gift.”

        “Yea. Not sure if it’s worth trying or not anymore but be careful with it. Don’t hurt yourself.”

        “Will do. Logging off Captain.”

        “That’s an officer. I was enlisted.”

        “Yea I know. Later.”

       

Jessica hung up and I had the phone in my ear for a while thinking about how much time Jessica had until she couldn’t use the gift anymore. I was thinking probably not too much longer when Sai shouted so loud that it shook me and I dropped my phone in the sand.

        “Oh my God, John! Look!”

        I looked at her and she had her finger pointed out straight toward the sea and then I saw it. It was around 6 pm. I didn’t have to ask Sai what it was she was talking about because I knew what I was looking at the moment I lifted my head up towards the sky. And that’s when I knew I received my answer.

“She kissed the sky.” I said.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

I had my fingers laced around hers and the other hand lying behind my back and I squeezed firmly around her fingers. Sai turned her head and body towards me and gave me the look I’ve seen before so many times; it was the look that said I want you and I kissed her. She put her free hand against the side of my face and I put my fingers through her with mine. What was probably just a minute or so, we paused to stare each other, my hand still coursing through her hair.

“So, you think this can work?”

That’s when Sai’s face lit up and she didn’t have to say anything to let me know that she thought it indeed could work. Like everything else I had to conquer, this would be no exception but I was tired of being alone. I was tired of shacking up with although not many women, shacking up with people in general. I was tired of blaming myself for things that were beyond my control and most of all, I was tired of living my life in my misconceptions according to others.   

“I want to watch this if you don’t mind.” Sai said. “Who knows when something like this might happen again in the future? In our lifetimes!”

“Sai, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

       

        She laid her head on my shoulder and we stayed that way until the sun went down. In the sky, there was a rose that created an abstract hole into the sky that seemed to be a void into the surrounding darkening clouds. In the middle of the rose, different images began to appear and then fade into the clouds inside of its circle. Images that if they studied 100 years from now, wouldn’t have a clue what any of it meant. One image that I saw looked like one of those toy bride and grooms you see on top of wedding cakes, and they were dancing before it faded away. In another, I saw hands taking a hook out of a fish’s mouth and gently putting the fish back into the water. Another image, the final image I’ll mention was of a woman. That woman was wearing a dress that dragged unto the ground in which she stood. Her face up close in the beginning, like a camera adjusting its lenses, the image of that woman began to recede backwards, enough to where her whole body can be seen. It kept zooming out like that and as it did, the woman in the dress turned around and began to walk the other way; her back turned for all of the world to see. She kept walking away and the image receding out until it was hard to tell what we were looking at anymore. Somewhere out in the sky, I could hear a voice telling me she wouldn’t have it any other way.