Chapter Nineteen: Please, Lord, Guide Me On My Quest!

Dominica is going thru a period of boredom.

I was setting up my computer when Uncle Davis approached me dressed in his church clothes, turned around in a full circle and said to me with a smile, "Mother, how do I look?" He made me laugh and then made gestures like he was taking lint off the back of someone's clothes, and then said, "Oh, you look nice." And then while hanging onto the collar of his coat with both hands, he turned to his right and took a bow, and then turned to the left and took a bow. We both started laughing. He said, "You do know why I did that, don't you? Luella's son Julius used to do all of those gestures and things just before he left for the shop. His mother always made sure there was no dust or lint on his clothes, and she would tell him how nice he looked. Then, Julius would go outside to his mother's front yard and look all around. When I asked him what he was doing, he'd say, "The neighbors." And then I'd ask, "What about them?" Then, Julius said, "I want to say hello to them." And then I'd ask, "But why? You hate the Thompson's and the Holbrook's." Then he'd say with a smile, "Regardless. I want to say hello to them." And then I'd say to him, "You mean you want them to see you, so you can show off in your church clothes." Uncle Davis laughed some more, and so did I. He then bade me goodbye before he left for church.

I started up the full sweep on the computer. It was boring just laying there on the sofa watching the computer screen. I had to be prepared to push the enter button in case the screen went black and got ready to get turned off, as a result of being idle. In the meantime, while the computer was getting any viruses removed, I, once again, put on the George LaMond cassete, Bad of the Heart. I also listened to the song from the cassette of the same name. I then let the album play all the way through on Side A. It took thirty-eight minutes to complete the sweep on the computer. By this time, the cassette had finished playing.

After composing some poetry on the computer, I decided to, get something to eat, and, then, go to my bedroom to chill with some music from my portable CD player, and wore my headphones. The phone rang. At first, I wasn't sure if the ringing was coming from my compact disc player through my headphones, or if it was the telephone itself. So, I took off my headphones to be sure what the ringing was and where it was coming from.

The phone call was for Uncle Davis. It was Philip, the man who was renting property from him. When I told Philip that Uncle Davis was in church, he identified himself, and asked, "Could you please tell Davis to call me? It's important. The well stopped pumping water for the house. Please have him call me as soon as possible, as soon as he gets home."

I jotted the message down and went back to my bedroom to listen to some music, until I got bored. Taking off my headphones, I asked myself aloud, "I wonder what there is good on television, right now?"

The only thing on television was sports on three of the stations, and an informercial for some skin products on another station. Since there wasn't anything else that interested me on the other stations, I watched and listened to the informercial.

Uncle Davis walked into the livingroom when he returned from church, and I gave him the message. He called Philip, but he couldn't get a hold of him. "Evidently, either Philip or his wife must be on the computer, using the internet. I'm going to be worrying about the well problem until it gets resolved. Oh boy. I'll be losing sleep tonight." Uncle Davis said.

He then called some friends who live overseas, in addition to calling other family members, just to say hello, and to let them know that he was thinking of them.

"It's like I've always told you, Uncle Davis. Things have a way of working themselves out. Remember when you were worrying about your insurance when you had your car accident last year? I told you it could turn out to be a small problem that you didn't need to get stressed about, because it was easily fixable. You worried all the way up to the day of your appointment with your insurance agent. You were losing sleep for nothing. I remember how you had such a strong sense of relief. Just like with the insurance problem, this problem with the well will work itself out. Who knows? It could turn out to be no big deal." I assured him.

"I know. And you are right." he responded when the phone rang.

It was Aunt Doris asking Uncle Davis to open the garage door for her. It was raining outside and she didn't want to get wet and end up with a head cold.

He opened th egarage door for her and then went back into the living room to relax and read the newspaper for the day.

"Hello." Aunt Doris said to Uncle Davis and me, as she walked passed the living room and went straight to hers and Grandma Feldman's bedroom.

"Hello, Doris." Uncle Davis replied while holding up the newspapter in front of his own face and reading it.

"Anything good in the paper?" I asked Uncle Davis, while sitting on the sofa, rubbing my fingers against my legs.

"No. My mind isn't here." He responded while looking up at me, and then went back to reading the daily newspaper.

I took a deep breath to help me get rid of my exhaustion that had accumulated as a result of my having congestion in the lungs. I took some medicine for it the previous night, and took some more again in the morning. I felt a little better. Some of the congestion was gone, but I was exhausted, because of the medication.

"It was snowing out this morning on my way to work." Aunt Doris said while sitting down on the half sofa.

"I saw it myself when I got up this morning, Doris. But normally, I sleep until eight-thirty." Uncle Davis replied.

While relaxing in my bedroom to the sounds of Daughtry, I thought about my overall existance, analyzing my past, where I have been, where I was at, and where I was going. Sometimes I question as to whether or not I made the right choices in life, decisions that lead me to this point and time. I wondered what would have happened if my life had taken a different turn. Perhaps if I had taken a different path? What life would have been like today had I been raised by loving, nurturing parents who encouraged me. Parents who were both highly educated. The kind who would have gotten me a tutor to asssist me in the areas of study I struggled with when I was in high school on back. What if Warren Moore wasn't violent? What if he hadn't moved us out into the country? What if I never attended that little country school, but ended up staying in the Kalamazoo Public School system. It's all these "what if's" that often drive a person into madness. If these "what if's" actually happened, perhaps I could have been accepted by an ivy league university, and had a beautiful future, more prosperous in the sense of being a billionaire and getting on the cover of Forbes magazine for being a successful entrepeneur. Perhaps I would be married with children of my own; thus, passing on my guidance and wisdom. It's good to dream about all this, but it's also just as important for a person to bear in mind the reality of his own life, and face the challenges and fears that come his way in order to make a better quality life for himself.

I think about what would have happened if Grandpa Feldman never died when my mother was a little girl. Perhaps Vera would have ended up marrying someone much better than Warren. Perhaps she could have married someone who would have treated her and their children like humanbeings, instead of treating them worse than animals like Warren Moore did. I often question what my mother ever saw in him. What was so special about him that she liked him so much? The only conclusion I can possibly make is that Warren Moore conned his way into my mother's family. He was the devil behind that charming fascade. If things had turned out different for Vera, she would have never married Warren. I wouldn't have existed. What is the purpose of mpy existence? What sort of contribution am I destined to make to society? Just what am I suppossed to contribute for the greater good? I often get down on my hands and knees at night and pray to the Lord, asking him, "Please, Lord, what other purpose am I suppossed to serve in life other than to be a writer? Guide me on my quest to find what I seek in life. Thank you. Amen." I'd then get up from the floor, cross myself, climb into bed and doze for the night.

Author's Note

What do you think about the prose and dialogue?