The Deal

Chapter Seven

7

 

            I was and always will be, a fisherman. The smell of the water …

The memories come flooding back. How I loved the open water, the breeze brushing on my face as we coast out to our spot. The tiny Islands we pass, I forget how much fun it is. I have never set out on the waters since… Tony.

It was part of my life, our fishing ways. After Chloe left, Tony came by and talked to me, I remember vaguely what he had said. I took it pretty hard, pouring the booze down my throat, crying and all, what a sap I was. It still hurts when I think of her and Tony. I think I became more of a mess when… when…

When Tony… I can’t,

The clouds that loom rumble like a distant thunder. A storm awaits me…

The wind is like a hurricane, the rain stings as it falls. The waves crash, and thunder rolls…

A lost vessel at sea fighting this wicked storm, fighting to stay alive, the waves roll over us trying to take me, grab me, the wind howls at me, more thunder cracks shaking my vessel… Tony grabs me as the waves roll over again… the howls are louder, the wind screams at us, the waves come once more, reaching out, the thunder claps and the waves grab hold of Tony, and I reach for him as he reaches for me, in an instant… he’s gone,

No! I shout and reach out…

I sit up gasping for air on my couch…

Nightmares come back with a vengeance.

With my hands cupping my eyes, I cry… they have come back.

 

My heart races, my body shakes. I thought I was done with them, my nightmares. I thought my time in rehab has helped me cope. Help me, to face reality. All those talks, all those dreams… I have not had one since my departure from there nine months ago. Although I tried to quit, it only lasted a few months. But I needed to face reality, needed to face my demons head on. Face the fact Chloe left me; face the fact that my brother is gone…

Gone… tears welt in my eyes…

I’m weaker now, than I am when Chloe left.

I need a drink…

 

That shot that sip, how my throat bubbles as this cold liquid satisfies my moment. I wipe away my tears and grab a couple more, before I head out on my deck. The sun is about to rise, and the colours are warming and soothing.

I don’t know what it is, or why? When I drink, it seems to calm me down, I am like a herein addict when they get that rush, that’s what it is… a rush. Will I ever see light again? I am a lost ship at sea, searching for my lighthouse. I am on a voyage, like a knight crusader wondering, looking for the cup of Christ. Only my sea is endless, the waters are vast, and I see no land in sight.

It’s dark, stormy and the wind howls as I search intensively for land, I search for something, anything to take this pain away, to take these nightmares, I fight to keep my vessel afloat, I fight for my survival, my existence, my boat crashes the waves that try to take me… I am about to give up when,

A light flickers… out there, it’s to far, and can I make it? Can I… can I?

 

The doc removes his glasses and wipes his eyes, and then he puts the book down, he gathers a moment before he speaks.

“Powerful, my friend, powerful words… This is good, real good. I’m glad you are starting to open up. How it makes me want to cry,” again he wipes his eyes. “I think this way is great for you. I like those words you’ve written; I am at the edge, and memories. I like how you have put them, described it purely.”

I say nothing; I am lost for words, until,

“You said to be true to myself and so, I tried.”

“You certainly have outdone yourself, Lawrence. I have not expected this. This… is remarkable. I think, no wait, let me rephrase that. Let me put a challenge to you.”

“Challenge?”

“Yeah, this will be a great way to describe them.”

“Describe what?” I ask with some confusion, some fear.

“I want you to use these words you have put in your book here,” he points to my journal. “I want you to use, I am at the edge, and the word, memories. It doesn’t have to be right away, but it would be nice to see, what you come up with. How about it?”

“I think you’re crazy, doc.” I shake my head.

“You game?” he smiles.

“Okay, doc.” I nod and shake his hand. “You got yourself a bet.”

Reviews

[Norma M Sutton]

It is very hard to look into the depths of pain and . . . guilt. To own them. This is very well done.