Awakening

Awakening

         It was well past midnight when Jim left the library. The streets were cold and empty. Snow flurries danced against the black sky and a thick silence hung heavy in the air. A pack of stray dogs with knotted hair growled as Jim walked past.
         "Easy fellas," Jim said.
         "Spare some change?" a gravelly voice pierced the night. Jim spun around to find an old woman huddled in a brick doorway near his feet. Her body was wrapped in rags, and her face, shrouded in darkness.
         “I don't carry money on me. Sorry,” Jim said. She mumbled a string of curse words and leaned forward peering up at Jim. Her face, now exposed to the dull yellow street light above, showed that she was once beautiful. Strikingly so, in fact. But that beauty was now corrupted as her right cheek and eye were deformed, like mud after a rainstorm. Her expression was contorted, as if in pain.
         “What are you looking for?” she asked.
         “Nothing,” he replied.
         “Ah, but it doesn't matter if you know or not. I can see what you want and it is here and now." Jim started as if to run, but couldn't move. His palms began to sweat. “It is directly over your left shoulder dear,” she smiled, through a mouthful of rotten teeth. Jim looked over his shoulder into the empty street. Across the street he saw two figures in a doorway. There was a man, and seated on the ground in front of the man, a woman. Jim strained his neck and squinted. Through wisps of snow and sleet he could see the man on the other side of the road was looking back at him. Jim waved hello. The man waved. Jim suddenly felt nauseous. He realized he was looking at himself.
         "What the..." he muttered to himself, slowly turning back to the woman at his feet. Jim felt disoriented and dizzy. He reached for the brick wall to steady himself just as the ground beneath him began to crack. The woman looked up at him with a devious smile as her body became transparent and faded into the night. Jim was suddenly floating in a sea of darkness. No ground, no sky, no objects. Nothing in all directions. He looked at his body and it too was fading.
         “I am nothing,” he thought. A terror arose. A palpable panic shook him. And then his thoughts too began to fade. He flailed for a reference point. Any reference point. And then, the panic subsided. “I am.” This was the first day of the winter and the moon was full, and close enough to touch.

         Jim walked toward the home of his childhood friend, Marcia. As he walked, his mind was consumed with images and textures of his life. A collage of experiences thrown together as if by the flick of a paintbrush. Jim reached the house at half past eight, his breath fogged the glass as he peered in on a family gathered around the Christmas tree. He knocked on the door, but no one came. He knocked again and peered into the home. No one could hear his knocking. Strange, Jim thought. He opened the door.
         “Jim? Is that you?” Marcia put the baby on the floor.
         “It's me Marcia,” he said.
         “Oh Jim,” she embraced him and he felt their hearts melt together as they once had. Jim looked around the room he had known as a child. The room was the same.
         “Well hello Jim,” Marcia's father spoke.
         “Hello mister,” Jim said, “How about state last night. Did you watch the game?” Marcia's father looked confused and said nothing.
         “A lot has changed in the last few years,” Marcia said. She took him by the hand, and again, he felt close to her. “Come,” she said. Marcia walked with him up the stairs to a landing on the second floor. “And again,” she said, motioning him with her head and smiling at him with those eyes he had fallen in love with so many years ago. They walked up the second flight of stairs, hand in hand. The light grew dim, and the stairs seemed to extend forever. They continued to walk up stairs all night. Eventually, the house faded into darkness and they climbed into the sky. They past stars and nebulas bursting with light. The sky was teeming with life. Entire worlds collapsed around them and the universe breathed in...and out. It felt so good to be with her again. And the higher they climbed the closer they were to each other. Her hand in his, her arm in his, her body in his. As they passed a purple world, similar to earth, he realized that her body and his were the same.
         “I missed you Marcia,” Jim said.
         “I missed you so much,” she replied. They walked until they came to a set of wooden stairs with drywall on either side. As they climbed the final stair they came to a door. Upon entering they were again in Marcia's living room.
         “Well how was the trip?” Marcia's father asked, looking up from his book.
         “It was to die for daddy,” Marcia said. She turned to Jim "goodbye," she whispered with a playful look in her eye.
         "Goodbye Marcia."

         The sun was high overhead as Jim walked to class with a cup of steaming black coffee. Snow blew across the roadway in tight swirling funnels. A bearded man in a wheel chair past him and said nothing. Jim reached his classroom just as the bell rang.
         “Open your text book to chapter 32, the sociology of war.” Jim opened his text book and a handwritten note fell out.
         “I had an alright time with you last night," the note read, "Meet me at the bridge tonight. I have something to give you. -M.” Jim sat in lecture and thought about the night before. How beautiful Marcia had been in the moonlight.

         He walked home humming a soft and slow tune as he entered his home. Mrs. Singer was on the couch.
         “Hello Jim. You were out all night,” she said.
         “I know mom,” he said, “I was at Marcia's.”
         “She's no good for you Jim. She's dirty Jimmy. A very dirty girl.” Her voice was cold and guttural. “I know what you did last night too Jimmy. Up in them stars. You stay away from her and focus on your studies Jimmy.” Jim walked into the kitchen. Hung from the ceiling by dental floss were hundreds of pieces of raw bacon. Flies buzzed from one piece to the next.
         “Whats with the bacon mom?” Jim yelled back into the living room.
         “Never you mind Jimmy, momma's makin' a surprise. Pig surprise Jimmy. I know how much you like pork.” Jim walked to his room switched on the TV and fell asleep in the afternoon light.

         He awoke suddenly to a dark room. Unable to move his arm, he must have fallen asleep on it.
         “I made you pig dinner Jimmy.” Jim looked across the room and seated in the moonlight was Mrs. Singer. “I know how much you like pork Jimmy.”
         “Mom?” Jim stated, “What are you doing here?”
         “Can't a mother watch her baby sleep?” Jim tried to get up but his body was paralyzed.
         “I can't move.”
         “Then just lie there dear.” Mrs Singer began humming a lullaby and pushed strips of soft bacon in Jim's mouth. She moved his jaw with her hand.
         “Mmm bacon for my big boy,” she said. Grease dripped down his chin. Strangely exhausted, Jim fell asleep again. When he awoke again the room was dark.
         “Mom?” he asked. No answer. Jim rolled out of bed and pulled his jeans on. The screen door slamed behing him as he found his mother seated on the front porch rocking back and forth in her rocking chair with Sully, the family cat, purring in her lap.
         “She's bad for you Jimmy,” she said. “Come on back home I'll make you dessert.”
         “You're crazy mom” Jim said as he walked down the gravel driveway.
         “A special dessert!” she yelled, laughing, as he walked into the darkness.

         Marcia was waiting on the bridge. It was dark and there were no cars in sight.
         “Jim” she said, and he could see the universe giving birth to itself in her eyes.
         “Hi Marcia,” he hugged her.
         “Jim, I'm glad you came. I wanted to give you something.”
         “What is it?” he asked. Marcia reached in her pocket and pulled out a small top, a children's toy.
         “It's beautiful” he smiled, “I've always wanted my very own top Marcia.”
         “It's not the top silly,” she said. “It's whats inside that counts!”
         “Oh,” Jim felt stupid. He dropped the top on the ground and stomped on it with his boot. The red plastic shattered. He knelt down and picked up the white writhing maggot. “A worm?” he said.
         “Not just any worm,” Marcia smiled. “It's the worm. The worm that started it all. It's a magical worm Jim!”
         “Wow Marcia. I don't know what to say. Thank you!” he looked at the worm as it tried to wriggle off his hand.
         “Oopsy daisy,” he said, laughing, as he caught it with his other hand. Marica giggled. The maggot crawled to the tip of his finger as the couple watched with wide eyes. “It's absolutely beautiful Marcia.” Suddenly, a wind blew across the bridge and the maggot fell from his hand into the glassy water below.
         “Jim!” Marcia screamed. “What have you done!” Jim quickly turned and jumped off the bridge, plummeting into the icy river. The cold hit his body like jolt of electricity. He surfaced, took a gasping breath, and dove underwater again. The water was black, but the worm was emanating a white light from within. He could just see it shining against a pile of moss covered rocks at the bottom of the river. He reached for it. Grasping the worm he felt an excruciating pain shoot up his arm. Jim came to the water's surface and held his hand up to the moonlight. Blood streamed from his palm. The worm had dug into the palm of his hand. The wriggling tail disappeared into his pink flesh. Jim swam to the side of the river and lay in the frozen mud gasping for air.

         “Stand up, you want to be a student do you?” The mans' head blocked the sun. “Stand up, your training begins today.” Jim's body was exhausted. His eyes were dry and his back was sore.
         “Who are you?” he asked.
         “I am your only chance Jim. This is your world. Welcome to it.” Jim's head fell to the ground and he slipped into unconsciousness.

         He awoke on the side of the river. It was night. Marcia was sitting next to him smoking a cigarette, staring, as if to some far off place.
         "You've been asleep for a long time Jim” she said without looking at him.
         “I'm freezing. And you're smoking?" Jim said, " I didn't know you smoke Marcia.”
         “There's a lot you don't know. You better follow me.” Jim stood up, shivering and wet. He walked into the woods, Marcia kept ten feet ahead of him. The forest was thick with pine trees and the ground was soft and springy. Frogs croaked and strange rustling noises jetted past on either side.
         “Where are we going?” Jim asked.
         “You'll see,” Marcia replied, “I'm surprised you don't remember.” They walked for hours. Jim had grown up near these woods, but never had he been this far into the trees. The forest grew darker as they walked. His clothes were nearly dry when they reached the clearing. The moon shined. Marica turned to face him. She was radiant. Her shiny brown hair tucked neatly behind her ears.
         “I am the reason you exist Jim,” she said, “I am your mother and this is the time.” Jim squinted.
         “I'm confused,” he said.
         “Lay down Jim. Look up into the sky. It will all make sense soon.” Jim lay on his back, stars littered the sky like white sand on a black granite slab. Marcia began to sing, quietly at first, and then louder.

                   These are the knives that spilled his blood.
                   These are the hearts that broke.
                   These are the mortals who found true love.
                   Emerging from fire and smoke.

         The stars began to move, turning in circles above Jim's head as if his eyes were a perfect axle for the entire universe. The sky turned faster as she sang. The sun rose and set. Birds chirped in the sunlight and were silenced at dusk. Frogs emerged in the evening and disappeared at dawn. The stars spun by night creating white circles overhead. Jim felt dizzy. Sun, moon, stars. Sun, moon, stars. Sun, moon, stars. Marcia stood above him now looking down at him, her legs straddling his chest.
         “Marcia, what's happening to me?” Jim asked. When Marcia spoke her voice came from all directions. It boomed with the weight of the universe, and emanated from within his own head. “I am the destroyer of worlds, the black matter of souls.” Marcia's eyes were red and lava burst behind her irises. Behind her, the sky turned black.
         “I am the creator of life, the root of consciousness. And... I love you Jim.” Her voice softened and cracked, becoming human once again. The black sky behind her turned a soft blue. She looked at Jim with the look of a proud mother gazing at her newborn. A tear flowed down her cheek. The sun was high above her head now, and birds came from all directions landing on her arms and shoulders. She was more beautiful than she had ever been. Her skin was soft and bursting with life.
         “I love you so much,” Jim cried. Marcia smiled. She was growing. Her head towered above him now and her legs were brown and rough. Her arms stretched outward and began to grow branches. She grew into a powerful tree. Evening left as fast as it came. Marcia kept growing and her mighty trunk encircled Jim. He lay within her trunk, in a giant room. Jim stood up and with his arms outstretched, fumbled through the darkness for a wall. He felt the rough surface, then a light switch. He turned it on. White light illuminated a spiral staircase circling the inside of this tree trunk and climbing hundreds of feet into a thick fog above. Jim began to climb. Along the stairs were photos of his life. He passed his baby photos, his first missing tooth, his father, he passed his first day of school. He saw pictures of him at Marcia's house earlier that week. He came to a photo of himself, but strangely, in this photo, he appeared older. His face appeared sunken and wrinkled. His hair, thin and gray. A sadness arose in Jim's gut and traveled to his throat. He reached a large door at the top of the stairs and looked down through the belly of the great tree. The ground was barely visible below. Jim reached for an ornate brass doorknob in the center of the door. It was locked. Jim hesitated, then knocked.

         There was a pause and then the door swung inward. A rush of warm air blew past. It was dark inside. Jim entered.
         “Hello, I've been waiting for you,” the voice said from the darkness.
         “Who are you?” Jim asked.
         “I am your own self,” the voice said.
         “Its dark and I can't see you.”
         “Close your eyes Jim.” Jim closed his eyes and instantly the room was illuminated with a soft golden light. He could see the room perfectly with his eyes closed. The room was circular and on the far wall sat a short man, not taller than four feet tall. The man wore a red suit and a red top hat.
         “Hello Jim,” he smiled. Jim walked closer keeping his eyes closed. As he approached the man he felt an increasing sense of dread. His stomach began to churn and his legs began to shake. “Don't be afraid Jim,” the short man said, “I am your own self.” Jim was now directly in front of the man. The man had beady eyes and a great tuft of gray hair under his chin which appeared to be constantly growing yet not getting any longer. “Why have you come here Jim?” he asked.
         “I don't really know. I was with Marcia. I think she turned into this tree.” The old man laughed a great and deep belly laugh which echoed off the walls.
         “One doesn't turn into trees Jim,” he said.
         “Well, that's how it looked to me.”
         “Why have you come here Jim?” the man now spoke in an concerned tone with a look of kindness in his eye.
         “I want to know my self,” Jim said, still with his eyes closed but seeing everything. The man smiled a great smile.
         “Jim, I'm so happy,” he said.
         “Where do I know you from?” Jim asked
         “We've known each other forever Jim. You are my own self," he paused, "This,” he waved his arms around the room, signaling everything, "this is your own self.”
         “What should I do now?” Jim asked.
         “Nothing. Everything. It makes no difference,” the man replied and laughed that great belly laugh, which again, echoed off the walls. Then a somber look came over the man's face and he fell silent, closing his eyes. The man's body became rigid, and his red suit turned brown to match the interior of the tree trunk behind him. Jim looked around, still, with his eyes closed. He saw a second chair against a far wall. He sat in it, directly facing the man who was now indistinguishable from the interior of the great tree. Jim's chair felt rigid but comfortable. He pondered his life. His childhood. His family. Jim thought about all the hopes and dreams he had for himself. His fears. He thought about Marcia. His thoughts became feelings. And the feelings traveled through his body like weather patterns. Good, pleasant, weather and violent painful weather. He watched as the weather came, and went. And then, for a moment, Jim let it all go.
         "How amazingly strange this life is," Jim said to himself. He took a final look around the room, and then, slowly, he opened his eyes and the story of Jim blinked out of existence.