Dana

Dana
By
Eric Z. Fox
I am a writer. Some time ago I died due to a horrible accident. I was taking my usual morning walk when four kids who had much too much to drink hit me. Not once did they slow down until three days later when they were arrested. My wife Dana was devastated though I didn't know that, see because I was dead.

The first thing I saw after the Corolla broke my hip in 16 places and my skull leaked that awful brain matter to the pavement, was everything. I saw a kaleidoscope of colors, all the sound of the universe visually dancing. It was the epitome of happiness also it was life lost. For what seemed like decades I was enveloped by this until one voice, drowned out all else.

“ What are you?” It asked in a voice that nothing could ever describe.

“ I'm dead. “ I said not even trying to hide my pain. Again the voice asked.

“ What are you?”

With just a second of thought I answered, “in pain Dana... We were trying... To... Have a baby and... And... Now on... We wanted a boy... She.. She's insisted he be called Leo... Leo Alderon Jr... My junior but now...” being cut off by the voice repeating itself.

“What are you?”

Wailing, crying for my Dana I answered most truthful of all.
“I'm a husband. Not the best, probably not even very goo…”
Again it said, “what are you?”
Falling to my knees I answered. “I... I'm a writer.”

Suddenly what felt like the slam of a door assaulted the world and I found myself in my first office. Really it was a pantry built on to this mobile home Dana and I had lived in when we first married.
On the small fake oak desk sat my old Epson typewriter next to a monstrous stack a blank sheet of paper. To the right of them was the stained glass nameplate I'd made in eighth grade. The white letters of my name glew from the light of the desk lamp. With no thought I opened the only drawer and inside was a picture of Dana. The one I always saved. She was sitting down one hand on her chin and one leg up. Her long wavy hair hung over the left side of her torso.

Shaking uncontrollably I fell to my knees, head down and solemn. Squeezing my fists I raised them and scram as loud as I could. “Dana!”

The echoes that surrounded me where alien screams of pain. They filled me, assaulting me, trying to destroy me with their regret. Hidden inside of these I heard her. Her musical voice was just a whisper but it was there. Tasting the saltiness of my tears I turned and saw the hollow door that served my office.
On shaky legs I stood up. The deep browness of the door scared me just as much of the cold metal of the knob. Still though I turned the brass knob and opened the door. It opened upon a whirlwind that scooped me up into it with no time for thought. The storm was made of memories, emotions, and the situations that always devoured men with no opportunity for denial. In it I knew she was trapped, being kept from me against her wishes. With all the power of my will I tried to see her but the memories of time were too strong.










I I


Once as a child my friend Tommy killed a cat. The cat was huge the size of a big poodle. Tommy and I were walking to school as we did on most mornings quiet from sleep and dreading the day of learning. Cutting through the prairies as always we heard a loud and angry, rrrear.
I stopped a little scared but mostly curious. Tommy however kept going as if the sound never even resonated within his ears. I could hear the crash of the grass as the feline jumped towards Tommy's face attaching itself to his lower lips with claws that look diseased as well as dirty. Tommy began to howl first in surprise then in pure horror. He slapped at the mad thing as he jumped around in an almost comic dance the tenacious cat never the less held on like grim death. A small winding began to escape from Tom’s throat. To my young years it sounded like the wind that sometimes awoke me with a fright. Broken from my shock I yelled.
“Tom drop and roll!” But already his glasses were off and his redeye’s looked like they were ready to kill. With the resolve of the man he would grow to be, he grabbed the cat under its legs and pulled. With the ripping of his own flesh the cat went to the ground, where Tom, oblivious of the eight slits of gouged flesh and gushing blood, continued to stomp its head. At least a hundred times did his legs come down as the cries, tears and blood increased with each one.
After the cat was a bloody ball of flesh and meat Tommy stopped. Still crying he turned to me and took his cracked glasses from my outstretched hand. Though I wanted to take him back home he insisted on going to school with me. Once there he was sent straight to the emergency room.

III

As a teenager may be 16 my buddy Chase and I ditched school to go catch a game of ball. The Ratliffe Ravens were the number one minor league team, which just happened to be our local team. Though no contest for the major leagues we were quite good.
So, us in our infinite wisdom decided that skipping school was justified by the eight-one stats we had accumulated this year. The game was actually quite good. The Ravens, pitching a no-hitter, won 8-0. The pops and candy bars were actually some the best I ever had. All in all it was one of the greatest times in my young life.
On the way home we met some girls. I got a pretty nasty sunburn and though it would hurt a whole hell of a lot later, for that time all was right with the world.


IV


With a slight pain I began to relive the lonely life I had as a young adult. Addicted to slightly more than a bud light in a bottle or reefer. The downward spirals of my life continued to deepen. Though, now I would like to say I was trying. I do know better.









I was working at one of the nameless telemarketing firms that sold things from books to anti aging creams. Yes, I was good at this but that says nothing since I was good at everything I actually tried. Yet still I had no drive, my ambition was being devoured by what ever I put up my nose or was smoking at the time. For nearly six years I went on like this. Being so fucked up that only my telephone job was actually feasible. Then around the time I actually began to look at myself I met her. The first time I saw her I was so deeply attracted I had to disconnect on the useless called I was taking. Her stroll was luxurious like some queen within her own court. Her long hair glided about her leather coat. Yes, it was love at first sight but it was also cautious. Following close behind her was a guy. Though big and around her age (which was 6 years below me) he just couldn't be her man. I was positive about that. He possessed a kind face and eyes but absolutely none of that savoir-faire that she would require.
To the chair on my left she sat. Instantly the sweet aroma of her perfume made its way into might brain firing off synapses that always I would associate with perfection. Her hands though small, had slender fingers, which ended in the most spectacular of nails. Not because of any shape or sharpness but because of the intricate peacocks drawn upon them. Each nail was a different interpretation of sunset that surrounded the bird.
With my heart pounding and my palms sweating I reached out and touched one. At the same time I spoke.
“ Nice, very nice. “
She turned not pulling her hands from me.
“ Thank you.“ She said just before meeting my eyes. When our eyes locked it was as if I got punched in the chest. From the look of her largening eyes (which were so brown and so piercing) and her quick chest movements I think the feeling was mutual.
“ Hi,” she said little sheepishly. “ I'm Dana.” With a short pause she continued while looking into my eyes. “And this is my friend Al.”
The chubby guy said Hi to me as my mind screamed with delight.
“ It’s such a pleasure to me you.“ I said, “my name is Leo.”
“ Leo, huh, are you a lion?”
“No because lions aren’t the kind you lovey dove.” Obviously catching my well-practiced joke she smiled.
For a few weeks we just flirted. It was quite obvious to everyone except us. Until the day she invited me to her graduation. The announcement, which was immaculate, contained that same picture that one day would adorn my desk. Me, being the shy person I was told her that I probably wouldn't go. She accepted this with a visible sign of disappointment and asked me to please try to. I promised I would try but not really meaning.
So alone, nervous, and more than a little scared I went to the bar her parents rented. With my heart pounding I opened the door to see her, my Dana looking lovelier than any person has a right to. She was wearing a very tasteful white blouse and a black miniskirt that in the future would make me howl. As I opened the door I saw her eyes brighten and she came skipping to my side where she entangled her elbow into my own.
"You made it. I knew that you would.” So did I, was what I wanted to say. But the loveliness of looking down into her face stifled that and all words. It was as if she was a super magnet and I was an iron filament powerless against her.
Without any thoughts our lips touched and from that moment on I knew that I was to be hers always. The rest of the night was a blur of dancing, and meeting her family. More than once the older women pinched her, which as I would find out later meant their approval of me. And just like that we were married two years later. Never again was I to do a drug or another woman. With her my life was complete and my boldness with everything was multiplied a hundred times. With a little bit of her urging I took a crack at writing. With more than a little bit of shock I learned I was actually adept at it
So after eight years of marriage and poverty I published my first novel. Amazingly it was an instant success and our money troubles were vanquished. With no need for her or I to work (save writing) we decided to have a baby. Every moment we were going at each other but yet no baby ever came.
With a certain amount of determination we had decided to keep at it. So for six more years and 13 books, we kept at it, day and night, night and day yet still I could not get my fill of her nor could we conceive. So one evening Dana asked if we could see a doctor. With a light kiss to her lips I told her of course and we fell asleep holding each other.




V
Seeing all these things and much more I cried, “ No! Stop! No more!” The fact that my walk was the next morning from that sweet kiss wasn't it. What caused me to scream was the realization I couldn't give her the baby she wanted.
Again I scream, “no! ” and closed my eyes. Only to realize once I opened them that once again I sat with in the pantry. With a frenzy I had never before felt I began to type.

I am a writer.....

VI
Crossing over with John Edwards

The host, John moved carefully to the man and said, “They're together.”
“Who?” Asked the young man.
“It sounds like. Diane and Lion.” With tears streaming down the man's face the taping of the show continued. Afterwards the very famous John Edwards goes to the young man who still was sitting with his head down though the audience had cleared the sound stage almost five minutes earlier.
“Hi, I'm John.” The host said putting his hands on the young man.
“I’m.. I'm Leo Alderon Jr.. “

The end
By Eric Z Fox