Wonders Inside.

People sometimes make me wonder. Wonder why and wonder how the world will come to an end. As analytical and cynical as I tend to be, this little thought never seems to escape the mess of random thoughts that inhabits my mind. It pops back every couple of hours. Sometimes for a reason, and other times just because. It’s frustrating really, because there is no answer. That is, there is no answer yet.

Now, as I sit in a lonely, humid bus stop, that thought wonders right up through some doorway in my mind. “Hello,” it says, “Strange day it is today. Seems like no one’s around.” My subconscious gives it a voice and a name.

Fredrick. Or, as my subconscious says he prefers, Freddie.

Bored as I am, I reply: “Yeah, I haven’t seen a soul since 6 am, but I doubt you’d count my cat anyway.”

“Well, you’d be surprised who I would count as a soul.”

I pause to think what that could mean. “So, what does that mean?”

“I’d say that I mean: everything has or is a soul, at least at one point in their life.”

Mentally, I give this thought one raised eyebrow. Then, deciding that it warrants it, I lower that one and raise the other. “So that means-”

“-that I consider myself a soul? Yes.”

“-that my cat does have a soul… that was what I was going to say before I was rudely interrupted.” I’m thankfully pulled out of my argument before it even begins. The bus I’m waiting for pulls in and quickly pulls away before I can so much as realize that it is my bus. I let my frustration get the better of me: “Aren’t these things supposed to give you time to climb up inside of them?”

“Not unless you plan buying a tab.” This voice isn’t one of mine, I’m fairly sure of it. I turn and see an elderly man. He seems to be about five-ten, but with the way his back slopes I’d imagine he used to be much taller.

“Bus tab?”

“Yep.” His simple answer makes me wonder if he’ll go on. I assume he noticed the look on my face as he muttered, “Useless bull-shit.”

My look didn’t disappear, however he decided that his work was done. He sat down, careful to keep from wrinkling his overly large over coat and spread himself out across the tiny bench we shared. My eyes were mildly distracted from the closeness of his twitching arm and leg when yet another bus came and went with nary an attempt to stop. After quickly noticing a bizarre shortage of passengers aboard the bus, they reverted back to the stained, scarred, and slightly shaking hands of this old man. Their light quake seems to slowly move that hand closer toward me but, not wanting to seem rude, I decided to pretend as though it were moving in the opposite direction.

“You do know why that hand is moving towards you, right?” a light, chipper, and very alarmed female voice calls to me. “Back away before it does anything.” The voice finds a suitable body and quickly becomes a small twelve year old girl, blue eyes wide with apprehension.

Although my better judgment agrees, I say “Jacquelyn… before it does anything like what? He’s a harmless old man with a shaky hand.”

“Yeah,” her light voice becomes shrill, “shaky hands that are trembling a good 3 inches closer than before!” She and I both glance at the vibrating hand.

“You raise a good point.” She smiles with a glint of happiness deep in her expression. I can tell she is just trying to put on a bit of a show to make me feel better.

“Sir,” I say, addressing the man, “I’m sorry, but would you mind leaving me more room? I’m a little…” Damn, my memory is failing. What’s the word?

“Claustrophobic, you dumbass.”

Fredrick can be so helpful sometimes.

“Claustrophobic. I’m a little claustrophobic.” I let out a pathetic weak laugh to try and cover up for myself. I may as well have done nothing. The old man lets out a small grunt but keeps his hand so near to my shoulder.

“I think you mean he moved it towards you again” Jacquelyn’s voice filtered from my brain again. This time I concur, quickly stand up, say: good day, and leave the suddenly cramped bus stop before he has a chance to reply. I turn to get one last look at the tiny enclosure and at the elderly man who now seemed to be quite taken with a poster on the wall, hand still trembling and every body part splayed out for all to see. “Strange man.”

“Yeah.” I hear both Freddie and Jacquelyn’s voices begin and stop in unison.

“Seems a lot like the mad bomber type.”

“No,” Jacquelyn, although she didn’t like the elderly man, refuses to let Freddie ever win a potential argument easily, “Just like some creepy old guy with out friends.”

“Or, like Freddie said: the Mad bomber type: someone who doesn’t fit in anymore and can’t manage to draw any sort of attention to himself.” I don’t feel too good about saying it, yet it feels too true to ignore. I get harsh looks from the both of them. “Err… Sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Neither Jacquelyn nor Freddie said that. They disappear as I look up. A smile, although confused, greets me. Somehow, it is completely perfect because there is a distinctive flaw within it. Hard to place, but I assure you, that flaw was there. I kept staring, wondering how this could be.

I may have mumbled something like “Sorry.” or quite possibly “Umm…” Then again, I may not have said anything, I was distracted so.

The smile falters and I look up to take in the bigger picture. I see what was so strangely perfect about the smile: a small gap that fits in just right with the rest of her face. Some how both work off of each other, the one with its brown hair and eyes, slim nose with glasses to match, and a decidedly overall sense of youth, while the other has its space among the otherwise picturesque teeth.

“H-hello.” I stammer because I am unsure of what to say.

“Hi.”
I don’t say anything. My mind is two steps back and one step ahead in a different direction.

“I guess you weren’t talking to me?”

“What? Oh, well, no. That is not really.”

“So, which is it?”

“The first half no, the second half yes.” Her smile widens; a sight which I’m glad to see again.

“Well, I guess that means I’ll be off.” And she was off turning left on the sidewalk before I could say another word.

“That was a little different.” I mutter out loud.

“Right back at you.” Her voice echo’s around the corner. Embarrassed she heard that, I slump my shoulders and just keep walking. Scanning the horizon, I truly notice the haze that hangs over this city. It breaths, suffocates, and consumes this city. It flows evenly and everywhere. It seems to add a hard to describe weight to each person, dragging them down and forcing them to accept this horrible reality.
Sometimes I think we will be our own demise.

“ ‘Sometimes’? I think you mean all the time.”

“Just when ever you’re here”

“Right, and that is all the time”… I must admit, Freddie has a point. “Damned right I have a point. Other wise you wouldn’t need me” I don’t have anything to say, so I say nothing. I just keep walking, pretending that Freddie said nothing. “You can’t ignore me forever… I’m trapped in your mind for Christ sakes.” Even imaginary people aren’t happy with there place in life.

Ironic isn’t it? That people made for their own perfect spot in life wish to have glory beyond what they have been given. Although, who’s to blame them? Certainly not me. I’d like at least a small choice of what to do: cleaning man, or maid, doctor or nurse.

Alien or Atomic beast. Although, being an Atomic beast my not be so bad. Probably even fun. “Godzilla always looked as though she were having fun.”

“Yeah, Jacquelyn, yeah she does.” I said exasperated.

“Especially when she stops on all those little tanks”

“Yeah,” Freddie interjected, “Until she had that baby Godzilla”

“That always made me wonder: How’d she have a baby if there were no male Godzilla’s for her?”

“Does it matter? Suppose she just found it...” My God, these two wonder on like they were stoners or something. Perhaps my inner being is trying to tell me something. Or perhaps I’m just slowly going crazy.

“… Yeah right, King Kong could totally kick Godzilla’s ass.”

“Only if, like, Godzilla was tired from taking care of the baby ‘zilla.”

“Don’t you two ever talk about anything important?”

“Yeah, but you never listen to us then.”

“Don’t listen to you, I don’t have much of a choice, you’re in my head.”

“Don’t remind me…” Neither of them say anything, so I keep walking.

I see a café that looks quite nice. Dark Brown trim outlines the light brown siding and there is a large window that allows you to see in, but you can only see in if you are right next to the window. Otherwise, the haze creates a wonderful yellowish wall. Walking in, I order whatever a number two is and sit down. Both the Pepper and Salt shakers look like tiny cups of coffee, and I wonder how often someone forgets their actual identity, and earns a mouthful of salt. Because I all I could think about was taking a sip.

That waitress arrived, and I thanked her as she set my cup down. Interesting the things you can receive when you don’t pay attention to what you order. I haven’t the slightest clue what it is, but “interesting” sure is the word for it. First sip started off buttery then, ended with a hint of hash browns. The rest of the sips went down hill from there until all I could taste was chalk. Shrugging it off as a fluke, I stood, laid down a two dollar tip, and walked out of the café.

Although the coffee was almost excruciatingly bad, it couldn’t keep me from my thoughts. I follow my feet lost somewhere deep within my mind, no longer caring which direction I’m getting carried. That girl’s flawed smile haunts me, although in a generally good way.

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Freddie, if I wanted your opinions, I’d have asked for it… and any who, it doesn’t really matter if it makes sense or not, they’re my thoughts.”

“I’m just letting you know how this sounds from a more objective point of view.
“Thanks for the help, but I’m fine with out it.”

Now, where was I? “Obsessing over some girl.” Oh, yes that’s right…

“Damnit Freddie! Now I’m just not going to think of anything”.

“Suits me, all that thinking of yours keeps me away from the true matter at hand.”

“And that is?” I ask fearing the answer.

“The Apocalypse.”

“Oh for God’s sake.” I can’t take this. Not now. Maybe latter, but then again, maybe not ever. It seems I always comeback to this. Did I mention that already? Hmm… I suppose I must have. But now, just for once, I don’t want to think of anything… I just want to be. I use my eyes. It looks as thought I found my way home. I’m not sure how I managed to get here, nor why I’m standing in between my sunflowers. But, here I am

Taking a few steps back, I find the side walk and move towards my front door. Rough wood paneling greats my left hand as I balance while my right hand searches for the key.

“I think you left it under the lose brick.” Jacquelyn shyly points out the direction.
“Ah, of course. Thanks Jacquelyn.” She giggles and blushes, or perhaps, she blushed, than giggled. Girls of any age have a habit of confusing me. I unlock the door and step inside. Warm air flows out as hotter air wavers on in. With a single move, I close the door, lock it, head towards the kitchen, and toss my hat upon the rack. Some may call that “talent” or “skill”… I call it “the result of boredom.”
Too much boredom and you start trying to think of ways to combat it. I’ve become a victim because of it.

I don’t bother to turn the light on since my house is bright enough as it is (Painting all of the walls white will do that). I grab a sand which that I had made earlier. I head back for my couch. Thank the lord for lazy boy. My feet sigh with relief. I’m still not sure how far I walked but it must have been pretty damn far.
As I sit back and begin to enjoy my sandwich I hear: “So, about the Apocalypse.”

ˉˉˉˉ

I awaken to blurred vision. I’m only aware that I’m not in a comfortable position. Shifting my weight, I free my arms to rub my eyes. Pulling my hands away, I open my eyes again and I see carpet. I’m beginning to understand why I’m not feeling too good. I roll over and my feet fall off the couch to meet the rest of my on the floor.
“So, do you enjoy sleeping with a mouth full of rug?”

It’s too early for this. “Generally, Freddie, I prefer to stay horizontal during the night”

“Don’t we all”

“Honestly, I don’t care.” My voice is strained.

“Seems like someone wok up on the wrong side of the bed this morning- excuse me, couch.”

“I’m only half way on the wrong side, but that is enough.”

“It may not matter to you, but it is 8 o’clock”

My fuzzy brain struggles to pull 2 and 4 together. “8:00… so what?”

“It happens to be 8:00 on a weekday.”

“… Crap.” That is about the only word that sums up being late for work.

I won’t go into the whole episode because I’m pretty sure you can guess how that went. The standard “You don’t really care about this job…” Like anyone cares about being a telemarketer! Especially when they can’t even work out their own homes.
Some how I managed to not be fired, but then I’m not sure if I should actually be happy about that. A job is a job is a job…. I guess. I walk to the bus station.
Crossing my fingers, I hope for a better out come then yesterday. I sit down, and half expecting that strange guy from before to come again. “I hope he doesn’t.” Jacquelyn looks over her petite shoulder as she says this. “That man gives me the willies.” Her blue eyes search the area for the man, jumping quickly back and forth. I can see the way they bounce erratic as if playing a tiny game of ping-pong in her head. I chuckle softly amused by her childish behavior.

“What’s so funny, boy?

I give a start and turn. There he is; the old man with his shaky hands and all. “Oh, err… nothing.” I whisper to Jacquelyn “Weren’t you supposed to be looking for him? Didn’t you see him?” To which she replied “He was behind us.”

The old man unleashes his gravely voice “Seemed like it must’a been one g’damn funny joke.”

“Well, it was one of those… um… you had to be there stories.”

Silence.

It rang loudly until he decided to settle himself on the bench right along with me. I can feel Jacquelyn shiver and hear her teeth chatter, I feel sorry for her and I want to comfort her, but how? I lightly place my hand upon her shoulder. She shrikes and twists away from my touch.

The old man spreads himself out, and I twist way from him. “So,” he mutters, “You left pretty quickly yesterday.”

“Really? I didn’t notice. I guess I was just antsy or something.” Or maybe it had to do with that creepy twitching hand of yours. Instead of saying that, I just look over at his grungy, bearded face and try to smile.

The bus pulled in and I prayed a short one to God or whoever listens. Whoever was up there evidently had different plans because the bus quickly pulled out of the station. The smile on my face becomes strained and I force myself to laugh. “I think I’m going to leave. The walk isn’t that far.” He doesn’t say a word, but waves a shaky hand as a sign of indifference.

I stand, pull my pant leg from under his invading thigh, and go on my way. Jacquelyn is still holding herself by the shoulders, on the verge of ears. “Hey,”

No response.

“Jacquelyn, are you ok?”

“What do you think, you ass.” Freddie, of course.

“Jacquelyn…” I crouch and look at her. With closed eyes, she shakes her head forward, left, right, backwards. Her small body trembles. Slow, I wrap my arms around her and draw her close. This time, she doesn’t scream or flinch, she just bawls in to my shoulder as I hold her.

ˉˉˉˉ
I’m not sure how long it was until it dawned upon me what I was actually doing. I mean, I knew I was comforting this young girl, but for the longest time, I forgot that I had created her in my mind. I have to say that at the time, I don’t think I cared.
When at last I felt her trembling end, I whispered the first word that I had said for at least fifty minuets: “It’s ok.”

She pulled away for an instant than gripped me tighter. That second she was way from me I saw ho she had changed. Her hair was now styled, her boy and grown (and not just taller), she had matured, but her eyes the true difference. Behind the tears and the redness, they had lost their apprehensiveness. They seemed to know more either about themselves, or everyone around. Ether way the change was truly noticeable.

Finally I heard her say “I’m fine” and she let go. Looking at me, a smile broke across her face and then one fell across mine.

“Why are you sitting on the side of the road?” I look up, and there is that wonderfully flawed smile. But, this time I see the whole picture. This time, she looks as though she just stepped out of a catalogue. I don’t know which one because I never shop from those, but she certainly looks like someone from one of those.

“There is no better way to meet people.”

“Oh, really? And how’s that?”

“This way, you only get the kind caring types instead of the preppy kind that hang out at club, or the ones at the bar who are liable to beat you with a pool cue. I’ll take my chances this way any day.”

“Fair enough, but what if you get picked up by some crazy chick with a fetish for dog collars?”

“Than I’ll just crawl through the doggy door and be on my way.”

“Just pray you don’t get the shock collar on you first.”

“Well, I’m not into kinky stuff anyway.”

“That’s good to hear, because neither am I.” Oh, that smile of her’s fading in and out on her face so quickly. Shame it is so difficult to see through… just the tiniest of gaps and nothing more.

“I don’t think it matters, I like her.” Jacquelyn pipes her voice forward.

“…” My voice has trouble finding itself “…err… Really?”

“Yeah, she seems just right.” This is the first time I’ve ever heard Jacquelyn approve of anybody.

Concerned I say “are you feeling ok?”

She replies “Yeah, do I look sick?” Her brow folds together in worry.

“Heh…no, never mind.”

I then realize the smile has just asked a question. The rest of the face looks at me expecting an answer.

“I’m sorry,” I say to her, “I was lost in thought.” Hmm… I think I’m blushing, strange.

She laughs “I was just asking if you’d like to get some coffee.”

“That sounds…” I search for the word. “Great. That sounds great.”