Here I go.
Melany and I spent the morning before I left in her room at her
parents' house. She made breakfast and we nibbled at the meal she'd
prepared after she and I made love for the final time. For a long while
I just sat at the end of the bed with Melany in my lap facing me, her
legs enclosed around my waist as if she was holding on for dear life.
Damned if she almost didn't make me changed my mind by doing so. In
hindsight I realize that we were tired, the two of us, only I'd finally
managed to figure out why I was tired. Melany thought she just needed a
vacation or a new job, but that wouldn't help. Melany was the family type, and she would never leave. She
would stay in her parents' house until she met a man to take her into
his home, and that would be the end of
that. We loved each other and love does transcend such differences,
but love and unhappiness make for a terrible life. I didn't
tell Melany any of this of course, and when she kissed me goodbye I
could see in her eyes that she still held hope that I would return to
her as a changed man. She believed that after my little journey I would
return a good man, a family man, and a man with a plan. The problem was
I had a plan, and it did not include staying in one place until
retirement on the off chance that I'd had a financially successful life
that would allow for a luxurious retirement. She kissed me at her
doorstep, along the path to the curb, as I opened my door, and through
the window of my truck, each kiss a terrible
nail in our coffin. She told me if I ever had a plan or knew where I
was going to be that I should call her. A smile and a nod of my head is
all I could do to tell her I’d consider it. As I drove away I sincerely
hoped that she would quickly grow to hate me so that she could move on
with her life. I didn't tell Melany any of this, because I knew I would
think about her every day for a long time to come. If there’s one thing
I hate it’s hypocrisy.
As I drove home to finish selling or giving away my things I began
to think about the places I thought I'd miss. The Bowler's Lounge,
Mick's Tavern, the Mediterranean deli where the fellas and I get lunch,
the drive along the coast on a rainy
day. Once, Jack and I were stopped at a vista point down near Carmel
and met these gorgeous girls who had just come back from sun bathing.
Jack managed to sweet talk one of them and that very night he was in
his room with her while I parked near the beach with one of her
friends. She went by Beatrice and had the most amazing voice I'd ever
heard. She said she'd thought about being a singer when she was a kid,
but that was silly. Beatrice worked at a law firm as an administrative
assistant, and she was planning to go to school in order to become some
kind of copyright lawyer. Good, I told her. That sounds awesome. The
moonlight doesn't really come in clear through misty windows but it
still lit her in such a way that if I'd been a painter I would have
done my best to remember that moment forever just so I could paint it
in different styles. I remember thinking that I used to draw as a kid,
and if I'd stuck with it I may have been able to paint Beatrice so that she could be remembered. When I
started considering the path I might have taken to become a painter I
arrived at the apartment I’d been renting.
I was packing a duffle with the remainder of my clothes when the
guys showed up. They were early, but I was nearly done. Francisco took
the stereo and speakers, which were too old to sell for anything but
still good for a garage or something, and Miggy just collected all the
miscellaneous small stuff that was still there. I told the landlord
that he could do whatever he wanted with the rest of it and he could
keep the deposit. They invited me out to lunch and although I didn’t
particularly feel like stopping for yet another farewell meal I told
them it was fine. We were once the Gentlemen of Last Days, and
although those days were well behind us we were no less close then than
back when we were high school kids rebelling against comfortable lives
and trying in vain to get laid.
If we were going to do the last meal, we were going to do it right.
They drove me down to Astro Burgers which had once been our
headquarters and home away from home. Jorge, the fat man who manned the
register every day for years, had since been replaced by a high school
kid with more acne than I was comfortable looking at. So, I looked at
the menu and told Miggy to just get me a patty melt and raspberry shake
while I got the table. The kids were out in full force by mid-afternoon
and we had to sit at a table in the middle between a couple on one side
and a giggly group of girls on the other. Nothing had changed. These
kids would continue coming here every day until they graduated high
school, at which point they would either go on to college or full time
jobs. Then of course there are the unfortunate ones who would remain
there in that restaurant for the rest of their lives. As I sat with my
arm draped over the back of the booth I glanced ahead at the gigglies
and smiled at one that was looking at me. She looked away quickly and whispered some indiscernible secret to
her friend. I remember thinking that I wish such a thing could have
been when I used to be one of the crowd at Astro Burgers.
Miggy brought the food, Francisco brought the beers. They asked what
I planned to do about money, about jobs, about repairs,
about food, about laundry. I told them I didn’t know, and they laughed
and weren’t surprised. They knew me, after all, and I knew them.
Francisco used to be monumentally fat but he lost the weight in middle
school when he started running. He became quite the popular guy
afterward, and even then he was doing well as a sales rep for a
computer manufacturer. Miggy didn’t do as well but he found his calling
as a manager at a shoe store in the mall, and he makes enough to pay
for his home and provide for his wife and kids. They were genuinely
happy, those two, and I’m glad they were. I sometimes envied that they could be so happy, but that just made me
consider that perhaps I had a problem and everyone else was fine. At
the time I couldn’t fathom such a thing because surely I had things
right and everyone else was miserable. We ate and laughed for a while
as everyone around us left and new customers streamed in. We weren’t
there enough to be known or know them, so it wasn’t quite the same as the old days.
When I’d said goodbye to them (again) I returned to the apartment
and picked up the rest of my things. I threw whatever was left into the
truck bed and closed the camper before stopping by the John, the
landlord’s, apartment and dropping off the keys. He then asked me what
my plan was, and I told him I didn’t know. He scowled and wished me
luck. As I walked away I’ll admit I did glance at my window, but only
for a moment. A room, a table, a stove… no one needs those things. I
thought I didn’t need those things. With the final step into my truck I
was officially done and I drove north to the highway with the late
afternoon sun as my only companion. The sun and I would
become very dear friends.
They told me it was dangerous, out there on the long and lonesome
highway. It seems
all manner of unsavory individual lurks along the veins that allow the
lifeblood of America to flow. It's difficult to understand when one is
used to living within the bubble, but yes it is dangerous out there.
And, well, at the time I needed some danger. I needed to get fucked up,
both physically and spiritually. I could only know about the highs when
I'd hit the disturbing lows, and so I did not doubt and drove on the
highway eager to leave the city behind. This choice would not matter
until I reached a point where no house could be seen and no other car
could be heard. I played no music and allowed the hum of the engine to
lull me into a state of numbness. I allowed this until the rest stop
north of Barstow where I stopped for a nap. I noted there that I’d
officially been gone for four hours and twenty seven minutes. It felt
the same.
I smoked the last cigarette of my
life that night while I stared at the ceiling of the truck cab that
would be my home for some time to come. A lot of things crossed my
mind, but all of them were about things I would be leaving behind. I
didn’t want to think about those things anymore. I wanted to think
about the long and lonesome highway ahead, where I realized I wouldn’t
know what to expect anymore. The plan was no plan at all, just a drive.
I could’ve very well returned to my place in the city or back to
Melany’s arms, but I didn’t. I thought about the drive
and the need to go.
And I'm gone.