Carried By The Wind

The wind brushed through the bleached bulrushes edging Mucker's pond.
It was brisk, but not brisk enough to ruffle the skin of algae and slime
coating the pond's surface.
Nor was it brisk enough to disturb unwanted memories
buried in the murkiest corners of her mind.

She loved the wind.
In it she found a savior,
white noise placating pain.

As a small child she once cupped
a bumble bee in her tiny tender hands.
Watching it bumbled about she was unafraid,
knowing it wouldn't sting her because she loved it so much.


No one would believe her.


At one of the houses her family once rented
pictures hung on the stairway wall.
In fevered dreams, monsters would lunge out from them,
They were identically hideous creatures;
grimmacing distorted faces with thick, slobbering lips.
... they wanted her.

In these nightmares, she was either frozen and unable to move
or weighted down, heavy and syrupy; moving in the slowest of slow motion.
Escape was never an option.


Breathing in a fresh gust of fresh air, she inhaled the fragrance
of sage and earthy loam a-mix with wildflowers.
A slight breeze ruffled her hair as she studied
a grasshopper munching on a blade of grass...


Loneliness and pain had created a vacuum within her.
Sound would become muffled and indistinct
whenever it was necessary to shut out unwanted thoughts...
Drifting from the plane of everyday existence she was unaware
that all dreams, even the good ones, died in the process
...escape became her narcotic.



"What are you doing in there!"


She scrunched down on the toilet seat trying to ignore
the blatant, strident invading voice.
Trying to enjoy a book in here was uncomfortable, but at least the door locked
and allowed her a modicum of borrowed peace.


"Are you reading again!?"


Without answering she pulled the lever,
hoping to stretch out another minute or so of sanctuary before
being forced to exit and endure the drudgery of yet another unfulfilling day
shared with people who, despite being her family,
were distant and alien to her.


The flushing water rushed and swirled angrily,
a miniature maelstrom in a furious sea.
The quelling of bad thoughts was becoming a harder and harder thing to do.
The effort exacted a huge mental toll.
Although aware of the effort, she remained oblivious to the cost.

 

Through the classroom windows the world unfolded in miniature.
Playing out before her eyes like an old silent movie,
albeit one without the music or subtitles.


She wrote her own.


People cavorted across her private filmscapes but
she found their antics were quite baffling.
Animals on the other hand were an altogether different thing.
Nature was true to the spirit
...  "unto thine selves true" ... she loved that line!
They loved unconditionally.
She knew they had souls


But no one else she knew believed.


Her notebooks were covered with doodling.
Doodling infuriated Mr. Kostnichuk.
He had no way of knowing they were the abbreviated
subtitles of her internal silent movies.
They were much too subtle for the likes of him!

He only saw a mess and demanded her to stop.
She refused.
Soon he demanded she hold out her hand
... palm up.
She told him to kiss her ass.


Failing grade 8 wasn't so bad.
Summer school however was torture
but eventually though she met some kids from the city
and learned to do drugs.
Escape became easier however,
now she also paid for it hard cold cash.
Whatever ... the drug of the moment was irrelevant
... escape was still the narcotic of choice.




Patting her ballooning belly she wondered at the size of it.
Somehow, at some point, she landed into the present with a thud.
When her mind finally caught up with her body she couldn't help but marvel
at how adept she'd become at the art of escape.
I mean she could barely remember a thing!

Naturally her parents were appalled
and predicatably all her druggy friends abandoned her.
Once again she was alone ...but not for long.


... fear coiled and uncoiled deep within her gut.


Quickly she soothed the savage beast with a mixing bowl full of ice-cream,
half a box of Dad's Chocolate Chip Cookies and several glasses of chocolate milk.
After all, she was eating for two.

They sent her to gramma's which wasn't too bad.
Sure gramma drank a bit and she sometimes had a hard way about her
but it was nice to have time to herself
... gramma slept a lot.


She enjoyed the peace and quiet found on the sun-burnt prairies.
Reveling in the white noise of her beloved winds.
But she did thank God that it wasn't winter!


Escaping into the scents and sounds of her childhood
she went back in time... the lonely child exploring the cool and acrid depths of  cottonwoods ...communing with nature.
Standing beneath the chiming beauty of shady aspens she remembered
those magic moments...


She stretched prone upon the warm, dry sod of good old mother earth,
soaking up the sun.
She gloried in the soft breezes dancing on her changing body
...that another tomorrow always came never failed to surprise her.


When carried by the wind there was no time to plan, let alone dream
...dreams only existed in the dead of night wading through syrup
or being frozen solid while drooling monsters moved closer and closer ...


Watching a bumbling bumble bee gathering pollen from a butter yellow daisy
she smiled, remembering how she once loved fearlessly...
...deep inside she felt a stirring.