“Emanate” Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 

“What are ya doin little man?”

“I’m going home.”

“Why you buyin’ lil’ Betsy then?”

“Sir, I need this boat to get home.”

“That’ll cost ya.”

 

Once again I handed over everything I had.

 

“Here ya go son. You be careful out there.”

 

I looked out and saw the flat line of the ocean.

 

“I’ll go there.”

“What’d you say?” The man said with his back turned. His sandy sandals seemed to be irritating him.

“Nothing, sir, thank you.”

 

The man sent me on my way. I left from underneath the shade of the hut in agony. I had felt the humid heat smack me in the face. It sunk into every pore with dreadful intentions. I set the small boat along the shore and rode off. The weight of the moment was unbearably isolating. I had only traveled a couple feet from shore and I had begun to question my decision making. I gripped the sides of the boat. The sharp edges cutting into my palm. I bled. I screamed. It will be fine, I thought to myself. I closed my eyes and when they opened a remarkable scene emerged around me. I peered over the edge of the boat. I saw my reflection hitting the water with a tint of purple. My reflection smiled. A sudden surge of power burst upwards. It was a large fish. I sprung backwards, almost tipping over my vehicle of safety. The gleaming fish, shone in the bright sunlight, its scales joyous with coloration. The fish plopped right into my boat, tipping it forwards. It nipped me on the nose, and flew right back into the depths of the ocean below. An island came into my sights. It deemed reasonable, but unfathomable. I gasped. A crowd of sharks circulated the boat.

 

They began to ribaldry laugh as they peaked their satanic heads above the surface. They flashed colors with their eyes and submerged back into the deep. I felt I was an inanimate figure in a play of deranged lunatics. Numbing my face with justification of this eventful world, I came upon the shore. The sandy steep shore scratched the underbelly of the boat and made me grimace. I stepped out into the land of the lost. A candor thought underwhelmed me. It said: “you are lost.” I rolled my eyes and felt the warmth beneath my feet. Glazed over the surface was vulnerability. I extended beyond my outreach and fell on my face.

 

When I awoke, the light again fell upon me. It blinded me, but soon sunk away in despair. A hand was before me. No voice, no face, just a hand. It gripped my shirt and lifted me higher. I stood on my feet. It was the oddest thing. This omnipresent hand seemed to comfort me strangely. This migratory hand garnished the air like it was set upon a trail programed in nature. It pointed and flowed. I commenced my undertaking. A wrong vision could deem miserable intolerance, but I had convinced myself to continue because I had gone too far to opt out. Imprisoned within my mind. This island humbled me with its presence. I sought out understanding, but found none. This island was absent of vegetation, absence of life, the absence of everything. So I awoke along the path, and with each step found comfort in my own little progress. Incredible was the  long island. It seemed to grow longer with each step. So volcanic with anger and beauty. Perfect was the simplicity and structure. The hand continued to direct me, until we came upon a screen. A large TV screen that obstructed me from continuing. The hand turned it on. A face looked back at me. I would say that it was me, but I had lost an image of what I looked like. A besmirch image grimmed the island and hardship foiled my languor. The scene on the screen zoomed out. The man stood tall above a miniature island. An island that resembled mine. The island that I have claimed subconsciously in my mind. A clock sat at his feet and a gun gripped in his right hand. He wore only torn shorts and scars decorated his chest.

 

“I am lost.” The man whispered. He walked up to the camera. His eyes seemed so dead, so dull.

 

“Do you hear me? You should listen. You never listen. I am lost.” He whispered again

The fear of the worst filled me to the rim. It happened. The man gripped the gun even tighter, his veins bursting above the surface of his skin. A drop of sweat fell from his brow and made a splash in the ocean.

“You are hysterical!!” the man shouted laughingly.

 

He quickly raised the gun to his head and in an instant he pulled the trigger. The blood of life splattered onto the screen and flew through the screen and splattered on my chest. A blotch of death, blackened my heart and instilled a bewilderment. A stalemate ensued within the screen and my vision. The dead man, laid on his stomach dead. His dead eyes again stared back at me, but this time with more depth. They seemed to communicate empathetically. Then the hand slapped me in the face. I gave it a stern look, but it pointed back at me in warning. The hand pulled away the TV screen and quickly threw it into the ocean. The dead man lay before me. The scope of life serviced a lot of dread. The hand pointed toward the man. The hand, picked up the clock that was pocket size and handed it to me, and rubbed my head like a father to his son. I walked over to the man and picked him up. He was quite heavy. The corpse gargled and uttered something. I was shocked. I dropped the dead weight and stumbled back and fell on my back into the ocean. The hand grabbed my shirt again and lifted me back to my feet onto the island. The being lay where I dropped him.

 

“You are magnificent.”  I said

“You.. Are too” The thing uttered.

“You want to go home?”

 

The man nodded his head back and forth in the sand, causing his hair to become dusty with soil.

 

“Me too.” I said

 

This was a chance to find companionship. This was a chance to live my life and make an escape for something greater. To find my way home would be victorious. Corrugated was the ocean and the sky began to shadow our faces with a clouded horizon. A hut appeared behind us. I dragged the man across the sand and into the small fortress for a sense of comfort. I turned him around and set him along the wall. He lay back against the wall, his hair messy with convolution, his eyes again spoke something in me. His mouth that stays open and gasping for air. It starts to move. He starts to shake violently and then jumped to his feet.

 

“Limber up.” He shouted and then fell back onto the sand like a fallen toy.

“You’re odd, but I favor your presence.”

 

“Me too.” He whispered

 

That started a journey that I would never forget. A memory I would never take off the walls. An amicable settlement in a life of running. It was an expedition of life and here I am sharing it with you.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s