Fiction
With a slight breeze the fresh flowers swung within their wheat-colored baskets hung throughout. Day and night without rest coming from the nearby highway was the deep grinding routine of ground transportation. People dressed like they might have come from somewhere out of space. Their language was hard to understand.
Fiction
Like many times before, the warmth of the sun penetrated Jake's cool body. For some reason today the climate changed, he felt cold and no longer could he sense the movement of life. His weight remained shiftless in the depth of the warm earth and yet he was at peace within himself. Mankind struggles with the very will to survive, even in the twenty-first century. Life wasn't always under full control for it could become much too important.
Jake's career began in the heart of Connecticut. He worked out at a local machine shop. Being a young apprentice during the late thirty's gave him the understanding first hand into what was called the industrial revolution. The slapping of belts when machines ran sometimes still can be heard echoing in the background of his mind. Ambition became a part of his climb towards the top. Little did he realize at the time, that the same concept would someday become his undoing? They taught him early to drive for success, becoming only second to sleeping and eating. In the business world, the price for success sometimes was called greed. During hard times his mind learned to adapt.
Everything in Jake's life took second place to work. Even his family unity became stressed to its limits. The company became his only concern. Jake could never accept that he became a victim of his own greed. He socialized and worked hard to become recognized as an achiever. This groomed him for the top management slot. Friends became only the extension of work, as he gained strength within their personal internal politics. There was no hardship that he could not overcome, because the company rewarded all those that paid the price.
One morning, he remembered waking as the sun slowly edged towards his window. With a slight breeze the fresh flowers swung within their wheat-colored baskets hung throughout. Day and night without rest coming from the nearby highway was the deep grinding routine of ground transportation. Only on special occasions did the region get rest from that activity, but it never lasted very long. This became reminiscent of the year 1965, when relaxing was unheard of. The drive for some mysterious affliction captured both the youth's spirit and their soul.
Always on the go, with career and social aspirations, people never allowed themselves to relax. They became consumed by the very greed created with the atmosphere called urban organizational bliss. The bottom line was always measured by the profit gained at work, never the bottom line of human compassion. Why mankind fed on each other and tried to survive in this holy work ethics was never made clear to him.
Jake married a very fragile loving woman that gave of herself without complaining. Until one day out of the blue she passed away from a broken heart, leaving him to his only remaining love, work. It took ten years before he recognized how much he had really missed her. Working many hours at the plant did little to help him become close to what remained of his family. Vacations did not exist because he could not afford to miss what was happening at work, never wanting to accept the thought that sound decisions could be made by others. Being a part of management made him love the power of directing people. Not only did he help in setting the company rules but more important he interpreted them.
During one night he felt a strange warming effect as the clear blue sky focused into spring. At the same instant a clean sparkling sun began to wipe away the glum of what was once night. This new beginning ate away the residue of darkness and transgressed itself into what we have called a new day. It felt similar to water falling out of a glass after it was turned upside down.
A fresh new start came out of yesterday's darkness right into today's future. It was clean, it was bright, and it was the start of new life, adding to the glamour and glimmer of years past. He saw black birds increasing their flight overhead. They circled at first in a wide pattern, and then quickly bunched into a massive flock, without any signal, hundreds landed on the tree branches below. Now they became watchful guards from far above, looking on row after row of proportioned head stones. Their patterns weaved slightly within the rolling hills, some sticking out more than others, but all were a proud symbol from another day.
Off in a distance, a low rumble sound could be heard. Slowly it increased as a set of cold yellow steel jaws began breaking into the earth's chilled surface. The ground willingly accepted this repeated shock inflicted by the modern machine of power. With noticeable vibration and the added mission of concentration, the crust parted. Continuous beeping quickly blended in with increased magnitude. A group of shadows now watched the steaming earth being piled on the tops of the old corrugated sheets of steel. The early morning sun continued to cut quickly through the many leafless branches, signaling the coming of another bright spring day. Patiently resting were the black birds on their selected old tree branches watching all this new activity. Shadows from granite slabs were quickly reduced by the upward swing of the sun, forcing the complete removal of the morning dew. Only low remaining dark spots were seen behind each one of the stone markers.
The ever increasing beeping sound prevented the return of the morning silence. Reaching far beyond the earth's crust, the yellow jaw of steel continued in its task. Very little resistance had been encountered during the parting of the land. Piling the soil, and at the same time, peeling away each new layer, increased the dark vast opening. A weaving pattern of steam broke out as it reached for the bright blue open sky. Then it became dead, no more beeping or earth rumblings were heard. Spread out was the giant yellow clawed machine which now covered the opening, protecting what it had worked so hard to uncover. While on both sides two large brown mounds of fresh rich soil rested, becoming a symbol of accomplishment. A red truck that stood motionless all morning disappeared into the wilderness. The area became silent and peace returned to the green covered knoll of dead tree limbs scattered through out.
Jake woke within a pool of moist sweat, wondering what those black birds were looking at. Trying hard to forget this dream, and with that in mind, he began to smile, thinking back about what his executive friends thought of when he resigned his great position. Departing so quickly raised many questions from his staff, how could anyone throw away a successful career and leave all those financial rewards behind?
Especially after having worked forty years for one company, selling his belongings and bundling his resources into cash upset even his closest family. He drove away from the city life and its fast paced setting. No one gave it any thought when he left early that Saturday morning. He would never return or be heard from again. Leaving no forwarding address, no one could trace him since he had no knowledge where he would end up. No mail, no phone, no power reduced his life back to his early ancestors. No radio, no TV, no modern conveniences made him humble and yet he learned to survive using his own abilities. Acceptance of the simple life with all of its rewards spoke for itself.
What he left behind was mankind's material game. Struggling with that transformation knowing he lost all he worked so hard to get was not always easy. But what he gained in life could not have been bought. His paradise included the two most prized possession, serenity. Riches of man cannot be validated without the true acceptance of nature at its best. His new lifestyle of being a loner was hard at first, but quickly he learned the real value of life.
After a few years, he gained an inner strength that would never become controlled or in fact separated from his human functions. Isolation became the only inner peace he wanted to attain. Happiness replaced all that remained in his life. The body ached, vision was failing, but his emotional spirit was free. Simple functions brought him the greatest satisfaction, like sitting in the fog listing to nature’s magic of quietness. Nothing could be seen but his depth of vision. When the ebb of time became the pacing factor, what else could life offer?
Clear drops of water fell on Jake's warm relaxed body as perspiration mixed with the salt mist coming from the ocean. Opening his eyes, he was always glad that through the vision of mankind he saw another bright orange sun set which ended another beautiful day. Paradise off in the northern woods of remoteness combined with the coastal waters of life. The dreams of what is life now became the darkness of today.
Memories of the past sixty years lingered like it was just yesterday. Especially the last twenty years that he had lived within the wilderness of mankind. Today for some reason a strange force came over him. He had a strong desire to rekindle the past, looking around he found a small wooden box that had been lost and forgotten within the dust of his own past.
Opening it even surprised him. Inside was a new set of shoes, pants, jacket, shirt and even a tie. It was a sign of his once routine attire. In the corner he found some old yellow faded photos of his family. His brown frail hands slowly picked up the pictures and he trembled while sitting down. This vision from the past was once again real, no longer was it an illusion which he had tried hard to forget. Eagerly he strained to see just one more time what it was really like at home years passed.
Jake became instantly rejuvenated, getting quickly dressed in his once proud clothes, even though he felt a little awkward. Walking out of his cabin he drove into town towards the bus station. Parking his station wagon near the bay, he then walked to the bus stop. Getting a ticket cost him a thousand dollars for the 350 mile round trip? Sitting in an old wooden bench anxiously waiting for the arrival of the bus, it was a very brilliant day with many white clouds scattered throughout.
The sun hit his face while he relaxed in his normal semi rest position. A blast of air and screeching brakes forced open his eyes as the sun totally blinded him. He was surprised at the intensity of the shiny silver reflecting on his face. Taking a deep breath, covering his eyes, he stood watching the people pile out like cattle. He was only one of a half a dozen people getting back on. Being the last, to enter he sat up front where he could relax and not feel out of place.
Crossing one state line, then another, the bus stopped only once before entering what was called the NewBost City limit. This was where Boston started and it ended in New York City. What a massive metropolitan complex this area became! He could not get over how all this had changed as the bus entered in what looked like a normal terminal. What happened next was hard to understand. Before he knew it, the bus stopped at the Mid NewBost district. Twenty five years ago it was called Hartford. Walking around, he had a hard time visualizing the place and yet the area felt so familiar. He was sure it must have been once called Union Station. Trying to accept the future was very hard for Jake now.
Once outside, he entered a new world, the 21st century. The streets were clean, no utility polls, or in fact, could he find any type of hanging wires. The road surfaces were smooth with no bumps of any kind. Walking near one of the interstate entrances, a sign caught his attention. The large bold black letters greeted all who entered the highway. "Sensor Controls Required Before Entering The Interstate."
Jake couldn't understand what that meant. What looked like a new remote control system was affecting traffic. He spotted a small round disk that was suspended across the roads. This would beam a light used to control traffic. What really amazed him was that the cars had become very basic and common-looking. Most were battery operated with solar cells mounted on the roof. More than half had these large painted letters EV on their sides. He remembered seeing a sign in the bus station explaining that it stood for Electronic Vehicle. No gas stations were visible.
For sixty years he lived here in Hartford but no where could he see a sign? People stared at him like he came from outer space. Giant solar watches hung on sides of these huge buildings. He stopped and began to look around for a news stand, but found nothing but plain blank walls. He entered a building that had one of these giant watches on it. Inside, he couldn't see anything except for many different types of wall controls and one small glass covered opening. Stepping in front of it, a voice automatically rang out.
"Can I help you?"
"Maybe, I am looking to buy a newspaper."
The man looked at him somewhat strangely.
He couldn't figure out why wanting a newspaper was so hard to understand.
After a minute.
"You mean a Electronic Profile Disk?"
"Yes, I guess."
"That will be $10.00, pass me your data disk."
"I only have paper money. How will I be able to read this Profile Disk? Is there some kind of equipment that can be used to read this disk?"
The man walked out of his protective booth. "Here is a Profile Reader." Pointing to the wall controls. "This will preview the head makers. First you insert a die issue here, pull a red lever and watch the wall, pointing towards the white section of the room. Then came a picture reflection formatted on the wall. Amazing a newspaper on a disk! He scanned it by holding the red button down. Nothing was interesting. The world events covered subjects that had very little meaning for him.
Finally he understood why he wanted to come south. He thanked the man and left the building and walked back to Med Station. Having seen more than he could ever fully understand, he realized why the past has to only stay in dreams. You can never get back to the past, so why push any further?
Only one hour passed and he was ready to get back to his own paradise. Reading a pointed sign he headed towards the waiting area called, the North Bound Tram. He saw up high on one of the blank walls two enormous moving rings rotating and keeping time. Inside one ring was a solar disk. In a lifetime of dreams he could never have imagined the changes he had seen today during one afternoon in his home town. Finally before he sat, he noticed that even the seats were shaped to match the human form.
People dressed like they might have come from somewhere out of space. Their language was hard to understand. Trying to become comfortable was not easy. He felt very much out of place. Listening to any of conversation didn't help him understand what this entire new world was about. Trying to grasp why the people were so excited about a direct imaging display system called DID, which was used in their present auto system. There was also talk about a liquid crystal laminated windshield that was pre conditioned for visualization. This system allowed seeing more then one object while driving. Even the old art of driving in Mid NewBost ceased to be simple. Everything that he once knew becomes nonexistent to him.
Jake was more than ready to head home. He felt good about having a return ticket with him because he couldn't figure out how to purchase a new one. A flashing signal combined with a strange high-pitched sound caused people to stand and head towards the North TRAM gate.
He followed this group of people while trying hard to distinguish the differences between men and women. He gave up because there just was no way of telling. Once inside the bus, he wanted only to relax. What really helped was the high-cushioned seat that felt like sitting on air. Totally rested with that thought, he closed his eyes, waiting for this journey to end. He could not feel motion or hear the familiar sound of the engine running, but he knew that he was going home to his mountain of peace.
He began to visualize the sun reaching high into the heavens, and at the same time, the hilly roads rolled in and out of the darkened blue sky waiting for his return. The green land would turn blue and back to green again. There would come a time when you would see the blue of the sky match the vastness of the ocean. Resting, the motion kept his dreams alive. For some strange reason he remembered the day he saw this white sail boat breaking between the line of blue and darkness.
The wind was whipping up the ruffled sails; he could almost feel the breakers snapping against the tall straight mast. There it was skipping through the water bouncing hard on the ocean surface as the surf rolled in. He always had a question of interest in his mind as he watching this sight. Was the night reflecting the sky or water? As the boat passed the far corner of the harbor, you really never knew that the sun quickly settled behind the vast reaching mountain ranges.
During these last few seconds of dusk a young man was eagerly swimming among a variety of anchored sail boats. Between these prized possessions were different colored buoys. Some red, some green, most were faded by the sun's power. Even with the increased chill the young swimmer continued through the dark waters unaffected. Slowly he blended in with the motion of the waves as all activity stopped. The bay became quiet and serene and night had come. But the ocean waters never rested. Mother Nature used this short time period for rebuilding itself for the future day. The fragrance of fish mixed with the slow moving salt breeze.
This peaceful vision of life broke quickly. Within the dimmed light, the weather awakened Jake slowly and he began to move. Getting up he walked out of the bus, but stopped long enough to smell the salt water of his life. Checking to make sure his work gear that he had left behind was in the old station wagon. Opening the door he sat with his brown leather hands resting on that old wheel, his skin showing how well he had resisted the aging process. Looking around very carefully, he was surrounded by people that had waited for him to return and drive his old mode of transportation. With a rumbling sound, his prize of old started. Smoking and shaking it began to find its way on the road home.
The people stood by not fully understanding how an old machine like that could still run. Driving into the setting, sun the old wagon created a wedge between the mountain green and darkened sky. As the headlights pierced their way up the winding trails that Jake called home. This was his mountain of faith, nothing like home as he drove away from the old harbor of love. The yellow streamer of light directed his path upwards. What was once dirt and gravel now became black and smooth with pride. After a while the road turned back to gravel. With that the dust swirled around instantly covering his fresh tracks.
Reaching the plateau, Jake returned one more time to his untouched beauty of nature. Slowing, he always looked back making sure no one followed. Who would want to live like this? He often asked himself this question as he smiled. The flat region up ahead had become a collection for a fresh water lake as rain and melting snow would roll off the distant mountains. The dirt road now turned into two small paths created by the heavy tires and its continuous use. High grass all around began rubbing gently against the slow moving wheels.
A field of wild flowers closed out the beauty of the night. Stopping near a battered old house, far from the waters edge, he was close enough to see the moon reflecting off its mirrored surface. Fish would break the water with joy. Rings of small waves rippled through the surface reflecting many distorted moons until it became smooth again. Standing by the lake, trees leaned slightly towards the left and then to the right, adding a touch of rustic beauty.
Getting out of the station wagon he headed for a spot near the water’s edge. The weight of his small frame caused only a slight impression on the soft ground. Stopping near the bank, he sat down on a cool rock. Here was serenity and solitude that he had come to accept. Off in a distance, fog started rolling over the warm water heading towards his direction.
Slowly the light dimmed and even the reflection of the moon disappeared. Civilization as he now knew it would never interfere in this his peaceful setting. Getting up, he walked to his home, stopping at the weather-beaten door; he fumbled in his pocket for a match. Finding one, he rubbed his jagged finger nail across the blue tip, at that instant, the match jumped with a burst of light, mixing the brightness with the smell of sulfur.
All this quickly penetrated the stale air within the small cabin. A chard wick eagerly awaited the life of fire. Within a short time-frame the orange glow increased replacing the darkness of the dingy room. The burning candle cast a shadow of light on the wood burning stove which stood to one side. Across the room waited his old worn out bed? A table with two weathered chairs completed this setting. Dried fruit with strips of meat hung over the stove. Forgetting about the match as it raced down towards his dark hand, he finally flipped it into the opened door of the stove.
The light temporally dimmed and reduced the visibility in the room. Then like magic, the brightness increased. Closing the stove reduced the magnitude once more, but with a roar, the old air was being replaced with a new fresh supply. A black kettle shifted closer to the hot spot, placing a hand full of coffee on top of the waiting water.
Jake watched it sink to the bottom as the brewing action turned and twisted the grains of coffee. A wooden spoon stained by many years of boiling his drink, came to the task one more time. Adjusting the lantern allowed him the visibility of his private world. Filling his favorite cup, he grabbed a stale piece of bread and sat outside.
A slight breeze came by as he sipped the brown syrup. Watching a small circle of steam leaving his cup, he looked up into the chill of the night. The frogs and crickets echoed their true sound of nature. This mellowed and relaxed him as he sat within the bounty of his reward.
Reminiscent of the past flashed through his mind once more reaching back over fifty years when he first came here with his father. It felt like only yesterday, nothing really changes here, he thought to himself. The chanting sounds of wild ducks returning to their lake setting allowed Jake to watch them flap their wings as they hit the water. Splashing one by one with sounds of joy as they also returned home. Then they automatically formed a single line and headed off into the darkness.
With the sounds of nature in the background Jake continued to relax. His coffee cup rested endlessly on his lap, looking up into the heavens while the flickering stars gave their performance one more time against the chill of the night. He felt cold but didn't move as his eyes rolled back into a state of rest. The breeze like a feather carefully bounced off his hardened face while his head rested against the old weathered boards. It felt so good to be home.
Enchanting tale of the contrast that is growing between the "civilized" and wilderness parts of the world. I'm still wondering whether he was dead or not because you did mention him being underground at one point. And, the machine was either digging a grave or digging him up. I'm not sure. Still, food for much thought.
Reading made me think of my life and the opportunity I had in 1969 to follow my mentor to GTE headquarters in Stamford, Connecticut where I might have climbed the corporate ladder to a different world than the academic world that I chose to work in. I always, from early experience in my teens, loved the wilderness and wanted to live there. I owned a cottage once on a West Virginia mountainside overlooking a beautiful, but acidic, lake. And later built a solar passive home outside Atlanta in the forest.
When we lose touch with nature, we lose touch with our inner soul.
South Baltimore serves as the backdrop for this gripping story of three brothers leading very different lives but joined forever by the secrets of a painful family past.
Just as life during the pandemic was color-coded with different hues representing different levels of danger, life in its aftermath has become shaded in similar ways. As a self-styled “Seeker of Beauty with Beauty,” (borrowing from a quote by W.E.B.
Fiction
