a-liminal-curse

[a-liminal-curse]

Liminal: Part 1

The rain was pouring across the street, a small river ran down the gutter, gurgling and bubbling with tumbling leaves stuck in its flow. The man felt the rain pummeling his ankles, his feet grew cold and wet as he sat on the bench. He could almost hear a rhythm in the drums of the rain on the plastic above his head. But the man did not move. Any viewer would see nothing strange at a moment’s glance. No one would notice the soaked ankles signifying the many, many hours the man has sat. Many people would pass by, many would see the man but none would know him. He was just the man, the stranger in the corner, the fellow traveler waiting for their bus.

The man mused in his thoughts, as he often did. The same thoughts tumbling through his mind with the same consistency of the little river he knew so well. Leaves of inspired thought tumbled through his mind with exceeding rarity. The stranger everyone knows, but never talks to. The cold rain never bothered him anymore. It used too, a long time ago. But those days were past, time had stretched on his life before having faded from recollection. Now he was just the stranger, nothing more.

The man sat at the bus stop. Watching the few people come and go living lives he wished he had. Our stranger, you see, was no ordinary man. He was one who had studied the old ways, searched for knowledge in forbidden texts and dark decrepit dungeons. His greed and lust for life had led him to a prison of his own making. He had cast a spell, The irony of now living in a magic-less world was not lost on him, his spell had been one of eternal life. It was meant to allow him to live forever surrounded by comfort and plenty, going and doing as he wished. But he was too greedy. He had pushed everyone else aside, lost all chances to live any life and so he was stuck. Stuck in a body that never changed, in a life that never grew, he was stuck.

The stranger expected to watch until the very world fell away beneath his feet. But something happened, something he never could have expected. It started on that rain filled day, with his wet socks and the sound of drums in his head. He saw her walking towards his little bus stop and thought nothing of it, until he looked again. You see most people hid beneath their portable coverings, bundled beneath their thick coats shivering against the howls of the sky. But this one did not. Her coat seemed one size too large with colors of every shade painted onto its bright yellow surface. Her portable covering hung by her side, closed. Wires trailed from her ears into her pockets and raindrops beaded beneath her chin and above her eyes. A grin seeming to challenge the very elements splayed across her face. The stranger regarded her with curious eyes. Ah curiosity, a feeling so lost in the thoughts and beliefs of the modern day. The woman glided to the bench and sat staring out into the storm with wonder-filled eyes.

Our stranger took a moment to study this unnatural occurrence, as one would study a tumbling leaf in a gutter. The woman seemed to be but a couple summers younger then himself, before he became stuck in his curse. Her wonder and attention to the storm was something he had not seen for many decades. The desire to hide from the elements to avoid the drops of rain had seemed to be deeply ingrained in the very hearts of the people but this one was different. The stranger turned from his study that had gone unnoticed. The man let out a small sigh as he sat waiting for his eventual shift. But the day was not out of oddities for him yet.

“Hey,” The man almost jumped, he hadn’t imagined that, right? The man turned to face the woman sitting on the bench with him. “Crazy weather we’re having right?” the question was asked with a grin and humor in her bright eyes. The stranger was confused but his mouth twitched upwards into a smile.

“Most people would say the same thing with a little more despair in their voice.” The stranger had an internal thought, How long had it been since he had spoken to someone. Obviously awhile, the sound of his voice had surprised him.

The woman snorted with a small chuckle in response to his words. It had been a long time since he had the pleasure of hearing someone laugh. “Yeah, well I'm not most people, in fact I'm pretty sure most people would tell you I'm a little screwy in the head.” The woman’s smile was infectious and the man found himself grinning at her words.

“Their loss then.” the words had flown out of his mouth before the stranger had registered them. Once he did however his mind reeled and he felt embarrassment flush his cheeks. Had it really been so long since he had talked to someone that he could not control his own words. His rampant thoughts were interrupted by the woman’s laughter. The crinkle of her jacket caught his attention as he spotted a small painted leaf on the cuff.

“My, my, my, aren’t you smooth. I mean we’ve only just met. I don’t even know your name yet.” The stranger tried to push his face into a scowl as the woman stared at him with that same infectious grin and mirth. His attempts were futile. ‘My name’s Jennifer.” The woman with reckless abandon seemed to trust him as an old friend. It was beyond confusing for him. For centuries he had been subject to curious glances or been outright ignored never before had someone been so persistent in conversation. His mind drifted through memories for a moment searching for a name. He had long since forgotten his.

“Mark, my name’s Mark.” The woman’s-Jennifer’s- large grin grew even wider. But before she could reply the sound of an engine broke through the static of the weather. The bus pulled up to the two individuals and the screeching of brakes in need of replacing brought the strange chariot to a stop.

“Well mark, this is my ride. You coming?” Mark gently shook his head, he had never been able to board the large chariots his curse kept him firmly rooted on the bench. “Well, It was nice meeting you Mark, maybe I’ll see you around.” Mark watched as the strange woman boarded the bus, a smile on her face and rain drops still dotted her brow. The bus pulled away with a loud groan from its engine. It shuddered and passed around the corner vanishing from view. The man-Mark now- sat for a few more moments. Then he felt the shift.

[a-liminal-curse]

Liminal: Part 2

The shift was a frustrating and humiliating experience that no longer held any shame for the man. It was simply a reminder of his folly, a never-ending testament to his shattered pride. The man for once in a long time did not fight the shift, he let the familiar feel of old magic well up inside his body and as he breathed out he vanished from the bus stop. When he reopened his eyes, it was dark. The night sky gleamed with countless stars as a desert plain stretched out before him. The man did not care for the view. He had been many places over the centuries trapped in his curse and he had many centuries more to view the world. Instead he let his mind dwell on the strange woman he had met. Her laugh, the colors on her coat and her wonderfully strange and infectious smile. Mark as he had now decided to call himself did not register the few people that passed him as he sat and thought, nor did he pay attention when he appeared in a crowded and busy train station, with hundreds of people and many, many, trains. He thought long and hard about his encounter with the woman. It had defied everything he had experienced previously. Eventually the man dismissed the strange event as a coincidence, a strange happenstance of probability and luck. A Single time event. It was this mindset that held with the man until a week later when he found himself at that same bus stop he had spent so many days at. When once again the strange woman defied all his expectations and beliefs about the world around him. She showed up again, that same grin on her face and glint of recognition in her eyes. She remembered him. The thought was strange but not unwelcome. 

And so this pattern continued, 2 times turned to 3, 3 to 4, 4 to 8, until eventually he found himself expecting these strange meetings. They covered every subject under the sun. laughing and joking. And eventually instead of sitting on the far side of the bench Jennifer sat next to him. Their talks became long and deep. The man did his best to answer the question she asked him. Some were simple, he had no family, no friends. Others were more difficult, what bus do you take? Where are you going from here? Vague answers only delayed the truth that needed to be told. Mark was loath to ruin these wonderful meetings, once he told his story surely she would imagine him mad, But the truth needed to be said and so it was in the early spring when Mark found himself recounting his tale.

He spoke of a young boy who looked up to his father, a powerful man, with powerful magic. He told of his exploits and journeys. Of his greed and pride that proved to be his undoing. He told of how his life turned from one of a thrilling chase, to one of watching leaves fall onto a hearse. Through his tale the bus came and went. Jennifer listened with barely a sound. Her eyes which he never quite noticed their gleam bore into his. Her mouth pressed into a tight line as she listened fully and completely. Mark was confused, terrified. He knew not how to explain his feelings, his regret. But she listened and Mark told her everything.

Silence followed the end of his tale. Silence that weighed down the very corners of his soul. The kind that suffocated his mind and drowned his heart in grief and fear. And with that same unceasing and horribly misplaced trust she simply asked. “Can you show me.” Mark had no idea how to answer that question. He had never tried. never tried to be more than stuck in the background. She spoke again “Can you show me, Mark. Can you prove to me that we both aren’t just going crazy because I believe you. Please.” Mark sat in silence when he felt the shift start to come he reached out his hand and took hers. He focused and hoped it would work. The Shift grew to an imaginable depth in a way he had never felt before and it consumed him. His eyes opened to a street with many people walking along. He felt a hand squeeze his own and looked over to see wonder, amazement, and fear present in Jennifer's eyes. She looked at him and nodded. Mark with a deep breath led the way. For a long time he showed Jennifer his life. And she surprised him again. She named many of the places He had seen so many times. London, Egypt, New York. At one point she doubled over in laughter when they found themselves surrounded by sheep leaving Mark very confused.

Then they once again found themselves at that bus stop and Mark let go of her hand. They sat in silence as Mark felt the shift once again rise and swell. Oh he fought it with all his might. With all the strength he could muster, but his struggle was futile and he shared one last smile with the ever colorful woman, framed by sun-lite leaves behind her, before the shift took him away, vanishing like leaves caught in an early winter storm.

[a-liminal-curse]

Liminal: Part 3

Jennifer was a simple woman. She enjoyed traveling, music, art. She went to college, studied hard, got good grades, and didn’t get in trouble with the police. And before she moved here her life was so very simple. She was staying in an apartment a good distance away from her college campus. So she had to take the bus in the mornings to get to class. Her first day of classes she had reached her bus stop and was expecting a long day of classes and homework. The thunderstorm had been a godsend. She had always loved rainstorms, growing up in Arizona she never had many, but Oregon had them all the time and she loved it. When she had reached the bus stop there was only one other person sitting there and he just had looked so despondent, so lost. Which makes sense now knowing what she knows. Jennifer unlocked the door to her apartment as she continued to dwell on the terrifyingly strange day she had. She had been transported around the world by magic. By magic! Magic didn’t exist, it was just something from stories, something that you told to kids to inspire them. It wasn’t something that existed. And yet apparently it did.

Jennifer flopped down onto her couch. Her jacket, a familiar comfort beneath her. She looked over to a wall where she had a pin-board hanging. Across it was a multitude of pictures and notes. It was a project years in the making. A plan to travel the world and see all the wonderful sights life had to offer. It was her dream. And yet she felt that it wasn’t everything she wanted anymore. She focused on a leaf pinned to the corner of her board. Surrounding it were a few drawings and paintings that resemble many different types of leaves. She had always admired the mirrored veins leading to wild edges. To her it meant something, it meant that her life could still be full of adventure regardless of limitations, that things that seemed complicated at first could be understood. But her day had turned her beliefs upside down. Jennifer quickly drove her thoughts away from that not wanting to think about it at that moment. But it could not be so easily avoided and she found herself thinking about the wonderful and shy man she had met when she first moved here. She loved him that was true, but how did one deal with the bombshell he had dropped on her. She just wanted a clear and easy answer that she knew wouldn’t come. With a groan she abandoned her jumbled thoughts and sought the peaceful embrace of sleep.

Morning did not bring any sort of solution or relief to Jennifer’s mind. She spent day after day as she worked on her school thinking about her predicament. After a week she found herself marching to the bus stop simply to be somewhere else other than the same drably painted walls of her apartment. Finding the bench empty she sat alone, lost in thought. Her heart was screaming at her, begging her to abandon the path her parents had helped her find. The path that leads through years of college and a steady simple job, monotony if you will. Her mind railed against her heart with accounts of logic and declarations that there was no way for her to find any simple solution, that there was no possible way her dreams could ever succeed. She sat for hours and only when the sun began to set did the raging voices quiet. She watched the sunset over the rooftops. The world around was painted in a beautiful golden glow. It reminded her of her magic fueled tour around the world with Mark. She realized then just how much she hated the life she was currently living. Yes it was steady, yes it was easy, and yes it was a decent life. It just wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted to travel the world. She wanted to see all the sights she dreamed of as a child. And she wanted it so badly. And she wanted him in her life.

So it was with determination and no small amount of fear trepidation in her heart that she marched to her apartment and threw all the plans of a simple life out the window. It was a week after her decision that Jennifer was making her way towards the bus stop. With her books in hand she was prepared to head to her college campus for the final part of her plan. The bus stop came into view and a smile stole across her face. Mark was sitting there with the visage of a kicked puppy. She strode over to him and sat down beside him. Thankfully it was only the two of them there, she really didn’t need anyone else questioning her sanity. Silence reigned for a few moments before Mark spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “If you want to leave and forget this ever happened I won’t blame you.” Jennifer felt a little miffed at his comment but pushed it aside. She thought about the many months they had now known each other. The long talks that she had come to look forward to. She had made her decision some time ago.

The following conversation was short and sweet. Limited by a curse and a bus the two shared the feelings they had developed for each other. Mark shared the feelings he developed for the person who had taught him how to feel again. Who had reminded him what it is to live. Jennifer shared her admiration and love for the strange man, the one who was kind and soft. Who listened intently and treated her like a queen. Words were shared quickly beneath whispered breaths and the warm spring air. The two only had a few minutes to themselves as the bus soon appeared. Mark watched with a few tears in his eyes as Jennifer boarded the bus. Underneath his breath he muttered words he never imagined he would have the privilege to say. ‘I love you.’

[a-liminal-curse]

Liminal: Part 4

Jennifer paused at his mumbled words before giving him a smile with the same phrase returned. From there she boarded the bus and proceeded to throw the carefully constructed rigging of a simple, steady life deep into the ocean. It was no quick thing, the rigging came down hard. Dust clouds of fallout greedily swallowed her in its depths. Letters and calls from worried parents flooded her computer and mailbox. Friends who were aghast at her sudden and unexplained change. She ignored them and strove with fury and determination for the new path she had set for herself. Her schooling and the path to her goal took time. But it was time she used greatly. Time spent at bus stops became common. She and Mark lived, loved, and laughed. After years her plan had begun.

Jennifer gave up the tower that was to be her steady rock, her steady life; and she traded it for a beat up jeep and rusted keys. Jennifer travelled the world. With a note to her parents sent in the night she sold her home and all its contents. She took the things she needed and set off. As Jennifer travelled the world she took a notebook with pencil and she wrote. She wrote and wrote and wrote. She wrote about the road and the sky, the stars and miles she passed. She wrote about the people she met the beautiful things she saw and the lives she worked to help change. She shared her writings freely, posted them wherever she could. At first it went unnoticed but she did not quit, fighting with every nerve in her body to stay on her chosen course. Soon her story began to spread. She became known and her life though hard became sustainable, not comfortable as attested to by creaks in her neck gained from sleeping on backseats, but sustainable. And she laughed. Wherever she went she gave freely and received with humility. Leaves pealed off the roads under the tires of her car, floating in the wind behind her. Jennifer lived her dream and she saw the world. But this was not her only dream. She could not find peace by just her travels and life of constant travel. No, her second dream was fulfilled in the spaces in-between. With a stranger everyone sees but no one knows. She lived this dream in train stops and bus stations, In motels and Airports. Hallways became home, park benches became waypoints. And throughout them all she walked hand in hand with the unknown man.

For a long time they were happy. Hardship could not break their bond. They were grateful for their moments in secluded corners and underneath flickering street lamps in the dark. But, just as fallen leaves crinkle and crumble, bones do not stay young forever. And time began to take its toll. Outward beauty became age, youthful spirit became experience and wisdom. Until finally worn bones and strained muscles could not bear the weight of a young woman's dream. And so it was for a final time, the two met; on a bench that would take the woman he loved to her final destination, the young stranger wept. The old woman comforted him with worn and wrinkled hands, and kind and forgiving eyes. And so it was time and a curse broke a bond that nothing else could.

A few years passed before the man learned of her passing. His eternal youth had never been more of a curse, more of gut wrenching mistake. And once again the man watched those he loved pass into graves. It was years later that our stranger found himself on a bench. A storm raged above, rain drummed on the plastic above his head and he felt the soaked socks and cold feet. He felt the bitter and humid wind. And he watched leaves tumble in a river of water streaming along the edge of the road. His thoughts no longer tumbled like the leaves but bubbled like the river, feeling and thought flowed freely and with direction creating a current but not lost inside it. It was here that our unknown stranger took notice of someone walking along in the rain. An umbrella above his head, a dark rain jacket and hood hiding him from the rain and the world. The man looked down at his own jacket, once unnoticeable in a crowd, now covered in color. The individual tumbled to the bus stop before sitting on the bench. Mark took notice of the young man. Bags hung under his glazed and unseeing eyes. Mark felt a feeling well up inside of him that he hadn’t felt in awhile, pity. He felt sorry for the young soul, so seemingly lost in life. And with an inspired thought Mark leaned over and offered the lost soul a leaf in a river.

“My name’s Mark, what’s yours?”