III. A Leap Of Faith

my whole life was a leap of faith. i was always desperate and small. and so, so afraid.

a small man. i was a low and lonely little creature. obedient and dutiful. but small.

when i started to get sick. when things started to get scattered. my wife left.

i was the recipient of secrets. little sounds. impossible things.

i was the recipient of visions. sometimes loving visions. sometimes fearful visions.

but it was too much for Claire.

she tried. the best anyone could try. but i got more scattered. she suggested a doctor.

but we couldn’t afford that. no honest person could anymore.

and it got worse. it got bad. i got mean. as if the small man i was was growing.

soon there was another man in me. he was mean. i wasn’t mean. i loved her.

so much. too much. but this mean man got bigger and bigger. and so i grew. finally.

he got so big. he just about pushed me out. i told Claire. and Claire cried. and cried.

she was sorry. she said she was sorry. but i was becoming a handful. a busy, large man.

busy mind. more secrets. more visions.

one night. i dreamt of a knife. i dreamt of jagged things. i dreamt of yelling.

small things crashing and exploding. like fireworks. in slow motion.

but the fireworks were old things. in my heart. in Claire’s heart. these small things were love.

they were memories. they were us. the love between us.

and after that dream they were gone for good.

after that Claire left.

bad dreams.

i lost track of time. after Claire left. my job left. my house left. i moved downtown.

to the cheap part of town. somehow i scraped enough together to stay indoors.

and i was lucky for that. a small blessing.

but the visions got clearer. more confusing. and the secrets got meaner.

and i cried. and cried. no one knew me anymore. i don’t think i knew myself.

the mean man grew bigger. he would yell. and i would yell back.

luckily no one cares where i live. you pay by the day.

and no one cares.

the cold trains just dance and dance around this cold little room.

and no one cares.

more time skipped. hard to keep track.

as the visions got more real. my life became less.

i was so scared and small. and the mean man in me got bigger and bigger.

crowding me out. and noise. noise, noisy lies. cruel secrets. lies as big as skyscrapers.

light and magic. and i was adrift.

one night there was more noise than usual.

i couldn’t keep it out. i screamed to keep it all out.

and just like that. the snap of his fingers. and no more noise.

he was beautiful. and grand. golden yellow.

my apartment flooded with light. with love. with warmth.

and loving silence.

the walls shook gentle, in and out of reality. they were there. and then not.

they were slightly bigger. then slightly smaller. different textures. confusing.

but i was safe. he made me safe. no fear. no noise. only love. and his voice.

in me, around me, everywhere. big, warm and loving.

“be still.

and know.

i am your lord”

I. And So It Falls

it was elegant. like water. dancing and shimmering. it felt like summer. like falling in love for the first time. a stolen glance between lovers. before they know who they are to one another. a quiet grace. nerves and apprehension. and then, reward.

oh, what a reward.

it was so easy. so natural and good. i was waking up from a long, lonely dream. and oh god was it ecstasy. warm and wet. and mine all mine. i was so giddy i could hardly breathe.

the gentle dizziness of kerosene. all around me. i fondled the matchbook with one skillful hand. rubbed my thumb and forefinger together and snapped a match into another room. like cupid’s arrow. a rush of warmth erupted behind me as i walked the hall.

that little love caressed me, danced around me, up the walls and pooling like water on the ceiling. an inversion of the natural order. that little love, like kind hands all over me.

i began to hum, gentle at first.

“cupid draw back your bow, and let your arrow go”

growing bolder.

“straight to my lover’s heart, for me, for me”

selling it like an old fool in love.

loud and wild, caution be damned.

and they would sing back. all of them. just for me.

distant in my mind. but i knew, were i naked to the storm. they would be shrieking, horror and pain.

skin bubbling up like boiling water.

i put my hands to the ceiling to stroke the acrid, black cloud. to me it felt like a dream. like a warm mist on a cold day.

he promised to protect me. and he did. his love was a shield from harm. a shield from consequence. from agony. i walked in it. amongst it. protected.

flicking lit matches as i strolled the halls. past the fire exits. locked chains snaking around the bar, so no one could leave. i prepared it perfectly. just as he told.

up another flight of stairs. down another kerosene soaked hallway. shooting arrows into my lover’s heart. and up, up, up i went.

a chorus of pleas. of mercy. of fear. of curses. of howls. of tears sizzling off charred, blackened skin. they try to tear at me but his love is a shield, perfect and absolute.

up another flight and another. i dance, fire licking up my sides as their screams subside. down to the end of the hall on the very top. there stands a locked door. i raise my hand and the door buckles outward. like a ruptured submarine. fire rushes past me, now a scalding torrent. a waterfall, orange and yellow. and angry. so angry now.

the roof is sinking and rising. heaving like waves. as i walk on water. toward the edge of the roof. on the ledge. and i feel his love fading. i raise my palms toward the sky and they are blackened. hard and flaking off. like autumn leaves. they trail behind me and hang in the air. still and unmoving. despite the heat, despite the wind. small flecks of fire rain down, slow and easy. barely moving as time stills.

the apartment complex is a deck of cards.

and so it falls.

II. A Voice, Loud As God

i had a dream,

all ink and gloom.

naked and alone.

i stood.

or sat. 

or floated.

in nothing.

i felt nothing,

saw nothing.

i was simply hanging there.

in space.

there was no fear.

no love.

it was simply.

nothing.

..

gasping. deeply. forcefully. legs raising. back jolting. up, up violently.

every muscle taut as spun steel. stuck in place. for a minute. only a minute?

night time. i was home. in bed. safe.

sheets slick with sweat. hot to the touch. not warm. hot. strange.

the moody, yellow of streetlights cast a somber tone in my apartment.

it was night and i was alone. a nightmare. must’ve been.

i coughed. coughed. coughed up black dust. smelled like char.

burnt steak. faint memories of heat and cries.

weird dream.

..


he spoke to me on the radio.

tinny, thin.

like a monologue over some old cowboy tune.

“every one is so pleased with your work“

i couldn’t react.

the cork from upturned wine bottles held more life than me.

they would sit and vibrate now and then. shaking off the counter as cold trains passed

the whole city shook, in silence.

a gentle insistent vibration like background radiation near Trinity

“you will find your fee, paid in full, cash enclosed in an envelope. look behind your toilet, taped to the back, in a crack along the wall”

his voice was like a nursery rhyme whenever he spoke to me.

it had a quality to it. mickey mouse in the morbid mode

i stood back, turned to the hall and down. but everything was a little different.
maybe it was entirely different.

like someone took my furniture and all the little trappings perfectly spaced as it was for as long as i’ve lived here, and placed it in some new building.

this was my home. but i feel that i’ve never seen this building before.
maybe it was him, maybe his voice was like this.

surreal. corrupting.

a force of the unreal radiating out like psychic sonar.

poisoning understanding.

his voice interrupting the regular vibrations interpreted by the pineal sense.
turning mute floral wallpaper to stark weathered brick,
turning linoleum to tongue-in groove wood.

Was this the same reality? Was i over tired?

Maybe its normal to hear your boss through the radio.

They could be hijacking the signal. pirate radio.

it’s not as absurd as it sounds.

he must be near enough to broadcast a signal.

they clearly have the money to orchestrate something like this.

i turned down a hall i'd never seen before. instinctually i knew. i found the bathroom.

King James Translation placed neatly on top of the back of the toilet.

i knelt.

felt in the crack behind the toilet. the envelope.

“it’s all there, the total amount, but i won’t be offended if you should take the time to count”

his voice was piping in from the drain in the bath tub. i sat on the edge of the bath.

“how are you doing that?”

his voice was like god, always near.

coming from impossible places.

“simple parlor tricks, i’m sure. they occur to allow the ‘ifs’ and ‘shoulds’ extrapolated from likelihoods; to digress, to help you digest that i am god and as such you must heed my every word and turn will to deed.. to make you say: yes, oh lord”

his voice piped from the drain in the bath, slowly circulating to the sink, to the vent above the sink and outside the door. always fitting its surrounding perfectly.

“thank you”

“thank you?” he croaked

“oh lord”

“good”

the clock in the kitchen down the hall, clicked slow and insistent. the pendulum, a monolith in space. shearing reality.

“stand up, place your back flat against the wall”

reflex reaction drew me back.

strings pulling me gently into place.

silent and perfect

my vision blurred. selective portions outlining a frame similar to a human. like heat in the air but in the shape of a silhouette. it seemed so real. i couldn’t breathe. all the air went out of the room. my throat was swollen and thick. it felt dry and panicked. something was choking me. it felt like a shark was gliding in the air. it couldn’t see me. i couldn’t see it..but we both knew of the other. with hunger and apprehension.

a rush of air knocked me down and i was okay again

heaped on the floor, crumpled.

neck hard against the bathroom wall.
the strings are cut. the puppet falls.

“we have another job for you”

i sat there, out of my mind and terrified.

“down the hall is a shelf, behind the shelf is a wall, brick and worn. the brick will wear where worn and yield to hammer and point..beyond where point will take to mortar is where you will find your next order”

..

“yield to me for i am god”

with that, he left. a rush of wind. the beat of great wings.

i went down the hall, frantic and dizzy. kneeling, reverent and dazed. i took a handful of books and stacked them to the side; i took another handful and another and another. Pushing the last in a frenzy, removing the shelf and pawing at the wall to find a weakness of mortar, a difference, a variation in color.

i stared and stared at the wall. i found a hammer and a screwdriver and started chipping away at the aging mortar. dragging the mortar out and out till the brick edges were raised.
but nothing

no signs, no hints, no suggestions of a clue.

exhausted, i slept.


..


i dreamt of meat. i walked in the woods. i walked a quiet wood. past a lake. up a mountain and down. i felt at peace. serene. and as if it meant nothing, i smelled raw meat on the air. i hadn't noticed it before. the smell was everywhere and everything. i looked down. the forest floor was meat, quivering like gelatin, but meat. i looked behind me at the path i just trod. my footsteps were a fresh wound. the trees seized. imitation tree bark. imitation moss. imitation leaves. rings of mushrooms. wriggling and writhing like a wounded animal. the world was fearful.

a loud crack. metal on metal.

i snapped to. like a snake cracked like a whip.

my heart beat wild, like an old engine trying to find its rhythm.
felt like a knife wedged in my chest

the apartment shook and stamped. the cold trains move a little louder through the cheap part of town. a brick shook loose and rested by my face. startled. fully awake now. i turned the brick over. and over. but nothing. i looked into the hole from which the brick fell. a small matchbook was stuffed in the back, i read it and knew my orders.