Time Of No Reply - Chapter Four

TIME OF NO REPLY

Copyright 2012 by Carroll Bryant

All rights reserved

This is a short story written by Carroll Absolom Bryant. Re-posting or copying this work on your blog or website without Carroll Bryant's permission is strictly prohibited and subjected to prosecution under law. All rights to this story belong to Carroll Bryant. Any or all pictures posted in accordance with this story has been done so with the permission of those who hold the copyrights to those pictures and or are considered public domain under the Creative Commons attribution laws.

CHAPTER FOUR

His young ambitions have left him high and dry again. Why is it that happenstance creates the void for his love to be swallowed? Why must he repent for a few moments of happiness? He was younger once, with the whole world at his feet. Now he is older, and standing on the edge of a deep abyss.

Illusions are fickle. We know what they are. They are false images of a reality. What is an illusion disguised as an illusion? A wolf in wolf’s clothing?

Time passages create new beginnings and repetitiveness. Retention of the facts is one's unwillingness to learn.

Remy is on the swing. Joey is sitting on the front railing, her feet setting on the brown wicker chair. She is wearing her dark turquoise dress, unwrapping a chocolate candy bar. She breaks a small chunk off and consumes it eagerly. A bulb goes off in her head. She giggles almost endlessly. It is high pitched for only no one to hear but herself and the shadows.

She breaks off another small piece and sets it on her tongue. She closes her mouth around it for a few seconds before sticking her tongue back out and taking the chocolate into her fingers. She hops off the railing and walks over to Remy. Extending her hand, she offers him her prank. He reaches out and takes it, inspecting her before inspecting the offering. He knows what she has done. He eats it anyway. Joey shakes her head disgustingly while walking to the stairs and stopping. “You’re gross.” She smiles at the hallow sky. “I like that in a guy.”

She looks out into the yard. The storm wreaked havoc the prior evening. All was quiet now. And everything - was back to business as usual once again. She rears back and throws the candy as far as she can - making an explosion sound when it lands on the ground. Her comedic antics are lost on many. Only she can laugh at her mischievousness. Staring at her deed, she sums it up quite nicely. “Ants need to eat too.”

She pretends to always think of others. Others does not include Remy.

And once, when he was green, greener than the hill, the flowers grew and the sun shone still. Now he is darker than the deepest sea. Just a hand me down with no place to be. And once, he was strong, strong in the sun. He thought he’d see when the day was done. Now he is weaker than the pale.

Fast forward into the day.

Joey extends her arms out to touch the high grass and weeds that grew to her waist in a meadow full of empty endeavors. Remy watches from a short distance. She pretends she is an airplane. He pretends he is the pilot, flying her away into the ozone of his morbid madness. She soon stops to perform a belly-dance of constant motion and sway. She is talented when she wants to be. She is very flexible. A sultry flirt. A sadness overtakes her when she looks up and sees three buzzards flying over-head. Something is dead. Remy sees them too. He smiles. Now he realizes, he does have some friends.

Joey wanders up, standing motionless before him, looking at his decree of defiance. This is obtuse to her. Something she has never before witnessed. It is a whole new side to his personality. His smiles are swords to her joy, slicing it into many pieces and painted with sorrow. She reaches out with both hands - placing her thumbs on the sides of his mouth and pulling down to make him frown. New side or not, she didn’t like it one bit. Not one bit at all. “I’m running out of people to be.”

He wants to lean in and kiss her on the lips. She wants to just smack him half-ass silly, but it wouldn’t be prudent. This is why they are so close. They are both on the same page. The more the opposite, the better it is. The farther apart, the sweeter the view. And if he were to drown inside her pathological insanity, at least he would be doing something constructive. Still, her wit never takes a vacation. “Maybe those buzzards are here to eat you?”

How can he take up a debate with that? He turns to look back up at the sky. She may have hit onto something there. He soon tosses it out of the realm of possibility, realizing, he could never be that lucky. This day has ventured farther than either of them bargained for. It has been very exhausting, far too much excitement for his weary thoughts to handle. He writes it down as just another major sacrifice for the girl who wishes him dead. Not in a flagrant way, mind you, she just longs for some company.

Joey slides her arm under his while walking the path that leads back to humility. She has had a full day of carnage under the sun. She traveled many miles and her rampant delusions needed to rest.

Remy farmed the fields of mayhem in an inconspicuous parlor of isolation. He is tired as well. Part of being self involved requires one to understand the concept of time. For him, days pass like family, one holding onto the other.

For her, the hours withered away in a reunion of swirling dimensions. The future was an open door to the dismal. “I hate change.”

Another day passes like a ghost.

Remy packs that small bit of information into the attic of his past, making a mental note to revisit it when the time was right. His intentions for the here and now, is to assist in any way he can. He stops to look at her like a mystery that couldn’t be solved. “Hold your breath.”

This sounds more like a dare to her rather than a request. To pass it up would be ridiculously stupid. She loves to teeter on the edge of indelicacy. She takes in the deepest air to fill her lungs than she ever has before. She raises her arm up and stares at her naked wrist, pretending she has a watch around it and is keeping track of the seconds passing.

Remy is entranced by her efforts. Would she really die for him? Her face is turning blue. Should he try and save her? Would she even appreciate it? “Nothing has changed.”

Joey lets out - her skin returning back to normal. With a finger, she begins to tap her wrist, her invisible watch. She glistens with victorious exuberance. “I broke my old record.”

Take your time and you’ll be fine. And say a prayer for people there who live on the floor. And if you see what’s meant to be, don’t name the day or try to say it happened before. Don’t be shy - you learn to fly. And see the sun when the day is done. If only you see - Just what you are beneath a star that came to stay on a rainy day.

Remy stands atop the stairs on the porch. Many times he found himself there, in evening shadows, looking down further at her than he felt need to be. His telepathic messages fell on deaf ears. He always had a suspecting notion she heard them - just turned a blind eye.

Joey lifts her hand up to his face. She rubs under his chin with three fingers. His skin is smooth. He took her advice from not too long ago. Now, she regretted saying anything to him about it. She should have left well enough alone. It was too late, the train has left the station. Perhaps she could persuade him once more to do her bidding. Even when he didn’t want to. “You would look better with a beard.”

In autumn for free - Yes, be what you’ll be. Please beware of them that stare. They’ll only smile to see you while your time away. And once you’ve seen what they have been, to win the Earth just won’t seem worth your night or your day. Who’ll hear what I say? Open up the broken cup - Let Godly sin and sunshine in. Yes, that’s today.

Remy sits in the dark. In the chair that has become his brother. He strikes a match for the sake of his inferior habit, drawing in the vision at the window. His legs crossed, one over the other. She stands there an extra period of time. Unlike previous performances, she does not smile. Why is she so bitter? Joey sticks a finger into her mouth. She wets it extensively. She pulls it out and rims one of her nipples then blows gently for maximum erection.

Remy feels bad. This is more than what he paid for price of admission. He just can’t forgive himself for cheating her out of what she is obligated to receive. Her value is that of the Mona Lisa.

And open wide the hymns you hide. You find renown while people frown at things you say. But, say what you’ll say about the farmers and the fun. And the things behind the sun. And the people round your head who say everything’s been said. And the movement in your brain sends you out into the rain.

She lifts her arms and closes the curtains.