On Life as a Sarcastic Fringehead

Don't be so hasty, I told myself before picking up my Pilot Precise V5 rolling ball extra fine pen. Maybe it's not the digital writing, but the music playlist. I use my jukebox to create my environment and, apparently, I was in need of a revamp. I won't say in this space which two songs I looped so I could concentrate on the rewrite, but today's draft is better than yesterday's, so the change in playlist helped. Hey...I said that with no qualifiers. No "I think" or "perhaps" or "maybe". It was a bold statement: today's draft is better than yesterday's. I'm getting there...

The aunt touched my hand. Then touched my shoulder. Put two hands to my face. There is barely any space between us by the time she speaks to me again. “Not all of my life, Stillwater, but all of yours.”

Close to me, in one ear, she whispers in mystical tongues. Words that soothe, compassionate words that demand, chants of praise and of calling. I knew her name to be Magnificent as she held on tight and promised me centeredness and freedom from confusion, my permanence restored. The house darkened and I was vaguely aware of Parker’s movements in and out of the room, but I don’t know how long she, Magnificent, held me and whispered to me. Hours. She kissed my forehead and I fell into a chair at the kitchen table, crying uncontrollably. I do not cry. Even after broken bones, always mine and always because of her, my mother would brag to our crazy neighbors that I cried not a single pussy tear. Walking away from her that last day, not even tears of relief. Here, in this house, I didn’t think the tears could stop coming. Magnificent wiped them away.

When I found my own words: “Did you send Parker for me?”

With a wry smile, with a beautiful and distant look, Magnificent considered her answer. “I guided her to you, yes. This is her home, she is always welcome here. I sent her your way knowing when she returned, you’d be with her. But, this is not the end, you know that. It’s barely the beginning. Rest here tonight, then get going. You’re both protected now and that’s what you needed from me.”

Parker appeared in the doorway and waited. In the silence following those final moments, she led me upstairs to a drawn bath. Such a beautiful girl as she quietly asked should she stay with me or leave me alone. She asked, but she knew. I wrapped my legs and arms around her as we dipped ourselves into the warm water. “Tomorrow,” said Parker, “we mark our path.”

[I am aware of the past/present tense changes. I'm writing trying to get the words down as the action is happening. I'll address that issue in the next draft.]