Friday, June 18, 2010

The wildlife has been disturbed. That's all, I tell myself after planting a frayed cigarette butt onto the freshly trimmed grass. The landscapers have come in and moved over all of the mole holes, gopher estates, sent the birds into a frenzy, and forced the rabbits to seek cover. Naturally, these animals, like humans after a destructive storm, are struggling to start over.  This hypothesis seems simple enough and likely, but why on earth has the gopher found its way into the chapel, not once but twice. And how did it get into that choir loft stairwell.
    The sky begins turning into a rich pink when I decide to walk around the chapel. The position of the sun has made me believe it is only three, but at the rate of the darkening clouds, one would assume it was well after dinner time.
     Over the horizon, one might think this chapel is a grand pyramid amongst a city of log cabins and rhododendron, its peak reaching as tall as the surrounding oaks making it vulnerable to mountain storms but cool in mid afternoon after the weather breaks. That's what we all wait for down here--the cool down. Almost every day, the air reaches a certain point when it can no longer hold the humidity it has been collecting. It cracks like a taut piece of paper, then rips; it pours. This cycle, in an environment of the unexpected is one thing a person can count on. I count on it. The animals count on it.
      I no longer depend on this or anything else. That black hole, instead of making me a believer has made me a nonbeliever. Turning Dexter into a 'sign' when he is probably just a coincidence is what I do to feel like I am apart of something larger and uncontrollable. This widely accepted illusion has given humans a reason to feel less responsible since the beginning of time. That, and the desire to survive.
       Maybe I will shoot Dexter. Yes, animal rights activists. I thought it. And it's not because I think he is a dumb threat and I am a trigger happy redneck. I think he is smart very very smart and plotting to hurt me. Who is to say animals can't communicate across species. Who ever said fish don't feel pain. Who assumed these creatures do not feel emotions. Chimpanzees use tools when they hunt. Their survival is truly advanced. They are learning, and since gophers go under our radars all the time; they could be developing beyond our comprehension. We just don't know and that is why I cannot believe.
      Dammit. This whole time I have not been present enough to observe. I have a nasty problem of constantly residing in my head when I need to be aware. Above me four vultures are rising on hot air above me, patiently waiting for something to die or maybe just basking their vulgar heads in the sunlight. I pull my fingers over the cool stone walls until I am in front of the chapel door. No Dexter. There appears to be no Martha. To the choir loft. Today is the day.
     I should tell you about myself in the event that I am sucked into oblivion because I am jumping. I am twenty seven, average heighted, hairy, and extremely introverted.  As a child I was freckly and athletic. Over occasions in which I run, but even a short sprint leaves my sides splitting and burning.Other than that, I would say I am unmemorable, the type of man who goes unnoticed sweeping the dust you leave behind.
     As far as an attribute that is worth noting or striking? I have beaver-like teeth. One of the personal reasons I do not like Dexter is because his appearance, speed, and general demeanor mocks me. Hey beaver teeth. It's your close relative, gopher! You can catch me you slow oaf. I know this is silly, but I can't help it. I am sensitive.
    The door, as always, appears as though it wants me to open it. So I do, and let me tell you, stranger. I jumped; leaped, gracefully even and landed on my feet upright in the darkness. I am no HP. Lovecraft and I won't  tickle your imaginations with You cannot comprehends and It was something unimaginable--that squirmy noun always used to describe an object but never illuminates it--
     No portal opened. I was not transported to any alternative universe. I did not meet god, and as far as I could reach, there was nothing just as I suspected. I was just in a very dark room with the dust (I think it was dust) swirling around me. For what I thought was a moment, this silence was comfortable, but I quickly began dreading the moment a nightmare or 'miracle' would commence. I stood the stillest I had ever stood. Then I  felt movement against my ankle; slow and deliberate. It was quiet enough to hear my chest panic, my own heart beat flushing up my neck,  into my ears, then into my temples; throbbing. The way a heavy dose of acid hits you then melts away reality, that's what this was. The loss of reality and time.
       Gus, I have been trying to reach you. Has that side of humanity dulled your intuition completely? 
       Who is this? Dexter?
       I don't know this Dexter you speak of. It's Ruth, Gus.
       Gus. Why do you keep calling me that?
       Must we start all over again just as last time?

silence.

       I don't know what you're talking about and I'd like to leave now.
       Gus, I sent you out as Tim to collect valuable information for our society. Has this been
accomplished or have you forgotten your mission.

silence.

       Listen closely Gus. If King finds out that his request have not been fulfilled, I am the one who will pay and you will inflict severe disappointment onto our gopher kind.
      Gopher!?
       Because it is hard to maintain your memory as human with all of those distractions and influences, I will
       remind you that it is year 5 of our revolution, and you were elected as Gus to live as human for five years.
       But I have a mother!
       That is nonsense. You feel alone up here. You do not belong. And further more, this is something you must believe. Allow yourself to remember, Gus and follow me.


 





      
     

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