to fill the void
If only for a moment’s persuasion
Hoping to help me hang on
Offering drink and herb
Soothing with words and music
To keep me diverted
From despair’s lonely door
Moving On
Man, this rush hour traffic never lets up. The windows are down and the music is popping but I’m nervous as hell about facing all those people at work. I better get over, my exit’s coming up. Damn, I missed it. I guess I’ll just keep going. Let’s check the console. If I remember right, Jimmy handed me a joint after the poker game. Where did I put it? Here it is, a big fat ugly one! You would think that a guy that’s been smoking pot as long as Jimmy has would have learned to roll a good joint by now. What the hell am I doing? Its 8:15 on a Monday morning and I’m cruising past work and lighting up a joint; me, mister reliable, mister taking care of business. So what, it’s only a job and they’ll cut me some slack. After all, my son just died and I’ve lost a lot more than an occupation. No work today, time get away.
It’s better now. The weed has my mind soothed and the wind in my face sure feels good. You know, right now I don’t really care what happens. I could even drive right into a tree and except for the possibility of coming out crippled instead of dead, the thought of it doesn’t even scare me. Like Janis Joplin said, “Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose.” Hey, pull yourself out of this morbid crap. You’ve got a lot to live for; a great home, a loving wife and family, and a high-paying job. You’re just short one son, your only son.
I need to do something before I turn into an addict or a drunk or a pile of maimed flesh on the side of the road. Who can understand this kind of loss; loss of a son and loss of a life that used to mean something to me? The guys are great but most of them have the same kind of life I do and it still matters to them. Who do I know that just doesn’t care about it, someone who knows something I don’t about getting some meaning out of life? Wait a minute, what about my old buddy Wayne? He taught me meditation and he got me through that rough patch with Gracie a few years back. He always seemed so peaceful and content with his life, even with that old pickup and dinky little apartment. We lost track of each other when I got to be such a big shot at work and thought I was too good to hang out with him. And, oh yeah, he had a teenage daughter who hung herself a few years ago. I need to talk to Wayne; he’ll know what to do!
Fading, comfortless, and alone
Wrapped in a meaningless life
Providing no warmth or shelter
Driving down lonely highway
Only the herb for company
People in my dour life
Mean nothing any more
Dare I flirt with death
One quick flick of the wheel
And pain is gone
The grim reaper my newfound friend
Hope’s light shines in faint glow
Insisting I remain for a better day
Perhaps an old friend can lend me
Comfort and reason to stay
Finding Wayne
Last time Wayne and I got together was at this great little vegetarian place where his girlfriend worked as a waitress. Vicky was closing in on forty but she still had a great body and a smile that warmed you all over. In fact, the first time they met was one night when Wayne and I came in for one of our coffee talks. We used to visit different places just to try their coffee and to see if they had a good place where we could solve the world’s problems. That particular night, we had walked into the Gemini restaurant, looked around, and found our own table in a secluded corner booth. Then Vicky walked over, flashed that killer smile of hers, and asked us what we would like. Wayne looked up at her and I might as well have been invisible for all the attention I got after that. I might have been pissed if I hadn’t been married but Wayne was such a great guy and it was a real joy to see two people connect like that. Anyway, they hit it off immediately and the Gemini became our hangout after that, at least until I got too successful to hang out with an ex-hippie who drove a pickup. What a jerk I must have been. Here was this great guy who had a crystal clear mind, a huge heart, and a boundless spirit and I couldn’t see it or appreciate it. A lot like how I treated Chris, I guess; how ironic.
Last I heard, Wayne was working near downtown Denver at a place called People House; some kind of new age place or counseling center, I think. He would make a fine teacher or even a therapist. He seemed to always know more than everyone else, even us degreed university bigots. I wonder if they’re in the phone book. It must have been at least three years since I last saw him. The way I treated him, I’d be lucky if he would even talk to me.
The following week I figured what the hell, what do I have to lose? So instead of heading home after work I decided to make a stop at the Gemini and see if Wayne or Vicki, or anyone who knew them, was still there. I hadn’t been around for awhile but maybe someone there would remember our numerous coffee talks. I walked through those same hand-carved heavy oak doors, a little more weather-beaten now but they still gave the place an air of naturalness and character. I stood there for a minute just soaking it all in, remembering all those great times we had; all the late-night talks, the coffee, the great food, the warm glow of the place, and the friendly people who worked there, all came rushing back to me.
“Sir, can I help you? Sir? Are you here for dinner?”
My attention snapped back to the present. “Uh . . . not really. I’m looking for someone, an old friend.” I turned and looked into the eyes of a stunning young girl, the kind restaurants always put upfront as hostesses. But like most of the people I remember who worked at the Gemini, she too seemed to have an air of calmness and ease that you only see from people and places that are comfortable with themselves.
“Sir, would you like to look around for your friend?”
“Sure,” I replied in a sort of half-aware response. Not like me to be so removed from the moment, but this was different. It was different because sitting in the corner looking directly at me was my old buddy Wayne. After all this time there he was in the same place where we had talked about so many different things years before. “I think I just found him,” I said, as the hostess smiled and walked away.
“How long has it been, my friend?” I said, as I approached the table. I hoped he still considered me a friend but I really didn’t know what to expect. He looked at me for a minute without saying a word. Then a smile, that wonderful, honest, accepting smile, emerged. He stood up, still without saying a word, and walked over and put his arms around me. I returned the hug and it was as if no time had passed at all. It felt just like those warm, healing times that I had taken for granted so long ago. In that instant, I remembered what it was like to be loved unconditionally by another human being. There was no withholding, no reservation, just an old friend welcoming me back.
“You’ve lost some weight,” he finally spoke.
“Well you look as good as ever. Doesn’t time ever affect you?
