I look like I'm made of stone
But my skin feels like glass Deep down you can see the cracks The doubts that eat my bones "Charles, I understand what you're saying but you really need to hear what I have to say about this." said Julia. "What the fuck do you care, Julia? I mean, seriously, do we have to have this same fucking discussion every single time I bring this up?" Charles replied. They sat across from each other on a picnic bench, the warm April sunlight cast an unintended aura over the park. As the couple's bickering began, two boys ran past their table with plastic swords while yelling challenges at each other. The birds in the trees above sang to and intimidated each other in typical Spring fashion. Julia was thankful that the kid's playground was more than out of earshot. Charles' language always deteriorated with his mood. "You should know how I feel about this by now. The fact that you keep pressing it is a good indicator of how you care about this relationship." she snorted. "I wish you would just let this go, already. You're not doing anyone any good by regurgitating this nonsense story and you certainly aren't doing yourself any favors." she followed. Charles sat and stared at Julia quietly, with his head resting in both hands. He rubbed his eyes, ran his fingers through his hair, and finished his gesture of exasperation by trying to massage his own neck. After a few neck rotations, he said "Fine; I can do this shit without you if I have to.". He started to stand up and take his legs from beneath the table. "No, stop!" Julia said, as she grabbed his hand. "Look, Charles, I don't mean to make you feel like you're crazy but you are not listening to the other side of this. Please exercise some objectivity here!" she pleaded. Charles looked down at her from his standing position with disdain and motioned to the park around him with his hand. "Julia, I am thinking fucking objectively here. I am thinking about all of these people. You included. This is fucking bigger than me. It's bigger than all of us. Fuck me!" he exclaimed. Julia lowered her gaze from his and fought back hopelessness. She lifted her head to say something but Charles had broken free from her grip and began walking away. Julia called out after him "Where are you going?!". Charles said nothing and continued to walk to his car in the parking lot. As he passed under the oak trees in the park, he began to descend down a gradual hill. From the top, he could see his car in the parking lot, the boat docks, and the shimmering San Francisco Bay. In the distance, he could see the Golden Gate bridge and all the cars moving over it. A sudden thought came into his mind and it made him shudder. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head quickly, hoping to shake it out. As he got into and started his car, he pulled out his phone and hit the 4th number on his speed dial. "Yes?" a voice answered after two rings. "Did she listen to you? Is she coming?" the voice asked. Charles took a deep breath. "No. She wouldn't listen to me just as I told you she wouldn't. She thinks I'm crazy. I don't know what you expected to happen this time." he said. "Well perhaps you need a different approach, Churl." the Euro-sounding voice replied. "You know full well how important she is to the plan and she will join us whether she wants to or not." the voice followed. "Then what do you suggest, Mr. Reeve?" asked Charles with a impetuous tone. "You leave that bit of business to me and save your energy for what is coming. You have failed but it wasn't unexpected. Make your way to Anaheim , as we originally discussed. We only have a few days to prepare ourselves and saving the right people should be your goal." Mr. Reeve said cryptically. "Who do I contact in Anaheim? I don't know a single fucking person there that could ---" Charles began to ask but was cut off. "Remember your place, Churl. Be silent and do as I tell you: Travel south to Anaheim and purchase a new phone. I will send you the new number via text message. After doing this, check in at a hotel near the Fullerton Municipal Airport. Do not contact me before then." Reeve snapped. Charles replied "I understand, sir." and the phone clicked. A couple seconds later, he received a text message with a new phone number. He jotted the number on a post-it pad that he kept in his console, then opened his glove box and took out a pair of gardening shears. He grabbed his phone, removed the battery cover, took out the SIM card and held it with his teeth. Charles then got out of his car and scanned the parking lot briefly. After seeing that no one was around he raised up his arm and threw his phone to the ground. He surveyed the crippled phone and crushed the remnants with his heel. Charles got back in his car and took the SIM card from his teeth. He used the shears to cut the card in half, then threw one half to the ground next to his shattered phone. Next, Charles held the other half between his fingers and studied it. After a brief pause he put the other half of the card in his mouth and swallowed it. After placing the shears back in his glove box, he backed up his car and made his way to the interstate. "Fucking Anaheim." Charles snorted.
(2 months before the fallout at Candlestick Point Recreational Area; see part 1)
As the AC unit switched on and colder air started blowing into the office trailer, Charles picked up a paperweight and placed it on top of some papers that were starting to stir. He paused and looked at the paperweight for a moment. It was shaped like an old pine box and had the name "Tombstone" painted on the side. It was made to look like the old pine boxes that the newly dead were placed in back in the Old West. Charles smirked at the coincidence. Charles sat across from Julia at his desk. Since his office in San Francisco had closed, he had been moved to a temporary location not far from the Candlestick Point Recreational Area. In his trailer, he still was overseeing the construction and wrap-up of the park renovation. Despite the park being near finished, he still was drowning in paperwork and still had a months' worth of follow-up. He could barely see his desk when cluttered with all the paperwork and his computer. The office trailer was depressing and was straight out of the 1970's with its tan wood paneling that looked, and smelled, like his grandmother's house. The atmosphere of B.O., coffee, and fake wood seemed to crawl inside his nose and stomp over his taste buds. He hated it despite knowing that it was temporary. There was barely enough room for 4 men to move around, much less have the daily meetings that Charles and his foremen held in here. There was, however, plenty of room for Julia, Charles, and their heavy discussion. Charles was in his mid-40's and was an accomplished Project Manager, despite earning his expertise in classrooms instead of construction sites. His foremen called him "The Paper Keystone" as an endearment but he was still respected for his leadership and tact with his crews. Charles was a self-conscious man but had a wealth of confidence to hide his shortcoming. He began balding in his late teens and decided to keep his hair close-cropped to avoid the embarrassing twilight of his hairline. He was also 50 pounds overweight; his upper body a memory of his bodybuilding era. After years of office-based inactivity, his prideful musculature melted into fatty ineptitude. Despite this, he still had the affection and attraction of his wife which contributed to his confidence. Simply, Charles was good at "faking it". Julia was in her late 30's and was also a wife and mother. Her husband made a small fortune in the late 1990's by helping to develop new non-lethal Taser technology. She worked for the California government in the Parks and Wildlife department, which is how she met Charles and formed a friendship that has lasted 10 years. With her husband's success, she only worked to keep herself busy since her son was old enough to drive himself. Julia had a small but curvy build and ensured that her clothes communicated this to onlookers. When observing her walk from behind, the foremen would complain amongst themselves about such an unfairness; the insult added to the injury. Julia knew exactly what these men thought and used their inability to break from their instincts as a weapon. There were few women at her age, with her small frame, that strutted around construction sites and ordered men around. She loved it. "What are you lookin' at?" she asked impatiently. Charles looked up from the pine box to Julia and paused. When he talked, he said "I've gotta problem that I need to talk to you about. You're prolly not gonna like it." he said. Charles' accent had a faint touch of New England in it. Julia straightened in her chair and cocked her head to one side. "Why, you're not breakin' up with me, are you Charlie?" she smiled. Charles smiled back and thought lascivious thoughts as he always did when she smiled at him like that. When Charles had first met Julia back in 2000, his DNA had quickly done the necessary mental-math and told his brain that she was hot. She had all the things that Charles liked in a woman: She was strong-minded, attractive, and had a fierce southern accent. Her skin tone was amazing as well, Charles had thought. In a halfway romantic-lustful daydream, he thought to himself that her skin was like iced tea brewing in the hot sun--and she had fantastic breasts. Charles smiled back immediately and quickly glanced at the clock on the wood paneled wall, gauging. "We don't have enough time, honey. Even at your worst, you're not that fast." Julia chided. "Besides, if that was your intention you wouldn't be spendin' so much time looking at your desk." she followed. Charles smiled honestly and blushed a little. He and Julia had been having an affair for 3 years and unlike most affairs, it brought them closer and strengthened their friendship. They had successfully been able to manage their affair despite job changes and other unexpected events. "No, Julia, I'm not breaking it off. That's fricken' crazy. There aren't many ladies out there who are in my range now, y'know. I'm gettin' up there in age and waist size, babe. Besides, Jules, there just ain't that many pieces of ass like yours out there. Yours is one of a kind. It'd be like finding a fuckin' gold nugget in a stream and tossin' it away 'cause you're dumb enough to think you can find a better one." Charles said. Julia smiled a feather-light smile, acknowledging the endearment. "What's goin' on, Charlie?" she asked again. Charlie took a deep breath, then proceeded to unload everything he was told to tell her by the man named "Mr. Reeve". they struggled, together and strove to forget
but knew this was something they'd never forget he watched the quartet weave notes of magic, the songs of his childhood he would never forget sometimes it seems like time goes too fast, but the best times in life you'll never forget as a teen he walked often in a marijuana haze, but the day his friend died he could never forget when the light was gone, angels cried out in the night and the scripture ensured we would never forget while she stared at his empty place in their bed, her anger assured her she'll never forget and while each day brings so many new thoughts, i know the ginko biloba wont let me forget a halo that walked
the light in the darkened cave a fresh mound of dirt the polearm: cradled seven trumpets wail for one a million deaths wailing angel's tears prayers offered, spare the rod good of the many |
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