Into the Light

Chapter 27

Chapter: 27

"And the heart that is soonest awake to the flowers is always the first to be touch'd by the thorns."

Thomas Moore

"News Flash on WFKD... Marilyn Monroe impersonator sues Marilyn Manson for defamation of a character while remaining Manson Family members look forward to another parole hearing, not hearing that he will never be let out... Celebrity birthdays are on hold as they all lie about their age anyway. That's a joke kids but seriously the Holy Light Brigade says it will blow up Beverly Hills so to prove that the rich that are not invulnerable to God's wrath. All they really must do is show them a tape of CampBeverly Hills and that would be enough. But seriously kids massive droughts in South America cause rioting and a contingent of musicians are going down to put on a concert for relief to the victims. Oh, by the way the Vice President died...and now for your rock block."

As the transmission is heard by the passengers and all think the same thing. Did the Vice President just die? No.

As dusk descends and transforms the land's reflections, the low lying sun showers the horizon in textured, spackled nightmare by Cezanne green as yellow lingers below the periwinkle horizon. The contours of Los Angeles come into view, an expanse of lights and districts.

Blake locates a motel on Stiggy's phone and after getting lost twice they pull into the parking lot where yellow street lamps buzz with black flies. Rows of broken Spanish tiles hang off the gutters on the second story. No ID is required and cash is handed over to a tweaking clerk who itches the side of his face.

Seeker and Clark take the room closest to the pool gate as Stiggy and Blake take the room above them. Blake tries to find a suitable place to plug in the laptop so he can dictate the word in the notebook to a more mobile form. One free outlet is found behind the single bed by the cracked window.

Seeker has become ashen since crossing the continental divide and Clark, trying to break the silence, asks if Seeker is well. His mouth crooks and he wipes away tears. Clark sits at the foot of the springy bed that gives under his weight.

"Can't help but notice the change in your condition. You dope sick?" Clark asks.

"No. Dope can't cure my sickness. I've come here to die like so many other's hopes and dreams. No more worries or pills. No invasive tests. No more hospital smells or beds. But it isn't the plague or AIDS, it's a degenerative disorder and I've been off meds for two weeks. I probably got a day or two left. Who knows?"

"I am sorry."

"Don't be. Be sorry for those who didn't have resources like I did. At least I know the truth now."

"But the truth can consist of lies until they become truth, and all lies lie within the truth," Clark says.

"You're as weird as Blake. You know what? I'm leaving, I can't sleep on Michael's dime. You should take off too. Blake is standing on a cliff and will pull you down. Be good man, I'm going to this glamorous Gomorrah," Seeker says, stands and starts to leave.

"I have no fear of Blake, neither should you. If you wish to tell them you are leaving, then do. If not, do not. I may have just met you but I do care and I thank you for your sharing of your condition, I am honored. Nothing has changed since you wrote about this place has it Nathanael? Who would have thought that the locusts would not leave but this is no Pandemonium, the city built on human selfishness where the fallen angels rule. Die well Seeker," Clark says.

Seeker stops before he opens the door, "Nathanael West right? I read that one of his characters had a Christ complex, and was an advice columnist. Had problems with cripples?"

"Something right out of Miss Lonelyheart's mouth."

Seeker hooves it as he mouths a half-finished cigarette. The city is alive, burying its dead and resurrecting fallen stars. The traffic flows and horns honk and the streets are filled with people out trying to hustle their way up the ladder. Seeker finds a corner dealer after giving a homeless man fifty bucks to point him in the right direction and goes to find a place to cook and shoot. He melds with the drug in abandoned warehouse and looks back to the distant shimmering towers of hope. He finds himself outside the outline of definition, a place of dust and coyote howls. Howling and maddening.

The next day, Clark gets a ride to the beach.