The Sinners and The Saints

Chapter Three

I have been sitting here, on the cold wooden floor for about five hours now, the high is beginning to die down. This is my father’s study. The wall’s are olive green and the floor’s a deep oak. He has thousands of books; all different genres. He has everything from law books to Edgar Allan Poe. Personally, I prefer he’s stack of books labeled “American Poet’s”. I finger through the pages of one of the thick novels labeled “Voice’s of America”, I stumble upon one that strikes me as interesting, it is titled “America”, by Tony Hoagland. I skim the word’s that are printed onto the thin paper, I stop skimming and start reading when I see this passage.

“And then I remember that when I stabbed my father in the dream last night, / It was not blood but money/ That gushed out of him, bright green hundred-dollar bills/ spilling from his wounds, and –this is the weird part-, / He gasped ‘Thank god- those Ben Franklins were/ Clogging up my heart/ And so I perish happily, / Freed from that which kept me from my liberty.’”  – Tony Hoagland, “America”

I can relate to this, hell, it perfectly describes the ongoing theme in my life. I have lost friends over this ongoing occurrence. No one is immune to the environment that surrounds them. Overtime, the influences of your surroundings will become part of you. They will brush your skin in a stealthy manner. They will seep deep into your pores and slip into your vein’s. They will morph with your blood and flow rapidly through you. They will transform your original being into something entirely different. You will be reborn; a new beginning. I have noticed this change occur in many people.  As I have grown up with them they have become less empathic towards others. They have become solely focused on one’s self worth and independent success. They are driven by the corporate world and the internal need to be better than one another. They have learned to love money in the way that we, as people, should love each other. Who are these people, you may ask, they are American’s. We have been clogging up our hearts with money; we have left no room in their chambers for love. We do not want to be this way, we are not happy this way. Although, it is the only way we know how to live. This is due to the fact that our environment’s basic structure is built off the idea that with money come’s self-worth. However, I hope for everyone’s sake that one day they will, “perish happily,/ Freed from that which kept me [them] form my [their] liberty.”  

My thought’s are interrupted. I hear the floors creek behind me and slam the book shut. I shove it back into it’s place on the pile and erase any evidence that I’ve been here. I peek out the large arched windows to see that my dad is home. His brand new, 2014 black BMW x3 is parked in the driveway. I quickly scramble to find a way to get out, I am not suppose to be in here. Then I hear a voice and freeze. That’s not my dad... that’s, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!! I have to hide, I scurry into the slim coat closet to the right of my dad’s desk, I barely fit. My heart is beating so fast that I think it might fly right out of my chest. Adrenaline courses through my veins and my whole body aches with the memories, I cannot see that face again, not after what happened. I will not see that face again.

“Able, come out, come out, wherever you are.” That voice, the one that haunts me, the one that slips into my nightmares night, after night and deprives me of rest. That voice, it’s taunting me, again.

I hear the door’s to my father’s study open and I quiver, I sink deep into the closet and try to use the hanging coats as camouflage. I am a caged animal, I have no where to go and no where to hide. I am stuck in here with the knowledge that is inevitable that, that person will find me. I let out a quiet whimper, dammit, why did I do that? I am too frightened to think straight. I watch as light begins to stream into the dark closet, a golden sliver, it’s beautiful and warm. The sliver grows until the whole closet is immersed in it’s sunshine. I look up to see satin standing before with a large smile and extended hand.

“Able,” He say’s with cherry giggle and a smile. “Why are you hiding? Is this another game? You always loved games.”