He stared mindlessly at the restaurant tablecloth as he unconsciously twirled the wine in his glass; the film from the wine streaked the sides of the glass. James was a somewhat impatient person, especially for those who failed to keep his interest. His date continued to ramble on about whatever she was talking about; James stopped listening after she started on why she would rather have small dog than a big dog. With his hand firmly pressed to his face he couldn’t help wonder what the hell he was doing here, thinking to himself why, how did I get here, how did I arrive in the hell hole of Gucci purses and toy dogs? He could not help but think about what he could be doing right now instead of staring his punishment, probably for not giving that homeless man his change.

Each word that fell from her mouth dazed James, and dulled his senses. He could feel his I.Q. dropping with every second of her. If he could have a glass of her he would lock it in a ten-foot thick security vault and forget the code. He thought he would die here, forever doused in her boring life of friends and Mercedes Benz. He peered over to another table, he saw her glittering beauty, and it was like his life force ran away but came back merely to gaze at an angel. It was she, a lifesaver. Her name was Lorraine, she and James knew each other since they were nine. They had been best friends through out their lives still in touch, and at times went to parties together, but they never gave thought to a dating relationship, although there was always this unknown chemistry between them.

She was very pleasant, intelligent, and very much like James; they almost seemed to balance each other out, and whether or not they would admit it, they needed each other or the other would go crazy. Lorraine sat with another man, probably on a date as well, she seemed to be interested in this man but James could tell how she was really feeling, she, like him, hated her date. He dropped what he was doing and stood from his chair. His date had a confused look her face as her speech began to slow. He started walking towards Lorraine with only her in his vision, with no regard to his current date. He stopped at the edge of the table and greeted her.

“Hey.” Her fake interested look faded from her face, all that was left was pure excitement, her happiness to see James.

“Hey, how’s it going? What are you doing here?” Lorraine said.

“Oh nothing, just on a date.” Lorraine’s date saw that she was happier that James was there than he himself. He sighed and excused himself.

“I must go; I’ll see you around sometime.” Lorraine’s date said.

“Alright, then I’ll see you around sometime then.” Lorraine said. The gentlemen left, and James could see that his date was out the door with the gentlemen, he thought maybe they would make a good match.

“I’m sorry I ruined your evening.” James said.

“Oh no, you saved my life, he was so boring.” Lorraine said.

“My date too,” James sat down and sighed “He seemed nice though.”

“Looks can be deceiving, he couldn’t stop talking ‘bout his boat and his cars.”

“Well I’m glad you’re here to save me from the demon with shopping bags.”

“I shop.”

Yeah but it’s a little more annoying when the person talking about the shopping is a hired shopper, there’s a more irritating sound when they talk about nothing but Prada bags and whether or not green is the new black.”

“I always thought that was a stupid analogy.”
The waiter from James’ table came over to give him the bill.

“Sir, are you finished eating.” The waiter said.

“Yeah, I’m not hungry anymore.” James said. The waiter left with money for both tables.

“Let’s get out of here.” Lorraine said.

“I couldn’t think of anything better.” James said.

The night was cold but not unbearable; the snow fell slowly to the ground. The way the snow fell it seemed as thought each flake had its own personality. The night was beautiful, the Christmas lights shone upon James and Lorraine’s faces. There were not very many people around just a few couples walking, you could see the love and passion in the faces of these strangers, this was the feeling that James was looking for, this unconditional love that not even the coldest of winters could keep the heat of their feelings away. He searched almost everyday of his life for this feeling that he couldn’t get from a fashion fanatic or a random person. This was the love that sad men search for but only the righteous find. Just watching them made him long to be one of them, anyone, he didn’t care.

“People are talking.” Lorraine said.

“’Bout what?” James said

“Us.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean a lot of people think we are made for each other.”

“Do you think that?”

“Don’t know; you?”

“I, I think we’re just good friends.” No matter how many times James said that in his mind he knew deep down inside that wasn’t so.

“Maybe?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” James said confused.

“It means maybe.”

“Seriously?” James said with great intrigue.

“It means you shouldn’t read too much into what I say.”

“Whatever.” James said to expire the subject.

“My mom talks about it.”

“’Bout what?”

“Us” Lorraine said in a faint frustrated sound.

“He-He, your not going to let this go, are you?”

“Well I just want to see, I mean I’ve been thinking about for a little while, and it might be something to look into.”

“Are you serious?”

“I don’t know it’s just that we’ve both been having trouble finding someone, and-I don’t know; it just might make sense, maybe.”

“I don’t know, it’s just that, well you-and I…”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, it’s just that we’ve known each other since we were little and if it doesn’t work what will we have, we’ll lose each other.”

“Why can’t you be less difficult; why do you always have to be afraid to take a risk?”

“I’m not afraid to take a risk; it just seems that what we’re putting at stake is too much to risk.”

The conversation became an argument, both frustrated with what they want, and what they can give. Neither of them wanted to fight but it seemed almost unavoidable, the feelings were expressed but in the wrong way. Lorraine called for a cab, James seemed desperate to keep her there and to solve this matter, but Lorraine saw it differently. She opened the door with an anger that could be plainly seen; and stood at the opening of the cab.

“Open your eyes James, times are new we’re not nine anymore, we’re not looking for friends, we’re looking for someone. People aren’t as lucky as us to have already found the person for us.” She got into the cab and abruptly shut the car door.

The cab drove off, and James was at a loss for words, he knew what he wanted but he couldn’t gather the courage to grab it. It was like two people growing a vineyard, but for James, his vineyard with Lorraine was beginning to wilt. His heart became faint; the air escaped him, as he stood still on the sidewalk baffled as to what to do. This was not him, James was the kind of person that could out talk someone, he always knew what to say next, but there was nothing to say, he had succeeded in pushing her just that much further away. He tried with his whole soul not to cry, and it seemed that was a true feat of strength, he wasn’t sure he could muster that much strength, that strength that would keep the tears filled with lost love and disheartened feelings.

In James’ house he sat in the darkness. The light from the street shone the side of his face, but the light from the street was overpowered by the shadow of the darkness. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, her words haunted, tormented him, he wished with his whole being that he could scream out into the cold night air his love for this women, this women who with out her his very life force would leak from him like a pale with holes intricately poked through. He wished he could feel her breath with his, that he could be the one who cares for her when sick, or when sad or upset, he wished he could have not uttered whatever inhumane words fell from his imperfect mouth.

The next morning James still thought of the night before, but he had to get on with the day. He did as he usually does, walk to work. He only lived about five blocks from work, and he felt the walk did him more good than harm. He stopped briefly to grab a cup of coffee. As the cashier asked for the money he unknowingly said: “I miss you.” The cashier stopped, James then realized where he was and what he had said and then quickly gave the man his money. Then, in embarrassment ran out of the place after receiving his change, still thinking of her.

James ran into the street without thinking, a cab turned the corner and hit him. James head and back hit the windshield and shattered a small portion of it. The blood from his head trickled slowly down the windshield. The driver rushed out of the cab and went quickly to help him.

“Someone call an ambulance, hurry!” The driver yelled as loud as he could.
James was still conscience for a moment. Someone ran out with a cell phone to the driver, the rest of the crowd looked on in horror as his already weak eyes began to slowly close. The ambulance came and whisked him away. He was not knocked out but was soon getting there. He could see the lights of the ambulance through his eyelids; it mesmerized him. It seemed as though he had no knowledge of what had just happened. At the hospital his family had already been there. James’ mother Laura and his sister Cara were sitting in the waiting room chairs when his father Dwayne came in.

“Is he alright?” Dwayne said.

“Their working on it, we really don’t know much.” Laura said.

“Has Lorraine gotten here yet?”

“No, I called her Twenty minutes ago, she’s on her way.” Cara said. Dwayne sat down on the other side of Laura and Cara.

“Listen Dwayne, just because we’re not together doesn’t mean you have to sit over there.” Laura said. With out a word Jimmy got up sat next to Cara. He had a look of worry on his face of disbelief. After a short while the doctor came out.

“He’s still alive, he has a concussion and uhh…” the doctor hesitated for a second “He is in a coma, we’re not sure if he’ll make It.” The doctor said sadly.

“What do you mean?” Laura said. Dwayne’s face still in shock and getting worse he started to become short of breath.

“Well, Ma’am, James has an infection, from a piece of glass that got lodged into his neck. Now we’ve removed the glass but the infection is getting worse, we’re doing all we can, but he is slowly fading.”

As the words left his mouth Lorraine stood in the entrance of the waiting room in shock from what the doctor said. Laura put her hand over her mouth as she cried. Dwayne’s eyes began to swell with tears. Lorraine fell to her knees, she saw it in her head, they would never see each other again, James was her air, and now she would for sure suffocate. Lorraine began to cry, the tears fell to the ground, and each one hit the floor and pounded her heart like an earthquake. Her face became pale and her hands trembled uncontrollably. She felt as though her heart was in her stomach, she could hear every beat, feel every pumping thump of her heart throughout her whole soul.

James’ eyes opened, but he was not in a hospital. There, before a field of grass, following after it an edge where there was no grass, just a thick forest, so thick he couldn’t even see into the forest. The grass rustled in the breeze, a breeze that would once be faint then strong than faint again. His senses were intense he could hear the almost every blade of grass; feel the soft soil on his face. The breeze carried this smell of cooking; it smelled so good, almost heavenly, though he could not recall what it was he smelled. He turned over to his other side and saw a house, it was not wide but about four stories tall looked like an old English family’s house, he always loved those types of houses. He stood up and found that he was barefoot, but the grass between his toes was an incredible feeling.

He walked to this house; he felt as though he had been here all his life, he had absolutely no knowledge of what had happened, the fight, the accident, nothing. He slowly opened the door the warmth from the light greeted him; this place was homely. He stepped in and saw a room, which looked to be a kitchen; this is where the delightful smell came from. In the kitchen he could see someone, a woman, she looked familiar but his memory escaped him. She then turned around, it was Lorraine.”

“You ready to eat?” Lorraine said. He thought to himself since when did she cook? But those were not the words he said. He wanted to say them but for some reason could not.

“Yeah, of course, what are we having?” James said.

“Fried Catfish, and a stir-fry of string beans mushrooms bell-peppers and shrimp.”

“Sounds great.” James liked the other parts of the meal, but what he really wanted was the shrimp.

They sat down to eat, and the food tasted as though he never tasted it before, it was like a new experience. The rich taste made him want to eat more and more, but the food did wonders to appease his senses but little to satiate his appetite.

“Did you have a nice walk?” Lorraine said. James wasn’t sure he remembered any walk but was certain he did go for a one.

“Yeah it was good.”

After dinner they began talking, they had talked for hours, about philosophy, theory, past times. He had done this with Lorraine before, but this time seemed different, it was euphoric. He fell in love with her even more with every thing she said. Even though he grew weary and his body begged for sleep he refused, if he could, he would spend the rest of life just talking to her. He felt differently because this was not a feeling of being with her for only a moment and then leaving the next morning, this was something he wished was permanent.

“I’m tired, we should turn in.” Lorraine said exhausted.

“Yeah, sure.” James said.

They walked up a flight of stares and there were two rooms, Lorraine walked into one of them, from what was there James gathered that they were still just friends. He walked into the other one. The room was actually quite nice and a more than comfortable bed. He lay in his bed thinking of her; it seemed it was just them, in this house, this place. James slowly fell asleep, when he did his dream was blank, an endless dark abyss of nothing, but this emptiness was filled with the sounds of voices. It was his family, but for some reason he could not recognize the voice all he knew was they were familiar. The voices almost plagued him, the sound of constant weeping scared him. His family weeping over his unconscious body unknowing that he was listening but he didn’t know who was weeping.

James soon woke up from what was to him a nightmare. He walked out of his room and noticed two separate showers for both Lorraine and James. The bathroom was neat and clean, the bathtub next to the toilet, and the sink in front of the toilet, it was not an extravagant bathroom but James didn’t mind, he liked it more than he disliked it. In the shower the voices started to come back to him, it was his family. It came as an epiphany, a realization that he should have already known about. Something in the back of his mind made think there was something more to this haven.

He finished his shower and walked out; both he and Lorraine opened the door to the bathroom at the same time. They stopped for a moment, their eyes met. This was the feeling that James was looking for, the same connection he thought he would never find. Neither of them mentioned anything; both walked into their rooms without saying a word to each other, but words were unnecessary, their eyes did all the talking. James closed the door to his room the room had a cool temperature, James figured it was due to the wood floor. The floor creaked as he went to his closet, these cloths were not the usual cloths he wore but oddly enough he paid no mind to it.

He walked into the living room, there was Lorraine lying on the couch reading a book as she often did. James stopped at the foot of the stairs and peered out of the front door, which was wide open. The sky was plainly seen as cloudy, with the clouds acting as a filter for the light. It was his perfect day, the breeze still blowing, as the grass swayed back and forth in it. James continued to stare out the door at foot of the stairs; he couldn’t believe its beauty. It was a vision of solemn splendor, a vision he hoped he would never forget even in his old age, a vision that on his deathbed he would see it, and everything to him would be fine. James thought to himself, this must be the work of God. Lorraine closed her book and stood next to James.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Lorraine said.

“It is,” James said, in almost a whisper, still in astonishment “Where else would you find this?” Lorraine looked up at James in a look of confusion, as though he were crazy.

“Where else is there?”

James paused for a second, the comment seemed absurd, but somehow, it seemed right. Where else was there? He could not think of anywhere else but this place, it was as though there was only here, there was no nations, no world, just this place. This concept vexed him; after lunch he went outside. He walked through the grass to the edge of the forest. The closer he got to the forest he had a feeling that he should not be here, that he should go back to the house. The feeling was too strong; he could not do it. He went back to the house and sat in his rocking chair on the porch staring at the tree line until dinner was prepared. This was the only house in the middle of a grass clearing completely enclosed in by thick forest. This was his perfect world and he knew it.

At dinner he and Lorraine continued to talk. For hours they spoke of all things, things only they could speak of, things that to them were heavenly. He leered into her eyes as did she locked in connection that no other could give to either of them.

“Well, It’s getting’ late, we should go to bed.” Lorraine said wearily. James slowly nodded his head in agreement.

“Yeah, yeah you’re right, probably should.” James said. He didn’t want to sleep, he wanted to stay here and talk forever.
Lorraine and James walked up the stairs together. James stood in front of her, both of them locked in a gaze. Their breath synchronized, as one person, one soul. He slowly leaned in, their lips met. This was a kiss like no other; their feelings finally open without words. James felt his breath leave his lungs; his legs began to tremble. His body felt drained and filled with nothing but excitement and euphoria, the night could not be compared to any other. They pulled away and continued to gaze into each other’s eyes. Then he remembered, he remembered the fight they had it came back to him, but it was as though he never forgot it, and in the moment he whispered:

“I’m sorry, I love you.”

I love you too,” she said jovial. But in a hint of confusion she said “but what are you sorry about?” He stopped and hesitated; he found it odd that she did not know what he was speaking of.

“Nothing, nothing.”

“Goodnight.” Lorraine said.

When James got into his room he fell onto his bed in a blissful feeling. His spirit was high but his body weak from the power of the kiss. He fell asleep, and in his dream he could hear a voice, it was Lorraine. He could hear her crying, but he didn’t understand. The crying continued; there was no image, just the sound of crying. James searched all around the darkness hoping to find her and console her but there was nothing. The crying eased for only a moment, when she spoke.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to push you away; and now I may never see you again, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she continued to repeat her sorrow. James called out to her but she couldn’t hear him “You weren’t supposed to get hit by a car,” she almost felt that she should be mad at him “you jerk; you weren’t supposed to get hurt, before I told you.”

The voice stopped, he woke up. He had no idea what time it was, there were no clocks, but he knew it was early; Lorraine was not up yet. Still thinking of his dream he ran down the steps of the house and out the unlocked door. He quickly made way to the edge of the forest. James hesitated for a second, he tried to look inside the forest but he could see nothing. He forced his way into the thick forest. It was hard to move, but he kept going, he stopped, and there in his sight, light, he figured there was another place there wasn’t just this house in a grass clearing. When he made it to the edge, his expectations had failed, he had reached the other side, but the other side was the backside of the house, in the middle of the grass clearing, there was nowhere else, just this house, and this house he could not escape.

James walked into the house; Lorraine was still asleep. He stormed up the stairs and into the library, he began pulling out books and opening them. Each book he pulled, one of his favorites, but each one blank; every page blank. One after another, he pulled them out and thoroughly inspected them. The thumping of the books woke Lorraine; she came into the library with a jovial look on her face, which soon turned to confusion.

“Why are all these books, all over the floor?”

“Why is every page, of every book blank?” James said in a firm tone.

“What do you mean?”

“There are no words, just pages…” He grabbed one of the books from the floor and opened it “Look, nothing’, just pages.”

“So?”

“What do you mean ‘so’, there’s nothing.”

“At least we have us.”

“Are you even real?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lorraine said. James grabbed her arm and rushed her down the stairs through the front, out into the clearing.

“Look at the sky, it’s the same day, everyday, and that forest, it leads back here, there’s nowhere and no one else, anywhere;” James said in a frantic state “Where am I?” right then his memory came back to him. Everything was clear “This isn’t real; you’re not real, am I dead?”

James eyes began to swell with tears, at this Lorraine was speechless, no words she could think of, nothing. James knew she was speechless, because he had nothing to say she was in his head. He looked down, and a tear fell to the ground. The grass smeared like paint from the tear. James quickly looked up and Lorraine was gone. Everything began to drip like paint. A feeling of desperation fell upon him. What could he do, it was gone, it was a dream, but he realized maybe he would rather not have the fantasy; maybe he would rather die than live in a fake world.

He walked into the house, he knew that Lorraine was gone; she no longer existed in his mind. The walls of the house dripped, as well like paint, this was his painting. He looked at the hallway with a face of disappointment, but oddly there were not two rooms or bathrooms. There was only one bedroom and one bathroom. He walked into the bedroom and lay on the bed. He gazed at the walls as they dripped. He sighed and laid his head back, all that he had was gone, even the dream, his perfect world. His perfect sky had fallen, and all there was left was a hole in his heart. He mindlessly stared at the dripping wall, as he thought of her, Lorraine, wondering if he would ever see her again; her smile rang in his mind. The tears were too much to hold back they fell down the sides of his face. He knew he didn’t belong in this place; he was a stranger in his perfect world.
James got out of the bed and walked out of the room, past the fallen books, past the dripping furniture and out onto the porch where the only thing that did not drip like paint was his rocking chair. He sat down and peered out into his once perfect domain. James sat for what was for him hours, overtime he realized he was dieing, and there was nothing he could do. Finally everything washed away, the paint, the rocking chair, the porch, the house, the dream, and his life. There was nothing but an endless void of darkness; but through this darkness he could hear the voices, voices of his family and a doctor.

“We’ve given him and anti-biotic to fight the infection, but he’s slipping away. We’ve done all we can.” Much crying followed.

James thought if only they knew he was listening. The thoughts of everything rushed his mind, Lorraine, his mother, his sister, his father, everything. He could feel his breath leave him, this time he was suffocating, he couldn’t breath, and with what breath he could spare he uttered out with a powerful voice:

“I love you.”

And in this cry his eyes opened, he woke up, and as fast as he uttered those words he gasped for air. He looked out at everyone; their faces were streaked with shock. This was a miracle. Without words he looked over at Lorraine, they looked at each other, and there were no need for words. James realized his life was nothing without her, without everyone, everything he cherished. He thought maybe he was never supposed to have his perfect world, maybe he did not need the breeze that swayed the grass, or the beautiful home, or the gloomy sky, and maybe he did not need anything that was perfect. He thought maybe, just maybe this loneliness was brought by his need for love, his need for the perfect love, in a world where nothing is perfect, nothing is certain, a world where men create their problems and die the next day only to die knowing they had wasted their life on a foolish fight, for what, for the power that would someday destroy you; no, James needed not these things, not perfection, but what soothed his heart. He never figured he would find such thoughts and realizations in a dreamer’s eye.


Fin

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