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Monday, February 27, 2012

Hey! You! Get Out of My Way! Part 9 Back in Albany New York


Jonathan addressed me like a wife that was being left for the evening. “Well, what am I supposed to do tonight while you’re gone?” he asks me. “Listen to your records I guess” I answer sweeping by him and into the bedroom. “I won’t be gone that long.”

Jonathan followed. “Can I come?” he asked his voice taking on a high squeaky pitch as he narrows his eyes. To me he looks like a ferret.

“Jonathan, how can I take you when I just met these people?”  “How do you know that you will like them?” Jonathan teeters on his feet as his brain lurches back into gear. “Please?” he says bugging out his eyes. “I’m sorry I can’t,” I say grabbing my keys and heading down the front stairs. What I hear next is a fully fledged temper tantrum being thrown. “Can’t stop,” I think pulling the door closed.

As I hit the sidewalk I turn back to look at the house. Jonathan is standing in the window watching me walk up the block. All we need is a crash of lightning to make this scene even better. “God Damn, he can get so creepy sometimes,” I speak this out loud. An old lady with a wind chime collection watches me as I pass her house.

The directions that Myla has given me take me down New Scotland road and into a development that suddenly looks like I am in suburbia. So many houses have no porch lights on but I can see many families sitting around in their houses. They are being reflected by the light of the TV.  It strikes me every now and then that I will never have that again. In some respects I welcome this. Living at home was no picnic.

I find the house that is supposed to be Myla’s. I walk around the side of the house. It is completely dark. Somewhere in the back of the house I can see that lights are on and that someone is home. I now can make out a low glow from one of the basement windows as I get closer. Getting down on my hands and knees I press my face to the window.

I can see a group of people lying all around the room. The music coming out is of course supplied by Janis Joplin. This is the right place. I push the window open and swing my legs through. I start to lower myself into Myla’s room.

Suddenly a window opens above me. “Who the fuck is out there?” a voice screams. “I have a shotgun and I will blow your fucking head off.” This makes me crawl quicker through the window. Hands grab my legs and guide them to a place to stand.

“Hey Man,” Myla says as I turn around “You made it!” I am standing on her dresser and I get a bird’s eye view of the room.  “Jesus, someone opened the window upstairs and screamed that she had a gun.” I tell Myla as I climb off her dresser. “Man, that’s just Bernice my Mother, don’t pay any attention, she’s fucking crazy.” 

As I climb off the dresser the smell of weed hits me full in the face.

to be continued..........

Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writing "A Day in the Life". It can not be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.

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