Blog #4 - A Soulful Christmas

I couldn't shake what happened last night. The stress had been building for days and maybe it just pushed me over the edge. Nonetheless, It's weird. I had never had any problems with fainting. It had to be a coincidence, but still makes you think. I was off kilter and needed to get back in my groove.

What better to get your groove on than the legend himself, James Brown. I like to pride myself on an extensive Brown collection: "I Got A Feelin'," "I Got You," the list goes on. I know my stuff. What I don't have, however, is "A Soulful Christmas." I know, I know, not the best holiday album, but it's almost Christmas, and I could use some spirit.

It was too cold to walk, of course December should be, but this was different. I made my way to the garage on 3W, rounded the corner and there she was. I hadn't been in my car in ages now that Colombia was on winter break, let alone driven in the snow. I turned on what James Brown I did have and floored it. My heart was pumping, I felt alive for the first time in days.

I was in control of my life. I loved it. That control, however, quickly slipped from my fingers as I swung onto Magnolia, hit ice and slid onto the sidewalk. "Dammit!" I couldn't help but yell, everything had been going so well, I forgot the stupid chains.

I slammed the door behind me as I got out to check out the damage. It was fine, but there was still a small dent in the bumper and the entire side was scratched. "You dodged a bullet, I've seen some nasty injuries around here," came a voice from behind me, "Chains?" I spun around to face Frederick Hanky, an old classmate. He had pulled beside me in his truck. "Yeah, I got lucky," I sighed.

"It'll need to go into the shop, but still... Hey, Marshal, didn't you have a weird blackout yesterday?" 

"Yeah, and heard something weird." 

"I read the story... me too." 

"Really?" 

"Yeah," he hesitated, "Don't you think its weird? On the same day." 

I had thought the same thing, "With all that's been happening? It doesn't feel right." 

"It doesn't feel natural. It wasn't a coincidence," he whispered shakily. 

“Maybe.” I stared past him. I got back into the garage, but there was a man in my way. I recognized him, he looked pale, and he was bleeding…

Mr. Evans.

Blog #3 - U Can't Touch This

A cold trill crept up my spine as I slowly turned towards the disembodied voice. My hands trembling as they rose to my head. The world slowed as I gathered the strength to stop the shaking just long enough to whimper, "I don't want any trouble." I raised my face to confront my attacker, near petrified in my skin; there was nothing there. I could've sworn there was something behind me. My heart pounded.

Utter darkness.
Silence.
Complete absence of light, sound, and joy.
I wasn't afraid. I wasn't happy. I was just alive, but at the same time, I wasn't.
It was awful.

I woke up enveloped by a crowd of people surrounding me. I was still petrified, the sea of concerned faces. A single silhouette emerged from the crowd. There was a warmth to the man, he hushed the murmurs and barked at the gawkers, "Give the kid some space!" He helped me over to a bench where I could finally see his face, Lamar.

He sat me down and berated me with questions. "What happened? Are you hurt? Why were you alone so late?"
"I'm fine," I assured him, "I just blacked out." His concern was comforting. Lamar answered the call the night my mother died. A heart attack, in her sleep. Lamar had sat there with me, in complete silence, for hours. From that day on, he had always checked in on me. If there was anyone I'd want to pester me like that, it'd be him. "I um... uh.. I don't know what happened. I was walking home and I heard something behind me. Somebody, some thing told me to freeze. I turned around and there was nothing there. I was scared. I am scared."
"I'll drive you home. You should get some rest." We go into Lamar's coup, he paused and with the most sincere look in his eyes, "I've got your back kid."  He cranked up his stereo. MC Hammer, "U Can't Touch This." For a moment, it felt like nobody could.

Blog #2 - Bicycle Race

It was a ghost town around here recently. People haven't been leaving their houses, haven't been talking, just acting weird. There was something in the air. I don't know, but it almost feels as though we're all being watched.

I had to keep moving.

I marched through the apartment, tripping on the old telepphone chord strewn across the floor. I should remember to unplug the damn thing. But late, no time now. I strutted down to the garage, but when I got to the 3rd floor, a cold breeze when I walked into the doorway threw me off. So I went on a walk, it was Saturday and I didn't have anything better to do so why not.

Soundtrack: "Bicycle Race" - Queen

Conrad's in town! I had seen the fliers and wanted to find some of his CD's. Never listened to him much, but I'm always down for something new. I had to make sure I knew all of his songs before the show, I mean it was my first concert! Maybe Dad will take me to one of his someday. If I find him.

Walking down Magnolia I felt a few raindrops and bolted towards the Learning Worm. They have a pretty extensive Record and CD collection on the 3rd floor. After scavenging the bin for a few minutes I found a single, lone CD. $2.50! Sweet! I paid and slipped outside. It was pouring now, but whatever, rain never hurt anybody.

I slid in that first disc and it didn't take me to a new world. All my life music was an escape for me. It got me through my Dad never being home and my high school girlfriend leaving me for my best friend... But that's neither here nor there. Conrad's album didn't take me away, no, it brought me closer. One of the first lines I heard was "Something has been happening as of late," and after that everything seemed to be written about the Maitland. It was... odd. The songs were written 50 years ago, but they applied so much to what I had been feeling.

The concert was not what I had hoped. I wanted to be whisked away to another world, but everywhere around me in the lawn, I saw my neighbors. And they were just as detached as they had been. He played an encore and we all started walking back to the apartment. 

I walked faster and faster until I was full sprint. Someone, something was following me. Breathing down my neck. Then, a click. "Don't move!"

Blog #1 - Lovely Day

The day started with Bill Withers' as I jumped into what I hoped would be my own Lovely Day. Sadly, my upbeat morning routine came to an end with the crack of lightning. Immediately, I leapt out of the shower and the shampoo in my eyes instantly ruined the fun. Growing up, Mama always told me not to shower in a thunderstorm. 

I checked the clock; 6 minutes late, not too bad. I bolted down the stairs, past the leaky ceiling tile on 3W, dipped through the caution tape in the parking deck and started up Betsy, my trusty '98 Toyota Camry. I flew down Maine St. towards Colombia High, fueled by "Barracuda" and made it with thirty five seconds to spare. An hour of early morning rounds  later, the bell rang signaling the start of first period. I took my chance and dashed to the janitors closet, the one next to the boys bathroom in the freshman wing.

I fished around in the cabinet I had cleverly labeled "Marshal's Cleaning Stuff" and unearthed the old "Let's Get it On" CD. Call me old fashioned for using a discman, but it was a memento from Dad. Not like he was there for me, always on tour, but without him I never would've known the power of song.

When that magic disc spun I was taken to a place like no other, Senior Prom back when I attended Colombia High. I grabbed the hand of the nearest lady, which happened to be the still damp mop leaning against the shelve. I cranked up the volume and the music took control. 

When we dipped, we dipped. When we swooped oh did we swoop, and I was about to seal the night with a kiss, when I was rudely interrupted.  In my unabashed sweeper passion, I failed to notice the smitten student who had opened the door. The boy had come to tell me a kid had caught the flu next door and his breakfast had come out to play. 

At the end of the day I got called to the Vice Principal's office. Apparently, a grown man slow dancing with a mop, is considered "inappropriate" on school grounds. I'm sure if they knew what I was listening to, they'd understand. But anyways, they said if there's another incident, I'll "never be seen again." Ok, maybe they didn't say exactly that, but it was close.