Are You No More

Are you no more.

There was a cool and gentle breeze in the air, rustling the leaves on the trees and causing the tall, agrestal grass to tremble and shiver under its touch.  The clouds had hidden the sun for just short of a week, instead bringing in rolling thunder and crackling lightning and winds that left people cowering in their homes with their tails between their legs like timid dogs.  Now though, on this particularly quiet night, the heavy grey clouds peeled back to reveal a dark moonless sky adorned with thousands of flickering stars.  At first glance, the stars appear to be all the same.  Small white spots that shined, juxtaposed on the dark purple blue sky, but when one changed their perspective, when one looked at them all individually, they could see the vast differences in them.  They were all so idiosyncratic.  All so unique.  The undertones of color they all possessed!  Pinks, greens, yellows, and blues!  

What an incredible night is all that goes through Arlo Moore’s mind as he moves silently past the tall dancing grass and into the quiet train yard.  His boots’ soft crunch on the slick gravel, still wet from the earlier rain, the only testimony to his presence.  

The train yard is as quiet as a ghost town, save for the distant thrumming of the suburbs not too far off from here.  The individual cars are all lined up side by side, row after row of cold steel alloy.  A far off street light flickers surreptitiously, the pale orange glow nothing compared to nature’s light show in the sky up above.  Nothing created by the hands of humankind could ever compare to the wonders of the natural world.

After he adjusts his backpack to be certain it’s secure, Arlo grabs hold of the cold metal rungs of the ladder on his selected covered hopper and gracefully climbs to the roof of the train car and out of sight of prying eyes, despite knowing full well he is completely and entirely alone.  Lying flat on his back with his bag serving as a makeshift pillow, Arlo takes a breath and allows himself to finally calm.  Should anyone pass by his current train car they would be unable to see the young man from the yard below.

Arlo doesn’t trust himself to be alone with his thoughts though and it’s only a short matter of time before he removes his phone from his pocket and turns it on, seeking an escape from his haphazard mind.

Time seems to escape Arlo as he scrolls through his phone, glancing with complete uncertainty at unread and unopened text messages from his concerned family in a rather sacred manner, but not daring to respond to a single one.  His attention then turns to the upper right hand corner of his screen and, upon seeing that his battery is low, he turns the phone off, the now sleek black screen reflecting a look of pain right back at him.  For a moment Arlo just stares back at the object with scrutiny, his eyebrows knitted together.  His once handsome face is almost unrecognizable with his shoulder length greasy auburn hair pulled back in a small tangled ponytail, his complexion now sickly pale, and his dark brown eyes sunken into his skull.  He is no longer the same timid boy he once was and there is no doubt about it.  Who he is now though Arlo can not say.  A part of him, the masochist inside of him he supposes, wishes he had a reason for the way he looked.  For the way he felt.  For the way he acted.  For how he treated those that love him, or, rather those that used to love him.  He then wishes, knowing it is entirely wrong to do so, for something terrible to happen to himself or a loved one for then he would be able to point to that moment in time and say: “This.  This is why I am the way I am.  This is why I am so broken inside.”  Arlo is aware of his situation.  That he needs sympathy from others as god knows he won’t receive any sympathy from himself.  He lacks hubris, or any pride for that matter.

Instead, there is no reason for him to be how he is.  No reason for him to be where he is.  No reason for him to have been so self-destructive and so selfish.  No reason for him to have packed up his things and left behind only a small card that read “I’m sorry” to serve as an explanation for his sudden disappearance.  

Or maybe there was a reason and he just couldn’t see it.  Not yet, at least.  Perhaps all he needed was a shift in perspective.  

Sliding his phone into the front pocket of his pants he lets out a discontent sigh and turns his dark and weary gaze back to the sky above.  There is no going back for him.  There is no forgiveness waiting for him back home.  In fact, there is no home waiting for him either.  Not anymore.  

Once more he turns his head, this time to face his right side.  As he does so he catches a glimpse of chunky letters written in faded black sharpie on the roof of the train car just beside where he lays.  The words are almost invisible under the dark blanket of night.  The words, of which there are a total of four, read “Are you no more”.  No punctuation.  No question mark.  Just four bold words, faded and invisible to the vast and incomprehensible world they pass by day in and day out on the roof of a forgotten train car.  Arlo sets his jaw and narrows his darkened eyes, staring at the letters for a moment in deep contemplation before looking back up at the dazzling night sky, closing his eyes as he searches for his answer to those four words.  Are you no more.