Road Work

After experiencing horrible things, a person can sometimes get a feeling of being strangely removed from their body, like as if they’re watching a movie of themself. Someone could be simply standing anywhere at anytime, just doing what they normally do. Then suddenly there’s this feeling of rising above themself, outside themself, like a dream. It is a form of disassociation usually brought on as a response to tremendous shock and trauma. The brain is attempting to protect from overwhelming psychological damage.

Like so many times before, Harry ran on the outer forest path toward the ocean as warm midday sunlight began to give way to a gentle rain shower. No problem. If anything it would serve to cool rather than annoy. A good run was always a time to do some thinking. You could work things out in your body and mind at the same time. Adjust yourself slightly left and allow the path to rise on the right underneath your feet. In a short time, it levels out again and you straighten as your steady pace keeps time with your breath. “The heartbeat of the world,” he thought, “is...connected. We are all one gigantic organism…” His thoughts came and went in a meditative way until he saw someone running opposite towards him on the path.

A girl. Reddish Brown hair. Running toward him. Suddenly the meditation has been disrupted and he notes the distraction. She’s beautiful. Not distracted like he is. Not until the seconds before they cross does he see her inner thoughts have become intruded upon as well by his presence. He observes that, whatever it is. The electricity generated between two people. The suspicion or maybe just simply fear that causes him to lose his train of thought. Other people are so often treacherous. They come with baggage, obviously or at least this was his observation. Perhaps it’s the same for her, for others too? "Maybe I’m just different somehow, to notice such things," he thought.

The path began to clear as he approached the edge of a low cliff that ran alongside the water. Alone again, now he could see the sky overcast. “Everything repeats. Over and over again everything repeats. Countries rise and wars are fought and we all eventually erode over time until it comes round again and again…” Harry thought about violence and about the futility of trying to stop it. “I died that day.”

Years ago he had fought in a treacherous war overseas. The fighting was brutal but not direct. Battle took place in ambush fashion rather than the head on clashing style of older days. Observing all this, He saw that losing our ability to stand our ground in truth and honor often mimicked our conversation styles, the way we evade hardship, and definitely in the way we fight.

“It isn’t right.”

The enemy left cleverly hidden explosive traps and let loose a barrage of fire shortly before disappearing again into some unseen cover. They knew the land.

In one particularly nasty surprise firefight, he and a friend called Carlos took cover behind a partially dilapidated brick wall. They took turns peaking around an exposed corner and popping off rounds. Then He began to lay a cover fire so that Carlos could come out and close in on the enemy. As soon as Carlos made round the corner he was hit and fell back, violently shaking on the ground. He pulled Carlos back by the flaps of his flak jacket and looked at him. He appeared to be having a seizure. He must be in shock, but there’s no wound. He must have been hit hard against his body somewhere on the bulletproof armor. Everything seemed to be happening too quickly to comprehend. He tried to calm him. “Don’t worry buddy. You’ll be alright. It’ll stop hurting in a second!” Then he saw it. In the lower, middle part of his neck, that small enclave where the neck ends and the collar begins, a hole in the suprasternal notch, and it was spurting blood. Harry’s heart was beating so very hard. Carlos kicked and thrashed for what seemed like only a few seconds and then just lay there in shock, slowly dying. The look on his face was pure fear and agony. There was no quiet grace or acceptance. He fought spasmodically until there was nothing left.

“The enemy.” Harry smiled sardonically as his feet pat down on the path. Now he was beginning to descend and reach the sand and the shore. “It’s so silly. The way we need an enemy, something or someone to fight against. It doesn’t even matter who. Anyone could be…”

The rain had stopped now. The salt air was nice. He was remembering. He remembered feeling disbelief as he looked down at Carlos’s body.

After the day that Carlos had died he began to feel like he was somehow existing outside his own body. It seemed to get worse. Leaving the battlefield. Boarding the plane. Coming home. He would stand outdoors and feel the fresh ocean air and float above himself watching it all go down. Watching life happen from a 3^rd person perspective. Carlos was long dead but a significant change had occurred in Harry. He had died too, or at least something inside of him had.

He was there now. On the shore. Hearing the tide breath in and out. He stopped running and just looked. It was darker now. The sky was grey clouds that looked like painted smoke designs as he caught his breath. “The ocean is beautiful…” he thought, “and deep and deadly.” He thought of all the pirates from hundreds of years ago that would go out on those waters intending fully to capture and rape, to enslave, to steal. He heard a nervous voice behind him.

“Excuse me.”

He turned. It was the girl he had passed earlier. She was breathing heavily. Her eyes were large with fear. She had turned around and caught up with him.

“Can you help me please?”

“What is it?”

“There’s a guy following me. I don’t know what the hell he wants but I’m scared!”

He looked back towards the trail opening by the forest. From the shore he could barely make out a shirtless man in bright yellow running shorts just coming down from the low cliff area. He was very tan and muscular. His shorts were so short you could almost see part of him trying to bounce out.

“Oh my God, here he comes!” Something didn’t seem right.

“Why didn’t you call for help?”

“I don’t run with my phone!”

“You don’t?” Unusual, he thought. Why didn’t she just scream for help?

She was trembling.

As the guy approached there was a definite sense of anger and aggression as he slowed to a trot, then a quick walk. He was large. Probably around 6’3” and 220 lbs.

“Look man, s-she doesn’t want to talk to you.” He felt like a useful idiot again.

“Elly, what the hell did you tell this guy?” asked the man.

“Leave me alone!” she screamed.

The big guy in the bright yellow shorts advanced toward the girl and Harry quickly stepped in between. Without a second of hesitation, he sucker punched Harry, hard, right behind his left ear and knocked him down. Then He got on top of him and began to tee off on his head.

“Shouldn’t uh done that!” said yellow shorts. Through the beating Harry could see his face smiling a wide, psychotic smile.

“My God,” thought Harry “what the hell am I doing here?”

He writhed and bucked his hips, doing anything he could to avoid the rain of punches coming down upon him. Harry was able to grab a tiny piece of driftwood and he quickly jammed it into the man’s left eye. He screamed. Harry was able to push him off and stand.

“You’re gonna die for that!”

He charged Harry again like a football lineman and just as he was about to jump and launch Harry deftly slipped right and landed a beautiful descending right hook to the man’s jaw, perfectly placed. By the time he hit the ground he was already unconscious.

He caught his breath for a few seconds and looked around for Elly. She was gone.

“I...am such a tool.” he panted.

Already it was happening again. Adrenaline was coursing through his bloodstream. He began to exist outside of his body and he could see himself down below. He was controlling a video game character—himself. It didn’t last long this time, a few seconds maybe. He returned to his body. His hands were shaking. He balled them into fists a couple of times and wiped the blood from under his eye. He sniffed and saw the shore would rise soon. He pulled the man by his arms slowly; he was incredibly heavy. Harry left him leaning against a low brick wall next to beach parking. He was coming to now.

“Youuuu moppah puuckerrrr...I’ll keyyouuu…”

Harry nervously walked off, making sure to look behind him every few steps before eventually beginning to run back home.

The next morning He waited to catch the bus to work. “What is that?” he wondered. Every time something scary happens I end up floating and losing my sense of reality. Some things you never believe can happen. You think: “These things only happen in the movies.” But they do happen. And they happen to everyday normal people just like you and me. The way the brain reacts and how you feel during and after can be like a totally different world. It’s surreal.

Pondering this, Harry boarded the bus and made his way to the Jewish delicatessen where he worked. After arriving, He put on his apron and began prepping various vegetables for the evening hours. He chopped mushrooms, carrots, onions, and cucumbers. The place smelled of hot vegetable oil and toasted rye bread. His boss, Elder Kernstein, approached.

“Now look. I want everything weighed to the correct portions, got it? I want every fucking thing weighed and neatly set aside or you weigh to order but no more waste, you got it? Dan and Jose have already pissed me off enough with this generous helping bullshit. We already give the customer half a goddamn pound of corned beef on a fucking reuben for fuck’s sake. Hey, you listening asshole?”

“Yes.”

“What the hell happened to your face?”

“A man hit me.”

“Well its about fucking time somebody did! Maybe it knocked some sense into you. And I don’t want anyone over salting the latkes!..”

He worked his shift mostly in silence. Harry was a quiet person for the most part anyway. He would humor almost anyone that wanted to speak to him. If, for instance, someone wanted to talk to him about their life, he would listen to them prattle on about things ultimately meaningless to him but he understood the great meaning that they held for the person speaking. He could feel that people needed to express their thoughts and work feelings out through conversation. It was a social need. Harry had, in other words, an empathic burden of sorts. He could feel all too well the pains and concerns of others around him and that is why it was so very important to get away from people on regular basis. He needed to recharge. He would listen and nod, speak words of acknowledgment and even ask questions to show interest in a story being told but he was for the most part a quiet person, satisfied to ponder existence in his own mind.

Customers came in high volume today. He noticed someone entering. She looked at him. He nodded and stepped around a cutting board to a sink and began to wash his hands. When he came out from around the counter Elly spoke first.

“Listen I came by because I wanted to thank you.”

“It’s alright.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t stick around but I was really freaked out, you know? I mean I was...really scared. I can’t believe you hit him like that!”

“You saw that?”

“Yeah! I mean I was already pretty far away but I turned around just in time to see that! It was awesome.”

Harry felt proud, then slightly ashamed.

“It was a very...very lucky shot.”

He looked down and thought for a few seconds. Elly watched him.

“I don’t like that. I mean I don’t like this thing that we’re doing.”

Elly’s mouth began to grin while her eyes remained focused on him. Then she stopped grinning and her entire face became serious.

“Would you please help me with something?”

She stood there in a dark blue sun dress dotted with white circles, highly unusual fashion for the area as opposed to the usual leggings, shorts, jeans or pants suits that women normally wore. She had a beautiful body; the shape of her was clearly accentuated by the dress being draped in warm afternoon sunlight.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Well, would you mind if I just walked with you after work? Where do you live?”

“I’m going to the gym after this,” Harry said, “On Polk.”

“The boxing gym? That makes a lot of sense!”

“Listen Elly,” Harry wanted to cut it off at the root. “What happened yesterday was like a once in a lifetime thing. I’ve never hit anyone like that outside of a ring and like I said it was super lucky.” He thought for a second about saying no more, about maybe just saying goodbye to her. “Look I don’t want anymore trouble and I’m fairly certain that guy, whoever he is…”

“He’s my ex-boyfriend.”

“Yeah, well, I’m fairly sure he’s gonna be looking for me and so now I’ve got a problem that I never wanted and to be honest I’m pretty nervous about it. And you acted like you didn’t know who he even was!”

"I know."

She waited for him. They walked down Polk street together. She told him her story. She was a young student and the guy's name was Jenkins. He had been her boyfriend and then her pimp. Startled by her candid honesty (and her beauty), Harry agreed to see her again in a couple of days. He watched her walked away uphill at the corner of Polk and Pine as the evening glare surrounded her. "Insane," he thought. "Everyone is in pain somehow and trying so hard to run away from it all. This is life."

At the gym, Harry jumped rope and shadow boxed a couple of rounds before putting on a new set of 16 oz. sparring gloves. He had a good sweat going. The front door made a high, metallic creaking sound as Jenkins came in. Harry nodded at him. It looked like it was going to be a difficult night.