Chapter five: Alan Rick, the super prick

“I want you to hear the quiet,” a man’s gentle voice whispered in my ear. “Breathe in the quiet,” he said whispering closer. This was beginning to violate my personal space.  My eyes fluttered in an urge to open up. “Keep your eyes closed.” The voice warned. A moment passed and the voice asked, “Feel the energy.” I checked my thought process. Nope, nothing going on.

“Can you-” he paused dramatically. “Feel it?”

“Uh,” I said trying to say something elegant. Maybe this wouldn’t feel so disingenuous if there weren’t a bunch of videographers and photographers surrounding me with their unusually quiet set of reporters.

“Focus,” he whispered. “Focus on the energy flowing through you.”

“Uh…” this was getting annoying but I promised I’d try anything. Why did I have to do it while being interviewed? Fuck.

“Call on the great spirit,” he paused once again. “Invoke it.” They shipped him in from Sedona, Arizona. Alan Rick sported dread locks with his personally created ‘spirit’ beads that helped him ‘channel.’ He also, for some reason I couldn’t quite understand, always wore blue Hawaiian shirts despite living in the desert.

He volunteered as the first of many, many so called experts. Each time I would get paid and the station would take care of all expenses. I regret every second of this. “Invoke it.” He said stronger. His breath stank of rank weed and mouth wash. Call it women’s intuition but something tells me the reporters will not be adding that little fact in.

“Like, verbally.”

“Uh,” I said. “I-“

“Feeling it. I know. It’s intense.”

“Well-” I started.

“Call it-” He said louder.

“I-” I’m not feeling anything.

“Call the great dolphin spirit!”

“N-” does this guy ever let anyone get a word in edgewise.

“Great dolphin! Come forth! Call it now while the energy is with us!” He shouted.

“You’re right!” I gasped. “I’m calling it!”

“Call it!” He screamed. My eyes popped open watching Alan arch his back and yell at the sky. I’ve had enough.

“Bullshit! I call forth the spirit of bullshit.” He stopped startled. “This is bullshit.” His jaw dropped and he stared at me. “I’m done. We’ve been doing this for over two hours and I don’t remember anything.”

“You just haven’t invoked the spirit. ” He said with accusing eyes.

“The great dolphin?”

“It is the wisest of all spirits.” He claimed passionately.

“We’re in the middle of the forest miles away from the ocean. How do dolphins fit in here?!”

“The spirit fits in everywhere!” He yelled pointing at me.

“Oh, it fits somewhere alright.” I yelled back at him pointing my finger. “Up your ass alongside your head.” He opened up his mouth to retort but it was my turn to cut him off.  “Is this what gets you off? Manipulating people that come to you for help? Fuck off, you Charlatan bastard.” I stormed off heading toward my car. Flashes and questions bombarded me. Little did I know this was the first of many, this circus was just starting.

I curled up tighter in bed. I should have told Brandon no and no way in hell. He had set everything but all I could think of was my face splattered across newspaper pages telling people to fuck off. This was not the way I wanted to start off my hang over.

Chapter four: Hung out or hung over

            I woke up the next morning with a headache from Hades and felt just as unsettled. Everything was black just the way I like it even though it is way past noon. Brandon filled the remains of the evening with the rest of his escapades. 

     

        The last person I ever knew that could out details pornography but in a strange way it was comforting.  Did asked about my almost soul mate, Joel once. I quickly dismissed his question by asking about size and more detail. Brandon knew well enough that this wasn’t the time to ask me about him.

I tried to allow my mind to wonder between pain and pornography which I didn’t think existed.  Focus, I needed to focus. There is a shadow game of thoughts playing in my nightmares but one thing lingered, it wasn’t a red ball but there was a man. One who left no smell or figure? He had no identifying traits aside from a shadow.  I prayed in my heart that this would be but a small spot of weirdness out of an entire shit pile of weird.

            Maybe things were better than a red ball but at least the red didn’t talk back. It was one thing to have a good feeling; it was another to have that feeling talk back. I tightened my sheet around me still feeling sick with fever. I thought about calling the shrink but nothing sounded good about being back on another “better medication” that just might work. That sentence killed me. I felt like I was the blind leading the blind.

            I felt like it was some sort of brain pregnancy or menopause. Hot flashes, cold flashes,  excessive eating, lack of appetite, the wretched pooping of the pants, dizzy spells and a lingering senses of the combined just so someone can say, “I did it! I cured her!”

But there was no cure or explanation for what happened.  Those tiny little labels kept whatever was left of my life in check. I wish I never came back. I wanted to blink out of existence because this seems to be similar to where ever I was before.

            My thoughts lingered reluctantly back to Joel. He was an old friend from college of who my heart strings still belonged. But yet he was the most neglectful, hurtful and heart breaking person I shall ever come to know. He taught me the flavor of pain and humility when all I wanted was a hug.

When I first came out of the woods a small circle was there and Joel was among them. He, Brandon and my sister were the only ones who stuck with me. One thing led to another and two years later I had come to the realization that I was no more than squishy fuck rag for a man I held in such high regard.

            There are few people that someone considers changing their entire life for and he was going to be mine. I admired him with angelic glow but no pedestal. I thought he told me the truth and his words to me became worth more than gold but after our last meeting on a cold December night he barely spoke to me at all.

A few words here and there; it would seem that the man I loved turned to dust and ash leaving behind only a man who wanted naked pictures of me. At first it was fun until it became the only way to receive his attention or affection. What was that worth? An emogi? A graphic? No, I was nothing to him and it had been a slow, horribly real.

            I think in some sense I deserved this. It was my penitence for whatever happened in the woods. Even though I can’t remember, maybe I deserved this.

             How could I be so stupid? I cried in my heart. I’d been crying every second I was alone nursing my broken heart. Pleading for someone to rip it out, I decided instead to hole myself up in my apartment. I only went outside when I absolutely had to. He said at one point I needed to learn humility despite the fact I felt humiliated every day I was alive.

 My mother taught me a good poker face, “You may break on the inside but you never ever taint the Rose with emotion.” That much was true. I could be on fire with chunks of flesh falling from my bones but I still had to pretend that everything was ok and my life was perfect.

            It has always been far from perfect. I cried over him and blocked him from my heart. I’ve been convincing myself for the last few weeks that I mean nothing to him but I still hoped that he would say something or do some to prove my heart ache was not in vain. But it was, wasn’t it? I texted him every night a kiss or a hug or a picture just to let him know he was loved. It remained unanswered though checked (thank you Apple product for feeding my paranoia).

 No reciprocation and the second I was ready to give him the good old boot out of my life he’d contact me again and I would be helpless. I would let him back in knowing he wouldn’t love me. No romance, no love, just fucking for his growing pleasure and my emptiness.  I guess this is how Anna Steele felt when Christian Grey came into her life. I needed a companion, a lover and maybe even a soul mate. But if this was love, why need it to begin with?

            I pulled the sheet back to let myself breathe. Maybe that’s what those nightmares were about.  Maybe it was stress over Joel, my life and in between life. It didn’t have to be like this. I can change it starting with Joel. I was done with him. I reached over and sent him a text message asking him typical stuff, “Do you love me?” and “Do you miss me?” with the same answers I got whenever he got into bed with a different woman or was interested in. Which translated to me as: “I’ll fuck you later but not now I’m busy.”

            My last answer to him was “Never mind, I already know.” It was time for me to stop fucking around and do what I wanted to do by my own rules and by myself. I needed no one else but myself. I didn’t want to long for him anymore, I wanted the rejection to scab over and heal up. The cell phone rang and I grunted over to pick it up, it was Brandon.

“Hey,” I said groggily.

“Don’t be mad,” he began.

“You know, this is the part when I actually start to get mad-”

“Shut up. I have a deal for you.”

“’Kay.”

“You know how you said let’s get serious about getting rich while we’re still young and beautiful?”  This is the time where I officially regret the vodka. I let out a long ended sigh. “I may have to answer for you.”