Thursday, August 6, 2009

Magic in New York and Baltimore

"Why am I focusing on this?" the frustrated middleaged matron thought to herself. "I have no idea...'. It has made my every waking thought, my every sleeping moment a living nightmare., why do I have these horrbile nightmares? What's with these recurrent dreams, always the same, always involving people from my past?" Shiela tried to comfort herself as best she could, however her change of life being a catalyst and a direct push from the universe telling her she must take immediate action. The dreams turned to nightmares, the drama had upped the ante, and Sheila wanted to end the constant knock on the door of her subconsious. Sheila had been hiding for so long, without realizing it, horrible emotional pain. This artibrary vector was persistent. The uprooting of much emotional turmoil had been purposefully and directly propelling her to confront her past and any demons living there. Shiela knew she had to dispense with these self-loathing dreams, before she could live again. She had to go through to the otherside and find the thing that was bothering her subconscious for so long.

Sheila knew that it was not her alone which caused her heart to flutter, and her dreams and attention turn to her past unrequitted love. "This love will quit torturing my mind or I will have to do something. I cannot love a person this much, it is something else going on. My mind is playing tricks on me because my heart was played with in the past. I tried to ignore it, but now, after pushing down the pain and the awareness of that pain, I am confronted by some middle aged yoda in the centre of my brain saying "make life fair" and "don't let someone take advantage of your good heart and humanity" and "don't tread on me". Certainly Sheila was walked on in the past, actually rolled over by years of psychologically abusive relationships. Relationship that were concerned with power than the person behind that power.

Sheila emphatically added "I dont deserve to treat myself this way, I won't! I am stronger than anything that has been or will be thrown my way, I am much bigger than this, then these old emotions that are trying but yet again to drown me in a sea of troubles, old emotional trouble!" Shiela recited MacBeth "Boil, boil toil and trouble" If I am made into a witch, a witch I will be!" Sheila began to grow stronger as she looked upon the broom sitting on the floor by the counter. "What magic powers has been provided to creep back into my life when I least expected it, when I was least ready for it. This caged bottle of doubt will be broken and cast to the wind and who is next to feel the wrath of Sheila?" Sheila started laughing or, rather, began cackling. "Hey, hey my pretties, watch out for witch Sheila, the gray malkins mistress!

Sheila's strong Celtic roots could not keep her rooted to her staid position. Sheila knew she had to make changes in her life, she did not want to admit it to herself. Her dreams and nightmares had become her wakeup call. Sheila was becoming aware of her odd state of mind lately. "I cannot possibly continue living like this, with these crying spells, these regrets from what? Thirty friggin' years ago?" What is wrong with me? Am I going nuts? These annoying flashback distractions! I haven't got time to wallow in my middle age misery; I have too much work to do, people depend on me! Sheila thought about him, and became sad again.

Suddenly a knock on the bathroom door. Are you finished in their yet? I'm hungry! Sheila's teenage son had been calling Sheila for his supper. Sheila had totally forgotten about this. "Mom, come on, I'm late for rugby practise! Didn't you hear me calling?" "No, I didn't, sorry, dear. I was busy thinking in the shower." Mark had been worrying about his mom lately, she didnt seem as "with it". Mark wanted Sheila to call her doctor; "Mom, why don't you get a doctor's appointment?" Sheila angrily said "What for, do you think there is something wrong with me too? Oh, you're all nuts! Daddy said the same thing last week. I'm just sorting through some "unfinished business" it wont take long, just collecting the missing pieces and loose threads of my life. I am just coming to terms with becoming older. I will get use to it or die trying, I guess! Mark replied "hey Mom, we just love you, that's why we are concerned. We're just hoping to get our old mom back!".

Sheila looked in the mirror as best she could, clearing a fog-free patch with her robe. As she looked at her image, a soft foggy tear ran down her cheek and into the sink. "Nothing should be making me sad, I have a good life, a great husband, wonderful children" Shiela patted herself dry from the early morning shower. She could not put a finger on her unusal thought patterns of late. Her mind kept drifting to another time and place when life was less complex, simpler.

Her midlife fiftieth birthday last year had changed her dramatically. Now she realized the word "change" had significant physical and psychological meaning. Her life had been good, everything was fine. Of course there was that nagging doubt that she could never please her parents. None of the boyfriends never had the stamp of approval drummed up a lot of self-examination and doubt. Shiela was being confronted her demons, real and imagined, she did not differientiate between the two. For all intents and purposes Sheila was caught between two worlds,and a rock and a hard place. She is living in her world, what did the past what to do with her? Why the emotions now, thirty years after her lost love left her emotionally vacant and headed to the big city to find fame and fortune and a richer and much younger and prettier wife. Shiela had long ago, or so she thought, dealt with and dispensed her long lost love. It just would not work out, it wasnt to be, they both were not made for each other, the fit did not fit. Or so she thought. Her focus had become an obsession. The world she knows each day as having a certain continuation of reality and the world which offered to her a glimpse of the Sheila she left behind in Baltimore.

The hurried rush of midday Manhattan had caught Nathan Stephens off-guard. The midtown office crowds had rushed by Nathan to be the first at their favourite lunchtime deliccatesen. Around forty-second street Nathan looked to grab a hotdog and an overly large pretzel. It only cost $3 dollars, money being tight. Nathan got the vendor to wrap it in waxed paper. The vendor gave Nathan a disgruntled smirk and slowly completed the task. After quickly throwing the change on the vendor's counter, Nathan couldn't wait to eat. Quickly grabbing the hot food and stuffing it into his briefcase, Nathan ran purposefully through the streets to upper Manhattan, passing the suited throngs to T.G.I.F.'s restaurant to have a huge gulp of his favorite draft beer. Nathan could taste it now.

Arriving at the restaurant, Nathan swivelled on his favourite barstool, he looked at his watch, he had fifteen minutes to eat and get back to the office. A regular at the bar Nathan waved to his bestfriend, the bartender. Gus Smith had known Nathan since highschool both were attending The Actor's Studio in the fall. Nathan gave Guy the sign-language code; a Laurel and Hardy hair and face scrunch. Guy new to bring his favourite Guiness draft. Since both Nathan and Guy were attending The Actor's Studio both having acted in theatre arts plays in Brooklyn. As physically different as Laurel and Hardy, Nathan being the former skinny clown type man-boy. Guy as Hardy could certainly play his part, ever the serious second banana, he could charm the ladies with his physical mass which although large was buff.

No comments:

Post a Comment