BN Preview #1
First vignette from Bird Noises, my work in progress.
— Swimming Upstream
I don’t believe in fate. People say bad things happen for a reason – it’s God’s way of teaching us, of sending an important message. But I can’t accept that. If we dismiss every tragedy as a lesson, something to grow in spite of, then what of the sacrifices made? If you wake up one morning to find out that your best friend had died in a horrible accident, does that mean that their entire reason for being was to die so that you could learn? Do the ends justify the means, then?
I asked these questions of a woman from church, who listened patiently, but I knew it was out of obligation and not because she had any real interest in my questioning. Eventually, I gave up trying to reach out to her and fell silent. She put her hand on my shoulder and said, in a soft voice, “Don’t worry, child. God’s light will shine through your doubts and see you through to the end.” I nodded automatically, wishing I could believe her, but all I could think about was how she smelled of roses and baby powder.
To be honest, these days I only went to church out of habit. Somewhere down the road, I had lost my faith in humanity, and my faith in God wasn’t far behind. I wanted to believe. I really did. But I couldn’t, and faith isn’t something that can be forced.
After church, I typically go for a walk in the park just down the hill from my house. With summer in full swing, it has been getting more crowded, and there is almost always a party going on under one of the pavilions. Despite this, I’ve always managed to secure a secluded spot under a tree to sit and rest. Usually, I’d read, but today I found it hard to focus on my book. I kept thinking back to the night of James’ funeral.
I hadn’t gone. Instead, I wound up at a family-owned bar, wearing a black dress and a somber look. I don’t know why, but the closer I got to the church, the more I wanted to run away. Perhaps I wasn’t ready to say goodbye. Perhaps I was scared.
The bar was dimly lit and an old jukebox sputtered out 80’s tunes. The bar had a real classy look – photos of strangers lined the wall, mixed in haphazardly with license plates and memorabilia from previous decades. I recognized a few of James’ friends seated at the middle of the bar. They glared at me accusingly as I sat at the far end and ordered a drink.
Hypocrites. They were all here for the very same reason.
An old TV set was playing a recording of a football game. A heroic player scored that final touchdown, leading the Steelers to victory. I had seen it a dozen times.
“Man I will never forget that moment,” one of the guys at the bar began. “Remember how James jumped up and got his hand caught in the ceiling fan?” His friends laughed half-heartedly, mumbled a few “yeahs”, and went back to their drinks.
James had been devoted to the city united by its sports teams. He said it was easy to make friends as long as you wore a black and gold jersey. He loved Pittsburgh and had been ecstatic to see it through a Super Bowl and a Stanley Cup. But the City of Champions had a life of its own and hadn’t noticed his passing. But I noticed, and all the golden cups and bowls in the world could not fill the gaping hole he had left behind.
Suddenly I had to get out of that bar, before I suffocated from the gloomy atmosphere that threatened to suck the remaining life out of me. The men watched me leave with solemn looks on their faces, as if they were envious of my ability to escape that place. I stepped out of the building into blinding sunlight. I shielded my eyes for a moment, as I had forgotten it was still early in the afternoon, and the day was far from over. I crossed the street and headed home. In the grass under an aging oak tree, I noticed a newly-hatched bird. The mother flew down and tried in vain to carry it back up, but after a few moments, she gave up and left the baby there, alone, and returned to her other children.
There is a Native American tribe that believes that the trout’s upstream journey is symbolic of the soul’s struggle to reach Heaven after departing the body. I wondered if James, always determined to win and ready for a challenge, had had any trouble at all.
