Quiet Mike

Quiet Mike

@aladreth antoinette brown

"It's not that creepy." - said by a 'ghost' on EVP

"Quiet Mike." it's like a term I use to describe someone who reads my stuff and they want me to fuck them silly but they don't say it.  They just sit in the corner, reading, wanting and being quiet.

I have met Mike.  

Sometimes when you meet someone you get a certain feeling.  Like, "This is the one I can violate.  This is the one I can crawl right inside."

It's a feeling - one where you want to tear them apart.  In a good way, mind you.  Just a soft ripping of the flesh, not something like a bear or a tiger would do, but just a tiny thing, really.  Maybe get inside their mind and rummage around a bit.  Pretend you are a healer.  Pretend you are a psychic healer.  Mind fuck them.  Fuck them, in general.

I dated one person who believed in equality in relationships. 

Take note, one.  

Only one.  

Because it doesn't work.  There is never equality in relationships.  At least not the good ones.  

There is the individual who makes you want to thesaurus every single word for 'rip' and 'tear' and do it to all their memories, all their photographs, all their stories.  

There is the individual who will chase you and you will get a kick out of it for a certain period of time, but then you will not like it.  

It will be too much.  Maybe because you cannot stand to be put on that high of a pedestal.  Maybe you know, down deep you don't deserve that type of credit, that type of worship. 

Or maybe it's all in the evolution of man and woman, we need to have a chase.  And if someone is always there, then they are not chasing you, they are holding on to you, holding your leg, humping your leg.  They can't be on top of you at all times.  

So, you want the attention, you love the attention, but you want it at a level where you beg for it, where you go seeking to see where the hell they are, where you scream, "Why aren't you paying attention to me, Mike!?" 

"Chase me, Mike, chase me."

Give me a good run for my money, I say.  But, do it in a way where I am not tired as fuck to see you.  Don't make me wish you would drop off the face of the earth.  Make me want to keep up.  I am pretty high strung and can keep up with 98% of the people I meet.  Be that 2%, Mike.  Please.

So, Mike wants to come to Arizona.  I know he does.  He wants to know everything about Arizona.  He wants to talk about spiders and their webs and how they spin them.  He likes me to tell him the little witchie saying,

"If you want to live and thrive, let the spider stay alive."

He wants to hear about spiders on crack.  Spiders on caffeine.  I was in the middle of the study.  I researched it.  Their webs turned out all crazy like.  Nothing worse than seeing a spider on meth.

I know he wants me to sneak in a story about the Black Widow and how she eats her mates.  I know he likes stories like that.  

I hope to hell he likes my stories.  Because I like his hands and his art and that sort of manly look he has.  It's half boy, half man.  I don't know how to describe it but I want to smell him and just see if he's what I think he is.

I want him to be slightly scared of me.  But I want him to scare me.  Oh, he scares me already, but I don't want him to know.  Or, perhaps I do.

Yes, perhaps I'm scared of you, Mike.  And I don't scare easy.  At least I like to tell myself that.  Sometimes in the middle of the night I hear coyotes with their sharp shrill bark.  They sound like puppies, but coyotes are not puppies.  They will stare you down just for a moment like they are waiting for the second coming of Christ to set all things straight so they can lay down with the soft little sheep during the one thousand years of His reign. 

Coyotes wouldn't mind if you want to be the sheep, either.  You can see that in their eyes for just that split second. It's not an intelligent look like wolves.  

Wolves, you can see them and somehow feel you are their brother, like they are communicating with you and you want to run with them, dance with them.  They've made movies about it.  

Coyotes?  Not so much.  Dance with coyotes?  Doubt it.  I'm not saying coyotes aren't intelligent. I'm saying they really don't give a fuck one way or the other.  We have lots of coyotes on my mountain in Arizona.

Quiet Mike wants me to tell him about how a river is forged right through the middle of a dry bed in Arizona and he wants me to tell him how it's hot as hell, but it's a dry heat.  He wants me to tell him what the desert is like. 

 

You have to experience the desert, I can't write it, baby.  

I can tie you to a cactus in a wash - a dirty ditch and let you smell the desert at night, let you feel the flurries of snow at the noonday, yes snow!!! One day it blows white stuff out of the over cast sky in 45 degree temperature and the next day it's 85 degrees.  

You have to sit perfectly still in a Monsoon.  Sit right at the back of a mountain and breathe it in.  It's like pulling a groin muscle during sex.

Painful, hard, rough. 

God, the thunder and lightning you will get.  

Only in Arizona.

And you may think it's all cowboys and rural shit but there's cultural stuff here.  There was a gay pride parade today.  How much more cultural can you get? 

Mr. Glass was at the Scottsdale Center for Performing Arts.  We have coffee houses, okay?  Outdoor garden coffee houses.  The Paper Heart has performing artists and hell, they have slam poetry night in my little podunk town. They have a bunch of writers from the Colorado River who established a website and tell other wannabe writers how to write.  

Lots of people believe in UFOs in Arizona.  You can see the sky better in Arizona than any other place.  The darkest place in the world - the best place to see the stars is in Arizona. They say that and I believe them.

Arizona has a vortex.  And yellow leaves and people preach to lizards in Arizona.  

We were one of the last states to want to be a state and we were one of the last states to honour Dr. King, so the good ones of us are constantly trying to prove to everyone we are good and we aren't racist shits - we love everyone.  

We love more than our share of people. There are a lot of loving people here. 

 

Sure, there are some real cunts who used to live here and blew up a building almost twenty years ago if I'm sadly recalling correctly.  The anniversary of so many senseless deaths just passed and the pain of knowing the bomber lived in our state still remains, but there are nice people who make quilts who live here too.

I guess people talk about us.  People in other states. They wonder what type of people live in a desert surrounded by a golf course or a golf course surrounded by a desert.

We were one of the only states to impeach our governor and we have a crazy sheriff who folks even know about in Washington, DC.  

Chavez marched our streets.  We love pissing outdoors.  We love eating mangoes in the bath.  We love fresh juice.  When it's 128 degrees outside, we like to take lots of cold showers. 

Some of us have ten wives.  Some of us wish we had seven husbands.  One for every day of the week.

And the sky is bright blue.  There are the most insane fluffy clouds.  Yes, they are insanely fluffy.  They are like that one ice cream, you know, with whip cream and marshmallow and it's like a cartoon.  The sky with those clouds.  Just like a cartoon.

There are lots of stories just waiting to be written in Arizona.  Why is that Recreation Vehicle parked across the street?  Why do some of the birds sound like cats?  Why does the recently deceased body break down at greater speed when buried in the dirt than in water or laying exposed to the elements?  

Mike and I don't live in the same town, so maybe I can convince him to sit with an object all day - maybe a book, maybe he'll sit with it, put it to his hairy chest, carry it in his pocket, go drink with it, and then mail it to me so I can sniff it.  

I'll give him my address and tell him that's what I want.  

A book.  

A book he has slept with.  

And one day, Quiet Mike and I will meet at an out of the way place in Arizona.  A place near a mine.  A place where you can still mine silver for a small price. A place that has cantaloupe and we'll meet at this David Lynch style motel.  The motel will have a big neon burro sign out front. 

We'll meet at a seedy and weedy motel and I'll sit right on his face.  

He'll be so quiet; Quiet Mike.

Lonely Lucinda

Lonely Lucinda 
copyright @aladreth 2007-2013
(previously published 1st January 2007)


"The gods make this a happy day" Soldier: Antony and Cleopatra, IV, v.

Lucinda had a story.

Quite a story, really.

I'm sure I'll be writing her story many times throughout my lifetime because it's one you can make so much out of.  There's lots of lessons to learn from Lucinda's story.  There are times to laugh and times to cry.

Today, I will tell you her "New Year" story, because quite appropriately it is New Year's Day.

Lucinda had a good childhood.  There was nothing crazy or abusive in her childhood.

However, Lucinda's childhood stories sort of reminded me of how my dentist will talk about his very happy life as a child when he's working on my teeth.

He'll tell cute jokes and lament we should listen to Christmas music every day because it makes people happy.  He says the world would be a peace filled happy place if we all listened to Christmas music every day.

And maybe he's right.  There is documented proof, you know that Germans and English stopped fighting because of the song, "Silent Night."

Oh, my dentist, he'll be telling me great stories about his childhood and I'll make a sound like a knowing laugh in my throat with my mouth wide open, but I wonder.  He says he had such a good life but he has a horrible deep scar on one side of his cheek.

Oh, don't get me wrong, he's a lovely man and one I wouldn't mind bedding down a time or two, but it does make you wonder how he got so messed up if it wasn't in his childhood.

Lucinda's story is like that as well.

Her father died when she was young and that could scar someone, but it didn't seem to affect her much.  She continued having her teenage friends over all the time, except the one who believed the house to be haunted with her father's spirit.  See?  What did I tell you?  Another story!

All in all, Lucinda had plenty of teenage friends, parties and adventures that were positive.

She learned to drive a car, she even learned how to drive a car across country and pass the truckers on the interstate without looking at them, because if you look at them, you will veer in to their lane.  She learned that much.

She learned to drive through big rain storms and the scary Tulare, California fog, which rises off the water instead of coming out of the clouds.

She learned quite appropriately when to pretend you were dumb and when to show everyone how smart you really were.

There were rumours Lucinda's mother had slept with Lucinda's first two boyfriends after Lucinda's father was buried and gone.

The first boyfriend, Lucinda considered her first love and her mother made her get rid of him.  Her mother even helped her type an eleven page letter dumping him, but in a nice way, of course, telling him all the reasons why it was not healthy he keep pursuing her. You know, things like they had a lifetime to catch up with other people and hardly ever did first romances turn out.

The second boyfriend, Lucinda wanted to have sex with.  She wanted to lose her virginity, so they did it one night after months of doing everything but actual intercourse.  They did it the night he promised to be with her forever and promised they would have a beautiful two story house with a cute white picket fence, a station wagon, a shaggy dog, and 2.3 kids.

Well, you know the story, it didn't work out that way, and it probably was for the best because Lucinda realized years later she really didn't think that boy was "the one" for her.

Lucinda's mother got in a big ol' mess over that second boyfriend and I think we'll leave it for another story, but it wasn't at all  pleasant and Lucinda kept thinking about it and while it wasn't something her mother and her discussed, sometimes old friends who knew her, who had been around at the time, said things like, "You know your mother slept with him, right?" and stuff like that.

But, you know, at the end of the day, Lucinda only had her mother and her cousin.  She had other family but they weren't really interested in her.

Lucinda had good things going for her at different stages in her life and any of her family could brag about her, "Oh, my niece, Lucinda owns a business!" or, "Cousin Lucinda wrote a book!" or, "My half-sister, Lucinda really turned out great!"

But, this never happened to her knowledge.

Her mother loved her and her cousin loved her and her Aunt would send Christmas cards with her name spelled incorrectly, but all the same, she stayed in touch for Christmas.

Another cousin would write her once a year and another cousin would invite her to dinner once a year.

It wasn't their fault, of course, people get busy and you have your favourites in families, anyway.  So, Lucinda just marked herself as a person who wasn't a familia orientated type of gal.

She had two abortions.  She told me it was because she was fearful and selfish.  The first baby was conceived from a very abusive man and she refused to have him around any longer.  She felt the best way to get rid of him was to 'lose' his child she was carrying, and it worked.  Oh, he called her a few names none too nice, but he left.

She also couldn't imagine carrying a child out of wedlock if she  managed to get rid of him some other way.  It was against her religion to have an abortion, but it was also against her religion to be single and pregnant.

The second pregnancy, she was just too scared to go through with it. She was too fearful of all the doctor visits and hospitals and pain, and yes, she liked her life without children.  She could go and do whatever she wanted, not that she ended up doing so much, but that's where she brought in the 'selfish' bit to me, to tell me she wished she hadn't been so selfish, so fearful, so worried about what other people would think.

"So" is a powerful word.

We put it in front of everything to show it's over the top, more, better, worse, and "so" can get you in trouble more often than not.

Today, Lucinda's kids would be nearly grown, had she not had the abortions, and maybe Lucinda wouldn't be so lonely.  I mean, a kid can nearly kill you as they are growing up and all the stress they cause you, but she would have had some help around the house, she would have had someone who was part of her and had to love her in some way or other - even if they left her, they still had to say they had a mother, right?

Everyone has a mother.  Even if you don't want to acknowledge her, she's there.

Mothers.  And hell, even daughters.  That definitely will be another story.  There is this official quote about how the mother and the daughter are together forever even if they do not want to be and  they hate it sometimes, but they realize it is something they could not give up.  That connection.  That link.  It's a powerful one and many men have caused themselves serious grief trying to break it apart or separate it.  I suppose the quote is right, there is nothing that can destroy it - no matter how horrible or sad the relationship might be.

Anyway, this is a New Year's story, so let's get to it.

A few years ago, Lucinda finally fell in love for the first time in her life.

Amazing, isn't it, we can go through a life experience with our family, a life with our teenage romances, a life with our good friends in college, a life with our spouse, and never really fall "in" love until we are in our 30's or 40's.

I suppose it happens more often than not and it's something to analyze, I guess.

In Lucinda's case, it was a serious deep love and obsession.  She felt it had to be real because everything revolved around this man she had fallen for.  She would give up everything for him, she would die for him and according to her religion, that was the one mark and sign of true love.  Lest a man is willing to give up his life for another, then he does not know real love.

She was willing to give up everything.  Her nice home, her nice marriage, her nice church, her nice animals, her nice cars, her nice clothes.

Lucinda had a lot of nice things and she was willing to give them all up for this man.  So, she knew it had to be real and that even brought her more determination they would be together.

She put his name in her Last Will and Testament.  She had a few things she knew he would want if something happened to her.

She put his face on her desktop.  Every time she turned on her computer, it was there.

She put his voice on her CD player.  Every time she got in the car, she could hear him.

She put his picture on the table by her bed.  Every time she went to sleep she would dream of him.

Oh, don't get me wrong here, Lucinda wasn't a total sap.  She had reason to fall for the man. He was charming.  He was intelligent and manipulative.  He made her fall.  He was a Svengali of the truest sort.  Maybe he even hypnotized her or something, but I'll never believe Lucinda was playing this game with one participant.  No, honey, it takes two to tango.

Then as things go in these horrible unrequited love stories, Lucinda was miserable because well, her love was unrequited.

Totally unrequited, even when her love was of the most purest types - the ones the church would look upon as giving and humble and unselfish.

She was like the Mother Mary.  He was like the Christ Child she needed.  It was as if she had given birth to a new son and for him she would do anything - but her 'son' had no religion and had no real belief in soul mates or in anything long lasting or forever and anyway, it's hard to love someone who loves you with such complete love when you know you are unlovable.  And, I think he really didn't think he deserved it.

It's hard to believe in God.  It's hard to believe in Goddess.  It's hard to believe in Angels, especially if you don't think you deserve any of the deity's attention.

And, not to make Lucinda a true goddess of our time, but she was nearly perfect in her love for the 'son.'

But, eventually we can't handle loneliness or unrequited love because we are creatures who need something.

Something, anything, some spark to make us hold on.  We can only live in the past dreams for so long.

When someone stops their greetings of sweet nothings or when someone stops saying you are the one for them, it's hard to hold on.  We are not Saints.  We are mere mortals who need each other.

Yet, we must be true to ourselves, must we not?

So, Lucinda left one day without saying goodbye.

In reality, it wasn't like the man would miss her, right?

But, let me tell you, it was hard for Lucinda, it was like God turning His back on His very Flesh as He was dying.

Lucinda drove for an entire day in silence to get to Mexico.  She sat on the border of Arizona and Mexico in this park where the orange leaves were falling.  It was the end of December. It was right before the New Year and it was something like an October Autumn in Mexico.  She wore a purple sweater and jeans and she sat on the cool ground.

She became "one with nature" for the very first time in her life.  Oh, everyone thinks they can commune with nature when they are hiking a mountain or rafting a white river, but really to sit and listen for the answer from the Great Mother, as we call Her, it's hard to do. There are so many distractions in our life.  There are so many times we cannot be at peace with ourselves.  We long for distractions to keep us from seeing the truth.

Seldom do we sit at peace and wait for an answer.

But, that is just what Lucinda did.

Later that day, Lucinda ended up in a family restaurant where there was a large manger scene sitting out.  They didn't care Lucinda was there.  They didn't need to be 'politically correct' in front of her.  It was a celebration time for the family.  Lucinda sat in the midst of this happy family.

They sang:

"Jesús en pesebre, sin cuna, nació; 
Su tierna cabeza en heno durmió. 
Los astros, brillando, prestaban su luz 
al niño dormido, pequeño Jesús. 
Los bueyes bramaron y Él despertó, 
mas Cristo fue bueno y nunca lloró. 
Te amo, oh Cristo, y mírame, sí, 
aquí en mi cuna, pensando en ti.
Te pido, Jesús, que me guardes a mí, 
amándome siempre, como te amo a ti. 
A todos los niños da tu bendición, 
y haznos más dignos de tu gran mansión."

The restaurant served the best tacos in the world, Lucinda thought.

She felt very comfortable with herself for the first time in months.

She realized she could be happy without the man she loved so much.

Oh, she would always love him.

But, she could be alone.  She was totally alone there in Mexico.  She didn't know the language.

She just knew how she felt and that was the day she decided to leave the one true love of her life.

Oh, it took a few months after that.  Things are never so cut and dry or black and white, are they?

But, that was the day.

That was the day her New Year began.