18. Eudora’s Knight

The rhythm of the rain reminds the roaming reminiscing romantic that the tree top fog had dissipated. Some other pilgrim may notice the change in weather. Clouds coast along the night sky, mysterious and emancipating simultaneously. Sometimes some wet wanderers are not aware how or why their cigarettes remain lighted in the rain. While others still unknowingly puff away at rain soaked butts, unlit , as they gradually fall apart. The river runs rapidly and the banks can wash away any indication of the previous presence of once welcomed wrestling lovers and nested geese. The great space that once allowed vessels of various sizes flow freely under the bridge to nowhere can be narrowed by the rising waters only permitting the passage of a lonely log drifting aimlessly downstream.

 

Sundance dashing from the bedroom to the fridge for two more beers for himself and his momentary lover asked Isabella

 

“Where’s Jake?”

 

“Oh, he went out for one of his famous walks in the rain” she said annoyingly looking up from her textbook.

 

Sundance grabbed a third bottle of beer and squeezed himself onto the couch where Isabella lay. Making sure the bedroom blanket adequately covered his lower half of his body he gifted the third beer to Isabella.

 

“To Jake!”

 

She raised her bottle half-heartedly in response.

 

“I guess.”

 

Sundance continued,

 

“Ya know I remember one night last fall when it was pouring so hard my family frantically scrambled to look for Noah’s boat design in the bible when all of a sudden there was a ring at the door bell. There stood a drenched worn down pilgrim who had just walked seven or eight miles during that precursor to the probable great last flood. He looked like a pathetic puppy abandoned along some unmarked county road in the middle of Nowhere Ville, New Jersey. And, yet…I couldn’t believe it …and yet…there he stood with his big silly grin standing in the doorway as my mother answered the door and he says ‘Hi, Mrs. Cassidy is Sundance home?’ Good ole vagabond soaked Jake standing there just as if it were a same as any other night.

 

My mother looked around and didn’t see his car and as she invited him in she inquired ‘ where’s your car? Did someone drop you off?’

 

He wiped his feet and responded

 

‘No ma’m. I walked.’

 

My mother called out for me and demanded that I get him some dry clothes while she made some fresh hot chocolate. Though I apologized for my mother Jake was unusually grateful. My younger brother thought Jake was cool and my sister just said ‘weird’ and both left us alone in my room. He didn’t say much of anything about why he was there, something about butting heads with his father again. I tried to change the subject and soothe him by playing the song ‘Yesterday’ for him. I was proud that I had just figured out all the chords. I am not sure but I think I saw his eyes well up as I played my rendition of the song.”

 

Isabella listening intently now touched Sundance’s hand

 

“ I know about that night. “ she said and continued

 

“Jake did tell me about that evening was how welcoming and hospitable you and your family were. I know he is still grateful for your friendship. But at the same time that’s Jake. It seems like he is drawn to walking alone in the rain almost as if there are voices calling he can’t resist.”

 

Sundance took a swig of his brew as he heard Diana’s voice call from the bedroom

 

“Where’s that beer sweetie?”

 

“Well, duty calls and I am here to serve you know. He’ll be ok. He always is isn’t he?”

 

Isabella smiled

 

“Yeh , I am not worried. Now go live up to your duty and I can get back to my studying.”

 

Isabella was quick to get lost again in her studying and the next time she looked up from her books three hours had passsed since Jake had made his departure. Coincidentally, as she checked her watch again to see if the time was really what she thought it was as she heard the front door open slowly. Jake was not too effective in being inconspicuous squishing his way across the parquet floors leaving big duck like wet footprints.

 

He saw Isabella awake on the couch

 

“Hey, you ok?”

 

Isabella smirked

 

“I think the question is ‘Are you ok?”

 

“Yeh, just a little wet. I need a drink. You got any smokes?”

 

Sometimes certain exchanges are better off not to pursue or to continue the path down a certain line of questioning. Sometimes silence is the best course of action. She was totally aware that if Jake wanted to talk about where he had been and so on he would have presented himself at her feet immediately upon passing through the portals of Diana’s castle giving full report of his short pilgrimage with accompanying eight and a half by eleven black and white glossies if he could.

 

He grabbed a beer, found a communal cigarette pack on the kitchen table and chugged the bottle and smoked a butt all in what seemed to be one big inhale.

 

Isabella couldn’t resist and succumbed to her nature

 

“Are you sure you are ok?”

 

“I think me and Sundance need to head up to Walden Pond tomorrow and spend some time there before I head back home.”

 

“Ok. I wasn’t really expecting you guys to be here in the first place. You talk to Sundance about this? “

 

Isabella sat up and continued

 

“This is kind of abrupt isn’t it? Anything happen out there?”

Jake slowly began to lie down on his back finishing off his cigarette.

 

“ I don’t know. It’s weird ya know. There I was walking along the Charles River when I saw this dark figure standing on the outside of the railing on the bridge that crossed the river. I went up to this person and it was a girl. Actually she looked a lot what I imagine my sister would have looked like if she had lived. So I asked this girl if she was ok. She mumbled something of how her fiancé’ was MIA in Vietnam and how no one could give her good answer or any hope. I think she was crying. I really couldn’t tell with all that rain. When I asked she said her name was Jen and I reached out to help her back to the walkway side of the bridge. Without any discussion we both just strolled together, just talking about general stuff: weather, Boston  …you know. I saw a coffee shop still open and asked her if she would like a cup. We went in and just like that this girl just went on an on talking for a couple of hours about nothing specific, just talking bout stuff. I just kept pouring coffee trying to keep awake and listening while she went on about this and that. When we walked out the coffee shop she squeezed my hand, said ‘your sweet’ and gave me a quick peck on my cheek. She turned left and walking up a hill disappeared from view and I came back here. I have no idea who she was, where I was, how I got there or how I got back. It’s just all very strange, ya know. I felt like I should have a catcher’s mitt or something. “

 

Isabella joined the speculation

 

“Maybe this incidental encounter is one of those mystical planned coincidences as to why you came up here with Sundance in the first place. Maybe that’s why you ended up at Diana’s. Maybe that’s why you felt called to go out and walk in the rain. Maybe you were meant to meet that girl and in some way save her. You don’t need a weatherman to know which way the wind’s blowing, so let it be.”

 

She was teasing him but Jake took everything she said seriously, as always. Jake bent his head rubbing his eyes and answered

 

“Yeh , but maybe it was all a dream. ”

 

“Well don’t over-think or over-analyze it like some populist pundit philosopher or fledgling English professor! You might hurt yourself.“

 

Isabella thought twice about her curt remark and then leaned over to the floor where Jake was lying down and whispered in that sweet seducing soft voice to Jake

 

“I am sure you were helpful to that girl .You do give good ear, Jake.”

 

“Wha?”

 

“Jake, you must be tired. Let it be.  Get some sleep and maybe you are right …maybe you need to just head home tomorrow.”

 

Jake was almost completely asleep on the floor by the time Isabella could get back to the couch. She picked up her books and muttered

 

“Ah, just another night in paradise.”

12. The Achilles Factor

The arrival of a new season can be misleading by the expectation that a particular date or event will automatically switch on or off a particular climate or environment.  Waking up to a new day can be similar in many ways. Jake used to wake up to a new day and be grateful that he made it through another night. Sundance would wake and get busy right away because he had so many plans. The first thing their old friend Ed used to do after he opened his eyes was to look out the window. If he saw one cloud he would get worried that the weather might take an unexpected turn sometime during the day. Jake thought that Ed did whatever he could to avoid mowing lawns, which was his job during the summer months.

 

Christmas is more than a special day. It is a season. Scripture and preachers write a lot about hope and salvation that last few months of the calendar year. That morning of the twenty fifth day of the last month expectations were always mixed in the Niebo household. One never knew what would be under the decorated tree, if anything. Some years were better than others for Jake’s dad at work. The number of ornate wrapped gifts would be an indicator of how Jake’s father’s work life was doing. Jake tried to manage his expectations, as sometimes disappointment became a regular companion. Surprises wouldn’t be surprise if the heart or mind weren’t jolted unexpectedly. He was slow to learn that gifts come in all different sizes and forms.

 

Sundance stopped strumming “Yesterday” as Jake continued to press the Black Beauty’s pedal to the floor and out of the blue asked

 

“ Did you hear about Michael Chamberlin?  I heard he signed up to go to Nam. Then he volunteered to go on some secret dangerous mission. Someone said it was into Cambodia. The rumor has it that he was captured and tortured. They said they found his head on a post along the path that was used by our troops for their incursion into Cambodia. Then I have heard that he is just classified as MIA. Who knows.”

 

“Who cares!”  , Jake grimaced.

 

“Come on let it go Jake. Just cuz he bullied you in high school for wearing those Beatle boots to school one day.”

 

“Well, the truth is that this punk and his brothers had started that whole chain of fights or bullying a couple of years before the Beatle boots incident. They were in the Boy Scout troop I was in and one night at a bonfire we had they smeared burnt marshmallows all over my uniform. So as I left found their bikes and jumped on their wheels and destroyed the spokes when they weren’t looking. The wheels were busted so badly that they couldn’t ride home. Eventually they all guessed who did it and started to threaten me at school saying they would hunt me down to beat me up. But they never got me until the Beatles boot incident.”

 

“But didn’t you get Michael thrown out of school for assaulting you?”

 

“No, that was my dad. When Father Adolph asked for a meeting with those involved with the Beatles boot incident and that’s where my father threatened to file charges against the school and sue them for not protecting me …since it was a private school an all. He also threatened to file assault charges against the three boys. ”

 

“Could he do that?”

 

“Who knows but my dad was pissed and Adolph was scared. So my dad insisted that Michael and his friends be suspended or thrown out. Michael’s two buddies got permanent detention for the remainder of the school year and Michael was kicked out of school. But he threatened to have me mugged by his friends when I least expected it. “

 

“Well, I guess he really got his in Nam then!”

 

Jake smiled “Yep, but if there was a God the Viet Cong would have skinned him and eaten him alive.”

 

“You are an unforgiving nasty bastard aren’t you? You were mugged weren’t you?”

 

“Yeh, but that was someone else and a result of another fight I had.”

 

“You are always in a fight!”

 

“Well, isn’t that what life is all about?”

 

(Time goes faster for some. Some are more lucky than others and some will always pay for their sins. It would be about twenty years later that Sundance read an article in Time Magazine about how that same Michael was one of the first prisoners of war who was returned by the Viet Cong. He had admitted to being part of the Central Intelligence Agency and was eventually captured again by rebels in Northern Africa in the early 1980’s while posing as a missionary. Sundance threw the magazine away and laughed.)

 

Suddenly a red bead began to make herself known on the horizon, larger and larger, slowly transforming the black canopy to a spectacular virgin blue. The rain and clouds evaporated from sights and existence. The river of history and revolution was also apparent flowing at their side. They followed the River Charles and sang together

 

“I love that dirty water….oh Boston you’re my home!”

 

It seemed as though only minutes ago that they left Fairfield. Sundance insisted on making one last pit stop before they would make entry into Boston. Jake thought that Sundance had a weak bladder but when they pulled into the rest stop Sundance darted quickly to the local phone booth, looked around to see if anyone was looking or awake in their cars and yanked out three of the poorly anchored phone books. Jumping into the Black Beauty he shouted

 

“Take off hurry…and I will look up Salinger and Kerouac. I am not sure if this book has Lowell listings but we’ll see and if we can’t find them here we’ll go to the library.”

 

Jake thought

 

“What?”

 

He had been lost in thought about Isabella and trying to connect with her while they were all in Boston and their original motivation he thought of trying to see Kerouac, Salinger or visiting Walden Pond had remained in Connecticut somewhere.

 

Sundance observed

 

“It’s early yet and I’m hungry. We need to find a place to eat.”

 

“There’s the Peter Pan Pancake House on Commonwealth Avenue in Kenmore Square”

 

Jake knew that place well as he an Isabella use to eat the a lot when he spent time with her.

 

“Is that anywhere near where Isabella is staying?”

 

“Yeh, she lives in 700 Commonwealth dorms right down the street.”

 

“Ya gotta call her then. Maybe she would meet us for breakfast?’

 

The inside of Jake’s head started to spin again. It was probably the sleep deprivation that was throwing him off.  He thought he just need some coffee before he would decide on whether or not to reach out to Isabella. He tried putting off responding to Sundance’s recommendation as long as he could. Sooner or later we all have to answer the question about what is it really that we want in life, or at least now? Jake remembered something about Billy Barrows’ comments in some of the Wanderers yearbooks about deciding and not deciding.  It had been years since he considered becoming a priest. What is the source of a true calling anyway? Sometimes one needs to listen with the heart instead of one’s ears. Sometimes we need to learn to listen to the silence as it speaks louder and clearer than any human or animal voice. Sometimes we make deals with God to help pass a science exam in order to graduate. His vocation would be left up to his bargain with God.

 

His novena ….

 

“Help me pass this exam and I will become a priest . Well I will at least check into it. I promise!”

 

When he realized that the exam wasn’t that difficult and passed with flying colors he sent off for an application to Holy Mary Seminary and that’s the extent of his “checking into it.” 

 

Edie Parsons soon afterwards diverted Jake’s attentiveness from completing the application to the seminary by baptizing him into the Church of Aphrodite. A new voice was heard. The intermittent skirmishes with bullies also kept his mind off the spiritual path. But sometimes he worried if God was angered that Jake had backed out on his end of the bargain. Jake wondered if that’s why he had difficulty at times with schooling or relationships with females. Maybe this was his penance. He rationalized

 

“God you let the Hebrews wander for forty years because they didn’t show their gratitude or trust for their rescue from the Egyptians and you let them wander! Or were they really lost? Anyways, aren’t bound to let me wander or even get little lost too! Right? ”

 

The state of being lost would become his perpetual purgatory. He was still wandering. His promised land unrealized. Then again maybe it was all a youthful dream.

 

“Whack” came another sudden Sundance special big smack on the back Jake’s head jolting his brain forward back to the matter at hand.

 

Sundance barked

 

“Just give me Isabella’s phone number and I will call her to invite her to breakfast.”

 

Well practiced at the art of  “what if” worrying , without hesitation Jake wondered aloud …

 

“What if she isn’t there? What if she says no ? What if she is with another guy?  What if we wake her up…. she’s grumpy early in the morning!”

 

“Just gimme the number and you can start looking for Kerouac’s and Salinger’s addresses.”

 

The sun slowly rising higher in the heavens, birds of all colors, sizes and formations careened across the River Charles as rowers muscled their sculls swiftly down river and duck boats cruised to their tourist docks near the harbor. Marathoners, joggers and walkers sweated their way along the banks’ paved paths monitoring their heart rate preparing to breathe one more breath,“nike.” Everything seemed to be running with the current down to the sea. Jake stopped and secured a seat to rest in the pancake place, phone books on his lap, watching the river flow as he glimpsed at Sundance wondering.

 

Jake was tired and found himself waiting again.

 

 

+++++++++

3. Doing Calypso !( v.3)

 

Charting a course takes some time, discipline and focus. It’s always helpful to have some idea where your vessel is headed. There have been many ships that have departed harbors that were not equipped to handle the unknown sea. Then there are many sailors who lack the skill and confidence for long voyages. Though he was finally getting his bearings Jake’s lack of confidence brought him to a safe harbor on Staten Island. In an attempt to explain his almost religious attendance at selected bars he wrote

 

“The divine created taverns for artistic respite, rejuvenation and redemption”

 

Jake needed all three. Lost souls have special sonar when searching for these chapels of insobriety. Some of these watering holes are famous for infusing courage and wisdom for wandering pilgrims. Most often they are sanctuaries from the storms created by raging gods. If one didn’t drown in a rogue wave a bar could be the place to drown one’s fears.  Dionysus provided the sacred serum sanctifying the artists seeking salvation. All Jake knew was that many of the great writers secured their place in history with the assistance of swigging succulent nectars before , during or after their creative surges . He dedicated himself to be a pledge for a fraternity of the ”new lost generation”. So until he found a way to get to Boston , Frisco , Paris or wherever authors and poets would gather to consume libations heartily , smoke cigarettes vigorously and commiserate fastidiously he affirmed his commitment - to become an official  “AAIT“(Alcoholic Author In Training.) He knew had a lot of catching up to do on all aspects of his vocation. The first step in his formation was to secure a regular seat that was “reserved” just for him at a specified tavern. Once secured the bartender would become so familiar with his regularity that he would automatically pour Jake’s personal preference before he would place your weary bones on the stool . There his compline commenced.

 

As the fates would have it one night another lost pilgrim too numb to move had inadvertently taken Jake’s seat. It was not a night for fighting as Jake relinquished his throne and wandered aimlessly. He wobbled and weaved from one side to the other of the tavern murmuring to himself

 

“ Jut one more Jack D rocks.”

 

Eros disguised as some earthly drunkard in drag shoved Jake right  into the path of  a fellow  “Wanderer” Ed Hule. The Wanderers weren’t a gang, posse or band . They were more like a drifting out of formation gaggle of geese. A lot of honking and little progress on their flights to nowhere while crapping wherever they landed.

 

 A quick look into each others’ vacant eyes and without a second thought Ed said

 

“ Hey, Niebo (Jake’s last name) , Stop right there.” .

 

Like a street magician Ed materialized a brown-eyed girl with baby hair explaining to both how being unattached is not necessary nor a good thing and it only made sense to connect. He delivered them to a table like two lost dogs eager to be fed. Ed departed and would never be seen again. Maybe he knew what was about to happen and split for safety to the coast. Her name was Joan; Jake would call her by her middle name Isabella. She was somewhat familiar with his reputation as he dated her good friend, Edie Parsons,( pre-Mary Lou ) for years. Her friend was the one that proclaimed that the song  “He’s a Rebel” as Jake’s theme song!  Like a mesmerized Manchurian Candidate Jake would raise his denim jacket collar and slipped on his shades and adopted her suggested identity whenever he heard that song of the sirens .The Wanderers then nicknamed Jake “Reb.”  Billy continued to call him “Ish”, short for Ishmael. Jake would come whenever Edie called his name. The betting line wasn’t in favor of Edie and Jake continuing as a couple.

 

Some relationships flourish or die before they even start. Nature and the intervention of the divine can determine the success or failure of a relationship. Jake’s sometimes pseudo -spiritual beliefs provided excuses from having any responsibility abut his own success or fate. God, angels , ghosts or ancient deities were chosen at random as reasons for his own personal success or failure. He was a convenient agnostic or a convenient believer. It depended on the circumstances. But when those holy endorphins kick in nothing can stand in the way of desire. Suddenly he found himself that night at the bar immersed in mystical conversation with Isabella . Social justice ,  theology ,  great books , “should Dr. Zhivago have left his wife” and other such topics and  interrogatories presented by this nymph guided their slow boiling exchange . By the misty morning fog they were imitations of Van Morrison characters with their hearts thumping.

 

She confidently wrote her number on a match book without waiting for it’s request. In return he coyly waited a few hours that same morning after he got home to call her. Jake didn’t want to seem too anxious. One date, two dates, three and before you could spell synchronicity four dates .

 

Isabella was thinking

 

“Good kisser.”

 

Isabella was aware about the danger of curiosity but she needed to know more about Jake. She couldn’t determine what to make of the unsolicited diverse opinions she heard about Jake and his behavior. Lost in her confusion one friend confided that she should get inside story from the only one who probably was aware of what made Jake tick , Sundance. When she finally caught up with Sundance all he had to say about Jake was that when he was in high school

 

"He kept questioning authority until he discovered all of their answers were wrong".

 

When one pictures sailing one doesn’t usually imagine twenty foot waves with forty mile per hour wind gusts threatening all hands on deck. It would also be a while before Jake and Isabella learned how to sail their relationship together in fair weather and foul. Flipping to a blank page on a one candle lit night he scripted

 

“In a dream birds rested from their mutual soaring on the convenient branches preparing to sing praising and celebrating a rebirth , as new light peaked over the horizon .A whisper of unknown origin shined on them  in a voice only they could hear -

 

‘It is time. It is time’”

 

The magical sea that once parted allowing his initial escape was complete again and the desert wandering was nearing it’s end . Jake could smell the sweetness of an unseen promised land.

 

The daily boxes on his wall calendar were filled with scribbles about giving scheduled guitar lessons and playing with the band in bars. There was an exception. Four days near what the church called Laetare Sunday nothing had been scheduled. Jake was ready to fill that void. The future was waiting for him to arrive.

 

Stars look like they align every so often. One doesn’t always need a sextant to know what course to take on an open sea. Isabella was the studious kind and she valued academic success as personal achievement. It was not a surprise for her to stay in Boston for the week prior to exams. A positive RSVP to Sundance’s invitation was becoming a reality. Sundance too was tired of waiting. Besides, Jake and Isabella  were sort of half broken up. “Half broken up” was a state of the relationship negotiated by Isabella during their money and security debates. Love was never an easy game to play for either of them. Jake thought that love was free and could be lot easier to manage if they weren’t encumbered by economic considerations, but the money was both blessing and burden. He planned to sort this all out sooner or later.

 

He started to sing one more song loud enough for Sundance to hear him a 100 miles away,

 

“Hold on I’m coming!”