I think I wrote this originally when I was 25 or so.
I would like to tell you a story…
A story about a man named Edward James, he is a good man, english born and raised, he came to America through New York in the 50s at the ripe age of 27, he was a tall man, lanky, with dark hair and eyes, a man that in the wrong light could scare the soul out of you.
A gaunt and almost featureless face, in the midst of a country breathing life. He lived in a Manhattan flat, not far from where he worked, he was some sort of scientist, being a logical man, not having a good understanding of the heart or soul, religious in his own way, he would sometimes enter a church just to sit and listen, hear the feeling of the man at the podium, feel the sound coming from this simple man put on this earth to try to help and save those that have lost their ways, he had a strong respect for such men, something of a nobility in that work.
Edward was no one special in the world, he spent most of his years in school, some of the best of England, he never made time for love or life, only work, to learn all that he could about “things”, just things in general, how things work, how things move, how things interact, and as such, had very little knowledge in the ways of the heart. He had felt those feelings, had hidden them for fear of loss, had run from those that might have given him something else, for fear of losing his way, he was convinced that all he had was his way in the world, he vowed that he would not let anything steer him from his course.
Then one day, while on his normal walk from home, the streets beaming with activity, the cool evening air breezing across the island, in the shadow of a sky scraper, he bumped into a woman, he was walking with his eyes up, breathing in the oranges and violets of the sunset sky, and with his eyes in the air, he did not see her coming. Crashing upon her, she dropped her bag of groceries, the food spilled across the ground, and he was dumb struck, not able to do anything but stare, an angel had fallen from the sky and bumped into him on the street.
She was framed against the darkening sky, as if painted there, meant to be there, eyes of bright green, glowing from the center of her marble white face, he could not speak, could not think. Could only stare, she stood to an amazing height, and apologized for accident, he answered with normal pleasantries, no, no, it was my fault, I am terribly sorry.
They spent a moment, trying to find all of the food, to gather it back into the bag, but in the spill the bag had been rended horibly unusable, without a thought he said that his home was not far, they could carry the food to his house and he could supply her with a replacement. For some reason that he did not understand, she agreed immediately.
As they walk down the path to his home, he studied her, she was tall, like him, creamy skin tight as stone, her eyes beaming from that milky white face, and the dark hair contrasting her appearance, making her seem almost unnatural. She instantly recognized that he was not from America, guessing that he was from England, and he told of her of his school, his life, how he had come to be here.
By the time they reached his home, they had all but forgotten about the groceries, he opened a bottle of wine and they talked all night.
They were married less than a year later, and lived happily in his home, Teresa and Edward, they were the happiest you could possibly imagine, she took care of his home, she was a wonderful wife, and he excelled at his work, gaining prestige in the City, becoming a renowned scientist, nothing special, but his work was well done, and he had a intensity in him that he had not had before. Just two short years later, when Edward was 31, they were blessed with their first of two children. Michelle, their oldest, was a beautiful dark girl, eyes of green like her mother, tall and slender, dark hair, she was obviously their daughter, the best of both of them combined, she grew quickly. Time flies by, Michelle grew older, took her first steps, spoke her first words, Edward’s eyes teared up every time she said daddy, it was his best accomplishment in life, he felt that he could die and would live forever.
Just a few short years later, when Edward was a young 35, they had another child, Melody, because of Teresa’s love for music, was the spitting image of her family, all of the same qualities, but this time with her Father’s dark eyes and intensity. She was intelligent, as much as her sister took to the logical, she took to the emotional, and by the time she was 4 was playing simple tunes on the piano.
A beautiful night that summer, the air was balmy, they were off to the school to see Michelle perform in a school play, she was now 8 years old, and had a mind of her own, he knew she would be something great, they sat in the old public school theater, mesmerized by their daughters words, she spoke them perfectly, projected them through the building, she was marvelous, and everyone had kind words to say of her the following day. Later that evening while driving home, a young man was coming home from his girlfriends home, his name is not important, but he and his girl had had a fight, one of thousand in the time that they had been together, he had been drinking, and was weaving about the road. Edward came about the corner and not 3 doors from his house the young man lost control of his car and plowed in to Edward’s, the James family was thrown about in their plymouth, and rested finally on the step of Mae Parks, the horn was blasting, the young inebriated man ran, scared of what he had done, ran like the wind, and swore to himself that he would never drink again.
Mae came from the house, and seeing the wreckage about the place, had her friend call the police, she moved about the car yelling and screaming, trying to get someone’s attention, Edward lifted his head from the wheel of the car, and turned about, trying to get his bearings, he looked in the mirror and saw dear Melody thrown into the space beneath the back glass, she seemed to be stuff in that space as if a doll, his wife lay across the dash, the glass above her head splintered and broken, red stained with the blood of his love. Michelle they did not find until the police arrived and began searching the scene, she was beneath the car, being flung from the back during the crash, was caught under the car and was barely recognizable. An hour later, after the police had gotten what information they could from the people in the surrounding area, and had gotten Edward to the hospital for the simple scratches and bruises, they kept him over night. He cried, he could do nothing but, he screamed at the empty room, to take him instead, to allow his love and his children to live forever, he could not bear what had been chosen for him.
The next day, he arrived home, and could not look at anything, he could not be in his home. He left his home with nowhere to go, he could not think, and just walked, his feet knowing the path, he ended up at work. As Edward walked through the door, everyone got quiet, he could hear his steps echoing about the building, he stepped into the elevator, and was met when it opened a few floors up, by his supervisor. He was escorted out of the building, told to go home, get rest, let things settle, that he could take as long as he needed, just to get himself through this. They would wait. He began to cry, he wanted to be at work, in that cold unfeeling room, with his logical thoughts and lack of feeling, but his supervisor was right, he needed to go home and try to work things out, to get things in order.
Less than a week later, he moved to another part of town, a simple home, he replaced most all of his furniture, gave away most of the stuff that he had, kept only what he needed. His Mother and Father came to visit, tried to talk to him, but there was nothing to be said, nothing that could calm that feeling in his mind. He took many walks, and on a cool evening, was walking about the neighborhood where he and they had lived, found himself standing on the corner in front of a church, looking down one street back to where he lived now, and the other, toward his past, he started to feel faint, he knees felt as if they would buckle, he walked into the church to sit. It made him feel better to hear the man at the pulpit speak, that there is a greater good at work, and that things happen for a reason. He felt better until he left, and when he looked down the street to his past home, he made a decision. He walked to his stoop, looked up at the building that he once had a life in, walked into the building and up the stairs, came upon the step of his past home. Stared at the door for what seemed to be an eternity, then opened it with the key, he never could bring himself to sell it, let himself in.
He instantly saw his daughters playing in the living room, saw his wife jumping about in the kitchen, making dinner. She was making his favorite, she heard him as he walked in the door, came towards him with a concerned look on her face, she instantly snatched him into her arms, and wiped the tears from his face. It is a special occasion, honey, I am making your favorite, he nodded and walked toward the kitchen, felt them float away again, felt the familiar smell fade away, the patter of the children in the living room disappeared with one last echo.
He stood in the center of his home, in the living room, and remembered where everything was, where the couch and chairs were, where the little area that Teresa used for mending and sewing, and tears welled up from inside, he could not live like he was, he could not go back, but he could not go forward either, he could not be without them, and he could not be with them. He fingered the trigger in his pocket, he felt the cold steel, felt the pain fall at bay in fear of that metal, cold, logical answer.
Mae Parks just a few doors away called the police when she heard the sound, the resounding echo bounced upon door and windows, back and forth across the street. When the police arrived they found Edward sitting about where his couch was clutching a picture of his family taken just a few days before the accident, at the age of 39, he had left this world trying to find his children.