Thu, 19 May 2005

seventh devil dub
I woke up in the back of the van, which we had left running all night so as not to freeze. I tried to look outside but the windows were frosted over, so I opened the door and peeked out at a parking lot tucked in the center of a block of downtown businesses, everything in snow, Sunday-empty. I quickly shut the door and turned to look at Sarah, up in the driver’s seat, blowing smoke at the windshield. There is no place where Sarah is as happy as behind the wheel of her van, going anywhere, doesn’t matter. We’d been sitting here for two days and she was getting nervous, sleeping less, and she never really slept much. During the night I’d decided we couldn’t wait around any longer; we’d hang out until eight, go to the truck plaza, get some breakfast and showers and head north up 28. If it were just about me, I’d wait forever for Pamela, but I’m trying to think more about other people this year, and there’s too much left to do.

“How long you been up?” I asked Sarah.

“Not long. Half an hour. I’m gonna run around the corner and get coffee.”

“Actually let’s just go. We’ll hit Cedargreen on the way out.”

“Yeaaaaaah, now that’s what I’m talking about. Pancakes and sausage and the open road.”

“Fucking a. I’m gonna piss real quick, first.”

“Take your time. I gotta scrape the windows.”

Back a year ago, when I moved into Sarah’s van, I would have offered to do that, at least to help, but now I know better. The van is hers, and I’m not to fuck with anything, as I am ignorant to its inner wisdom. Which was okay by me. I ran over to the dumpsters by the print shop and was just starting to take care of the morning business when I saw headlights pull in the far alley. I crouched down, causing myself an awful pain, but I didn’t care, as I knew the plates, knew who it was.

It had been two years since I had seen Pamela Bambelam and just to see part of her face in profile from a good fifty yards away was enough to stop me dead. I’ve never told her I still love her, but she has to know, every time she picks up the phone she has to hear it in my voice, even now that I’ve fallen off the earth. Now more than ever.

I almost forgot to zip up my pants before I walk to her, watching as she got out of the car, looking at the van, looking at me, running toward me.

Eventually I will have to tell her everything, and she will never speak to me again, but I wasn’t thinking about that as she threw her arms around me. I wasn’t thinking about anything, which is another way of saying I was happy.
(12:25.05.19.2005) [/scrytch] #