Amethyst Morning (Blogophilia 31.12)

The shrill beep rattled him awake. Blinking his eyes, the screen’s pale light on the table. Damn phone. He’d passed out on the balcony again, light filtered through the building across the street. He managed to pick it up without knocking over the bottle and saw the little line on the screen. Sarah had posted another hiking picture on Instagram, Quinn’s Junction this time. Miles and miles open country compared to overgrown palms and shrubbery he saw along his street. Grief came out as a sigh. Why didn’t he just unfollow? Or better yet, why didn’t she block him? She did it on purpose. Pictures only reminded him of what was lost.

He'd been conditioned to believe divorce ended in desolation.The word described the last year and half. He'd been busy being faithful and working hard, while she made him out like Satan incarnate. All the trappings of the “good life” dissolved before his eyes. Maybe it started when the plant closed, it took him awhile to get the job at the warehouse. They’d managed to come out in the end. Debt was higher because of the dead time, but manageable. However, signs were missed. She didn’t care how he was doing. Nothing mattered, she was in her own little world.

A credit card statement came from a bank he didn’t know with a balance of $3,500, $1,000 of it past due. She denied knowing about it. Maybe it was fraud or a mistake. Two days later he read it through. Hotel rooms in Park City, Las Vegas and Denver with dates matching his own out-of-town business trips. Some were one night, others long weekends. Turned out, she was screwing a widowed Elder. Somehow, he’d kept his cool and walked out with only the clothes on his back. It was the last time he was allowed in the house. Soon, she turned up the heat, accusing him of beating her, of having his own affair. She claimed she only fled to the Elder for protection. A restraining order was issued and she sold all of his belongings without telling him.

The congregation believed the lie. He was fired from the warehouse when the proceedings went public. Most of his former friends turned the other way if they saw him. No one take his resume in town. The only solutions were to leave or die. If he died there, she likely would have had his cremated ashes go to the landfill. The Elder never got any flack. Position has its advantages, after all. It was like the congregation didn’t care.

He fled to Phoenix. A non Mormon cousin had a house where he could crash. He bummed around, but it was too much like Salt Lake. Camelback loomed over the town like a ghost. All of the neighbors were Mormon and quickly shunned him when they found he was fallen. It was the last straw. He was moving far away as possible. He got the lead for a Quality Assurance Tech in Tampa from a former friend who warned him not to tell anyone. He understood.

The interview went well and he got this cheap apartment until he could find something better. It wasn’t exactly paradise, but it would do. The job was boring and he never saw much of his neighbors. Mopping the sweat out of his thinning hair, he laughed a little.A single bougainvillea trellised up a palm tree just over rail. Not something you’d see in the desert. It was different, flat, humid, and smelling of rot and salt.

The breeze picked up, giving him a little more energy. The glass on the table was empty and it was too early to fill it, might as well do something. Looking down the street, he noticed a few tents popping up. Might as well check it out. Out of habit, he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. If you didn't do that out west, you'd drop from dehydration. It was the same here, except you could see the sweat. Sauna versus steam bath. At least here you didn't get lizard skin.

It was an arts festival sponsored by a local fast food law firm. Each booth was like the one before. Dust catching kitsch destined to a future of yard sales and thrift stores when they went out of fashion. Walking did get his mind off the pity pot, though. A watercolor of a sunset over a marina was especially striking, the mast of a sailboat silhouetted along the horizon. He wanted to be there sailing into the sunset.

Moving on he passed a jewelry counter piled high with crystal and birthstones. The stones were arrayed on black cloth to bring out the color and strung with thin silver chains. He knew they would break with just a yank. They had broken more than one in bed. He never wore it himself, never could stand metal on his skin.

As he walked by, a raspy voice stopped him.

“Aren't you Mickey Rourke?”

Huh? Turning around, the proprietor was waving at him. She could have been 70 for all he knew, an old Hippie who never grew up. She smelled like patchouli. Two things stood out, silver hair flowing to her butt and a heart shaped necklace glowing in the mid-morning sun. Sarah had loved this stuff. Something made him feel uneasy, but he couldn’t place it. Her whole presence screamed used car salesman, cold eyes and fake smile.

“I don't think so.” An unseen force seemed to bring out his hand. “Madam, I’m Adam Pilsowicz.”

He wasn’t going to give his real name. Sarah’s spies seemed to be everywhere and he didn’t want what little he had messed up.

“I'm sorry. I guess my eyes are getting old”. Making a show of putting on her glasses, she squinted a bit and shook his hand. “My name is Kari Summers. You're new here, I know all the regulars.”

Was she just being friendly or did she have something else in mind?

“I came from out west, trying to make a new start.” Enough info for now.

“Welcome to Florida. I'm actually from Atlanta, but this sale is so good to me. Folks down here order all year.” She played with the pendant around her neck while she talked. Probably a nervous habit, he thought.

“Interesting pendant. It’s an amethyst, right?”

It blinked, like it knew it was being talked about. Fingering it absently, she replied.

“This is Keisha. I call it that because it was the original owners name.”

One of those who named their things, bless her heart. His mom had done that.

“When I bought it, I didn’t know the history, then I learned that it was full of love and hope.” The eyes shifted a little and whispered. “It tells me things.”

She saw the empty water bottle in his hand.

“I've got a cold beer, want one?”

Best idea he had heard in a while. She motioned to a folding chair behind the table. He twisted the bottle top and noticed the chartreuse bus parked behind the tent. Taking a long slug from the bottle, he said.

“Like the bus. I fucked the Ex on top of one.”

It took her a while to stop laughing.

“Oh, you're experienced. Besides being a fine looking young man, I knew there was something I liked about you.” She joined him in the next chair. “I've had her for a long time. It gives me a place to sleep when I'm on the roadshow circuit.”

A customer asked about a ring. Kari happily showed it off and closed the sale. She struck him as someone who could sell fire to the Devil. Maybe he should move on. But before he could get up, she was back.

“The separation was recent, huh?”

She would make a good Therapist. Glancing over the top of his bottle, he asked.

“It’s obvious?”

“I'm pretty good at reading people.” She'd her eyes twinkled. “I’ve been told I should a psychics telling fortunes for money. I couldn’t. I like honesty too much.”

“Kind of like me wanting to sleep in.” He snorted and drained the beer. “I love sleep. My life has a tendency to fall apart when I'm awake, you know.”

“You like Hemingway?”

He tossed the empty bottle in the can and grabbed another.

“Sure, who doesn't.”

“Tell me more about the Ex.”

“Not much to say. We’d met at a party and hit it off. The eyes drew me in, not quite blue and not quite green. Like a dog, she became my master. We traveled all over the west, even to Alaska.”

The old woman listened in silence as the confession continued.

“We were in Salt Lake City when she got pregnant. It was as good of place as any to settle, so we did. I got a job in an electronics plant, and she kept house. After a while, we joined the Mormons. It was a ‘when in Rome’ thing because of the neighbors. She ended up taking it seriously and made sure the boys went. A middle class lifestyle with a house, mortgage, more debt than we needed. Honestly, it seemed we were doing well.”

Kari interrupted, the dark eyes piercing his soul.

“John McElroy, did Sarah find greener pastures?”

John froze. He’d been caught. What now? The waterworks started to rise. Men aren’t supposed to cry. A voice said to trust. A weight fell off his shoulders. His voice was a detached whisper.

“Pretty much, and made it my fault she did.”

John more felt than heard the next words.

“And you're licking your wounds.”

“Yeah.”

He shuddered in the 80 degree heat as the tears fell. It was a full minute before could raise his head with a question.

“Are you an Angel?”

“Sort of.” The eyes turned kinder and she held out her arms. “Come here, Little One.”

It wasn’t an invitation, but a command for John to come out of hiding. He fell into the wrinkled arms, burying his head between the soft breasts. The amethyst was like a purring kitten, calming the turmoil in his mind. She lifted his face to eye level.

“You are a good man who followed what appeared to be a good path. Appearances can be deceiving, though. Even now, I can see doubt in your soul on where to go. You have been mistreated, lied to, and had all taken from you.”

She leaned in closer.

“John, I’m not an angel, just someone with the gift of transition. A dream spoke to me last week about a service needed. A man was hurting so deeply he could no longer live in this plane” She pointed to the necklace, “Keisha told me it was you.”

Fear and doubt filled his face as she continued.

“I help people whose time has come to cross with love.” The pools twinkled in delight. “I seal it with a kiss.”

His lips turned to fire as bitter almond filled the shaking body.

“Know this: Sarah, in her prideful sin, won't have this privilege.” The lullaby words echoed as spirit floated away and the shell stilled. With the care of an undertaker, Kari closed his eyes and set him back in his chair.

Grabbing another beer, she left to call 911.

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Topic-Rebecca Grusendorf

Pic-Dia Jade

Pic guesses- Palm tree (in blog) Paradise (in blog), honeymoon, love, mermaid, heart