Thursday, March 31, 2011
John called me at work… it was about Peter.
He’s really worried about Peter. He’s afraid that he’s going to do something reckless. Something he’s gonna regret. I think I’m a bit worried too. Peter’s always been hasty, and has always been a chaotic individual. He just doesn’t think things through. He’s an idiot.
I don’t know what we can do about it. I don’t think I can, or want, to do anything.
He’s not a kid anymore. He can take care of himself. I don’t need to interfere in his life.
He’ll be fine. He always is.
Arnold woke up. We’re sitting out on his porch. He’s smoking a cigarette. I’m sitting back and just listening to the sound of the neighborhood. The air is changing. Summer’s on the horizon.
I love the Summer. It’s always lovely. I can’t stand the cold.
I’m heading off to work now.
Another dream. This time I dreamt of the few miserable moments preceding the tragedy.
It was like any other boring drive. She was reading a magazine in the passenger seat while I drove us to the site. The site was far away from everything. We drove past pastures and farms and rotting fences towards our destination. Usually I’d think of the passing scenery as quite beautiful, but that afternoon, I could only feel a sort of stale sensation; a sort of disenchantment with it all.
I think my body knew beforehand, and was trying to warn me. On the way, a mysterious ache pounded inside of my head and my stomach felt a bit light and queasy. My eyes kept shifting out of focus, and I felt a bit hotter than usual. It was a Summer day, but my head felt like it was set up against a stove.
Despite the ache and the pain, I was content. My mind had no idea what was going to happen. It was only another mission to complete, after all. Why would I expect anything different?
Even while rolling up to the house, we noticed nothing. It was a two story cape cod house, in the middle of that field. It was rotting away and collapsing. The windows were all broken but not completely so, and the door was wide open, moving slowly adrift in the breeze.
That was our destination. We were sent there to simply destroy the house. That was it.
We weren’t going to burn it down, we were going to completely eradicate it from the face of the earth. That was it. In and out, right? That’s all it should have taken.
How could we know what was just lurking right behind that door?
As I opened the door in the dream, the dream ripped itself apart.
I was awake and I was covered in sweat. I decided I might as well get up.
I surfed the internet for a while, checked out a few blogs. Then I made myself some cereal.
Now I’m here and writing. I guess I’ll go sit out on the porch.
The sun’s about to rise.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Arnold and I worked hard through the night cleaning up his mess of a house. I haven’t slept… I don’t need to. I’m used to all-nighters. Arnold passed out on the couch, though.
We did a good job, I think. Everything seems nice and new. All we have to finish now is the living room and the attic, and then we’ll start packing up the remaining things he needs.
It was hard doing this. Seeing his pained expression while throwing away some of his shit… it was clear this was hurting him a lot. He’s spent most of his adult life here. And to throw away the objects associated with those memories... it’s not easy.
The attic is going to be harder to clear out. It contains so many memories for Arnold. And his family pictures are held up there….
Back in this goddamn office. It’s Hell in here.
This place is getting a lot busier lately. The Fears’ activity down here has been on a steady rise. It’s worrying. Why now, why here?
And there have been more sightings of her… that bitch.
She’s the one that caused my life to crash down. She’s the one to take away all of my happiness. She’s the only Fear to have ever come close to killing me.
She murdered my one and only; Holly.
The boss does not let me take any missions on that involve her or her puppets. He does not let me anywhere near her. When she is spotted in an area close to where I currently, agents rush to my side to back me up… and to also stop me.
Because I desire revenge. I want to kill her. No, no… let me rephrase that…
I want to destroy her.
I do not care if I am killed in the process, or if I do not accomplish my goal. That is not important to me. Do you think it would ever really matter to a man like me… a man who has lost his will to live?
One day, I swear, I will confront her. The boss won’t be able to stop me.
But until then, I have a duty as a Lonely Hearts agent to fulfill.
Arnold’s old house is a wreck.
There are cobwebs covering everything. Dust blankets the furniture and the floors. The kitchen had way too many old dishes in the sink to be healthy, and dirty clothes in piles were assorted into random locations. Arnold was not an orderly person by any stretch of the meaning.
I had to help him clean up first. It had to be done.
I found Arnold in the backyard. He was digging around in the backyard, searching for his soul. He told me he didn’t mean to. That his body moved by itself sometimes. I believed him. I helped him shovel the dirt back into the holes.
Arnold wanted to get better. While I was in South Carolina, I called him up, and we talked about things. I still can’t believe it, but I somehow managed to convince him that he needed help. He took me up on the offer to makes things better. I’m really proud of him for that.
He’s come so far in just a few days. He was putting more effort into his appearance. It was hard for him though. It was like he had to be chaotic and disorderly compulsively. No matter what he did, there was always something off about his appearance. From an untied shoe to ripped jeans.
But this time he looked fine. Except for a bit of food stuck to the corner of his mouth. I pointed it out though and he wiped it off. He looked fine .
We dusted the dirt off from shoveling those holes and went inside. We were a bit hungry so we walked to McDonalds and I bought him something to eat. Went back and ate at the house.
I decided that the kitchen should be our first priority to clean out. So I stayed up with him til midnight doing that. Took a lot of hard work… and by then, we were only about halfway done.
I left around three in the morning. I’ve been awake since. Watching some television.
I know I rip on Peter for doing stuff like… what I’m doing now. And I still think I’m right.
But I feel really good about this now. It makes me feel good.