The Edge of Always

I don’t want to talk about me right now, but I guess I better answer her, since she’s brought it up twice.

I bring my knees up, too, and prop my forearms on top them. “Well, aside from the cliched rock-star dream everybody has, I wanted to be an architect.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” I say with a nod.

“Is that what you were studying in college before you dropped out?”

I shake my head. “No,” I say and laugh lightly at the absurdity of my answer. “I was in college for accounting and business.”

Camryn’s eyebrows draw inward. “Accounting? Are you serious?” She’s almost laughing.

“I know, right?” I say, laughing it off myself. “Aiden offered me part ownership of his bar. Back then I just had dollar signs in my eyes, and I thought that owning a bar would be an awesome opportunity. I could play my music there and… I don’t know what I was thinking, but I jumped at my brother’s offer. Then he started talking about how I’d need to understand the business aspects of it and all that shit. I enrolled in college, and that was pretty much where the idea ended. I didn’t give a shit about accounting, or running a bar or having to deal with all of the negative that comes with owning a business.” I pause for a moment and then say, “I guess, like you said, I was delusional, wanted all the positives but none of the negatives. When I realized it didn’t work that way, I said fuck it.”

She lifts to sit upright with me. “So, then why didn’t you pursue the architect thing?”

I smirk. “Probably for the same reason you didn’t pursue the astrophysicist thing.”

She just smiles, having no real rebuttal to that one.

I gaze beyond Camryn’s blonde hair and out at the field. “I guess we’re just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl,” I say.

Her eyes narrow. “I’ve heard that somewhere before.”

I smile and point at her briefly. “Pink Floyd. But it’s the truth.”

“You think we’re lost?”

I tilt my head back a little and look up at the stars behind her and say, “In society, maybe. But together, no. I think we’re right where we need to be.”

Neither of us say anything more for quite some time.

We lie back down next to each other and do what we came out here to do. As I gaze up at the infinite blackness of that sky, I’m in complete awe of the moment. I think I find some of myself up in those stars. For a long time I forget about music, being on the road, about the tumor that almost killed me last year, and the moment of weakness that almost killed Camryn’s spirit. I forget about losing Lily, and about the fact that I know Camryn stopped taking her birth control pills and didn’t tell me. And I forget about the fact that I stopped pulling out for a reason and didn’t tell her.

I really do forget about everything. Because that’s what a moment like this does to you. It makes you feel like something so small inside of something so massive that it’s beyond comprehension. It strips away all of your problems, all of your hardships, all of your worldly needs and wants and desires, forcing you to realize just how insignificant all of it really is. It’s like the Earth becomes completely silent and still, and all that your mind can understand or feel is the vastness of the Universe and you gasp thinking about your place within it.

Who needs psychiatrists? Who needs grief counselors and life coaches and motivational speakers? Fuck all that. Just stare at the night sky and let yourself get lost in it every now and then.

* * *

Something unpleasant wakes me the next morning. I sniff the air with my eyes still closed, my mind not fully awake but my body and sense of smell working ahead of me. There’s a mild chill in the air and my skin feels moist, as if covered by early morning dew. Rolling over onto my other side, I sniff the air again and it’s even fouler than before. I hear something rustling nearby, and finally my eyes open a slit. Camryn’s passed out next to me. I can just barely see her blonde braid lying on the blanket in between us. She seems to be curled in the fetal position.

What is that smell?!

I cover my mouth with my hand and start to raise myself from the blanket. Camryn begins to move at the same time, rolling over onto her back and rubbing her face and eyes with both hands. She yawns. As I sit upright and open my eyes the rest of the way, Camryn asks, “What the hell is that smell?” and her face contorts.

I’m just about to say that it’s probably her breath when her blue eyes grow scary-wide as she looks behind me.

Instinctively, I turn around fast.

A herd of cows stand just feet from us, and when they sense us moving around, they spook.

“Oh my God!” Camryn jumps up faster than she did that night the snake slithered over our blanket, causing me to do the same.

Two cows moo and moan and grunt, backing into the other cows behind them, stirring the herd that much more.

“I think we better get outta here,” I say, grabbing her hand and running with her.

We don’t wait long enough to stop and grab the blanket at first, but I stop and double back seconds later to snatch it up. Camryn shrieks and I start laughing as we dash away from the cows and toward the car.

“Awww, shiiiit!” I yell when I step in a huge pile of it.

Camryn cackles with laughter, and we both practically stumble the rest of the way through the field, me trying to scrape the shit off the bottom of my shoe while running at the same time, and Camryn’s flip-flops getting caught on the ground as they try to keep up with her feet.

“I can’t believe that just happened!” Camryn laughs, as we finally make it back to the car. She arches her body forward and props her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath.

I’m out of breath, too, but I still relentlessly scrape the bottom of my shoe on the asphalt. “Dammit!” I say, rubbing my foot back and forth.

Camryn jumps up on the hood of the car, letting her legs hang over the front. “Now can we say that we did it?” she asks with laughter in her voice.

I stand still and catch my breath. I look at her, at how beautiful and bright that smile of hers is, and say, “Yeah, I think we can safely mark it off our list.”

“Good!” she says. Then she points behind me. “Do it on the grass,” she says with one side of her mouth pinched into a hard line. “You’re just spreading it around doing it like that.”

I hop over into the grass and start rubbing my foot back and forth again. “Since when did you become an expert on shit?”

“Better watch your mouth,” she warns, getting into the driver’s seat.

“What are you going to do?” I taunt her.

She starts the Chevelle and revs the engine a few times. There’s a cruel gleam in her eyes. She props her left arm across the top of the open window and next thing I know she’s driving slowly past me.

I give her the warning eye, but her grin just gets bigger.

“I know you won’t leave me here!” I shout as she goes past me.

Surely she wouldn’t…

She gets farther away and at first I call her bluff and just stand here, watching her get smaller and smaller…

Finally, I take off running after the car.

29

The first thing that comes to mind when we make it to New Orleans is home sweet home. I get a rush when the sights become familiar: the great oak trees and beautiful historic homes, Lake Pontchartrain and the Superdome, the red and yellow streetcars that always reminded me of toys.