I know that sound, I’ve been here … or maybe did this before before, déjà vu? There it is again, what a distinct noise, but from when or where? Aghhh, yes, that’s it. It’s the sound our chairs made as you pulled one out from under the table. How peculiar, an exact sound made when whatever type of wood used in the chairs scraped against whatever type of wood used in the flooring. Maybe the age of the flooring makes a difference, and therefore maybe the age of the chairs too. I hated that sound, didn’t I buy little pads to put on the bottoms of the chair legs to prevent it? I did, well I think I did … maybe I was going to but never checked it off the To Do list … can’t remember. Well how about you just look now. There’s my hand, I see it pulling on the back of the chair … and there’s that awful sound … I’m back in the old apartment, our apartment. Is she here? Look around. Find her.
I’m scanning the place, from memory, right? Or maybe I’m recalling an actual memory, shit. Wasn’t I supposed to look for something? What am I doing back here? Oh yes the chairs, the sound, I heard it. Is she here, in this … whatever this is? Jess, honey? A memory perhaps, I can’t tell. I’m being asked a question now, yes, I am. I see her mouth moving but all I hear is a mumbled voice, like the teacher in Charlie Brown. Smile you idiot, she’s waiting on your reply. “Sorry, sorry … I wassss somewhere else. Yes I’ve visited Balboa Park before. Totally, I loved it too. I can still feel the the tickle of cool grass between my toes. I’m down, that would be fun. We need to organize an outing, yes absolutely. You do all the work and I’ll show up. Ha!” smile, good. “Perfect. Deal.” Smile again, listen, throw in a few nods for good measure.
Now where was I? Oh yeah, that fucking chair noise. As if on cue there it is again, God what I’d give to hear it back at our apartment. Maybe I can, maybe I am? Wait, don’t you think it’s odd you’re able to hear that particular sound over all the rest of this sonorous clutter? This restaurant is bustling, food/wine is good, conversation is meh but a screeching chair wisps you back in time, or was it into another fantasy? Maybe it doesn’t matter. Aghhh shit another question, maybe she knows I’m visiting other realms. Either way you’re not being attentive, jerk. “It’s something I’ve always been meaning to do butttt, well I guess it just hasn’t been a priority. Like um, like trapezing, is it trapezing, is that correct? I thought so. So like trapezing orrrr what else is there, or like horseback riding, but out here. In the mountains. These are things I would do, they’re things I want to do, butt I just haven’t committed to, well doing them. I know, you’re right, I should.”
Perrrrfect, back on track, now she’s content ranting about kitesurfing. Oh that was cute, she disrupted her bf’s conversation to confirm the joy of kitesurfing. She coulda asked him about whale fucking and that confused grin would have appeased her just the same. I miss that. Are you kidding me? That chair again, I’m back in the apartment. Wait. Wait. STOP. That laugh, I swear that was her laugh. Should I stand up and scan the restaurant? And what pray tell would you be searching for Sherlock? You gonna find Jess? Maybe some gal who looks a little bit like her? Maybe a cute brunette with a sliver of her, well anything would do, or mayyyybe a similar personal trait, like her eyebrows. Shit, I miss the alluring curve of her brows. So yeah, probably gonna happen innnnn addition to sharing the exact same laugh, sure why not, maybe her name’s Jessica too ya twat.
Ok fine, scan the restaurant, look for someone who loooooks like they might make a laugh like that, cuz ya know, that’s a thing. Casually sit up straighter, you should be sitting straighter anyway, always hunching. Now go ahead and scan away, maybe you’ll hear the laugh again. It was loud enough, obnoxious enough. Most people will glance at the source anyway. C'mon lady, laugh for me. Should I run to the restroom so I can get a better look? Again, you idiot, and look for what exactly? God I miss that laugh. Back in the apartment. I can hear her laugh, or can I? Am I merely imagining hearing it, because I’m not actualllllly hearing it, I must be recalling it. Or maybe I’m reproducing it in my mind, the way I think it used to sound or should sound. Yeah that makes sense, I’m probably doing that. Smile and nod, yeahhhhh kitesurfing is fun, weeee. “Excuse me, I’m gonna run to the bathroom. Right over there? Thanks.” Let me just scan the room here real quick … why am I monologuing this statement in such a high pitchhhh? “Yeah I know it’s the other way, I just thought I saw, or heard somebody I knew, know.” Smile again, scan and smile. Nothing, shit. Time’s up, heading to the bathroom.
God her laugh was just so damn unique, and so loud, like booming loud. “Pardon me, oops. Is this the line? Agh lucky me, no wait for the men’s.” Smile. Her laugh, it’s been echoing in my mind ever since I first heard it, like a Siren’s beckon. Call for her again, maybe she’s upstairs. Jess? Are you up there baby? Nothing. Should I walk up, this is your memory, or fantasy … right? Do what you want. Man it’s so vivid, I can easily recall every minor, little detail, even that persistent fucking notch in the railing, the one jabbing my palm with a fresh sliver every other day. Didn’t I sand that down? I did, I’m just recalling it pre-sanding, curious. Snap, snap, snap, over here twinkle dumb. Oh yeah. Jess? Honey? Are you up here? What was that, a wind chime? In the bathroom of the restaurant? Can’t be in the memory or I mean, fantasy, whatever, right? Hmmmmm … a breeze?? What. Thefuck. Ohhh yeahhh, you’re meditating. Holy shit, some inception style shit going on right here. I love that sound too, the wind chime, not as much as her laugh, as nothing compares. That’s right, you’re in the hammock innnnn Costa Rica? Nope, Cali. Having fun with your meditation I see. Now I’m back, swaying side to side … awareness, silence. Well pockets of inner silence anyway, the wind chime and breeze continue chiming and breezing. Man how we loved our wind chime dangling from the apartment balcony, brings me right back. Such peace, breatheeeee. Release. All. Thought.
But, but I enjoy the fantasy … well I guess in this case the fantasy within the fantasy. So real, so … comforting? I’m here, wherever here is, the hammock, Cali, wind chime, yeah. Well I’m here, but … I’m not. I’m actually within a dream, a daydream, a fantasy. And within that fantasy I hear sounds, triggers, which bring me back to past memories, well memories in which I can kinda embellish I guess? I’m much more handsome in my memories ha! Idiot. I can act differently though, alter the memory. Weird, so much … freedom I guess. I don’t feeeeeel like I’m here, here in the hammock, I feel like I could be any of the places I’ve meditated, or even places I haven’t. Is here where my body currently resides, or my mind? And within my mind is it the physical location in which my conscious dwells at the moment or the place in which it’s focused? Because if the latter is the case, I’m anywhere and I guess, anytime I want to be. I’m basically space/time traveling? Oooookay relax Stephen Hawking, you can barely grasp all that nerdy shit in those space shows, don’t go theorizing on quantum physics just yet. But where am I? Seriously. I feel just as … well, real in those fantasies as I do while rocking in this fabric webbing. And those sounds, sounds in a fantasy which trigger a memory, which then trigger … wait for ittttt, yet another fantasy, but based off a memory. Weeeeee, delusionnnnn … it’s so funnnnn … yayyyyyy. Nooo, you’re not deluded, just having a bit of fun traveling back to past experiences except in your evolved state. Yeah, that’s the ticket. But these sounds, these reminders and signs, they’re … they’re her, it’s Jess. She’s traveling too, not like physically traveling but still traveling. Or she’s already there, here, everywhere. She’s able to remind me of her, of us, in endless ways. Dreaming of past memories, in a fantasy, but with current awareness. Cool. Oh wait, yet another chapter unfolds … write this down you say? So let’s see, a story, a written story, based on a true experience, the meditation on the hammock, then, the fantasy. In a restaurant, with a few people at least, the chick, her dude and his fellow conversationalist, maybe five of us. Then I “hear” a sound which brings me back to a memory. As I enter this memory, I’m able to act differently than I previously did in said memory, so now it becomes fantasy. But I felt aware, awake, as if she was communicating with me, somehow, using these sounds which then triggered memories of, well her. Just as I’m able to “travel”, well I guess, so is she.
Where is Jess? When is Jess? Or maybe what is she? She’s transcended into something more I guess. I’m pleased to introduce to you to my life/time/space traveling wife, Jessica. Yes she’s very talented, and just darling isn’t she? Wind chime on cue, yes … breathe … peace … tranquility … serenity. “Sorry, there was a line at the bathroom, what did I miss?”
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