| Biographical Non-Fiction posted November 29, 2023 | Chapters: |
...11 12 -13- 14... 
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  |
The shifting pull of life can change on a dime
A chapter in the book Spectre
The Bump
by Lea Tonin1
The author has placed a warning on this post for language.
Behold the sea of swimming birds
Slap the sky with feathered fins
Seek the flowers with pistolin swords
Sweep the air with created pollen
Thin blades of green darts a thousand fold
Sent to breeze by man's device.
Waltzing trees the lumbers sway
Competing scents of natures desire
The rush and flow the rivers pull
Lay the seeds for flowing life
Silver quick the avian flight
Dances on sandy bottoms grip
Skim the view the moons pale eye
And slip...into the arms of peace.
***********************************present**
Expressing the beauty I see in all living and natural things around me always inspires me to set it to verse. This is my anchor to peace that keeps me on my feet. What steady's my soul.
Driving out of the valley and into the mountains, I will stop at this one particular rest spot every time.
From this rest area, I can look down below to the vast valley and can see the thick gray smog covering it from shore to mountain base. I get the feeling of pulling myself out of thick pea soup which attempts to suck me down with a "quick sand like" grip. Looking down upon it, I think,
"I have escaped once again."
Today I have this fidgety feeling. A sort of nervous jump in my tummy. Like waiting for the school principal to walk in when caught skipping out.
This is what's inside right now. I'm sensitive to what comes and what's around. I know it's there but, not always what the "it" is. Some people might call a sensitive person as someone with an extra or a sixth sense or other may call psychic. Well, except for the ones that generally think we're nuts.
I just call it the voice inside of us. The one that warns us of danger. The one that says stuff's happening.
I pay attention to that voice. As a child and more later in life, it has never steered me wrong.
Extra ability is usually a genetic predisposition to be sensative, exacerbated by extreme trauma which, in turn, creates hypervigilance. The genetic element is usually inherited through the females of the family of which I am the third generation. Combine that with hard experience and you have ability. Those two when factored together, combined, the sensitivity becomes very strong.
I wish I paid more attention to it in my younger years.
The holiday season fast approaches. This time of year can be hard. Because I spend it alone, I have for a long time. My sons live far away, it's difficult for them to come and now they won't at all. Effectively breaking my heart. I fear seeing them again is just a pipe dream.
I have, however, have been given a gift. One I've have never received, ever.
It's the gift of belief which will last for a thousand Christmas's to come.
Thank you everyone....bless your hearts.
*****************************Past
For the next few days, I concentrated mainly on looking for work.
I wrote my fingers raw filling out application after application.
I think the problem lay in the area where experience was listed. It was the fact that I didn't have any. A setback that needed to be remedied.
My nightmares have returned with a vengeance robbing much needed rest. I woke with a gasp, just before the fist hits my face.
I kept trying just the same to stay focused and continue to look for work, hoping to gain that all important experience. After all, how do get experience if no one will hire you!
Other than dreams, my week went by blessedly free of drama until...
CRASH!!! That sound ran rough shod through my mind, made me think for a split second that I was back at home again.
I could hear furniture and glass breaking. It was coming from upstairs.
I could hear Mr. D's voice rise and fall in rapid fire succession while his wife kept hers low, measured and even. I listened for sounds of distress from Mrs. D in case intervention was required.
I switch to instant alert when sounds like what was coming from upstairs assault my senses and ears.
I listened intently until the noise quieted down again. This I did for the remainder of the night knowing full well the danger of severe escalation.
In the morning Mrs. D came down the stairs and looked at me with a concerned expression.
"Joo hear?" She asked.
I nodded.
"My husband is upset about de bills. He does not think be can afford guest."
I felt instantly guilty. "I'm so sorry I haven't more to give you." I said, "I'm looking hard for work. When I get a job, I will hand over the first pay to you."
"Not your fault, I ask you here." She responded. "Maybe meal time I bring to you down food. He not see you so much...calm him down."
"I can go. I'm so sorry, I never meant to cause you trouble."
"Joo wait, husband get money soon, he will be smiles." He is...how you say..."
"Cheap?" I clapped my hands over my mouth horrified I said that and looked over at her.
She laughed,"Jess cheap." Laughing some more. Okay you stay, talk later." She chuckled on her way up the stairs. "Cheap...haha."
***
By the end of the week, I started thinking more about the guy I crashed into at McDonalds.
"A teenage place...maybe it is fun and not like the other clubs." I thought.
I so needed conversation with someone my age. A short amount of time to blow off steam. Take my mind off of serious matters. Just do something strange and unusual like have fun.
Another day went by and I finally screwed up the courage to phone. I dialed the number which immediately rang.
I almost dropped the phone back in its cradle when a woman's voice answered. I asked for B.
"Yes," she said. "Just one moment."
"Hello?" B answered."Ah...hi. We met last week at McDonalds?"
"Ya the collidee and I'm the collider." He chuckled. "How're ya doin'?"
"Ok thanks, you?" I replied.
"Good. You change your mind about Bumpers?" He asked.
"Ya, I was just wondering if..."
"If I was going?" He finished for me. "Say no more. Where you at, I'll pick you up."
I gave him the address.
"Cool we can do the bump and the hustle." He said.
"What?" I said.
"Forget it, we'll play air hockey." He responded. "See you 'round 8." "Ok...see you later," and I hung up.
"Well," I thought. "Can't walk down the road unless you use your feet."
In the shower I dared to hope, "Maybe, things will get better."
"Maybe...."
*****************************present
Yes, this chapter is a little easier to write than most. Because it was a time when I had some hope. This too was another foreign feeling to me. I began to daydream about the future.
Day dreams are nice and every once in a while, they come true. But most of them, sadly, do not.
Young people's dreams can turn into an older persons nightmare. So keep listening, keep feeling, keep tasting the air for that ever present danger to rear its ugly head.
Prepare to bump some baddies. They're always out there.
Behold the sea of swimming birds
Slap the sky with feathered fins
Seek the flowers with pistolin swords
Sweep the air with created pollen
Thin blades of green darts a thousand fold
Sent to breeze by man's device.
Waltzing trees the lumbers sway
Competing scents of natures desire
The rush and flow the rivers pull
Lay the seeds for flowing life
Silver quick the avian flight
Dances on sandy bottoms grip
Skim the view the moons pale eye
And slip...into the arms of peace.
***********************************present**
Expressing the beauty I see in all living and natural things around me always inspires me to set it to verse. This is my anchor to peace that keeps me on my feet. What steady's my soul.
Driving out of the valley and into the mountains, I will stop at this one particular rest spot every time.
From this rest area, I can look down below to the vast valley and can see the thick gray smog covering it from shore to mountain base. I get the feeling of pulling myself out of thick pea soup which attempts to suck me down with a "quick sand like" grip. Looking down upon it, I think,
"I have escaped once again."
Today I have this fidgety feeling. A sort of nervous jump in my tummy. Like waiting for the school principal to walk in when caught skipping out.
This is what's inside right now. I'm sensitive to what comes and what's around. I know it's there but, not always what the "it" is. Some people might call a sensitive person as someone with an extra or a sixth sense or other may call psychic. Well, except for the ones that generally think we're nuts.
I just call it the voice inside of us. The one that warns us of danger. The one that says stuff's happening.
I pay attention to that voice. As a child and more later in life, it has never steered me wrong.
Extra ability is usually a genetic predisposition to be sensative, exacerbated by extreme trauma which, in turn, creates hypervigilance. The genetic element is usually inherited through the females of the family of which I am the third generation. Combine that with hard experience and you have ability. Those two when factored together, combined, the sensitivity becomes very strong.
I wish I paid more attention to it in my younger years.
The holiday season fast approaches. This time of year can be hard. Because I spend it alone, I have for a long time. My sons live far away, it's difficult for them to come and now they won't at all. Effectively breaking my heart. I fear seeing them again is just a pipe dream.
I have, however, have been given a gift. One I've have never received, ever.
It's the gift of belief which will last for a thousand Christmas's to come.
Thank you everyone....bless your hearts.
*****************************Past
For the next few days, I concentrated mainly on looking for work.
I wrote my fingers raw filling out application after application.
I think the problem lay in the area where experience was listed. It was the fact that I didn't have any. A setback that needed to be remedied.
My nightmares have returned with a vengeance robbing much needed rest. I woke with a gasp, just before the fist hits my face.
I kept trying just the same to stay focused and continue to look for work, hoping to gain that all important experience. After all, how do get experience if no one will hire you!
Other than dreams, my week went by blessedly free of drama until...
CRASH!!! That sound ran rough shod through my mind, made me think for a split second that I was back at home again.
I could hear furniture and glass breaking. It was coming from upstairs.
I could hear Mr. D's voice rise and fall in rapid fire succession while his wife kept hers low, measured and even. I listened for sounds of distress from Mrs. D in case intervention was required.
I switch to instant alert when sounds like what was coming from upstairs assault my senses and ears.
I listened intently until the noise quieted down again. This I did for the remainder of the night knowing full well the danger of severe escalation.
In the morning Mrs. D came down the stairs and looked at me with a concerned expression.
"Joo hear?" She asked.
I nodded.
"My husband is upset about de bills. He does not think be can afford guest."
I felt instantly guilty. "I'm so sorry I haven't more to give you." I said, "I'm looking hard for work. When I get a job, I will hand over the first pay to you."
"Not your fault, I ask you here." She responded. "Maybe meal time I bring to you down food. He not see you so much...calm him down."
"I can go. I'm so sorry, I never meant to cause you trouble."
"Joo wait, husband get money soon, he will be smiles." He is...how you say..."
"Cheap?" I clapped my hands over my mouth horrified I said that and looked over at her.
She laughed,"Jess cheap." Laughing some more. Okay you stay, talk later." She chuckled on her way up the stairs. "Cheap...haha."
***
By the end of the week, I started thinking more about the guy I crashed into at McDonalds.
"A teenage place...maybe it is fun and not like the other clubs." I thought.
I so needed conversation with someone my age. A short amount of time to blow off steam. Take my mind off of serious matters. Just do something strange and unusual like have fun.
Another day went by and I finally screwed up the courage to phone. I dialed the number which immediately rang.
I almost dropped the phone back in its cradle when a woman's voice answered. I asked for B.
"Yes," she said. "Just one moment."
"Hello?" B answered."Ah...hi. We met last week at McDonalds?"
"Ya the collidee and I'm the collider." He chuckled. "How're ya doin'?"
"Ok thanks, you?" I replied.
"Good. You change your mind about Bumpers?" He asked.
"Ya, I was just wondering if..."
"If I was going?" He finished for me. "Say no more. Where you at, I'll pick you up."
I gave him the address.
"Cool we can do the bump and the hustle." He said.
"What?" I said.
"Forget it, we'll play air hockey." He responded. "See you 'round 8." "Ok...see you later," and I hung up.
"Well," I thought. "Can't walk down the road unless you use your feet."
In the shower I dared to hope, "Maybe, things will get better."
"Maybe...."
*****************************present
Yes, this chapter is a little easier to write than most. Because it was a time when I had some hope. This too was another foreign feeling to me. I began to daydream about the future.
Day dreams are nice and every once in a while, they come true. But most of them, sadly, do not.
Young people's dreams can turn into an older persons nightmare. So keep listening, keep feeling, keep tasting the air for that ever present danger to rear its ugly head.
Prepare to bump some baddies. They're always out there.
This story is part of an autobio called specter. It's part of a 3 part series and this is number 2 number 1 can be found. In my portfolio along with this it's called ghost. Feel free to read. A word of caution. Some chapters are hard to digest. Reader discretion is advised.
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