(part 1 is here:
http://365project.org/summerfield/365-still/2014-06-30 )
(part 2 is here:
http://365project.org/summerfield/365-still/2014-07-06 )
(part 3 is here:
http://365project.org/summerfield/365-still/2014-07-13 )
When she comes to, Naomi is standing in front of the Greenwood subway station.
“The dragon’s in there, Naomi. It’s not just in your head, it’s real.”
Everything seems to spin and she shakes her head.
"You okay, lady?"
A homeless man sits on the pavement clutching a large garbage bag, smoking the butt of a cigarette he presently picks from the ground. She hands him the wine bottle. “Open this.”
The man smiles, he has only one tooth. “Sure! Must be my lucky day.”
He fishes out a wine bottle opener from his pocket, grabs the Barolo from her and hurriedly pulls the cork from the bottle. He smells the top of the bottle, his eyes closed, his head swaying as if listening to a beautiful music.
“Ahhhh. Vintage. You have good taste, lady.” He hands the bottle back to her and sucks on the cork like a baby.
Naomi stares at the bottle, smells the top and with shaking hands places the bottle to her lips. The sharp taste of alcohol assaults her palate and its aroma penetrates her nostrils. She feels like there are small needles poking her skull. The wine drips down the sides of her mouth and red stains spread down her tan winter coat.
The homeless man, now standing, grabs the bottle from her. “Well, you’re not very nice. Instead of you wasting it, you might want to give me some, you bitch.”
For a moment, they play tug of war with the wine bottle.
Then the homeless man turns into a dragon, his fiery eyes leering at Naomi.
"Mine!"
As his hand turns scaly and his fingers into glistening sharp talons, he roars with a deafening laughter that makes everything around her turn dark and as the dragon with one tooth roars and towers above her, she feels herself spinning into a dark void.
She staggers and takes two steps back, shakes her head once again to clear her vision then runs across the street to the station. Inside, the turnstiles won’t move. She frantically jerks it hard.
“Hey!” she hears a man’s voice. “Over here!” The collector taps his hand on the glass and motions for her to come to him. She does so. “You…gotta…pay…so…you…can…get…in,” he says emphasizing each syllable of his sentence.
Naomi reaches into her coat pocket and her hand produces a ticket. She drops it on the little box on the counter and walks slowly in, pushing the cold metal of the turnstile. She takes deliberate steps as she descends down the stairs and reaches the empty subway platform. Empty and cold and dark. She crosses her arms with one hand clasping her collars, her body pouring sweat and yet she feels cold, her hair damp with sweat and red wine, her knees limp like noodles.
Then... she hears it, like roaring thunder. The dragon. From the far end of the tunnel she sees light, faint at first, but as the sound approaches, the light intensifies blinding her momentarily. Finally, she sees the fiery eyes of the dragon as it enters the tunnel. She raises her hand, her palm facing her steely enemy.
“Stop!” she yells as she runs towards the oncoming train, screaming, crying, laughing.
“Yes, that’s right, Naomi. Kill the dragon and you will be free.”
“Damn you!” she screams.
Halfway through the platform, she leaps in front of the dragon. The bright lights blind her eyes. The dragon’s thick front legs close in on her. The train lets out a loud screech, metal on metal, the deafening sound blends with her screaming.
In her dying breath, Naomi sees the dragon, dead and unmoving. She laughs.
-o0o-
in memory of my friend bonnie april who, ten years ago, jumped in front of a train and ended her life.
i'm sorry if this ending depresses you, but there are some stories that don't end on a happy note.
My friends husband jumped in front of a train, so sad to think that whatever is going on in their head, they are within a place that they can not share with anyone. I think their loneliness, their isolation must be so overwhelming for them and so very disparate.
A brilliant read Vikki, a good way to interpret your friends demons, let us hope she has found piece now. Were you very angry with her for her actions?
@claireuk - no, i was not angry with her, i was angry at myself. when we were still in the same office, we would have lunch every now and then. when i left the office we still did although the frequency diminished. the last two years of her life, i would come across her at the mall and i would tell her i would call her and we would go have lunch. it never happened of course although i would telephone her once in a while. while i don't think meeting with her would've made a difference, one wouldn't really know, would it? she was a very giving person, but she probably never realized how much she had gotten back just because the awful or bad events in her life just overshadowed them. thank you, claire. next time i will try to write something lighter. :-)
@salza - thank you, sally. i do have some fun moments with my friend and yes, i do remember them to this day. the sad part was that that morning she jumped she just came back from picking up the key to her new apartment. she was going to start life anew and she was to start at a new job but it must've been daunting just to think about it.
@bill_fe - goodness, bill! i'm sorry about your brother. as i have told june above, the burden is on us now wondering if there was something we could've done to prevent it. it leaves us wondering. thank you, bill.
I sort of tagged you in my tags for today's main album photo.