A passage from Chapter 3 of my second book, to be finished this year called,
"This is it."
Enjoy!
3
"777, huh," he said aloud to himself as he walked
up to the bus stop, "the bus should be the quickest way to the
docks." He got on and quickly sat in the first open seat he saw, the
vehicle was fairly crowded, and he didn't venture for eye contact among the sea
of empty faces. "Only 5 stops, not too bad," Shanyn thought. He found
the closest open window to look out of and gazed towards it. As his gaze began
to glaze over, he felt himself zone out.
Suddenly his attention narrowed to a sharp vortex as he heard the voice. It was
coming from behind him in the next row, her, the weird old lady from the
previous evening. But what really peaked his attention as they continued
conversing behind him, was what they were saying. He felt like he was in the
twilight zone, she was talking about being in this oneness, like she referred to
with Shanyn just the night before. He listened, it seemed interesting to him.
"It
permeates all things everywhere," she spoke enthusiastically, kind of odd
for those around her, noticeable by their expressions, as they glared at her
judgmentally. As if completely unaware of her ignorant onlookers, she spoke
with quiet confidence, "There is no place that it is not, for you see, it
is everything, but even though it is everything, it is also nothing."
"Lady, I don't know where you escaped from, but I hope they find you
soon," the sharp attack, viciously ignorant, flew from the mouth of the
overly-self-assured-wanna-be-gangster seated across from her. Shanyn wondered
what she would say as he tried to figure out what she was saying to begin with.
"They can find me any where; all they have to do is open their eyes, just
like you, my young friend. Anything you search for is right here in front of
you. Are you sure you can't see it?" she questioned the thug with such
solemn patience, totally void of frustration, or anger. Her voice still filled
with a joy that Shanyn just didn't get. It was so alien to him; he just sat
there, intently listening.
"All I can see lady, is that you are full of shit," with that he
jumped up, stared her down for a moment, as if to intimidate the harmless
elderly woman, then quickly threw his shoulders forward to try to make her
flinch. She didn't even blink, her eyes transfixed on him with perfect
understanding. Complete and total peace emanated from the mysterious mistress
as she acknowledged her confronter. The young black teenager stood up straight,
confused at what was occurring right before his very eyes. The people on the
bus all looked on now, yet with an odd sense of detachment, as if they were
watching television. Shanyn kept vigilant, knowing he would try to step in if
the boy became physical.
Then
the young gangster-in-training reacted in a most peculiar way. His maliciously
intent stare slowly faded. His face went placid and he seemed genuinely at
peace for a moment. It was almost as if she had spread whatever it was she was
immersed in with him, because it was apparently working. He smiled at her in a
way that suggested sincere gratitude, as if she had released all of his inner
pain or something. As always, in typical New
York tradition, no one around them noticed a thing.
Everyone except Shanyn didn't, anyway. He wondered if she just perpetually
perused the city, freeing random souls with open-ended ideas and bliss inducing
stares.
The boy sat down and gave the grandmotherly person his full, undivided
attention. She softly cleared her throat and began, "The best part of this
Oneness is that it will never run out, being everything and all. It is pure
peace to know there is no end and that everything you think you know is an
illusion; just endless cycles, form to form from form to form from form to
form, etc. etcetera, ad infinitum. If we can close our mind enough, the
conscious "cluttered" collection of thoughts we call a mind, then it
will all be revealed in one eternal peace to this piece of our relativized
reality so just be it now, there is nothing else to know..."
Shanyn felt the words echo through his quieted mind, feeling at ease and vulnerable
towards her. It frightened yet intrigued him as he sat there listening to the
illumined rant as she went on and on. He swore he could feel the peace just
emanate from her in waves of pulsing energy. He looked up when the bus stopped
again, as if he had just stepped back into reality. "Shit, it
figures," he torted to himself as he noticed that the bus was already one
stop past where he wanted to be. With that realization, he snapped back to full
consciousness and leaped towards the bus doors. "At least it's only four
blocks, it could have been far worse."\
As he
looked down the road he could see the docks in the distance. He glanced down at his watch and saw that it
was 1:17. Quickening his pace over a
couple steps he wondered what the place would look like. Was it a shady, dark place, cold and
damp? Or is it a clean and warm set up
almost seeming too nice to be a warehouse?
He visualized the two scenarios as he came up to the last block
now. He could see it clearly now, the
large 777, high up on the corner of the building. High
walls made the sevens look almost menacing on the side of the warehouse. The place’s height created a shadowed area to
the left of the doors.
He walked up the steps quickly, two
at a time and reached to open the door.
It was locked. He knocked, and it
echoed faintly in the distance. The
smells of rotting fish and putrid sea air lit up his nostrils in a deep breath. “Nothing like the East
River,” he thought as he waited patiently. The darkness of the alley created an odd
effect for Shanyn as he glanced up to see blue skies and fluffy white clouds
meandering overhead gently through the air.
“Kreeeeeeeee! Boom!” the door assaulted his ears as it
slowly opened. “Who are you?” spouted an
abrupt, raspy deep voice as a man emerged from the shadowy interior. The distinct voice revealed him as the man
from the telephone. An almost monstrous
mountain of a person, he stood just under the top of the doorway and peered
down at Shanyn with eyes that seemed weathered beyond their years.
“I called about the job,” Shanyn said with a smile on his
face, trying to hide the serious uneasiness the man’s daunting figure posed to
his smaller stature. “I’m here to speak
to the supervisor; I think I spoke to you on the phone. The name’s Shanyn,” and he reached out his
hand to try to break the tension he sensed was growing.
The man looked at his hand coldly, then said, “Follow
me.” With that he pushed the doors open further,
turned around and went back down the steps he had just come up. As he ventured after him through the doorway
the room opened up like a cathedral. The
warehouse walls just rose up and up to the smaller rectangular windows near the
roof. Sunlight poured through the
windows projecting down onto what looked like a small area of offices with the
more formal, dirty, smelly, warehouse out in the distance. The clanking his escort made as he walked
down the metal steps was the only sound audible beyond the industrial sized
fans droning on far overhead. An odd
aroma of gasoline coupled with what can only be described as plastic melting
made his stomach turn over and cringe, leaving him slightly light headed as he
descended into the place.
Expect more snippets over the course of the year, I am 150 pages into the book, so we are almost to completion!
Just be.
My first book: The Art of Falling
My websites:
My YouTube channel:
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UClxve29mvUghOIwrQrWb-Ew
