As the winter drones and continues in a never ending blanket of bitter cold and anguish there eventually comes a hint of new air yet to be. Finally a light at the end of the tunnel beckoning one to pick themselves up at the mere thought of better days to come, days no longer spent among the lifeless. The light distant and unfocused as it may be is all that it takes to re ignite the fire that slowly kindles in the cavernous depths of even the most reserved souls. Our once lost forgotten hero is beginning to wake from his deep winter slumber that has laid rest to his soul.
The wind knifes carelessly and without discretion. It’s there, tolerable at first and then without warning it makes a grown man regress into childlike form willing to do anything just to make it stop. This is not some mild gale one can merely brush off. It’s an accumulation of snow, cold, and wet freezing sleet that pierces from every direction imaginable. The idea of clothes as protection is laughable really. This mockery makes quick business of his poorly fastened flint. Even as that smell of refreshing tar cuts across his nostrils and his nerves take a needed breath he can’t help but share an evil grin with the cold in its attempts to dictate his existence.
No one is quite sure why he did it. He was born into one of the most beautiful summers. Free of anguish and set proper on a path of relatively small resistance. Foolish and unwise were the lightest of insults slapped on him. They could not fathom why any person of even mild capacity would choose to take themselves into a realm of utter rejection. Subsequently burning bridges, disappointing loved ones and turning his back against those who had extended acceptance. In his mind these bridges never seemed to really exist, those who loved him had created false expectations and even though others had accepted him he never felt like he was at home. Unsure of where exactly he was going, what he would find or who he would meet he set off to find his own meaning in a chaotic world.
Now it didn’t take long for the facade of the falsified relationships to dissipate and show their ugly face. From down there he has seen them in their true form. Lying, cheating, plastic fake creatures with a poignant stench of sewer excretion oozing from every known orifice out of their prefabricated existence. With that in mind it’s no surprise his interest in ever returning was immediately vaporized by even the thought of roaming amongst them once again.
Their acceptance of him really was of no concern. Society is a selfish bastard. If they see something in you they want to milk it until you end up washed out and dry, nothing more than a lame useless pack animal. Wondering what exactly you amounted to or what it was all worth. Essentially it was their own selfish wants that drove him into the nothingness. He was nobody’s errand boy and would rather drift into the lifeless unknown than cater to their self depreciating construct.
The unforgiving desert holds many stories of men so depleted from fundamental bodily needs they become mindless delusional wrecks. The desert gold has a way of turning into fresh streaming water. A calling of hope that plays a dirty game of causing the hopeful to spend their remaining power on the ideal that they just might be lucky. Unlike the stories of the sunken desert wanderers he knows the frozen terrain offers no such luxuries. There is no oasis of warmth on the horizon. At most the only comfort provided is that he no longer is subject to the land of the living. Subject to their approval or expectations.
As a child there are the rare and unexplained oddities that certainly must happen to everyone who is going through a stage of wonder and growth. One unknown in particular was a sudden whisper from what felt like the voice of an angel. With no one around to confirm her presence the voice originated from the depths of his mind. A whisper, you might think would be soft and something subtle. Only in her tone did it come across as even remotely soft. Walking from the schoolyard back to his home, alone and from no where would come the thundering boom of this woman’s voice.
“Come clooserrrrr…” she murmured and then disappeared never to be heard from again. However, that voice had scarred him for life. Constantly and painfully aware that at any given moment she might once again appear in consumption of his thoughts.
His grin had more or less turned into a frown much to the delight of the cold. It was beginning to get to him and his nerves slowly becoming unable to cope. The wind decided to lay flat for a moment or two and as it picked up speed, striking against his back once again he hears what seems like a far cry. Muffled across the sleet he hears something that reminded him of a forgotten someone.
“Come closerrrrr…” she cried and unlike the days gone by as the master of his icy domain he brought forth the courage to call back. He turned to face the wind. Standing unaltered he took the deepest breath he could muster and screamed out: “What do you want from meeeee?!” After a few moments of no response, like the voice of the wind itself an icy breeze finally replied. “We need youuuuu…” Nothing more came, and worried that he might lose her he cried out in desperation. “Wait! Damn it don’t do this to me again!” Afforded no response he was left confused and angered peering into the darkness where her voice seemed to emanate from. Oddly enough there looked to be a faint but unwaivering glow at the source of her voice. A light protruding from the fog.
He’s heard stories of the desert sirens and a fool he would certainly not become but never the less he could not take his gaze away from the light. Maybe it was indeed a trick to bring him back but he knew better. People like him, no one spends time on. A lost cause, a better luck in the next life type of guy. Who was this reaching out to him? There was an odor hanging in the air. That smell, he hasn’t experienced that in many a year. It was what seemed to be the smell of a fading winter, of a glorious spring beginning to peak its head.
No one has ever brought on the idea of a new life to him. Could it be that the world he left is finally returning? That voice and that smell was so oddly familiar and as he took a step against the wind it became stronger, more palpable. Slowly at first then step after step his pace quickened. Tossing the remaining ambers at the mercy of the snow. Faster he went, it came once again. “Closerrrr…” she pronounced and he was more than willing to comply. Sprinting now a disregard of time and place washed over him. This is the voice, the person, the thing he sought out to find so many years ago. The thing he didn’t know he was even looking for but knew it was out there. Her voice alone made him forget, even if it was for just a moment, the world that he had once rejected. In full flight heeding her call he stumbles down to his knees weeping. In exhilaration, in joy and in love.
It would appear that our forgotten hero has decided to make a timely return.
