Dakota (Ch 2)

She took steps back, mouth still hanging agape. Picking up her bags, she considered her next move. Chicago was all she new. Chicago was home. She clutched her phone. She could call him. She could talk it out. She could fix this. She just wasn't sure she wanted to. She didn't try that hard to stop it. Did she want it to happen? Did she want this?

"Where do I go from here?"

She trudged up the steps of her parents bungalow. She hadn't been on this porch in nearly eleven years. The night they kicked her out. They hated her for choosing him. She couldn't go back now. But she had no choice. He was gone. He left. She had nothing. She couldn't survive on her own. She worked at Boutique Elegance bringing home a mere $200 a week. What else could she do? Her friends moved on. They were gone. She isolated herself the day she met him. Knock. Knock.

"Mom? Dad?"

Knock. Knock.

"Who is it?" came the soft voice from the other side of the wood and glass.

"It's, it's...it's Rebekah. It's me. I'm home."

The door opened slowly at first, then more abruptly. Marcie Dekolowitz couldn't believer her eyes. Her daughter was standing in front of her. Her daughter was standing on the front porch.

"Rebekah! I've missed you so much."

She lurched forward and wildly embraced her daughter. Rebekah stood steadfast, not moving. Tears began to flow. Both women could not hold back.

"Mom, mom."

She sobbed, drew in a long deep breath.

"Mom, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I chose him. I'm sorry I chose him over you. I didn't want to turn my back. But you left me no option. I'm sor--"

"Rebekah, dear, Rebekah"

She brushed the hair from her daughter's face.

"Rebekah, you're here now. That's what matters to me. I love you. I missed you terribly. But you've come home and I love you just the same. You're my little girl. Come in. Come inside."

"Thank you Mom. I love you so much. I wanted to come back so many times. I wanted to see you. I wanted to talk to you. There were so many times that I wanted to pick up the phone and talk to my mom. I'm sorry I never did. It was too hard. I couldn't do it. And the longer I waited, the harder it got."

"It's OK, Beka. Let's just sit and have some iced tea and talk about what brought you here today."

They stepped into the living room. It was unchanged. Rebekah felt as if she had stepped back in time. She suddenly felt younger. Eleven years and not a thing had changed inside that house. She slumped into the old sofa that faced out the bay window. It had been her favorite spot to sit growing up. She would look out at all the people hurrying past. Everyone had somewhere to be, someone to see, something to do. She feigned a smile and looked down at her lap. Her hands were trembling. She called into the kitchen.

"Where's Dad? Don't tell me he still works weekends! I used to hate that I never got to see him. I always wanted to go to the playgr--"

"Oh Beka! Rebekah!"

A glass crashed to the kitchen floor. Marcie quickly returned and perched herself on the coffee table, grasping her daughters hands.

"I thought you'd heard. Rebekah, your father, well..."

Rebekah's breath halted. She didn't want to hear the end of that sentence. She somehow immediately knew. She just didn't want to hear it come out of her mother's mouth.

"Your father died of lung cancer two years ago."

The bitter taste of those words made Rebekah's stomach turn. She should have been there. She should have been there for her mom. Why hadn't she picked up the phone? Why hadn't she waited through all those rings, until her mom had actually answered. Dialing was as far as she ever got. Dialing. She felt the pangs of her tragic choice. She would never see him again. She could never say 'I'm sorry.' She could never fix this.

"Mom, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry that I wasn't here. I should have been here for you. I should have been by your side."

"Your brother and I tried to reach you. We tried to find you, to call you. But no one knew where you were. Downtown. Uptown. Westside. Eastside. You moved so much everyone lost track."

"I'm sorry. I can't even think of what else to say to you. I can't begin to ask for your forgiveness. I missed him so much. I know he threw me out. I felt like he hated me then, but I knew. I knew he loved me and I loved him. I said awful things to him. I told him I hated him. I never fixed it."

"Hunny, he knew that you loved him. Even at the end, he knew he'd never get the chance to see you. He knew we'd looked but we just couldn't find you. But don't ever think that he didn't love you. He loved you with all his heart. And he knew you loved him. What's done is done. What's important is the steps you take from here, from this point forward."

Rebekah shifted her position. She sat back, released her mother's hands, and broke her mother's gaze. She looked past her, out the window.

"Mom, Jake ended it. I treated him so wrong. I took him for granted. He loved me. He truly loved me. I know that you and Dad never understood that. That you never agreed with the two of us being together. But he did love me. He never treated me wrong. I was his world. Was."

Marcie stood and moved next to Rebekah on the sofa. Rebekah looked back down at her lap. Her hands were still trembling. She stretched her fingers, clasped her palms, then released. She stared back at the twelve panes of glass between her and the world.

"I, well, I wasn't exactly faithful with Jake. I loved him, but I just, I don't know. I was stupid. I made bad decisions. I met this guy at the coffee shop on our corner and...and I didn't think twice. It was as if I didn't see the problem with cheating this one time. If it had been just once, well um...that would have been alright. But it transformed into something else. I was doing really good with my commissions at the boutique so I would downplay that to Jake, tell him things were just OK. I'd spend the extra time with Ryan. Jake thought I was working, he had no idea. Then my commissions started slowing down and Jake knew something was wrong. I confessed. He was furious; I'd never seen him that angry. We got through it though. He forgave me. He never forgot it but he forgave me and we moved on. We picked up and moved across town to get away from Ryan and the temptation for me."

"Oh Beka"

Marcie rested her hand on Rebekah's knee. Rebekah shifted uncomfortably, gaze unbroken from those twelve panes.

"Last week..."

She swallowed back tears. Deep breath.

"Last week, I was at the market. I came around the corner, looking for damn granola bars, and there he was...Ryan. It had been almost a year. It didn't matter. It only took a moment."

She shifted again, swallowed.

"I don't know what I was thinking. I gave in. That was Thursday. Jake was going out of town for work the following Friday, yesterday. I invited Ryan over, for the weekend. This morning...this morning Jake came home. They didn't need him in Lansing. He drove all night to get home, brought me roses. Except when he walked in--"

She took a long pause, fidgeted, her fingers entangling. Then she turned and looked her mother in eyes, tears building.

"When he walked in, Ryan and I were still in bed."

She turned back to the window

"He freaked. Ryan bolted. I had never told him about Jake. Jake threw the flowers, shattering the crystal vase against the brick wall. I was scared. I don't know what I was thinking. I don't know why I didn't see what I had. I loved him. I loved Jake. Ryan meant nothing. I just, I just, I was stupid. I didn't think. I just did."

Marcie reached out and embraced her daughter. Both cried. She consoled her daughter and released her.

"Hunny, just let it out. You'll figure this out. It'll be alright. You'll get through it. You'll make better decisions. You're home now. You're here...with me."

"I still love him! I do. But, he told me to pack. Said he'd be back in an hour. When he came back, he told me he called his boss. He was taking an extended leave from work. He needed to go home. Home to Dakota. He couldn't be in Chicago now, not after this. He packed his things, what he could, and loaded the car. We drove here and he kicked me out. He left. Why? Why was I so freaking stupid? Dammit Mom! I lost him!"

She sat, entranced with those twelve panes, unmoving.

"I loved him"

The tears flowed more freely now. She put her face in her hands. Her mother wrapped her arms around her. And they cried together.

Welcome home, Rebekah Dekolowitz, welcome home.

Dakota

I look at you. You look at me. Blink. Blink. Blink. We stare back. Nothing. No movement. No emotion. Stillness.

"I said, 'GET OUT!'"

"NO!"

"GET OUT OF THE DAMN CAR!"

In a swift reaching motion, I grab the lever, pull, and push the door open.

"I'm not getting out of this car."

Turning back to my own door, I reach up and open it. I walk around the back of the car, sure to take my keys with me. I grab you firmly under the shoulders, and pull. I heave. You slowly start to move. I'm serious. You realize this now. I'm not staying here with you and I'm definitely not taking you with me. No. This is where it must end. You go your way. I'll go mine. We're done. We're done. Yes, we're done. So why not say it?

"We're done."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"No what did you just say"

"I said we're done. This is it."

"Are you kidding me? This is how it's gonna be?"

"Yep, sorry, this it. I'm done. I'm tired. Moving on"

"I can't believe you. You're an idiot."

"Whatever, I'm done. There's nothing else to say...Do you have everything?"

"Uh, yeah, I think."

"Goodbye then."

Without offering a chance for a reply, I turn, head down, and move quickly back to my side of the car. I look up for just a moment and you stand there mouth gaping. Blink. Nothing. I slide back into the car, turn the key, shift to drive, and hit the gas. I drive for what seems like hours. These places aren't familiar. Where am I? Turn left. No. Right? Maybe...there, there it is. North. I need to go North. Two hundred more miles. I'm almost there. Why is it so quiet? Turn it up. Blink. Turn it up. Better. Play something I can sing to. Wonder what she's doing? No. It's over. It's done. Keep driving. It's not that much longer now. I can do this. I can.

"Can I?"

I nervously tap the wheel. I look at myself in the mirror.

"Yes. I can do this. It's already done. Just keep going."

I'm almost home. I'm almost back where I belong. I recognize these places. I've been here before. I'm almost home. The radio cuts out. My phone rings. I check the screen. No. I'm not answering this one. I won't. It stops. The music resumes. I sing to distract myself. It cuts oout again.

"Dammit. Don't do this!"

I look at the screen again. I can't not look. It's not her. It's not her. It's... It's reprieve.

"Hello?" I answer.

"Hey" comes the voice on the other end.

"What's up?"

"I just thought you should be here by now. Did everything go OK? Don't tell me that I have to come get you. You did do it, right?"

"Yeah. It's done. It's definitely done"

"Thank God!"

"I'm just a few miles out. Ten minutes maybe. I don't know, I'm not used to driving around here anymore. It's been too long."

"It's all good. No hurry. Just got worried for a minute."

"Well there's no need to worry. I'm almost there. I can't believe I did it. I actually surprised myself. I mean, I wanted to do it, don't get me wrong. I just can't believe I actually did."

"I know man. I thought you might bail"

"C'mon!"

"No seriously, I thought you might give in, hold on, stay...you know like last time."

Glancing in the mirror, I see flashing lights.

"Crap."

"What?"

"Nothing, not you. I think I was speeding. There's a cop pulling me over. I gotta go."

"Wha--"

I hit the button on the wheel ending the call. I pull off to the shoulder. Flashers on. I reach across to the glove box. I grab my insurance card and reach for my wallet in my pocket. Where is it? Where's my wallet? Calm down. Calm down. It's right there. It's in the cup holder. It's OK. Breathe. Just breathe. I hear a tap on the glass, turn and lower my window.

"Son, license and registration please."

"Yes, um yes sir, I mean ma'am. Sorry. I'm sorry."

"It's alright, could I just have the papers sir?"

"Yes, here, I have them right here."

"Thank you, now do you know why I pulled you over?"

"Not really officer. I may have been going a few miles over the limit. I'm not exactly sure what the speed limit is here. I haven't been up in Dakota for years. I kind of forget. I'm just trying to get home. I mean, I'm coming back home."

"Well, no um, you weren't speeding. I actually pulled you over because you have a broken taillight."

"Really? I'm sorry. I had no idea."

"Well I'm inclined to let you go with a request you get that fixed."

"I'd appreciate it. I really wasn't aware."

"Yes son, it's quite all right. Here you are, have a good night."

"Thank you officer. I'll get it taken care of right away."

"Please do. Drive safe. Get straight to where your going."

"Yes ma'am."

She turned sharply and moved back towards her cruiser. I closed the window and slowly eased back onto the highway. I'm almost there. Redial. I have to call him back. Jason is going to wonder what's going on. Send. I'm tapping the wheel again. I do that a lot. Am I nervous? Well I guess I should be. It's been a stressful day. Why isn't he answering? No. I don't want to leave a message. End. Redial.

"C'mon Jay, answer your phone. I just had you. It's been like five minutes."

Voicemail. End. Blink. Just keep driving. Turn signal on. This is my exit. It's getting darker. The pines are reaching down, barely clearing the roof of my car. Back roads in Dakota. I'm not sure that I miss them. What was that? Oppossum? No. It was too big. Looked too much like a cat. Bobcat? Lynx? Who cares. Why didn't Jason answer? I should try again. Should I? I mean I'm almost there now. No I'll try again. Redial. Tap. Tap. Tap. I'm tapping again. My nerves are shot. I really need to sleep. It's been a few nights. Two? No, three. Yeah, it'd been three nights. Barely a moment's sleep. My eyes were red, sunken. Voicemail. Again. It's alright. I'm almost there. Gunshots. I wasn't used to hearing those. They actually startled me. I can't believe it. Gunshots. Startle me? I grew up here. I used to be used to this. I know it's been years. Weird. I don't miss gravel roads. That's for sure. Driving ten miles an hour. Ridiculous. I don't have time for this. Well, I mean I know I'm not going anywhere, but seriously, who wants to have to drive this slow. Are you that poor South Dakota that you can't afford to pave the freaking roads. How long had I been in Chicago? I left in '94. So, yeah, wow. Has it really been 16 years? That's crazy. It didn't seem that long. Well, it kinda did. Actually, it felt longer. I didn't really remember this place at all. Most of that was on purpose though. I did try to forget. I hated it then. I might hate it now. I don't know. It's possible. How long does this gravel road go on for? I see a light. That's it. There it is. Dear Lord, I'm finally here. I'm back. I can't believe it. How far is town? It felt further now then it ever did. I don't know if I can do this. Not here anyway. What was I thinking. Chicago. Uh, I think I miss Chicago already. Think about something else, Jake, think about something else.

"Finally"

I put the car in park with a deep exhale. This is it. I'm here. No turning back. But Chicago. Did I really have to come back here? Did I?

"Stop it. It'll be fine. It's just gonna take some time. Maybe a lot of time."

I stepped out of the car, reached in the back seat and grabbed my bag. The rest could wait until morning. I needed to sleep. I slowly walked to the door. I rang the bell.

"You'd think you'd be ready for me, Jason, c'mon."

I waited. Blink. I rang it again. And waited.

"Jay! Hey Jay! I'm here! C'mon open the door."

Nothing. I didn't even hear him coming. I tried the knob. It turned. It was unlocked. I'd been gone a long time, a proper welcome home would be nice. I pushed it gently open and stepped inside.

"Jay..."

What was that on the floor?

"Hey Jason, where you at?"

I walked slowly forward to the open kitchen door. I turned, gasping. I threw my bag to the ground and fell to my knees.

"Jason! Jason!"

I screamed as I crawled across the kitchen floor. There was blood everywhere. Jason was sprawled out on the tile, left leg bent up behind him, a knife resting on his open right palm. He wasn't gone yet. He tried to speak, but could only manage a gurgle, blood clogging his airway.

"Jason, don't try to talk. I'm gonna get you help. Hang on. Don't give up. Stay with me, Jason."

Where's my phone? Dammit. No service. Where's the phone? Jason, where's your phone?

"Jason hang on. I'm getting you help. I'm here it's alright Jason"

There it is. Pick up. C'mon.

"Hello? Yes I need an ambulance."

Wait, what's my address? I don't know. Where am I?

"Yes please send an ambulance. I just walked in the door and my brother...Jason...he's been stabbed or shot or...he needs an ambulance. 386 Elk River Lane. What? Yes. Yes, Wessington. Hurry, please hurry. Jason stay with me! Jason, look at me. Just send the ambulance. I have to go. I have to help him. He's dying. He's dying right in front of me. I have to help him. Just send the ambulance. How long? Yeah. How long til it's here? He can't wait that long! He can't. Hurry!"

I threw the phone across the room in rage. I'm back. I'm back Dakota! You happy? I'm here and my brother's dead. My brother's dead! I'm back and he's dead! I shouldn't have left Chicago. I just talked to him. He was fine. He was alive and now he's dead! What the hell happened in those ten minutes? Dammit, Jason! Blink.

Welcome to Wessington, South Dakota, Jake Samuels. Welcome home.

Cemetery

Cemetery

Yesterday I took a drive,
Killing time.
I drove until
I found myself
At the cemetery.

I pulled down the familiar lane,
Stopped by the tree I knew,
Put the car in park,
Slid out of my seat,
And walked.

Ten yards,
Just ten yards.
There it was
The stone, the marker.
There it was--
There she was.

"I came by for a visit"
I said.
"I have some news
and I miss you."

I sat in the grass,
Traced the letters,
Felt the pain-
Felt the pain.

It had been years.
Yes, years had passed
But I still felt the hurt
Still felt the loss
Still held on.

I held on to the memories,
The moments,
The days in the sun,
The days of too much fun.

I held on to the hugs,
The embraces,
The support,
The love.

I sat in the grass
Suddenly a brighter shade of green,
More life in each blade.
I rubbed my fingers through the mess of Earth's hair,
And I felt closer.

Closer to her than I had in years.
She was there.
I was there,
And again all seemed well.

Why

Every day my desire to move to Texas is increasing. It's not decreasing as would be expected with time. At this point, it's in God's hands. If an opportunity, and by opportunity I mean job, presents itself, I am going to take it. My life in York is stagnant. It's not bad but in order to make a change I have to step out of my comfort zone, step out in faith. I have to prove to myself that I can do this. I have a list of commitments that I am making to myself if I go. I feel that a different environment is the only way I'll be able to keep them. I don't completely know who I am. I know that sounds crazy. But I'm still growing and I need to be removed from all the distractions of familiarities and everyone I know in order to figure that out. I'm nearly 25. I need to grow up. Don't worry! God has a plan, I'm sure of it and I'm excited about it! He is mighty and He is in control of my life, even on days when I don't and don't want to admit it. My mom told me I can't go on feelings alone. But I view them as a manifestation of God's will for my life. My sense of home in Texas was the purest emotion I have felt in a long time, maybe ever. It's still going to be a struggle and there are aspects I'm really no looking forward to. I'm trying not to focus on those because I don't want to not to because of any hesitations. I know that I need to be there. I just pray that everyone will give me the support that I will undoubtedly need. I'm going to need to hear people's voices and be encouraged. I'm a social person and being on my own is going to kill me but a be a blessing at the same time. So pray for me. Support my decision. Believe in me. And don't you better keep in contact!

P.S. The futon will be open for anyone, anytime!

Questions

I wrote this back in August of 2005 after hearing that the mother of a classmate from CSY had passed away. Her passing was unexpected and struck a chord with me.


Questions

Why did You take her away?
I bet that’s what he’d say
It seems the world has ended
Or at least the framework needs mended
It’s hard to know what to do
When your world is tragically set askew

What’s the next step to take
I lived and I’d die for her sake
None of that matters now
Because everything has changed somehow

I’ve got some questions
In need of answers
I’m sure You’ll bring me through
Even this
And then You’ll make everything new
After this

Why her? Why now? Why this way?
How can I last another day?
Did she pass in peace or in pain?
The tears I shed, fall like rain
I’ve got to pull myself together
Not for me, but in memory of her

Red Ink

People tell me that writing is a way to avoid reality, a way to hide behind a persona or another identity and tell a story. Yet I find many flaws in the essence of this idea. I don't write for you. I don't write for anyone. I write for myself. It's cathartic. It's an extension of who I am when I sit down and put pen to paper or fingers to keyboard. What spews forth is not a way to escape or hide. What ends up on the page or the screen is a manifestation of who I am, what I feel, see, hear, believe, hope, dream. Whether it be a song, a poem, an essay, a story, or a class paper, whatever I write is me. I don't write to escape reality. No, I write to reflect reality. I write to express, to expound, to enjoy, and yes, to share.

Untitled

I had to write this paragraph for my Advanced Composition class (in about a 20 minute time frame). I'm actually ended up liking it...

"Untitled"

As I sat at the window, I couldn’t help but dream of you. Stuck inside the lifeless and colorless trappings of my room, I felt myself beginning to slip away. The wind whipped across the tops of the hills. The snow had reached depths unpredicted. Life in my world was at a standstill. Everyone was locked up inside their homes. I was just another victim of the weather’s brutality on the town. The frost, creeping up the window, sent chills down my back. Chills reached to the tips of my toes. Somewhere the sun was shining. Somewhere the sky was blue. Somewhere life went on. Memories continued to fade in and out. There were those times at the beach. Remember them? I was fighting waves. You were soaking in the rays of a fading summer sun. It was another time completely. The heat that radiated from your body, reflected from the sun, and expounded your beauty. Those days -- perfection. But where were you now? Miles and mountains separated us. I imagined you hold up in your dormitory, writing furiously. Another deadline looming, another deadline passed. The critics wouldn’t wait much longer and the publishers couldn’t. Printing was only days away. Drafts were needed. Still you continued to write.

The sun flickered through the trees. The wind blew harder. Trees let go of clumps of snow. And I just sat at the window.