A Tribute

CONTEMPLATIVE

E  X  I  G  E  N  T

L U  S T R O U  S

E  L  U  S  I  V  E

S  O  U L  F  U  L

T A L K A T I V E

E C  S T A T  I  C

 

Peace.

Chapter 3 - The Dominion of Night

It's always comforting to hear from old friends, isn't it?

         HUNTER AND HUNTED: THE DARK RAMBLER

                         The Dominion of Night

     So. I understand that you have wished never to hear from me again. Worse luck for you. You will tell my story.

     I am a consort of the night. She is a glorious, captivating inamorata whose soft zephyrs gently caress me as I slip through the folds of her gown, ever in pursuit of the one who requires my service. The night is my mistress and protector, embracing and cloaking me from the probing eyes of those who would circumvent my mission of mercy. Nothing must frustrate me in the completion of my goal, the cessation of some unfortunate’s misery.

     It is needful that I spend a modicum of time in discreet reconnaissance, following my unknowing client and learning the routes and routines I must know if I am to successfully complete my task. There can be no avoiding this necessity - without this knowledge there is a chance that I might be taken unaware by some unsuspected circumstance and diverted or prevented from performing my act of compassion. To this end, I must clothe my person in garments of deepest ebony, that no hue or glimmer might betray me to the unsuspecting denizens of the deep hours of the night or shallow hours of the impending morning.

     Prior to this portion of my purpose I must, of course, first select the person who will most benefit from my compassion. This is a crucial and delicate objective - there are so many souls in this world that suffer the throes of spiritual torture. I must choose one who is so overburdened that the spirit cries out for relief, one who desperately wishes release but is prevented from personally carrying out an act of suicide by the iron bonds of religious belief.

     To discover who might most require my kindness, I often frequent the innermost precincts of whatever city I have fetched up in, for to those locales have the most wretched gravitated, whether through need or greed. The mean streets and low dives of the inmost urban landscape are fertile territories, blossoming with the bitter fruits that it is my calling to harvest.

     I invariably begin my quest by roaming the darkling streets, directing my senses to those whom I pass, feeling for their inner pain. Many there are who suffer, but only in subdued fashion - their perturbations register only as would a quick caress, barely skimming the surface of my empathy. Others, however - ah, those others, whose silent, visceral cries of agony exert a sweet, constant, desirable pressure upon the naked pelt of my talent - it is them by whom I am beguiled, they who will receive the blissful release of their torment through the agency of my finely whetted blade.

     I have been graced with a photographic memory, a faculty that greatly facilitates my efforts at determining the person to whom I will devote myself. I spend perhaps a week in seeking out my ultimate choice, and when the winnowing procedure is finished, it is then that I begin the acquaintance phase of the process. My first course of action is to don my raven garments and shadow my prospect, paying careful attention to any patterns of behavior that may emerge. If, for example, my client is prone to patronize a drinking establishment (and, naturally, many are) that is where I will begin to promote my policy of seduction and solace.

     I have found that another excellent source of clients is the plethora of temporary employment agencies that have sprung up like noxious weeds in the last couple of decades, testament to the fact that employers have discovered the delightful datum that they no longer need care for their employees, that any nobody from the street can perform an entry-level job, and the savings in benefits and vacation time are enormous. If the nobodies are cunning and hard-working, they may be offered full employment at a ridiculously low salary, and glad they are to receive this beneficence. Some of my most productive prospects have come from this pool of part-timers, for they exude equal amounts of hope and despair. The contemplation of their release is as sweet music to my soul.

     Do you think me cruel and heartless? I assure you that I am not. Only by bestowing such a benison may I justify my actions, only by this method may I attempt to balance my unholy craving with an act of imperfect contrition. It is enough.

     Expect to hear from me again.

     This is the last communication that I have so far received from my interlocutor. It is possible that he may be ... busy. However, I did find this news item from the Plainfield Press interesting -

POLICE INVESTIGATE MULTIPLE DISAPPEARANCES

ASSOCIATED MEDIA

PLAINFIELD, Texas

Police are investigating the recent disappearances of four residents of the city of Plainfield. They have been reported as missing by co-workers, friends and families, and attempts to locate them have so far proven fruitless. Their names, ages and last known places of employment are:

James Earl Bottoms - 36  Sargent’s Super Mart

William Kwan - 31           Sargent’s Super Mart

Amelia Sirkin - 27           Blowmold Plastics Co., Inc.

Reynaldo Valdez - 24      Allied Depositories

Authorities request that any citizens who possess knowledge of the present whereabouts of these individuals come forward and contact Detective Joseph Grosvenor of the Plainfield PD to divulge what information they have. The authorities wish to assure citizens that no tangential questions shall be asked of them, and that any information that they may supply will be kept in the strictest of confidence.

This one's for you, Kathy. Thanx.

Copyright Malcolm Mott 2006

Peace.

Matters Proceed

Has it really been a month since I last made an entry? How time flies. I haven't felt much like writing; I haven't that much to say at the moment. I can say that after some false starts, Bonnie has now completed more than 30% of her treatment regimen, and she is every day becoming more like the dear woman that I know and love.

I should explain that since her last episode, back in 2000, changes on the psych ward, as in life, had occurred, and the doctor to whom Bonnie's care had previously been entrusted and who intimately understood her requirements had since received a well-deserved promotion and is presently the director of the entire ECT program at Strong Memorial Hospital. As such, he is no longer involved in individual treatment.

More youthful doctors today, it seems (this is only my own personal opinion) are more in favor of treatment through pharmaceuticals than through alternative treatments that may, in fact, be more efficacious. I have become inured to the fact that the opinions of family members are often lightly regarded, no matter how pertinent and informed those opinions may be. I had somehow forgotten that, as part of Bonnie's psychosis, she was wary of affixing her signature to anything, and as I was at first incapable of making trips to the hospital, I did not discover until two weeks had passed that Bonnie had not yet begun treatment because of her refusal to sign the consent forms. When I first managed to reach the hospital to talk to Bonnie's doctor, I found to my dismay that it was almost a foregone conclusion that Bonnie was to be committed to the Rochester Psychiatric Center for long-term care. Her doctor was, in effect (it seemed to me) washing her hands of Bonnie. I found this approach to be untenable for both of us, as it would keep us apart for a much greater length of time than was necessary.

Almost in a panic, I sent an email to her previous doctor, imploring him to remember how well Bonnie had responded to ECT treatments, and to please exert himself to the maximum to see to it that she remained on the ward and began her treatments. Also, I did everything in my power to convince Bonnie that she must sign the consent, because the alternative was unthinkable.

I owe a debt of thanks that I can never repay to Dr. Eric Brewer. Not only did he take time away from his busy schedule to respond to me, but his influence was evident the next time that I spoke to Bonnie's doctor. As the title of the entry indicates, things are now well in hand and under way, and I now expect that Bonnie will return home sometime in mid-July.

Bonnie is so far along now that she is once again taking an interest in things and demonstrating emotions. She has once again begun to read the newspapers that I bring to her, and she has begun requesting small items from home (she always requests scissors and a razor, but of course those items are forbidden to patients - it's a wonder they let me use my cane.) She has also begun requesting that i bring her specific food items - her first request was for a cheeseburger and strawberry milkshake from McDonalds. She has also requested Pepsi and BBQ chicken, so I'll have to see what I can do. Except for the occasional item such as rolls, fruit, and juices, Bonnie finds most of the hospital food to be nearly inedible, and after having experienced 3 days worth of it myself (along with nibbles from what she has received) I am forced to agree with her.

She has taken a dislike to particular aides and patients, and her displeasure is immediately apparent, unlike the almost zombie-like quality which she formerly displayed, and, although I am certain that it is unpleasant for the people involved, I can look upon it as a demonstration of the degree to which she has already recovered.

As for my own condition, I am as capable now as I was before my leg became inflamed - there is little discomfort now, although it is apparent that occasional flareups may continue to occur if I overexert myself. I can drive, I can negotiate the hospital corridors, and I can make necessary trips to stores, so I am at 100% operating efficiency. I have been informed by my doctor that I am now officially diabetic, but you will not be reading much, if anything, about that here. There are many excellent resources to which you can refer if you wish to learn more.

The third chapter of the 'Dark Rambler' saga has finally been completed and will shortly be posted.

Until then, as ever,

Peace.

Reprise

This is a reprint of an entry I posted a year less a day ago. There are no profundities here, it's simply a record of my feelings then, now, and always.

All You Need . . .

Love.

Love is caring and sharing.

Love is being apart and being a part, at one and the same time.

Love is always - always - being there for the other person in your life.

Love is caring enough to leave that last slice of pie, or feeling free to take it, because more can always be gotten.

Love is a smile, a touch, a kiss.

Love is a feast for the senses.

Love is a competition between partners to see who can do more for the other.

Love is sharing vulnerabilities.

Love is realizing that if you fall, there will be someone there to catch you, and carry you if necessary.

Love is knowing and not caring.

Love is velvet and steel.

Love is speaking without saying a word.

Love is knowing yourself so that you may know others.

Love is understanding that you must care for your partner before you care for yourself.

Love is having your own space, your own possessions, and being secure enough to share them.

Love is best at its quietest.

Love is communion.

Love is sometimes a journey from the heights to the depths and back.

Love is forgiving but not forgetful; it adjusts.

Love is one of the highest accomplishments you will ever attain, and is one of the hardest to achieve.

Love is and love shall be.

Peace and love.

The Walk

(Thanx go out to Celeste for the title)

Short and very, very sweet. I tested my ankle today. Twice. I can walk again, after a fashion, and tomorrow I am going to visit the hospital and my dear wife Bonnie. Only death can keep me away now.

Peace.

Nikki's Tags

It feels somewhat odd to attempt to begin journaling after the forced hiatus (and typing while on one elbow is rather awkward) but I'll see if I can't ride the ol' warhorse once again.

I wanted to devote this short entry to a very kind and talented lady who has done more for me than I can ever repay. Not only has she taken it upon herself to remedy my deplorable lack of tunes (and she has excellent taste in music) but she has also taken time out from other, more important, artistic endeavors to create the delightful whimsies that you are about to view.

It's hard to imagine that anyone has not yet found their way to her journal, but if you haven't, you're in for a rare treat. So please go to Nikki's journal and revel.

You'll notice that Nikki has used her very own theme puzzle to create this. (How she guessed that occurrences such as this have actually happened is beyond me.)

This one came about, I presume, because I mentioned in passing that silly Barbara Walters question "If you could be a tree ..."

And i have to guess that she created this last because, somehow, she knows that I like birds.

Now that I think about it, she must have read my entry about Baby.

And, as if all the tunes and tags weren't enough, she also sent me this character that she dug up from an obscure website.

Life is never dull with your adventurous and restless spirit. You are always on the move and seeking a new challenge to pit your wits against. Being in touch with nature you love the outdoors. You have keen intuition and a desire for knowledge and you can be something of a crusader. When you apply discipline and tenacity to your energetic mind then leadership positions are easily available to you. Walter - Powerful Warrior: Teutonic

The description came from a site the URL of which I have forgotten at the moment, but as it is absolute piffle, it doesn't much matter anyway.

If I can muster the energy, tomorrow I'll load the special puzzle that Bonnie had created for me shortly before she became ill. Until then ...

Peace.

Risen from Purgatory

I'm back. Well ..., sort of. This is mainly, for now at least, an update for those who don't already know. Bonnie was admitted to the hospital on April 19th, and while the manner of her going was chaotic and unpleasant in the extreme, the upshot is rather more desirable. Her treatment regimen has begun, and in approximately 2 months she will be approaching the end of her recovery period and almost ready to rejoin society. I am, you may imagine, eagerly awaiting the day.

I will not go into gruesome detail on the manner of her going, except to mention that it took 2 emts and 2 deputies to secure her to a gurney.

The precipitating circumstance was a completely unexpected event - my left leg ceased to work and, to add to the chaos, became painfully inflamed. After three days of agony and the realization that we were both now housebound and incapable of caring for ourselves, the only option was to have us both admitted to the hospital. I made a point of explaining to the emt that i was moderately depressed (a bit of forethought that fortuitously came in handy, even though it occasioned a comedy of errors and ran the risk of having me confined to the psych ward also.) I'll probably further detail my trip through the bowels of the medical system, but this is not the place for it.

My leg is still exceedingly weak and i cannot sit or walk for more than 10 minutes before a flareup of pain occurs, but it has for the most part been reduced to nagging discomfort. While there are many tests that remain to be done, the preliminary diagnosis is a condition known as osteopenia (wow! the things we learn!) It is a lesser form of osteoporosis and is characterized by a loss of bone density. It is at the moment unclear whether i will regain full use of the leg.

I once again wish to thank all you marvelous people who have been unstinting in your prayers and support, and a special mention must be made of those who have gone above and beyond the call of duty and provided willing ears when things became too much for this old gent (you, I trust, know very well who you are.)

I'm happy to be back and on the mend.

Peace.