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NATHAN MACHADO'S
WAKE UP DEAD-EPISODE TWO
EPISODE TWO
Stepping inside, I noticed all the tools hanging on the walls and those strewn about the several work benches. The smell of oil, gas and other solvents were thick in the air and I came to enjoy the aroma. There was a haunting familiarity about this place yet, like everything else, I couldn't remember what. After walking about for a few seconds, I suddenly heard a loud klank come from behind me. Quickly I turned and saw a man dressed in blue coveralls picking up a pair of pliers off the floor. He was a heav y set man, thick bodied and appeared to be hairy all over. His face was broad and hard, covered with about three days growth. Brown eyes were his trademark and he was completely bald on top. Standing erect now, he saw me and an immediate smile came over his face. Without hesitation, he rushed over and gave me a great big bear hug. As the air was squeezed out of my lungs, I realized the name of the man. Frank.
"Hey, hey, hey! What are you doin' here?" he asked in an over-joyous tone. Unsure how to respond, I said: "Why I'm here to see you." Then Frank began to talk and talk about all the fun times we had as teenagers driving around in a black 1969 Chevy Camero. Once again, I could remember nothing of which he spoke. I simply played along and let him keep on talking. As Frank continued to talk, questions concerning what was happening to me raised their head once again. And once again I had a desire to ask Frank i n the hope of getting some answers. but once more, the desire to inquire was squelched by the simple reality that I was here for Frank, not myself.
"Yea," Frank muttered, "that was one great car we had. Too bad it was stolen. There were some many more great times to be had with it." Frank's words drove like spikes into my brain and suddenly I could remember something; the truth surrounding the mystery of the disappearance of the car. The truth came flooding down out of my brain to the edge of my quivering lips. Just as with Jill, I didn't want to tell Frank the truth, but somehow I knew I had too.
"Frank," I uttered slowly, "the car never really was stolen. I sold it to get the money I needed to pay off my bookie. I said it had been stolen so you wouldn't get angry with me." I watched as my words hit Frank squarely in the face. For a moment, he said nothing; he just placed his pliers down and stared at me for several minutes. Finally he began to speak. "So I guess blood isn't really thicker than water?" The phrase caught me off guard and I was unsure how to answer. What exactly was Frank driving at? But before I could respond, I noticed Frank's attention had turned elsewhere. Frank was now looking up at the ceiling with the same expression on his face Jill had had. "What?" he said to the open air. "Oh okay," and he turned to look back at me. "He says you have to go. you're not ready yet."
"Not ready for what?" I asked. "Who were you talking to? Tell me...I need to know." But Frank didn't answer. he just simply pointed to the door. I knew I just couldn't walk away without an answer, but something told me it was time to leave again. So I did and I once again was walking through the infinite flatlands of rapture. My total essence at peace with all I could see and experience.
Once again, I left to contemplate my latest encounter while traversing the plains of peace and solitude. For the second time, I had confessed my sins to someone I supposedly knew, yet I received no enlightenment to my predicament in return. yet, somehow, it all seemed to be worthy. The fact that I had no real answers didn't seem to mater when compared to telling those people the truth and facing up to what I now assumed were my past sins. being transported here to this placid plane had brought me into a un ion so harmonious that it went beyond anything I or any other human had felt before. It was like being at heaven's door knowing that true happiness was only a heartbeat away. Suddenly another object appeared on the infinite horizon, and this time, I walked toward it quick of step and expectations beyond my wildest dreams.
After several unyielding footsteps, I arrived at my next, and hopefully final, destination. This time, however, it wasn't a tent or building I happened upon but rather a small pond. Surrounding the pond were several medium sized oak trees, each covered with green marsh grass and the pond itself had several clumps of lily pads jetting up onto the surface of the water. Passing my eye further along the area, I inevitably found what I was looking for. there, seated on a large rock jutting out over the water, w as a man.
My quarry was dressed in a brown fisherman's vest, blue jeans, rubber boots and a dingy old fisherman's hat. Quickly I approached him. As I came progressively closer, I began to see his face. Clearly from the bags and wrinkles, he was an older gentleman, say in his late fifties. His skin was weathered and dry; no doubt from all the fishing he did. He had a strong proud face and his eyes were a dull faded blue. Closer and closer I came to him, but he didn't move. he just sat, pole in hand and his face to th e water. It wasn't until I was practically on top of him that he noticed me.
"Well son: it's good to see you...been a long, long time." he bellowed. I thought to myself "son". Was I really his offspring or was this his way of greeting people younger than himself? I didn't know and again I couldn't remember. The fog had refused to lift itself from my mind, and it would seem it wasn't leaving anytime soon. I sat down next to him and he wrapped his arm around me. The next several minutes were marked like my last encounters. He talked on and on about all the good times we had fishing; times I couldn't remember. By now though, I didn't care. I was simply there enjoying his company and stories.
He kept talking for a while longer than the other two I had encountered and I ate up everything he said. "Y'know, those were some of the best times of my life," he said with a big grin on his face. "The only thing that could possibly have made them better would've been if the boat he had hadn't sunk." And with those final passing words, the memory rushed over me like a torrential rain storm. Similar to the other two times I wanted to tell this man the truth. But, unlike the other times, this truly hurt bey ond anything that had come before, which told me that quite possibly this man truly was my father.
"Dad," I said, choking back the tears. "The boat didn't sink. I had to sell it to pay for my girlfriend's abortion." Once the words left my lips, I felt an inner pain like nothing I had experienced previously. But, if there was good pain and bad pain, surely this was the best pain of all.
Slowly, he pulled away from me and walked away. Still holding my tears back, I saw him turn his back to me. I didn't know what more to say and I don't think he did either. Abruptly he looked skyward; just like the other two previous. "Dad!" I called out. "What is it?" But he didn't respond, not immediately. After a few hush seconds, he turned back and looked at me. With a disappointed look in his eye and sad inflection in his voice, he spoke. "I'm sorry son, you have to go. You're...you're not ready."
I wanted to jump up and yell to the heavens, to try and get somebody to finally explain to me what was going on. However, I was too at peace with myself to give in to such an outburst. Gingerly, I rose up and walked away from my father and the pond. But before I reached the edge of the enclosure, a bright light appeared in the tranquil sky. The intensity of it was unbelievable and I couldn't look at it for fear of going blind from its' radiance. A few more seconds passed and suddenly I was yanked from the ground and sent rushing upwards toward the divine point of light. For a brief moment, I wanted to resist but the feeling passed. I allowed myself to be plucked from the plains of perfection and be deposited into the light from beyond.
Slowly I opened my eyes, but I saw nothing. Total blackness engulfed me and I knew not where I was. All I could tell was that once again I was lying prone. I tried to reach out but my arm stopped immediately by something. Wood. I felt around me and all I could feel was hard finished wood. beneath me, it was soft; like a cushion of pillows.
Then I felt something on my chest and I maneuvered my arms through my cramped confines until I could grab it. As it came into my hands, I felt stems and leaves. Slowly r unning my hands down the stems, I felt sharp thorns every so many inches. Where the hell was I?
Then it hit me and stark raving terror took over my body. "Oh my god", I thought. "it can't be. It just can't. Let me out!!!" I screamed over and over again. I pounded and pounded on the wooden lid, but nothing happened. Finally I screamed out. "Let me out! I'm alive, damn it! I'm alive!!!:
But no one was there to hear it........no one was there to hear it.