Jerry’s Flat – Friday
Night, March 10, 1989
Jerry’s flat was sparse on furniture and
furnishings, but what it lacked in décor, he made up with sound fidelity. The
speaker towers on each side of the simple bookshelf made of cinder blocks and
oak planks from the ranch—remnants from a barn torn down long ago—faced the
overstuffed chair placed in the precise audio center of the room. He scanned
the albums stacked to the side of the receiver. He pulled one from the bottom—long
forgotten—the cover was a graphic of wheels turning from railroad to space. He
pulled the vinyl from its sleeve, set the vinyl on the turntable, and pulled
the lever to place the needle in the groove. He plopped into his favorite and only
chair.
The past week was a whirlwind of thoughts and
emotions—the shocking and humbling effect of being so close to instant
death—yet saved miraculously—hearing a supernatural voice, waking to strangulation—lungs
filled like a balloon—and being swept away from an oncoming truck—and last
night, was it a bat that swooped through his bedroom, the air from its wings
brushing his face? Good seemed to be battling evil.
Why do
I find myself in the middle of this battle? And why after four years dedicated to
pursuing a rich career, do I struggle to write what was so obvious to me?
The piano ballad that soothed his nerves raw
from caffeine, little sleep, and frustration, led to familiar vocals, “I can’t
fight this feeling any longer,” and with that, he sank further into the
overstuffed chair and leaned his head back to stare at the ceiling.
To make
matters worse . . . or for the better?
The emotion this afternoon with Christina was
like the exhilaration he experienced when he reached the peak of the Grand
Teton last summer, feeling high on thin air at nearly 14,000 feet. Now, his
heart was out of breath, not used to the stimulation of a beautiful girl that
filled his spirit with her own. She was not like any girl he had ever met, yet
he felt a kindred familiarity from within. He had confided in her that which
shook him to his core, a change in his life that was difficult to express, yet
she totally understood the essence of his need to discover his destiny at this
pinnacle of life.
“Cause I feel so secure when we’re together . .
. ” he sang with REO and wandered to the window that overlooked the street,
hands in his pockets, and looked at the floor deep in thought. She brought
stability to his tumultuous thoughts that gave him direction and focus.
He took a deep breath and his mind flashed back
to the scene in the coffee shop with her. “Christina, yes, Christina, a
soothing thought, yet your presence so invigorates me. Your eyes . . . a
kaleidoscope . . . ” He smiled as he closed his and imagined the twinkling of
hers. “Amber, topaz, brown sapphire . . . ” Then continued as he looked out at
the building across the street— “That look into mine . . . ”
He saw a candle in the window.
“Radiating trust and love,” he said, finishing
his thought and staring at the candle.
You’re
a candle in the window . . .
The voice of REO’s lead singer echoed in the room.
He closed his eyes and shook his head. The upper story across the street had
been vacant since he had moved in last fall. What is a candle doing in the window?
I’ve
forgotten what I started fighting for . . .
REO’s lyrics caused him to reflect on his inner
fight, angry that he had spent four years striving, pushing himself towards a
goal that now seemed not his own. He paused
in thought, and a quizzical look replaced one of wonder. He recalled the words that
Christina emphatically spoke to him while mesmerized by her sparkling eyes, and
slowly recited them, “Write the words God spoke to you.”
He took a moment to ponder, leaned on the
windowsill and stared at the candle as REO finished their ballad.
Cause I
can’t fight . . . can’t fight this feeling anymore.
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Copyright 2017 © Jeff Cambridge
Excerpt from
PURSUIT, a novel by Jeff Cambridge, a writer of transformational fiction with
characters that tell life-changing stories.
This is a
pre-published scene.
To read the
scenes sequentially, begin with
“PURSUIT: A
Novel – Prologue”
You will find
the previous episodes in the monthly archives. Click on them and enjoy.
Your comments
are welcomed and appreciated. Simply check one of the reaction boxes below,
write a comment, or email me at bycambridge@gmail.com.
This novel is a
work of fiction. Any references to real events, businesses, organizations, and
locales are intended only to give the fiction a sense of reality and
authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely
coincidental.
v v v
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