soul searching
Jordan
Take it.
I don’t know how long I’ve been staring at the bottle of bourbon before I hear the voice at the back of my head. Go ahead. Nobody’s watching. Just . . . take it.
I have the money. It’s right there, in my wallet, burning a hole in my back pocket.
But I don’t want to buy it, do I? Where’s the fun in that?
Short of this shoplifting stint back in the fifth grade, where I got caught pocketing a nasty pack of Swisher Sweets cherry
cigars from the Cardinal Pharmacy, I’ve never been one for petty theft. And yet, something in me wants to grab the bottle
and walk out of here.
What’s stopping me? Nothing, the voice in my head whispers. Such a fucking backseat driver. Absolutely nothing at all. Funny. That voice sounds an awful lot like Lilith . . .
Is it?
It’s not. Can’t be. I would know if it was actually her. I sense it whenever she’s near. A song caught in my head, a tune
I can barely carry. The friction in the air. The conjuring of particles. The atmosphere darkens, somehow, wet electricity,
a passing thundercloud blotting out the sun. Everything feels darker when she’s near, as if there’s a storm coming.
She brings chaos into my life. I miss it when she’s not around. The upheaval inside.
Miss her.
I wonder where she is right now. If I could just call out to her, maybe she could find me. Didn’t she say I could? Reach out
and summon someone? It’s only been a day since our trip to the museum. Now I want to see her again. Feel her. The anarchy
she brings.
This right now, in the ABC store, whatever the hell this is . . . this is just me. My inner demons, whispering to take it. Just take it. What’s stopping you? Nothing, nothing at all . . .
Put it on my tab. I’m racking up sins left and right now. I’m already going to hell, aren’t I? What’s one more infraction
of morality going to hurt? What’s holding me back?
Where’s the angel on my shoulder when I need them the most?
Is anyone going to stop me?
The clerk behind the counter is too tired to care. We barely make eye contact. “Changed my mind,” I mumble as I walk by.
Something within his blank expression shifts. A flicker in his eyes. Did he just wake up? One eye turns toward me while the
rest of himself remains unnervingly still. His right eye seems to have a mind of its own, detached from whatever optic nerve
tethers the left to his brain, wandering along and following me as I go. There’s no fucking way that can be real.
“Have a good night,” he says. Then grins.
Fuck me. Not him, too.
I focus on the door. Walking through it. The electronic chime—DING! Managing my breath. Keeping my eyes on the sidewalk ahead
and not looking over my shoulder.
I’m seeing things again. Hallucinating melting faces wherever I go. Maybe it’s just my guilty consciousness. That quarter
pint sure feels heavy now, doesn’t it? Not heavy enough.
Thou shalt not steal . . .
Okay, been there, broke that commandment. Do I even know the other nine? Can I list them off? Let’s put myself to the test. Pop quiz time, Ten Commandment edition:
Thou shalt not kill.
Survey says . . . DING-DING! Top of the list, every time. Everyone’s favorite.
Thou shalt not commit adultery.
Lost cause on that one, sorry . . .
Thou shalt not take the lord’s name in vain.
Goddamn it.
Okay, now—this is where it starts to get tough. I’m pretty hazy on the rest. I really need to dig deep to list the others.
I’m probably getting them all out of order, too.
Thou shalt not have other gods before me.
What an odd thought. Prioritizing supreme beings, like dating deities. I’ve never been willing to commit to just one. Not
to any, if I’m being honest.
What’s left? What are the other commandments?
Thou shalt not . . . Thou shalt . . . Thou . . .
Fuck it. Let’s make up our own commandments, why don’t we? Lilith would get a kick out of that. Make them just to break them.
Rules are meant to be broken, am I right?
Thou shalt not . . . throw a brick through a window. What’s stopping me from picking up a rock and tossing it right into that house?
Thou shalt not . . . covet thy neighbor’s demons. I’ve got my own personal demons to contend with, why am I seeing another? Aren’t I seeing enough
already, wherever I go? They’re following me all the time now. Faces melting all around. I don’t need any more demons in my
life, thank you very much. One is enough.
So many sins, so little time. Where’s the line inside me? Can I cross it? Maybe I just need to let go of this tension for
once, relent. I’m such a tightly wound spring, keeping my shit locked down, I can’t even imagine what it would be like to
simply let go. Cut loose. Be as bad as I want to be. Would that be so awful? To indulge my darkness, once and for all?
Isn’t that what Lilith wants? What would it hurt?
everyone
anyone
no one
I will say this—something about this bourbon tastes better, knowing that I didn’t pay for it. The burn works its way down
my throat and settles into my belly, a little hellfire right there in my stomach. It was easy. So easy. I took what I wanted
and nobody stopped me.
That line of my morality sure is blurring.
Who knows? Maybe that line was never there. Maybe I’ve just been kidding myself. It’s hard to know what’s right and what’s
wrong when you’re sleeping with your demons.
“Did you hear?” Deak says, teeing up. I’m not sure where he got the clubs from. He’s never been one for putt-putting, but
he grips his nine iron like Arnold Palmer set to swing.
“Hear what?”
“Hell on Wheels just laid off half of its couriers.”
“Holy shit.”
We’re on the roof of the abandoned soap factory on Broad. The windows are all shattered, so it’s simple enough to climb through
and make our way up top. There’s a bottle of bourbon at our feet, almost polished. A bucket of balls. No tees. Just empty
beer bottles.
Deak perches the ball on top of the mouthpiece of an empty Heineken. “Won’t be long before bike messengers are completely
extinct.” He lines up his shot, taking aim into the skyline. “Couriers will be replaced by mopeds or what-the-fuck. Wiped
right off the planet.”
“End of an era,” I offer, taking a sip of bourbon, following the burn down my throat.
“At least we were here when the getting was good.”
“The getting was never good.”
“Says you.”
“Says me.”
Deak swings. The club slices through the night. The Heineken bottle shatters into green splinters of glass as the ball launches
into the skyline, cutting through the wind, quickly disappearing into the surrounding darkness. “Hole in one,” he says. “You’re
up.”
The bike club scene is dying. The Quicksilvers . . . gone. The Camel Toes . . . gone. The Richmond Vampires . . . gone, gone, gone. Deader than a fucking dodo, every last one.
Happens nearly every year. Another club bites the dust. Members graduate from RCU and head elsewhere, letting their membership
lapse. Others get married. Find a job.
“You got out just in time,” Deak says. “Sign of the times.”
“Yeah, the end times.”
“So,” Deak says, dragging me back to the rooftop. “Where you been, hoss?”
“I met somebody.” What the fuck am I saying? I instantly regret it the second the words make their way to my mouth.
“Stop the presses. For real?”
“It’s still early days, but . . . yeah. Sort of. We’re still trying to figure out what we are.”
“This girl got a name?”
“You don’t know her.”
“Try me.”
“Lilith.”
“Wait. Bigfoot? You finally found her?”
“She found me.”
“Holy goddamn. When are we gonna meet this mysterious Miss Lilith?”
“When hell freezes over.”
“You’re really gonna do us like that? Keep her all to yourself?”
“Maybe.”
“Why so coy?”
“I don’t want you assholes scaring her off.” More like the other way around, but still.
“I think you’re making her up,” Deak says. “Your very own summer camp girlfriend from Canada. What’s she like?”
“She’s—” evil “—not like anyone I’ve ever really been with before.”
“Do tell.”
“She’s got a wicked sense of humor.”
“Always a bonus.”
“She can drink me under the table.”
“Total bonus.”
“And I think . . .” I hesitate for a second. Maybe it’s the bourbon, but the words bubble out from me before I can stop myself
from saying them. “I think she sees me for who I am. On the inside. And she likes that part of me. I haven’t scared her away.
Yet. It’s so weird but . . . I feel like she understands me? Gets me? Maybe even more than I get myself.”
“Sounds like a keeper. Does she ride?”
“Yeah,” I laugh a bit to myself. “Like a bat out of hell.”
“Marry that woman, STAT.”
“Speaking of which . . .” I twirl the nine iron in my hand, the metal glinting in the dark as it spins. I plant the end of
it into the roof and lean against it, like a debonair aristocrat perching myself upon my own cane. “Anything you wanna share?
Walking down the aisle?”
“Lys told you, huh?”
“Just glad somebody did . . . Congrats, by the way.”
“Thanks,” he says. “Can’t believe it.”
“Big step.”
“Huge.” He leaves it at that for a spell, then, “Never thought I’d go through with it, you know? I thought I could just be
young and stupid forever. Then you took that hit and . . .”
“Death puts everything in perspective, huh?”
“Definitely does,” he says. “The plan for the wedding is to saddle up and ride.”
“Fuck off.”
“Serious. All the groomsmen. Bridesmaids, too. We’re riding in our tuxes, pedaling down to Belle Isle. Tying off a bunch of tin cans to the back of our bikes and all that.”
“Of course you would.”
“This is your notice,” he warns. “You’re my best man, bro. Better get ready to ride.”
“Duly noted.” Deak hasn’t asked me about the Miracle Mile, my failure to finish, which is fine. The horde of knight riders.
The glint of metal is everywhere. I still see spokes spiraling, capturing their own glow off the streetlamps. The frames embrace
the flames.
A year ago, I didn’t have a care in this world. No fear.
Now I’m nothing but fear. I’m afraid of—Jesus, everything. I can’t walk down the street without wondering who’s watching me. What’s staring back. Whenever I enter a bar or bodega—anywhere,
everywhere—all I see is what’s slithering behind the eyes of anyone and everyone around me. Are they possessed, too? The world looks different to me now. Feels different. I don’t trust the touch of anything anymore. They are everywhere now.
I’m seeing demons wherever I go.
“You mind if I take this?” I ask.
“The bottle, or the club?”
“How about both?”
I’m walking back home, dragging the nine iron across the asphalt. The scrape of metal against concrete is oddly soothing.
The sound settles into my teeth.
I polish the bottle off. Toss it. It shatters somewhere in the shadows.
Where’s the line? Why can’t I find my morality anymore?
Find Lilith?
There’s a car parked to my left. How did I get in the middle of the street? I catch a glance of myself in the driver’s side
window. My reflection stretches. Warps. Is my face melting now, too?
Look, just look at me. Who the fuck is that? I can’t make out my eyes, eclipsed in shadows. Is that me? Look at me, all hollow. That’s pretty much how I feel.
Demon. The word is there. At the tip of my tongue. Possessed.
Am I?
Before I know what I’m even doing, I bring up the nine iron and . . .
Glass shatters.
No more reflection. No more hollow-eyed demon staring back at me, grinning that evil fucking grin. No more taunting motherfucker
wearing my face, whispering in my mind.
That’s not me. Not who I am.
You sure about that, pal?
The car alarm sounds like an air raid siren, swallowing all other sound. I sure wish it would silence the voices in my head,
but nope. No dice. I’m stuck with myself.
Next window, please. Batter up . . .
The glass gives so easily. These windows are begging to break. Who am I to deny them? I can’t stop now. Nothing in me wants
to. I saunter down the street, making my way along the row of parked cars before finding one that feels like it’s yearning
to be shattered.
Listen to the world crack. Listen to it shatter.
Is Lilith hearing all this? Hearing me? Might as well call out for her, “Lilith! LILITH!”
These car alarms cry out in a chorus of wails. Every car begs to join the choir. Nothing is stopping me. Even with these sirens
blaring out into the night, filling the streets, nobody comes. No police, no concerned neighbors. Nobody cares. The world
is just going to let it slide, while I’m desperately trying to find the line, the line, where’s the fucking line?
Why doesn’t anyone stop me?
All I want is to break windows. Destroy everything. Watch the whole world burn.
I want Lilith beside me. The two of us basking in the flames, together.