new years

i'm in a cave and i'm looking for light,

need to be saved by the one that i want tonight,

there is no other girl like her that i've seen before,

no other girl like her to which i am asking more.

and i can't can't can't stop this feeling.

and my heart can't can't keep concealing.

i've stolen you and you've stolen me to.

A wink amongst all else

i saw you turn around when you were walking.
you had just passed me by as you were talking to your friend.
and you looked at my eyes and you winked a little wink,
shared a little moment with me.
You shared youself for a moment with me.

That night I thought to myself 'where did that girl go?
What was she doing? What was she like?'
And I would never know, I'd never see you again.
Not on the streets, but just in my head.

It's your 15 minutes of shame

what is fifteen minutes
in a life we are meant to have?
but in that fifteen minutes
i've gone cold.

It's not the most important thing i have noticed,
and doesn't speak of who you've been for me.
But in that fifteen minutes
it brought things to light.

The train wasn't late
and it wasn't that we were early.
I didn't want to miss it,
and you were too busy to stay.
How could you be too busy to stay?

And on that day we'd spoken
about how we were meant to live.
When the words we said had sunk in
I knew they didn't sink to deep.

When you walked away I dropped my head
and put my hands in my pockets.
You didn't look back not once to see me,
and so I waited alone and cold.

The train wasn't late
and it wasn't that we were early.
I didn't want to miss it,
and you were too busy to stay.
How could you be too busy to stay?

I held my ticket in my pocket
when I should have been holding your hand.
How could you be too busy to stay?

Home in a day.

a subtle lunch, subtle hello, a subtle smile, subtle kiss.
the people of this subtle town are suddenly amiss.

the poor star from this poor town poured down like a flame.
the poor people and poor families would never be the same.

lost folks of this lost moment have lost their will to fight.
they've lost some, and lost it all, lost their chances for life.

simple people have a wish.

they found the truth was untruthful, and in truth their town was gone. but the true part of this story, was no one truly wished it on.

i once passed this town, the people passed as quite sheik. now
time has passed and they pass their time being passively discreet.

simple people have a wish.

have a wish on the star that has fallen.
have a wish on the star that fell.

All my Mistakes

shooting all vicious
collections of words,
losers made facts by
the things they have heard,
and I've find myself trying hard
to defend them.

i made decisions
some right and some wrong,
and I've let some love go
i wish wasn't gone.
These things and more I wish I had not done,
but I have done.

But I can't go back,
and I don't want to,
because all my mistakes
have brought me to you.

I had some friends,
they don't know who i am.
so i write quotations
around the word 'friends'
but I have a couple
that have always been there for me.

And I missed some fun
because I've worked through the dawn,
expecting your praise
when I returned home,
but I paid the cost
because I got left all alone
for the songs.

But I can't go back,
and I don't want to
because all my mistakes
have brought me to you.

And i can't go back.
And I don't want to.
Because all my mistakes,
they have brought me to you.

The Brothers Avett

Banning turns two

It was his second birthday. I had bought him a rocking horse. Nin said he was to young for a rocking horse, but I didn't think so. My boy was a strong boy. He was capable of anything at that age. He liked to hide shoes places, Nin and my shoes. We would find them all over the house. Sometimes I would find them on the book shelf, a good two feet higher than he could reach. I never found out how Banning actually made that happen. He was a little wizard, just a magical boy.

Nin had gifted him with a new pair of shoes and a educational shape box, the kind when you have to match up triangle with triangle, square with square, circle with circle. He didn't like the box, but he did like the shaped pieces. Nin was a little sad but I told her he would like the whole gift in time. "You just wait." I told her, "It will be his favorite toy in a month or two." That cheered her up a bit, until he started climbing all over the rocking horse with pleasure drool pouring down his chin.

He fell off twice in about three minutes so Nin declared it was unsafe for him, and she was going to put it away until he was ready. Banning started crying hysterically when Nin tried to take it away. I knew Nin didn't like being the bad guy, it's funny how the 'bad guy' can easily be translated to the caring, protective parent. So I stopped her, and I took it away from Banning. He wouldn't look at me for an hour after that, and when he did it was a terrible face to see. His eyes all squinting and mouth straight across. He new his angry face quite well.

I told Nin that since I had to take the rocking horse away, that I would like to be the one to give him his birthday cake, so maybe I could score some birthday points with him. He saw right through it. He liked the cake and all, but he knew I was still the same guy that took his rocking horse away. He was a smart little bugger.

Nin had to help him blow out his two little candles. Nin was a fan of number candles, you know if you're turning twenty five she would want a candle shaped like a two and one shaped like a five. Not me I would put twenty five different candles, there is just more to lick the cake off of after. So she let me put two candles in the cake instead of a number two candle. After Nin and he blew them out he stuck his hands right into the frosting and grabbed a big handful. Well, a big handful for his little hands. Banning was a mess by the time he was done with that cake, actually, when Nin thought he should be done with it. She didn't want him to spoil his appetite on sweets. She was a great mom.

That night I read him his favorite book. It was a book called 'Harold and the Purple Crayon'. I'm not sure why he liked it so much because he really didn't understand it at all, but I think he liked it because it was small. Bannings second favorite book was 'The Hungry Caterpillar' because he really liked bugs. He fell asleep leaning against me in his bed. Nin was at the door watching us. "I think he forgives you Dacklin." "I hope so. He looked pretty upset earlier." "Thank you for being the bad guy." "Thank you for being you."

I tucked Banning in. Put in his night light. I turned off the light to his room, and then I took his mother to bed. Nin fell asleep almost instantly. Birthdays are long days for moms. She rubbed her bare feet on my calves. She always had cold feet when she jumped into bed, and I always had warm legs to rub them on. It was a great day for a great family.

In memory.

The song begins. Focused on a tree swing.

There is a man. He is sitting at a bar with a half empty pint of beer on the bar in front of him. He is mostly sad. No. He is all sad. He puts his head on the bar. His hands are clenched above his head.


There is a girl. She is lovely. She wears black most of the time. She even wears black lipstick. Her fingernails are always pink. Bright pink.


They are together, when they were together. It was months. Love was full in both of them. They are holding hands and walking down a street. A street they walk down every evening. She is in black. He has slacks and a t-shirt on. With a winter hat with long ear flaps. She likes his hat.


He's back in the bar. His hands are still clenched above his head. He is still all sad. The barkeep taps the bar and wags his finger at him. The barkeep doesn't notice his tears.

The moon is no where to be seen. The stars are bright because of it. He's sitting on a rock. She is standing between his legs. They kiss hard. They are in a bedroom. There are three candles in the room. they kiss hard again.


Her ex boyfriend saw them kiss. He is jealous. Filled with it. He hates the man.


He steps up from the bar and turns to leave. He bumps into another bar patron, who drops his drink. The other man turns. Before he could apologize he is punched. He goes down. The pain was no match for his pain, but he stayed lying there for a few moments. He stands up and leaves.

She is sitting on the toilet. He is holding her hand when she sees the pink positive. She cries and smiles. He smiles. A good hug occurs.


He's on his knees in front of the grave stone. He has on black pants. He has on a black shirt. He has black lipstick on. He has on a pink tie. He cries. He has a gun in his hand.


She is lying on the street. The car is beside her. He is beside her. He's holding her hand when she dies.


He keeps two bullets in the chamber and spins it. He closes the chamber. He puts the gun to his head. Her picture is leaning on the grave. He pulls the trigger. Nothing.


He's on the ground next to the crib. He's bent and broken. One arm up on the crib. One hand on the floor. His head is not held high. He weeps.


He pulls the trigger again. Nothing. He shakes his head. He throws the gun behind him. He looks at the gravestone. He looks at her picture. He looks at the sun. He doesn't smile, but he wants to.


The figure behind him bends over and picks up the gun. Her ex-boyfriend puts it to his head. He closes his eyes. Her ex boyfriend pulls the trigger. Nothing. His eyes open. Her ex-boyfriend pulls the trigger for a second time. Everything. His head falls near her picture. There is blood on the picture.


It all fades out with her ex-boyfriend on a tree swing. The gun hanging low in his left hand. Her picture in his right.


The song ends in the fade out.

December 22nd, 2009.

Well, it was a good day. Not one filled with anguish, not a sad day, no one I know died or told me they hated me. No one decided steal anything from me. So it was pleasant. I didn't wake up early, I haven't been lately. I'm not sure if I like or dislike the fact I've been sleeping in. I love the mornings. I love to see the sun rise and be busy before everyone else clears the sleep from their eyes. Not lately though, lately I've been starting my days later and later.

I could spend more time with my friends here if I woke up earlier. I could spend more time with Cat and her brother Dave. There should be no buts, but, there is a but, I get to spend time during the day and most nights with them. I think I'll start waking up earlier again though soon, so I can make the most of my time here, in a place I've always wanted to visit, with one of the best people in the world.

So, I woke up, and my computer said it was 11.30, which really meant it was 10.30, which is still a late start, not nearly as late as a few days before. That day after a brief morning wake up and after going outside for a breath of fresh air, I had a sip of Sangiovese, Cat forced me to have the last sip of makers Mark, and I fell back asleep until 1.00. I didn't get out of bed though till closer to five. I've been doing that a lot lately, waking up, but instead of getting up and being alive, I've been turning on my computer and just messing around for however long I want to. I guess it's my way to get in touch with friends, and keep in touch with people I want to keep in touch with.

After an hour or so of computer correspondence I decided I finally needed to make it to a post office because I have about 7 post cards to still send out. That didn't happen, there is always tomorrow, which was today, which I didn't do again. there is always tomorrow, even though more than 3/4 of post workers have gone on strike. Just before Christmas, deadly timing. So, Cat and I went for a drive to a beer brewing store. We purchased some stuff to make homemade beer and went back home. We made the brew, the first of two, and it is in the shed doing it's thing.

We then, Cat, Dave, and I made ourselves some delicious burritos, i had three myself and vegged out for a little while. Then we were off to a tab (gambling bar) to play some free pool, it's free there on Mondays and Tuesdays. Em, a very wonderful roommate came along for the fun. Dave and I were a pair, and Cat and Em were a pair, and a good one. They beat us three straight games, so we let them drink a few more pints. then Dave and I won four straight games to win 4 out of 7. But It started 2 out of 3 and then had to move to 3 out of 5, and then finished with the idea, Dave's idea, of 4 out of 7. And they thought they would get the better of us. I don't think so.

After pool, we returned to 32 Bradley Ave, the scene of living, and had a few more beers. Cat and Em decided to call it a night, but Dave and I were feeling a bit crazed so we started messing around a bit. Now if you haven't met Dave you should, he is one hell of a funny guy. A good guy as well. First he climbed on top of the hills hoist, that is a circular, metal clothes line, and I tried to convince him it would be a good idea to jump from it to the walnut tree because he would have a better view of Melbourne from the walnut tree. Actually now that I remember Cat was still there because she thought it not such a hot idea so Dave respectfully declined. So, we decided to climb up on the roof instead.

It took Dave a few moments to get himself stuck halfway (half of is body mind you) on the roof. I jumped up from a different spot and then dragged him the rest of the way on. We then traveled across the tin roof of the shed and onto the clay roof of the house. The tin roof was very noisy. We watched Melbourne for a little while and then we retreated back to ground level. But when I had just leaped from the roof to the lawn Cat's neighbor turned his lights on and came outside. I thought to be sneaky so I just lay flat on the lawn absolutely silent, and Dave did the same on the roof. Cat just stood there looking at us like we were idiots. We were. The only thing I got out of my sneaky lying down on the lawn was dirt marks on my shirt.

The night had begun for us, and ended for Cat. Dave and I decided it would be the best idea to go on a walk. And I'm telling you it was, for me at least, poor Dave just walked along listening to my blabbering about life and where I am in it. He makes for a good listener, and also gave some good advice. I think. We walked for a while and then came to a fence. Dave thought it best we climb over it. SO we did. then there was another fence. Again we conquered the metal beast. And there we were, on a golf course.

Dave guessed we were on the 15th green so he stole the flag and we walked up the next fairway to the next green. That is where I found my weapon, i mean my flag. And the stage was set. A thin sliver of a moon in the southern sky, an even battlefield of soft but firm grass, which made for excellent footing. The fencing match began. We fenced, and talked while fencing, for a while. I think we both won, or we both lost, but hell it was fun. We thought about bringing the flags back with us but then we thought Cat would probably not be pleased, neither would the golf course, and we would look a bit conspicuous walking the roads home with two big flags as walking sticks. We returned the flags and walked more of the course until we found another fence.

We scaled that fence and then found ourselves in a private neighborhood, what luck. We walked about until we found the entrance way and at the entrance way found a welcome sign. I picked it up and placed it on top of the rock gate entrance way so that people could see it better, you know from a higher place. Then Dave lead us on a round about walk back to the house. We found a giant warehouse of which we argued about if it was a fire station or a giant cleaning service for clothing. We pretended to break in through some windows until we figured out that we really could break in, so we continued to run a way like scared little kids for a while after that. Then I kicked a brick wall, which hurt my foot. And then we were back at the house. Good old 32 Bradley. Bedtime after that. A huge glass, or mug as I do it, of water and sweet dreams on a fine December 22nd, 2009.

I forgot to say this. Earlier in the day Cat, Dave, and I made an awesome video that is now on facebook if anyone is interested.

So I enjoyed my day. Dave laid on the lawn for the most part of the day trying not to die, and Cat and I watched some amazing old films from my childhood. Flight of the Navigator, and Mac and Me. I swear, anyone who is reading this should check those two movies out, they are PHENOMENAL.

Go back to your lives.

As new as the truth.

I've left words out when I tell you
how much life that I could give you.
If you walk in front of me I could tell you you look so pretty,
And if you stop for me to see you,
I could tell you yes you're pretty.

I've waited a lifetime to let you know that
it's just you that heats my kettle.
I've given up on lying to you that you're
a girl that makes me whistle a song that i could hear
from now until the day I settle.

If I go sailing I'll need your wind girl
to take me from near to far.
This young gust you can give to me,
it will get us anywhere.

I hear you humming I hear you singing.
Is that a tune you wrote for every
time we've spent away from each other,
or every time we've spent subtly?

I see your face and sometimes see you crying,
those tears I hope they don't fall for me.
If I had to hurt you I'd start my dying
and nothing would stop me from my misery.

If I go sailing I'll need your wind girl
to take me from near to far.
This young gust you can give me,
it will get us anywhere.

I know your name I know your face girl,
it keeps me warm in times of struggle.
I've been waiting years to tell you
No one else could make me humble.

If I go sailing I'll need your wind girl
to take me from near to far.
This young gust you can give me,
it will get us anywhere.

Give me a fireplace to put you,
give me a chance so that I could show you,
any fire would burn much brighter
If you're a light then I'd be lighter,
than anything you could bring to me.
And any one that I can be
is just a man that's giving all he
has to give so please just have me.

If I go sailing I'll need your wind girl
to take me from near to far.
This young gust you can give me,
it will get us anywhere.

Hey Einin. Let's light our fire.

"I've known you once but met you twice now,
and my old heart it's hurting,
i could leave a life of leisure looming,
to have this choice be certain.

I've asked for nothing
but I've been given chance,
if i could ask for one thing today
it be as simple as a dance.

Please let us make a picture,
we could have any stone go moving
for us, we could make the ocean shake and dance a bit,
we could break the world in two.

Whisper sweetly through the nighttime.
Wake up drowsy but glad to have had it,
teary eyed we said goodbye,
till the time we have to share it.

I took initials and made it clever,
my lovely girl you have given
a second chance to make a third,
that's a day I shall be waiting.

Please let us make a picture,
we could have any stone go moving
for us, we could make the ocean shake and dance a bit,
we could break the world in two.

Simple words can mean so little
till the time I have to show you
how I want that subtle smile
to mend this man that's torn in two.

Please let us make a picture,
we could have any stone go moving
for us, we could make the ocean shake and dance a bit,
we could break the world in two."

It was my favorite song to sing. It was the first song Nin and I had ever danced to. It was the song we danced to at our wedding. It was our song. And It was on the radio when I was driving home from the station. I had made a decision. It was time to get my life back. to get my wife back. To have Nin's love again.

I'm not much of a singer, actually I have a horrible voice, but Nin always said she liked it when I sang, especially when I sang to her. There is something in me when i sing, I can't just sing the song, I have to put everything I need to into the song. I even make stupid little faces and clench my fists sometimes when I feel like I should. It just doesn't feel right not to try and express myself through the songs. That's why I do not do karaoke anymore. I tend to be one of those people who try to hard and just look like a damn fool. But, as I said Nin likes it when I sing. I like it as well.

I had been thinking about our relationship so much lately, and I could conclude one thing. God, I loved her. Relationships seem to be a push and pull of things. I'm sure we all know that. But beyond that, I like to see them as a fire. At first it burns hot and bright, it could burn you right up. You let it burn so nicely, then you find yourself enjoying the coals. It's still so warm and comforting, but doesn't always need to be so brilliantly out of control. But if you neglect those coals, even for a moment, they could go out. You need to feed it, throw something that makes you feel the fire again. Throw that new piece of life right on those coals and burn the hell out of your hearts again for a while. Nin and I, we had let the coals burn down, but I would never let them suffocate themselves. I needed to rekindle our marriage, our relationship, our love.

How the hell could I do that? I know her better than anyone. Better than her parents and her sisters. Better than her whole family. She is my wife. I should know how to be what she needs, what we need. I parked my car in the driveway and saw that there was a light on. She was still awake. It was nearly six in the morning, what was she still doing awake? It was a Thursday, she didn't work on Thursdays.

Before I could open the door Nin opened it from the inside. She was crying. When she saw me she started crying more and then threw herself at me. She wrapped her arms around my neck and cried into my chest. Then she kissed me with her tear soaked face and lips. "Hey there darling. What's wrong?" "I just had a bad feeling about tonight. I had a dream you didn't come home. You are two hours late." "Yeah. I'm sorry Nin, there was a bad accident tonight. Three people died over on Antsole Rd." She started crying more now and hugged me harder.

"It's OK love. I'm here now." "I don't want you to leave me again. I don't want to leave you either." "I left my job tonight. Nin, I quit tonight. I think we need to be closer together again." "Could we, please?" "Look at me." Her tears made her eyes look beautiful. "We are."

Dacklin makes a decision

My wife had been upset at me for the few months before Banning, the dog, and the car happened. the day I lost myself. She told me I was spending less and less time with her and more with Banning. She told me that she felt I didn't love her enough. She told me she needed more from me. Maybe I knew it was going to happen. Maybe that's why my wife felt I was spending so much time with Banning. Maybe I knew it was our last days together. I can't say I did, if I did I would have stopped it. If I knew it would have never happened. I told her "maybe I just love my son."

Losing Banning tore us apart, and at the same time pulled us closer. Einin Keela was and is my wife. She is one of two girls in the most Irish family I have ever met, outside of Ireland of course. I call her Nin. She is the freshest and most radiant person I have ever seen. We met just after high school. I was dating Eileen Peterson at the time, my first girlfriend. Eileen and I had been together for two years, but it hadn't been going so well as of late. Eileen and I were out shopping. I wasn't shopping, just tagging along with her. She was looking for shoes for her brother's wedding. He was six years older than her, Haidan Peterson, and his wedding was a few weeks away. I had been invited as Eileen's date.

That's when I saw her. I was sitting on a bench outside of a fancy shoe store where Eileen was. She was with two of her friends next to a pretzel shop. She wasn't eating a pretzel though, both of her friends were, but she wasn't. She was chewing gum, and boy could she chew gum. I don't know what came over me, I walked straight up to her and said hello. I payed no attention to her friends, and she told me a few months later they thought I was very rude because I didn't acknowledge them. "Hi, I'm Dacklin." "Hello, my name is Einin. Einin Keela." That's all it took for me.

Two weeks later Eileen and I were no more. I didn't go to her brother's wedding. Two and a half weeks later Einin and I went on our first date. Three weeks later we had our first kiss. Eight weeks later I told her I loved her. Two years later I told her I was going to marry her, and made her a promise. Five years later I kept that promise. I married the most beautiful and delicate twenty five year old Irish girl in all the world.

The first three years of our marriage we spent traveling a little, but then got down to real life stuff. We bought a house. A nice two story colonial with three bedrooms, two and a half baths, a basement, a garage, and a deck out back. It had a front and rear lawn. I joined the Fairfield Police Department and Einin started a stationary and print store. She loved little artsy things like that. She loved being able to provide to people so that they could create things.

Einin was the person who got me through my mother's death, and also my fathers. It wasn't my brothers, it was Einin, she was the closest and most important person to me at the time. She still is. She had never lost anyone important to her, not her grandparents, nor parent, nor friends or even close family members, but she knew how to talk to me, how to comfort me, how to give me what I needed. To me, that is the definition of love, being everything you can be for somebody else.

She really did know how to comfort me. Four weeks after my father's passing Einin and I found out we were going to have a child. Just under nine months later, on March 22nd, we had Banning. We loved him so much, the both of us. We loved each other, we loved our family. We loved going shopping for toys, and going on picnics, and getting Banning his first puppy, the chubby little Mr. Pops, and watching movies together while Banning fell asleep between the two of us. It was a life worth having. Four years later on June 26th at the age of four years, three months, four days, six hours, and about eleven minutes Banning was killed by that car. It tore us apart, but pulled us closer than ever.

I attempted to use alcohol and my job to get through it. It was the worst thinking I had ever done. The worst idea I had ever had. The cruelest thing I could ever do. After my full breakdown, and weeks of inebriated mourning, and after going straight back to work to try and occupy my mind away from my life Einin found me, took me home, and we cried together for weeks. It wasn't just I that had lost a son, it was the both of us, and I was too selfish to instantly realize that. Not only did Einin lose a son, the first person she had ever lost, the first person ever cruelly taken from her, but she lost the person who she loved the most, me. I wasn't there for her like she was for me. I never forgave myself for that, but she forgave me. I don't know how she had it in her heart to, but the lovely thing did. It's sad to admit it, but it was the loss of Banning that reminded me how much Einin meant. How much the two of them were everything to me. How much she was everything.

A few years later, for some reason things didn't feel right between us. I had been working more for the Fairfield Police Department, longer shifts, we hadn't even talked about having another child in the past year, Einin had thought about moving her store location to another town, it was just an uneasy time in our life. When Einin told me that she wanted to separate I died inside. I couldn't believe it. I didn't know how to deal with it and went straight to work. I thought of our life so far, and of Banning, and how could it be you could love someone so much but not continually show them that you do, and show them so that they knew it. I handed out more citations in that one night than I had in any week.

It took me three days to figure out what I wanted to say. I didn't say it how I wanted to. We didn't end up separating but the next two years just dragged by with the both of us trying to love one another, but not ever really being in love. It was the worst two years of our relationship. Two long, sad years. She didn't really want to separate, she just wanted things to be better. They weren't. That's when those kids died at the intersection of Antsole Rd. and Victoria Avenue. That's the night I decided to get my life back together.

Memories of a father

It had always been difficult speaking with my father, and being around him for long periods at a time. My father's name was Liam Hanskead. He passed away when I was thirty, just five months after my mother had passed. My mother, Gretchen Keering Hanskead ended her own life by walking in front of a passenger bus. I blamed my father. Now my son can blame me.

Two months before he died we finally got answers from his doctors. He needed a transplant of the liver. He was evaluated but was put on a waiting list. He was a number. He was rated and qualified as 'not in urgent need.' Ratings come from financial ability and donor status and compatibility. The doctors misdiagnosed his need.

The more I think about it, the more I can remember him in the early stages of his ailments. We didn't know they were symptoms at the time, no one did. It turns out his liver began breaking down some ten years prior because of something called encephalopathy, which is an increase on portal hypertension, or at least that's what I got out of it. We didn't know what was wrong with him for the longest time. It seemed like everyday stress, having a job he didn't like, worries of a second mortgage and three kids finishing schooling, real life stresses. He was changing in front of us and we didn't even know why.

It turns out it was his liver and the fact that it was slowly, but surely, breaking down. His personality changed, he never seemed the same for more than a week at a time, even daily he would fluctuate. That's what drove my mother crazy the most. It wasn't the temporary aggressiveness and short temperance, and it wasn't that he seemed more and more confused about things. He would focus on certain things, certain ideas of memories of our family, some of which never happened at all. It's called 'rewriting' the past in a way that focuses the mind for the body, but just separates the person from reality. It wasn't the focusing on these false memories, and the constant attention and insistence on small and inconsequential matters either that set my mother into fits, it was personality changes, an almost pseudo dementia or trans fixation on exact personal traits. He would just change overnight it seemed, and sometimes he'd come back, but then he would go again, mentally, in a total opposite direction.

My brothers were mostly put off by his memory loss. They couldn't bare hearing stories over and over and over. They stopped laughing at the jokes that always came, the same jokes told infinite times so that they were more commonplace than entertaining. It was a slowly progressive disease, and it slowly tore us apart.

By the time the doctors had figured it out it was too late without the transplant. He was just a number though. A number on a waiting list. Medications wouldn't help, nothing could help, not even faith.

The last time I spoke with him he was insistent on planning a vacation together for the following summer. He told me that he wanted the whole family, including my mother who had passed, to go to Mexico for a ski vacation. He wanted to go to Mexico in the summer with my dead mother on a skiing vacation. I would say he was a bit confused in his last few weeks. Then he told me a joke. I had heard it a good two hundred or so times from him, but it always got a rise out of me. And then out of nowhere he told me he loved me and that he meant it. After that he went quiet for a minute, and it seemed to me that he was thinking about what he had just said. He blinked twice and then told me he wanted to plan a vacation all over again. He died three hours later with just me at his side. My other two brothers were still on their flights coming into see him.

You are suppose to bury your father, not your son. Not your healthy, smart, beautiful son.

Dacklin has a drink

"Hey Dack! What the hell have you been up to? I haven't seen you in ages." Well, to be honest with this guy, Aimon Baird, I wasn't in the best of moods. i wasn't in the best of times actually. My life had just fallen apart a week before. I could tell this guy my son had just died. I could have told him my wife had threw me out of our house the same day we buried him. I could have told him my life was over. I wasn't there to talk though, I was there to drink, actually, to get beyond drunk, to a place where you're allowed to forget everything, including yourself. What I said was simple. "Well life isn't always what you expect it. I didn't expect seeing you for starters. Buy me a drink." "Sure Dack. Let's get that drink. It's on me." "I know."

That was the night. And the next two weeks. I lived at a co-workers house. Officer S. Gerard. He was single so he didn't have to ask his wife. He let me sleep on his couch. I was given leave from the police force, a three week bereavement leave for the loss of my son. Three weeks. Three weeks because I lost most of what was dear to me. the most important person in my life. I had lost my son, and it was my fault. I never told my wife I had taken the time off, I didn't want to see her, well, I did I always want to see her, but I know I can be stubborn, so when she doesn't want me, I tell myself I don't want her.

It's interesting to me what people can go through and get through in life. I don't fully believe that there are moments in your life that you can get over, actually I fully believe some things you could never get over, and I don't really believe you can fully get through them, but I do know, for some reason, we have the ability to move on. i don't like that concept, the concept of moving on. It makes me feel like I'm giving up on the belief of something, giving up on the memory of something, or someone. I will never give up on my boy. I will never forget him. I will remember every word he said. I will remember every step he ever took. i will remember everything. I will never forget Banning. He was so small, so fair, so ready for a great and fortunate life. All he needed was someone who could look after him, to take care of him. Someone to be better for him. He needed a father. I had failed at that. That's something I will never get over, never get through. I failed my son. that is on me.

Officer D. Hanskead's last call

It was almost beautiful how they were laying there. They were holding hands. I later came to find out they were meant to be married a few days later. There were three dead, one in his vehicle, and the other two just off the left side of the road near an old pine tree. The driver of the other car was in good condition, he was being consoled by the other man in the accident. They were together in the back of the ambulance. The driver was in a wheelchair, and the other guy, Reginald Polke, was in a stretcher. He had a broken leg, a few broken ribs, and a pretty smashed up face, or that's what the first EMT's on the scene had described it for me. I couldn't figure out why the other two victims, the male and the female, were under the tree.

I was looking through the back seat of one of the cars, a silver Subaru Station wagon. There was some blood in the front seat. The passenger airbag had not deployed. The driver's side airbag had. There was a picnic basket in the back seat and there were cards scattered everywhere in the backseat. Black and white pictured cards.

It had been my second call of the night. The first was to assist in a possible DUI over on Glensdale Ave. on the east side of town. It turned out the driver had not been under the influence of alcohol or drugs, but was just uncooperative with Officer Plasket. That was two hours ago. It was nearly eleven o'clock now. I still had another four hours left of my shift. This had been one of the worst collisions in the last three years. Three dead, one stable but in need of hospital, and one absolutely hysterical man in a wheelchair. He told me his name was Rowland, and that it was his brother and his brother's fiancee that were dead under the tree. He was pretty broken up about the the situation. I could understand why.

He told me that his brother and his brother's fiancee were on top of the car when the collision occurred. I couldn't understand why they were on top of the car, to me it seemed senseless and just irresponsible for all those involved. He told me the other car pulled out in front of him at the intersection. After later testing, the man was deemed not under the influence and it was determined that he had been driving within the legal speed limit. The actions of the people within his vehicle were illegal, riding on the roof of a moving vehicle, but the state wished to take no further action against him. He had suffered the loss of his brother, his last direct family relative, and as he put it, his best friend.

It took three hours to get the scene cleared and that part of the road opened back up to public traffic. I had to go back to the station and fill out the official reports. It took me nearly four hours of paperwork closing documentation before I could move on from the collision case. By then I hadn't wanted to. After reading some of the cards in the back of that car, and thinking about my wife, I had made my decision. I had been thinking about it for the past eight months and the three fatalities that night had helped me make up my mind. I was leaving the Fairfield Police Department. My wife and I needed time to sort our life back out, for a second time. This time I couldn't use my position on the police force to distract me from what needed to be done.

After discovering the identity of the male victim on the side of the road I had realized I had pulled him over over a year before. I never forgot a citation. I remember quite vividly the situation. He had done an illegal turn across a double yellow line on Antsole Rd. and subsequently had a small collision with an animal. It was about one a.m. in the morning. I remember his excuse for the illegal driving maneuver was 'love' and it hit a nerve. I'm not meant to have my personal life affect my profession but earlier that evening my wife had told me she wanted to separate. I cited the victim for aggressive and reckless driving. I could see now he wasn't lying, or at least I hope he wasn't lying. At least they died holding hands.

I don't believe in fate, but I did think it was interesting that the first of the black and white cards that I read was addressed to the victims brother, Rowland. There was a printed poem on the inside of the card. It seemed personal, as did the picture that had been printed on the front of it had. On the inside left page of the card it said 'Rowland. You are the best. There could never be a better brother and brother-in-law. You will always be in our hearts, and in the downstairs of our house. We love you. Love. Miisha and Steady.' They were all like that. the pictures and the poems were all different but the sentiment was usually the same. The couple seemed happy. I think they would have had a nice marriage.

Steady. Steady and Miisha. They must have been known as Steady and Miisha amongst their friends. The names didn't make sense to me because in my reports the deceased went as Ambrose Sloane Norris and April Sadie Nathek. Those were their given birth names. They had the same initials. They must have talked about that all of the time. They must have thought it was funny. Maybe they thought it was fate.

I remember being upset that night I pulled Ambrose over. My wife had told me that she wanted to separate. I remember I scolded him. I tried to threaten him. I told him that the animal could have been a child. It was one in the morning. No child should have ever been out that late at night. No good parent should let their child out that late at night. he probably thought I was nuts or something.

That's how my kid died. He was hit by a car at ten o'clock in the morning on a Saturday. He was chasing our dog into the street. I was ten feet away from him when he was struck by the car. I should have been a better father. I should have protected him better. He was only four years old. My name is Hanskead. It was Officer D. Hanskead. Now it's just Hanskead. Dacklin Hanskead.

Purples and Golds

All these desolate days
and promises made,
I'm quite certain they don't mean a damn thing.
I can't give back the nights
or take back the fights,
and I can't forget this damn ring
and the sadness it brings.

All the purples and golds
the to have's and to hold's
are no longer a part of my life.
I'll walk on alone
to my own lifeless throne
because I've lost my will to survive.

When I hum out a tune
from June until June
I'm giving out my last goodbyes
to the sun and the moon
and the flowers that bloom.
I'm coming back girl, to your side.

The fire still burns
and this god damn world turns
with one last cursed soul to provide.
All our secrets and touches
I miss you so much kid.
I hope you hear my last dying cry.

All the purples and golds
the to have's and to hold's
are no longer a part of my life.
I'll walk on alone
to my own lifeless throne
because I've lost my will to survive.

It's easy what we dream of.
It's easy to lose it all.

It's sad that she is so happy

It's sad that she's so happy.
It's sad that she's so happy.
It's sad that she's so happy
with me.

Well I sank the lifeboat of the fathers
snatched the necklace from the mothers
and coveted your lovely daughters.
I stole her for me.

We've found the circumstance unwanted.
Authorities have claimed me hunted.
But they will never find our bodies
because we are innocent on our own.

We've talked about it and don't give a damn.
We stole these moments for ourselves.
They can steal them back if they're intended.
They'll need to fight for it.

In the end we'll need each other.
Hate each other for the running.
Hate your father.
Hate your mother.
Love the family that we've started.

We'll sink the boats
and steal our futures.

Life is just a moment.
A short breathe between love and death.

And I'll love you till the day die.
And I'll love you when I'm dead and gone.

Miisha loses a tap shoe

It had been the best Wednesday of my life, so far. Hell, it had been the best three years of my life. I had been there to see my brother commit himself to something and push himself at life for the first time since his crash. I had realized exotic dreams don't make life, well, life, but it's found in the simplest places and in the best people. I had forgiven my parents for leaving us so young. I had met a girl, and for some reason she loved me. I had loved her back.

I could go on for ages about how much Rowland had meant to me, and how much I would miss our time at the docks. I could write a book about about how much Polkie was of the greatest sort of friends, the one's who know to leave you when you need to be left and know to be there when you need them. Only the best of friends. I could die three times over telling you how much love I have for Miisha, and how I would kill to see her just one more time. But. I won't. Love dies. She dies. I die.

Before the last of us died it was Miisha that gave one last chortle of defiance to the night. And as it went into the night and into the ears of all who were listening, it changed nothing. Not one thing. It was a beautiful way to die though, like an honorary death at the end of a good war movie, but it wasn't a movie, and death was final. I was glad to be the last of us who heard her final cry. She said, simply, "Life."

That is what she always hoped for and that is what she always gave me. Life. I just hope I gave her the same. It had been ten minutes into our flight. She had kissed me a hundred times over already and I had done the same to her. I had my arm and part of my body over hers, it was the only way we would fit on the roof, and it made me feel like I was protecting her, even though I couldn't. We were less than two minutes from Leonards and about to pass the second to last intersection. It was a bad intersection, blind coming up over a hill.

There were no goodbyes to Polkie and Rowland from the two of us, but they knew they were in our hearts. There was no docks later that night, even though Rowland brought me there every Thursday morning in the form of a picture, a picture of Miisha and me, until he died fourteen years later at the age of forty one. He died at the docks. Two kids shot him and stole his wallet. He had thirty seven dollars in it and a picture of his wife. There was no wedding, even though Rowland asked people to wear their wedding outfits to the funeral, which most of them did. There were no apologies and absolutely no regrets.

Twelve seconds before it happened I told Miisha I could die that day and I would have had a happy life. "Please don't! I need you!" We had to yell to hear one another. She had never looked so perfect as she did right then. "Miisha. How much do you love me?!" " A LOT!!" "That's not enough!." We were going to kiss when it happened. We never did get that last kiss.

Sheridan was the one that hit us, or he was pulling out when Rowland hit him on the drivers side. He died upon collision, broken neck. He had forgotten the present and was running late back to Leonards because he had to drive back and pick it up. He always wanted things right for people. He was always looking out, that's why people liked him so much. We were both on top of the car when it happened. Rowland was driving. Polkie was in the passenger seat.

I could feel her on what was left of my right arm and torso. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't even feel anything to breathe from. I could just see her. The back of her head. Her legs were all twisted and one of her tap shoes was gone. When she turned to look at me blood came down from her nose, from her hair between her eyes, and spilled from the right corner of her mouth. Somehow she grabbed for my left hand. Somehow I gave it to her. She held it the way she does. The blood from her hair started to run over her lazy eye and drip from its lashes. She didn't blink once. She just looked at me, bloody, brokenly, and with all the love of the world.

"Life." It changed nothing, but it was everything.

I fly with Miisha

"You can't hold on forever Miisha." "Oh yes you can. I will. I'll show you you can." "It was a dream Miisha. Look. I am fine." "Please don't go today. Today you shouldn't leave me. Not today." I could see in her eyes she was scared. Her hands were shaking as she held mine. Her whole body was tense and worried. She felt cold. "Miisha I would never leave you. Especially not today." I had to call Rowland and tell him that we wouldn't be working today. He was fine with it. So was Polkie. "We'll see you tonight then, at Leonards?" "Yeah Rowland. Hey do you and Polkie want to have dinner with us? We were going to eat at the house." "It's not finished." "I know Rowland. I'm there everyday. Miisha and I are setting it up on the outdoor table." "Sure man. Sounds good." "Oh and Rowland don't take Polkie's truck, take your car." "Whatever."

I made Miisha a huge breakfast with eggs, and toast, muffins, and juice, a piece of blueberry pie, bacon, and a grapefruit. I needed to go to the store for milk, so the eggs would be fluffy, a trick my mother taught me when I was younger. "I'm coming with you." "Miisha it's suppose to be breakfast in bed. You are suppose to stay in bed." "I'll get back in bed when we get back. I promise." I rolled my eyes at her and she mouthed 'please' back to me. She would always win. I'm glad she never figured it out, but she was too damn wonderful to say no to. I shook my head no, but I was smiling and she knew she had me. "Good. Let me get some clothes and grab an umbrella." "Miisha it's not raining. Actually there is not one cloud in the sky." I stuck my head to the window to make sure I wasn't lying. I do not like to lie. I wasn't. "I know but it looks good with my shoes." She had me there. It did look good with her shoes. Tap shoes. She winked her crooked little eye at me and gave me a glancing kiss. She put her tap shoes on before her clothes. She drives me mad.

On the way to the store for milk she made me stop and buy her flowers. We were walking and passed a little flower stand. I would have bought them anyway. "Flowers for the soon to be Mrs. Me." "I know. Two more days and I will be Mrs. You. Well. Mrs. Miisha You." "I'd tell you to keep your own surname, but I don't know it Miisha. And I don't care." "Well you will have to. My parents are flying in tomorrow. We are meeting them at their hotel. You'll know then." I handed her her flowers and she smelled every last one of them. I only bought her two. She blushed anyhow. She would do that. Even though she knew she would get them, she would show her thanks with a blush and a kiss.

When we returned to her apartment I made her go straight back to bed. She refused and stood behind me and wrapped her arms around my waste. Her head only came up to the bottom of my shoulders, and she rested it there for a while whilst I chopped up vegetables and scrambled eggs. She raised her hands to my chest. I touched the back of her hands lightly, at first, and then pulled her left hand slowly down, and put it on the counter. "If you don't go to bed Miisha I'm going to chop these little fingers off and cook them with the eggs." "Go for it. I don't need them." "Miisha please go." "Nope you're stuck with me. Forever." "If you don't go back to bed I won't give you your present later." "Yes you will. Don't lie." She was right I would. The present was for the both of us, but she didn't know that. And it wasn't a lie because she knew it wasn't a real threat. Technically it was lie, but we both knew it. "Fine. I'm going to bed then, and you can cook." Before I could even turn around she was running for the bed. I heard the puff and flutter of the sheets when she jumped in. Then she called "No way you promised me breakfast in bed!"

She ate everything except the grapefruit. I knew she didn't like them. Anyhow, I cut it up for myself. Grapefruit was one of my favorite foods to eat. I think because Rowland hated them. I didn't like them at first, but when I knew Rowland hated them I forced myself to like them until I actually did. Man, a fresh grapefruit with some raw sugar sprinkled over top, forcing every little wedge of meat out with a spoon, then drinking the juice out and getting little sugar crystals on the corners of your mouth and licking them off, grapefruit is great.

"That was delicious Sir. Thank you." "You are most welcome Miisha. Now finish your juice." I knew she wouldn't. She never finished the last sip of any drink. It wasn't because she thought it was full of spit or anything, or that it was considered rude to finish it completely because it showed she wasn't given enough, it was because she liked to pour the last of everything down the drain. She said that drains were lazy and she was just helping them stay in a finer form. She would have been the reason my kids wouldn't watch television when they were young, so they could be interesting and playfully entertaining, and so damn awkwardly cute. "Yeah right. That fat old drain hasn't done anything in days. No thanks to you wanting to eat food out all the time."

She was right. I loved to cook, and make fancy foods, and entertain people with fine dining and foreign wines and beer, but only on occasion. I absolutely enjoyed having someone else cook and entertain for me, and Miisha wasn't top chef, and she knew it, so we went out a good amount of the time. We were both pub people, greasy burgers or nachos, potato wedges or chili, all the foods that are suppose to make you fat but just make you feel good. Although, we did enjoy spiffing up a bit, well I did, Miisha always dressed nicely for everything, or at least dressed in something that the majority around us wouldn't wear. I liked to look nice if I could pull it off. We would go to fancy restaurants sometimes and order the most expensive food and priciest bottles of wine for a kick. I would wear a nice suit, or even rent a nicer suit if I really felt like shining. I would never really shine though, not next to her. At least not to me.

Miisha liked it when I wore a scarf, preferably a brown or dark green scarf, they were her two favorite colors. She said it made me look like a real gentleman, like from the twenties. She asked me if I would wear a scarf to dinner. I told her only if we could dress up real fancy. She said only if she could wear my coat and I would play her her song again. She adored one of my coats. I only had two. One was a waterproof zip up jumper, a faded black color, and the other was a neck to thigh length velvet textured overcoat with big gold buttons. It was brown and purple. She loved to wear it because it would go down to her knees. And she said it smelled like me. I said only if you wear your hat and your tap shoes. "Done." "Done."

We spent the rest of the day being in love, as sick and stupid as it sounds, as two nearly married people were suppose to be in love. We went on two more walks. Each time I would buy her two more flowers. She would smell them both, blush, and kiss me. The first walk was for lunch. We bought some submarine sandwiches from Gresham Halden who owned Gresham's Deli just down the street from Miisha's apartment. They weren't the best submarine sandwiches but Miisha really like Gresham so we would give him our support. We ate down by the docks. The second walk was to buy some food for dinner for the four of us and to pick up a package at the local print store.

Miisha and I wanted to hand out our little wedding gifts for guests at our joined bachelor and bachelorette parties, or hens and bucks nights, whatever you call them. It was that night at Leonards. I think Rowland, Polkie, and Miisha's closest girlfriend and Maid of Honor Amaryllis Page, whom she met three years ago when Miisha first came over for a term at the University, were setting it up, but since Rowland and Polkie were having dinner with us, Amaryllis, or Mary as she liked it, was doing most of the leg work. The two of them became great friends. Polkie and her actually started seeing one another a few months earlier to my chagrin, and Miisha's absolute enjoyment. I don't like seeing Polkie get hurt and when it comes to relationships he usually is the one hurt. But in this instance I didn't want to see either one of them get hurt, so I was pleased it seemed to be going well.

I had written a small poem for each one of our invited guests, some more personal than others because I hadn't even met all of them yet, Miisha's parents in particular. Miisha sketched an individual picture for everyone, something that reminded her of each person, and we took them to the print shop three days earlier to get individual thank you cards printed out. Black and white only. We spent the rest of the afternoon looking at each card and writing our 'thank yous' and our 'loves' to each person, packed our dinner in our travelling picnic basket, dressed all fancy, and drove to the property.

Miisha looked stunning. Her hair came about five inches down from the bottom of her brown hat. She had a three quarter length satin blue dress on with a golden sash tied around her waste, covered by my knee length coat and topped off with her tap shoes, which she fixed a little pink bowed ribbon to the top of each one. I was wearing a midnight purplish bluish suit, with a light pink collared shirt undone two buttons down, with a once wrapped scarf, a golfers cap, a small pink flower pinned to my pocket, and white sneakers. Miisha made me wear the sneakers. We both thought it was funny we didn't tell Rowland or Polkie it was a fancy dinner.

Miisha and I were finishing setting up the meal when Rowland and Polkie were pulling into the property. They pulled up with headlights shining on the outdoor presentation. "Well don't you two look dashing!" "Thanks Polkie!" Miisha yelled back. "Check out his shoes." She said to Rowland. Miisha loved it when people had sneakers on with fancy suits, she said it looked confusing and funny. "We didn't know it was a dress up party." "Well Rowland, we didn't tell you it was."

The dinner was lovely, the wine was even better, the company was the best. I played Miisha's song and again she kissed me before I was finished. Polkie and Rowland were just surprised that she liked it since I called her a crooked eye girl so many times, but Miisha new I thought she was hopelessly beautiful. "I hope Sheridan doesn't forget the gift." "What gift Rowland?" "Oh nothing Miisha, just a little something Polkie and I got for you two. Sheridan was holding it so you two wouldn't see it at our place." Polkie and Rowland had rented an apartment together about a year back. Since we were working on the house and all it was just easier for them to start their day in the same place. "Oh is that so Rowland? Polkie?" "What is it? What is it?" "Calm down Miisha. You'll see it at Leonards. It's nearly ten. We can leave now and get there a little early." "OK. Rowland you're driving. Polkie you're riding in the front. Miisha my love, your present, you're flying there. With me."

Sheridan was running late. We were a little early. Polkie and Rowland had made us a 'Just Married, but Forever In Love' sign to hang above our bed in the house. Miisha would have loved it. We never got to see it.

Miisha finds her hat

I have always known i wouldn't live to be thirty. I have dreamed about it since I was a little kid. My parents hated it when I told them. So did Rowland. The dreams weren't that I would die young, but I even had dreams about my thirtieth birthday, well actually the day before, but I would never wake up on the day of. I would die all kinds of ways, hit by a car, falling off a building, shot saving people, sometimes just shot, attacked by animals, even killed by my own mother. I have always known i wouldn't live to be thirty, but I did at least think I would make it to twenty six.

I had asked Miisha to marry me. I had known her for nearly two and one half years and there was no one else I would want to spend my most miserable days with. I knew she didn't think much of marriage, she told me on the first night I talked to her that she would never get married because she didn't need a legal contract to show her love for someone. I didn't expect her to answer, hell I didn't even expect to ask. I hadn't thought about it in the front of my mind before I did. We were just talking about how much she liked sketching more than painting, except when she is working with flowers, and if I would pick some blueberries with her the next day. I was sitting on our favorite bench and she was lying down with her head on my lap and reaching up and scratching my chin. She loved it when I grew a little facial hair. She had on a knee length dress and was wearing a green and blue vest over it. She had her hair tied in a knot under her chin for some reason. Her legs were hanging over the arm rest of the bench, leaving little red lines on her calves where they hung. I just looked down at her and asked. She looked right back up at me. Wrinkled her nose and perched her lips a bit, "I would love too."

She didn't want to rush off and call her parents or tell her friends. I had no need to call Rowland or Polkie. We stayed there silent for another twenty minutes or so, and then we got right back into our conversation about where we would go for blueberries and if we wanted to collect them for a pie or just eat them off the bush. We did both, but the pie had to be small. Miisha loves blueberries.

The house was coming along slowly, we were just finishing the framing for the second floor. It had taken us months to frame the first floor, Rowland's floor, and I had never seen Rowland so content and determined before. The property was filled with a maze of stone pathways and little stone fenced gardens that Miisha had made. The landscaping did look phenomenal for a house that wasn't even built yet. We didn't pave the driveway but we did pave a small path along the length of it to the road and letter box so Rowland could get to it. We were pleased with our efforts, and glad to be spending so much time together.

I asked Rowland to be my best man in the wedding that October. He told me he was insulted that I asked, he thougt the job was already his. It was. That's how it went for the next few months. Miisha and I, and Rowland, and Polkie sometimes, just being alive ad being together. It was so simple. It was so nice.

"You've got a good thing going." "Yeah so do you Rowland." I had brought a six pack of Rowlands favorite beers to the docks for our Thursday morning time together, we had already decided to take the next day off of any heavy work. I handed him a beer and laid down with my legs hanging off of the docks. I folded my hands behind my head for a little extra cushion. "I won't live in the house if you don't want me to man." "Bullshit Rowland. That is our house. I'll burn it down if you're not going to live there." "I don't want to be in the way man. I can take care of myself." "Rowland you could take care of yourself since you were six man. And you are never in the way." "Well, I just know I need you more than you need me, and I don't want to...." I sat up quickly. "You're wrong already Rowland. That's shit. You don't need anybody, you hear me." I laid my head back down, "Besides, Miisha won't let me get rid of you anyway. She likes you too much Rowland." "Yeah?" "Yeah." "You think there is another one out there like her?" "No way man. Never."

Rowland felt like getting a little loose and flying. I went back to Miisha's and grabbed a few more beers. I woke her up and asked if she wanted to go on a drive in one half hour. "Should I bring a hat?" "If you want to Miisha. Just meet Rowland and I at the docks in one half hour." Miisha was two minutes late but we were in no rush. Rowland had finished the other two beers and got in the back seat of the car. I sat in the front with Miisha. She had just wrapped the blanket around her, put on her tap shoes, and a hat."You look lovely Miisha." "Thanks Rowland." "Leave it Rowland, find your own. It is a nice hat though. You have any clothes on under that blanket?" "No time for clothes after I found my hat."

We got to our favorite place to fly. It was an old dirt road between two cow farms a few miles down from our property. Rowland had never went flying before, and I was a bit hesitant to let him, he was a bit loose. He insisted upon it and tried to guilt trip me with the poor boy in a wheelchair approach. I told him to shove it, and if he could get himself on top of the car then he could fly. It took him less than two minutes. I told Miisha to go very slow. She told me no and took off like a bullet. "Let him fly." After about five minutes Rowland started banging on the roof so Miisha stopped the car, a little bit to quickly though.

Rowland slid forward on the roof until we could see his eyes looking in through the windshield of Miisha's car. "The sun is rising." "We can see that Rowland." "I think I crapped my pants." "That's too bad Rowland." "Miisha. Drive faster." After Rowland pulled himself back up on the roof she took off again, even faster. I just sat there shaking my head at her and laughing as she pushed those tap shoes down on the accelerator.

After the sun was fully up Miisha let Rowland back in the car. He didn't crap his pants which was good for all three of us. Miisha drove Rowland back to his apartment and then us back to hers. We walked up to her building, and then I carried her up the stairs. We slept in each others arms for the next four hours. Miisha kept her hat on. Two weeks and two days later we were meant to get married.

Almost two weeks to the day later was the day we died.

Ballad of Miisha

crooked eye girl.
i'm so glad i found you.
i'm so glad you found me too.

crooked eye girl.
i'm so pleased to meet you.
pleased to greet you,
everyday.

you fly when you're caught up.
you fly when you need a breathe of air.
you've sketched the picture
of the life i want to live.

crooked eye girl.
you came from far away.
and decided to stay.

crooked eye girl.
you've made it simple to be.
you've made it simple for me,
life.

you fly when you're caught up.
you fly when you need a breathe of air.
you've sketched the picture
of the life i want to live.

crooked eye girl.
you've got your name from a bear.

crooked eye girl.
you've got your name from a bear.
a cute little bear.

you fly when you're caught up.
you fly when you need a breathe of air.
you've sketched the picture
of the life i want to live.

crooked eye girl.
you drive me mad.
you drive me mad.
you drive me mad.
Life.

Miisha builds a path

I was thirteen when I got my first job. It wasn't a high paying job, but I made a few bucks out of it. I worked for a professional woodworker, Lambert Counsel, who lived on the same road as I did. He worked from home, in the shop he had made in the lower level of his house. He made everything from furniture to wooden toys, from cups and goblets to end tables and head boards for fancy beds. He lived with his wife Ka. I thought Ka was a fantastic woman. She would always tell me stories of when she was younger. Her English wasn't all that good but I could still follow her. Her father was Dutch and her mother was Korean. "No bigger than a peanut." She would tell me. She wasn't that much bigger than a peanut herself.

Ka didn't work, or at least for money, she spent her days cleaning or rearranging the house and working outside in her gardens. She had three gardens. One, a vegetable garden, and she would always give me something to bring back to my parents when I left. The second garden was for exotic plants. That garden was always a work in progress because most of the plants would die every year when the seasons changed. Ka never moved the plants inside, she was insistent on trying to nurture them through the cold. They always died, and every spring she would replant and try again and again. The third garden was my favorite. It was a rock and sand garden. That was it. Rocks and sand. Ka would move the rocks around every now and again when she felt it needed to be done. She wouldn't let anyone else in that garden, only her, so I always had to see it from outside the surrounding little fence. I did sneak a touch of the sand one day when she wasn't looking. It was very fine, soft sand.

My job was easy. Since Lambert, or Mr. C, as I called him didn't allow Ka in his shop, which I think was because she wouldn't allow him in her rock and sand garden, I was the one who would clean and organize. Mr. C. used every little scrap of wood for something, he even made me collect all of the shavings, he would sell as little fire starters during the winter. All of the pieces had their own pile to be organized in depending on size, type of wood, and color. It was an easy job, and Mr. C. could sure do it himself if he wanted, but I think he just enjoyed the company and bossing someone around. Ka and he didn't have any kids so he never had the chance to make his own kids do little chores for him, so he hired one out. Me.

I worked for him for three and one half years before my parents died, and then after that I would only visit he and Ka from time to time. On my eighteenth birthday Mr. C. and Ka wanted me to come for a quick visit because he said he wanted to give me something. Ka gave me a hug, told me she was proud of me, told me happy birthday, and gave me a bundle of vegetables. She was real happy with the way she arranged them, like a flower bouquet. I told her thanks and she was pleased with her gift. Mr. C. took me out into his shop, he didn't let Ka come, that made her a bit sore, so she ran off to her rock and sand garden in protest. Mr. C. had made me a guitar. He told me it took him nearly four months to do it. He had never made one before and he wanted it to be perfect. He used a rosewood from South America for the base of it and black walnut for the neck. It was stunning. It even had my name on the side of the base in black walnut. it looked really good with the rosewood acting as a frame.

I didn't play guitar, but Mr. C. said it would be a good thing for me too learn. He said he heard from a close friend of his that playing music was a good way to cleanse the soul and the mind. I started to play a few months later. The guitar had a beautiful sound, I was told this many times by people who actually knew about them and played them often. It also had a hollow echo that made the sound resonate and sound like a choir, just an amazing work of art, a piece made by a superb craftsman, and a good friend.

Miisha didn't play the guitar, she didn't play any instruments besides her voice and her tap shoes, which she would seldom take off. She tapped those things around all the time. She thought they were the coolest thing, and she could make some pretty good rhythms with them as well. She didn't play the guitar but she very much enjoyed holding it. She said she could smell South America when she smelled the rosewood. She had been there for a few months with her family when she was younger, and she said the smell of the guitar would bring her back there. I just liked watching her be herself and do whatever it was that she would do. I would think about what I would smell in twenty years that would bring me back to remembering how wonderful she was, and I hoped that it would be her.

It had been just over a year since Rowland and I had bought the twenty acre property from Crispin's family. There was a lot more about building a house than Rowland and I had planned on, so we did have to hire some people out to get us started. It took us months just to agree on a design and layout for it so that we could have plans drafted up. We hired a man named Ward Keanan to be our consultant and contact for getting all of the zoning permits, and building permits, and all of the other legal crap we had to do before we could start building. After we had all of the permits and paperwork sorted we hired some local builder Lawrence Cateer from Lawrence and Sons Builders to lay the foundation for us and Andrew Hilthred from All Clear Leach System Installment and Rejuvenation to get the leach field all taken care of.

It was early April. The rivers were full with melt off from the winter and the spring rains. Fields and trees were in the early stages of getting there color back. We decided that we wanted to keep the driveway dirt and on the way to the property Rowland, Polkie, Miisha, and myself got stuck in a mud slick just before we reached the foundation. "We've got to do something about this driveway man. it's the second time we've got stuck here this week." "We have got to get you a better car. We'll get it filled in Rowland. Don't worry man. It's your turn." "What do you mean it's my turn?" "I pushed last time Rowland. It's your turn." Polkie started laughing. Miisha pinched my arm and shook her head, and then gave me a hidden smile. "Piss off man. I can't push the damn thing." "Fine Rowland. I'll do it again." "I'll push it." Miisha said. "It's OK Miisha. I was just giving Rowland a hard time." "No I want to try." "Alright well I'll help you." "NO. Stay in the car." She pointed at my seat. "Yes maam."

She had to crawl over me so that she could get out on my side. Her side was surrounded by a foot of mud and water. When she got out of the car she stood up straight and fixed her outfit. She had on a big fluffy sweater. It was brown and green and went all the way up to her chin. She had on a knee high skirt, an ugly beige and brown color that looked as if it had been made out of curtains from a 1950s grandmother's one story home, and big pink rubber boots on. She, as always, looked ridiculous and beautiful. "You really gonna let her push man?" "You heard her Polkie. She told me to stay in the car."

"OK. Miisha. I'm going to try and rock it back and forth for a second, and then you push from the left side. OK?" Miisha responded with a salute to Rowland and went and stood behind the car. "Did she just salute me?" "I believe she did Rowland." "She is something else." Rowland rocked the car back and forth and then Miisha tried to push us out. Polkie and I turned around to watch her, but she was gone before I could see. "Where is she?" Rowland started laughing. "I think she fell man." Polkie started laughing. We saw her stand up absolutely covered in mud. I started laughing. Miisha started trying to push again. And again she fell. I rolled my window down and stuck my head out. "Miisha. Would you like some help?" "Yes please."

When I walked to the back of the car Miisha was just sitting in the mud. She had mud on her ugly skirt, on her sweater, and some on her face where she was trying to wipe a tear away but had mud on her hands and sleeves. She even had mud inside of her left pink rubber boot. "Hey there beautiful. Let me help you up." I stood her up and wiped the mud off of her face. She was half crying and half starting to laugh a bit. "I couldn't push the stupid thing." "Sure you could. I saw you push it. It just pushed you back." Now she was more laughing than crying. "Miisha come on I need your help." We pushed while Rowland rocked and we managed to get the car unstuck. "Hop in you two. thanks." "It's fine Rowland. We'll walk from here." "Suit yourself." Rowland stepped the gas hard and kicked mud up at Miisha and myself. We both started laughing.

The rest of the day we spent kind of just hanging out, the four of us. Polkie, Rowland, and myself started arranging the lumber for the floor joists and the stairs going down into the basement. Really, we didn't know much about what we were doing, but over the next few months we started figuring it all out. Miisha walked around the property collecting stones. She thought it would be nice to have a stone lined walkway up to the house from the driveway. At the end of the day, the three of us looked puzzled, and she had created a beautiful entrance way. She was quite the productive little thing. "That looks great Miisha." "It does Rowland. Glad you like it." "Maybe we'll put you in charge of building the house tomorrow, and we'll just get out of your way. I bet it would be done in two weeks." "Maybe three weeks Rowland." Miisha said.

We all sat down at the table we had brought for sitting down at. We had our sandwiches I had made that morning and shared a jug of beer, a local beer sold growler style. Polkie and Rowland left just before sunset in Rowland's car. "See you later man." "See you later Rowland. Take care Polkie. See you tomorrow." I had left my truck there the day before, so Miisha and I sat at the table and watched the sunset before we left. It went down just behind Montgomery Hill, like it always did at that time of year. I told Miisha I wanted to play her the song I had been writing. It was about her. I took my guitar out, and after Miisha gave it a smell, I played her the song. She kissed me before I could even finish the last verse.

I showed her I loved her. I drove her back to her apartment and showed her I loved her again. Then, I was off to the docks, It was a Wednesday night. Miisha walked me there.

Miisha learns to fly

Miisha loved me. this I know. I could see it in her, in the way she treated me, in the way we were together. We never talked about it all that much. I mean we'd say it sometimes, but we didn't need to talk about it. When we did I found it kind of funny. Miisha would always relate it to the most important things in life for her. Love wouldn't even make the top five of her list. I was in the top five. I was number four actually, just in front of children with red hair, and behind the wind, graham crackers, and Life. I adored her honesty.

It had been just over a year since i had first met Miisha in that little arts store. She had transferred to the University to finish her degree, and so that we could be close. She made the decision to stay with me, a decision I thanked her for everyday. It was warm for a January day when I gave her one of the best presents I could think of giving her. She loved it and it became one of her most favorite things to do.

We were driving to a beach. I had borrowed Rowlands car because I needed a car for the present. I packed the back up with wood and a blanket. We ended up having a fire on the beach, which was perfect because the nighttime air was much cooler than the days. About ten minutes before we reached the parking for the beach I pulled the car over. "What's up?" "Miisha I would like to give you something." "OK. What is it?" "Get on the roof and hold on." She looked a bit puzzled at first, but then slipped out the window and onto the roof. She leaned down and knocked on my window. I rolled it down and she kissed my forehead. I would never forget the way her hair looked as it stretched for the ground, and I could smell her in the cool winter air. It was a good smell.

She screamed and laughed the entire way to the beach. When I stopped she jumped off of the roof and opened my door for me. She had tears in her eyes, two kinds of tears. Some from the wind and cold air, and some from her happiness. She spun me around and we danced for a few moments. She put her lips to my ear and breathed warm and hard. "Life. You've given it to me." She had done the same.

The fire we made was nice. The blanket we sat on was comfortable. The night was clear and full of winter stars. The ocean made sweet song. The girl was perfect.

Miisha kills a raccoon

"She didn't have a real name. I was to young to think of a good one for her. She had a tag on her that said Share a Bear. It was for some children's organization my mother was a part of when I was younger. She thought I needed something to sleep with at night. She had heard somewhere that infants like companions when they sleep, like a special blanket or toy or something. Something they learn to be comfortable around. My mom got me a Share a Bare. Am I talking to fast?"

Miisha was talking a bit fast. I hadn't ever heard her talk so fast before. She must have been wanting to tell me about her name for a while because she seemed eager to get it all out at once. I thought it was interesting that her name came from a little bear, but I was also enjoying the night, and her, and the walk, that I wasn't fully keeping up.

She sat me down on the side of the path we would walk from Leonards to her apartment. Before we sat down she asked me to help her kick a pile of leaves together. It was getting to that time of year so there were plenty of leaves. We made a small pile and though the leaves were a bit damp we sat in the middle of them, pushing the sides of the pile out in a gust. "OK. So I had the Share the Bear to sleep with. I couldn't speak really at the time so my parents just took to calling it Share." She leaned in and kissed me twice and then took my right hand. As she was telling me the rest of the story she was running her fingers over where I once had a right little finger, It felt supremely weird, but not fully uncomfortable so I let her continue.

"When I was a bit older I couldn't really say Share all that well. I could only say Sha. Sha, that's it." "Sha?" "Yeah. Sha." She seemed pleased with her story so far, and I myself was becoming more and more involved with it. I could also smell the leaves. They were in the decaying cycle of their lives, and since we rushed them together in a frenzied little pile we had scuffed them up a bit to release their decaying smell. It was one of my all time favorite smells. It took me back to when I was little and would jump into leaf piles after I had made them. I would breathe in so deep when I was buried that I could barely breathe and would cough a lot, but I didn't mind the coughing. I loved the smell and the bitter taste of the decaying.

I use to do that all the time when I was really young. I stopped making piles of leaves though when I was about eight. It was because after I made a pile one day I ran inside for a glass of water. After I came and jumped in the leaves, when I was buried, I was bit on the face three times by a snake. It wasn't poisonous or anything, but it scared me. When I stood up it was still hanging from my face from the last bite and then let go. I was so scarred I almost cried. Rowland was there. When he saw I was about to cry he threw two acorns at me and one hit me on the face.

I lost whatever calm I had left and screamed and ran at Rowland. I jumped on him and hit him as hard as I could a few times. When he got away he ran inside our house and told my parents. I was punished for two weeks for that. I never made a pile of leaves again. I didn't find out until I was nineteen, about two years after Rowland's accident that Rowland threw the snake in the leaves. We were drinking one night, and he was just sitting there staring at me a bit funny. A bit sad. I asked him why he looked so sad. He told me he did it, and he apologized. He said he had felt bad for it for years. I felt so bad that he felt so bad I couldn't even get mad. I forgave him on the spot, but then called him a jerk for calling me a wuss when Oswyn beat me up. He didn't apologize.

"I also called toys and stuff that were mine by saying me. Like 'me blank' 'me ball' 'me Sha' and that's kind of how it started. My dog picked up Share one day and wouldn't put it down. When I tried to take it away my dog bit me. I started crying and saying 'me Sha' 'me Sha' over and over. My mother told me when she got the bear back and gave it to me I held it so close, crying, saying 'me Sha' for hours. And when I could speak a little bit better Mesha became the bears official name." Her head dropped a little and I could see she was looking a bit sad. 'What's wrong Miisha?" "Nothing. I just miss that bear. I lost it when I was five. I told my parents that i wanted to be called Mesha because I missed my bear so much." "And they changed your name?" "No. But Mesha became the name they called me, and I told my friends to call me. And when I was in school my teachers. And since then it has been Mesha. When I was in fourth grade though I changed the spelling to Miisha because I thought it looked cooler. And since it's OK to change the spelling of a name that isn't even your real birth name. I did."

She came closer this time and kissed me again, for a bit longer. I pushed her back just a little so I could see her face. I moved the hair away from her eyes, and stared at her in the moonlight for a moment. I kissed her once more. "Well Miisha. We better get you home." I helped her from the leaf pile back to her feet. I brushed the leaves off that had stuck to her sweater, and she returned the favor for me. She grabbed my left hand the way she does and we walked back to her apartment without a word.

When we were at her door I told her about Rowland and his idea for building a house. Miisha told me that I should do it. I should help Rowland and be there for him. She told me that she couldn't wait until it was finished so she could see it and sketch some pictures of it. She even asked that if she made some art projects if I would put them in the house. I told her if the house stands up she could put whatever she wanted in it. We talked like hopeless romantics for another ten minutes, planning out walls, and stone gardens, and a good place for a swing. "You won't be here though. When do you go back to your University?" "When isn't what I've been thinking. I've had the question why in my head for the last few weeks." With this she kissed me and started for her door.

"Don't you want to know?" She asked when I was walking away. "I already do. It's Miisha. Spelled that way because it's cool." "Well my birth certificate says it's..........." She shut the door. I wasn't listening anyway.

I was on my way to meet Polkie when a thought came into my mind. And the thought turned into a belief instantly. I loved her. I gunned the truck around. I loved her. It happened so quickly. I had never been in love before, and I knew this now, because now I was. The blue lights came on behind me just before I hit the raccoon. I pulled over about fifty feet from its dying carcass. I jumped out of the car to see what had happened when the officer yelled at me to sit back in my vehicle.

It took about five minutes to come to the car door. "What caused you to do an illegal driving maneuver in the middle of a two lane street Sir?" "You wouldn't believe me officer." "Try me. It better be good because what you did was illegal." I was very hesitant to tell this guy actually why I illegally turned around in the street. It was nearly one in the morning and I hadn't seen a car in over fifteen minutes. I thought it was completely safe, except for the raccoon and all. "Sir I asked you a question. What caused you to do an illegal driv..." "Love." "Have you been drinking tonight sir?" "No." He didn't believe me and made me go through all the road sobriety tests, which I passed, and even made me blow into a breathalyzer, which I passed. He gave me a ticket for my 'aggressive and reckless' driving. "You know that could have been a child you hit. Did you ever think of that?" "No sir." "Well next time you should. It could have been a child." I read his badge as he walked away. D. Hanskead. Officer D. Hanskead.

What kind of child would be wondering on a street at one in the morning? I thought Officer D. Hanskead was just another jerk cop who was paid based on the amount of citations he ordered out. When I think back on it he seemed a bit upset with the whole situation. Poor guy probably had a mean wife or something, or a jerk father, whatever it is that makes people unpleasant to be around. Officer D. Hanskead had that unpleasantness.

When I returned to Miisha's apartment I could see that all of her lights were off. I imagined how beautiful she must look sleeping in her bed. She liked it cold when she slept but didn't like fans or air conditioning. She probably had her window down for the chill. I didn't call up to her or bother her or anything. I parked my truck and fell asleep. I didn't tell Miisha for another month how I felt, but she already knew. Lucky for me, she told me she felt the same. She said she was going to tell me when we were in the leaves, but she was telling a story. She said she tried to by stopping and kissing me a few times to show me. She told me it is more important to show someone that you love them more than just saying it.

Around Christmas time I only gave her one present. She gave me six. Girls always seem to out do me. It took me three weeks to find it. I wrapped it myself, and I was pretty proud of the wrapping. She didn't notice it as she ripped it to pieces. She said she loved ripping the paper up into little bits and then throwing the bits into the air. I watched her as she did it. She opened the box and started to cry. "It's not the same color." I didn't know what to say to that. It was an interesting response, but it meant nothing, she was just remembering. She cried more and then jumped on me and wrapped herself around me. "That is love. That is how you show it." She said. Those damn Share a Bear's hadn't been made in fourteen years, and only in North Dakota.

Miisha and a cute little bear

It was three weeks before the final bandages could come off of my right hand. Rowland exaggerated a bit when he told me I only had three fingers now on my right hand. The bullet caught mostly the little finger. I still had four fingers there, though the right ring finger wasn't the same at it's base. The hand itself looked a bit weird, but I could still use it, still hold a stein in it, still use it for good. You couldn't see much of a scar under my eye. I was a touch bummed out about that, a scar on the face isn't all that bad, but the doctors did quite the job limiting the chance of it. My arm had a nice scar though, the knife didn't go in straight so you could definitely tell something happened. In all, I was back to my normal self physically, and a little bit stronger mentally.

Rowland had been waiting for me to finish my degree before we decided what to do with the inheritance and insurance money from my parents death, and since I had dropped out I think he thought it was time. We always talked of these grand plans to travel the world, sailing, buying a car and driving it from Europe to somewhere in Africa, dog sledding in the Yukon Territory, riding the Trans Siberian Railway for a while, mostly stuff we read in books that we thought would be good to check out. We were kind of over those dreams by then. Rowland would get upset when he thought about them, and how he wouldn't be able to do exactly what he wanted because of his legs. I always told him he could do anything, it's just that he didn't always believe me anymore.

He asked me what I wanted to do. I told him something simple, something great and worth doing, but nothing to absurd, nothing too far fetched. I had plans of my own someday, I did want to travel and have absurd adventures, have experiences not many people could have, maybe to be the first to do something. Rowland and Miisha showed me in the next three years that I didn't need those high hopes to live. That something simple like making a decision, one that I held belief in, and one that I stuck with could show me to live.

It was over a beer one night at Leonards when the decision was made. It was an open mic night and I had just played three songs for the forty something sized crowd. Rowland actually accompanied me with the first song, it was a song we wrote together about two years earlier. Rowland played the washboard. It was his favorite instrument. It was a percussion instrument he would sometimes play by scratching thimbles, spoon handles, or a whisk broom across the ribbed metal surface. It all depended on the sound he wanted. But lately he found a pair of metal mesh gloves, like some people wear when they are dealing with really sharp knives, and fell in love with them. They make the most incredible sound when he brushes them like mad, and since he didn't need to hold anything he loves them even more. He would even set up a few symbols around him to add in to his rhythm when it sounded right. For the first song, I played a banjo to accompany the sound of Rowland and the washboard. We both sang during it, almost dueling voices, but also harmonized on occasion.

It was a song called 'Hands no longer young' we wrote about the urgent need people had for money, and how they started work at too young an age, and before they even had time to grow up their hands looked as if they could already retire. the music was better than the idea of the lyrics. the crowd enjoyed it. The other two songs were just an acoustic guitar and vocals combination. I had been playing for a few years, but since I had left school a few weeks before I was having more and more time to play, practice, create, and practice some more. The people in Leonards enjoyed the last two songs as well. They were just upbeat sad songs I had written about my parents a few years earlier.

There was a song I was working on, two actually, one was a secret song I wanted to surprise Miisha with, and the other was a song with Miisha. She had never played an instrument before so i bought her some tap shoes and told her to just tap them whenever she felt like she should. Her voice though was unmatched. She could hit anything and everything. Sometimes I would just listen to her and forget to play. I was trying to get over that, it wouldn't look very good if I forgot what I was suppose to be doing up on the small stage. She didn't like crowds though, well she did, just not being the target of everyone's eyes.

When I sat down at the bar Miisha gave me the lightest kiss, just a brushing of the lips and told me she liked the songs and wanted to go outside for some air. I told her I would grab my coat, but she said she was fine on her own, gave me a wink with her lazy eye and went outside. "I think we should buy some land and build a house." "You do Rowland?" "Yeah. I do. I don't like my apartment, you are living between a truck, Polkie's, and Miisha's, we have the money saved, and yeah. I think we should." "Have you thought about where Rowland?" "I talked to Crispin. His dad wants to sell twenty acres on the outside of his property near Montgomery Hill." "And?" "And that's the property we are going to buy. And after we get the plans, and get the permits and all that stuff, we're going to build a house." "What builder do you want to hire to build it?" "No. We are. You and me."

I could see in his eyes he was serious. I was impressed with him. He had an idea, and he seemed pretty sure about it. "How many drinks have you had in those last two songs?" "I'm serious." "I thought you wanted to travel?" "Nope. We are going to build a house." I was looking straight at him now, he didn't just want my approval, his eyes were telling me he needed my help, and he wanted me to want to do it as well. Well Rowland, "we are going to build a house then."

"Hey I need you back man. Sorry breaks over. We need ice and the two Light's are just kicked." Sheridan was the bar manager and worked bar on the open mic nights. He let me pick up a few shifts in the bar since I left the University, but he would give me forty five minutes off to let me play some songs and have a quick beer before I had to get back. Sheridan was a real nice guy like that, always looking out for his friends, always trying to accommodate, that's why people liked him.

When Miisha came back in she saw that I was working already so she sat down with Rowland. I was glad they were hitting it off like they were, the last thing someone likes is their brother or friends not getting on well with the person they were with. It was a fact now. I was with Miisha. I didn't know why I was lucky enough for the position, but it was so. Miisha made sure about it.

It was a week earlier, about two weeks after we first met, when Miisha and I were walking down to the docks around twelve thirty Wednesday night Thursday morning. She decided she wanted to walk me there, she didn't want to stay, she wanted Rowland and I to have our time, but she liked the docks, and she liked me, so she wanted to walk me there. We got there earlier than I ever would usually, I didn't want her to leave right away so I made sure we got there well before Rowland did. I think she liked that. She didn't say so, but when I asked her to stay for a while, she put her head on my shoulder and squeezed my left hand a bit tighter.

We sat with our legs hanging off of the docks and got back into a conversation we were having over dinner. We ordered a pizza to go, and we ate it on one of the benches at the University campus. Miisha really enjoyed eating outside, she never really told me why. I was on my third slice, Missha still on her first when she asked me why Rowland was in a wheelchair. I told her about the old lady and the damn dog and how Rowland had nothing to do with it except that he was unlucky for being there. We discussed the idea of 'luck and unlucky' for a while and then the moment just fizzled out into us sitting on the bench in silence, smelling of pizza and trying to stay warm in the early November evening.

It was on the docks when I told her the rest of the story, about how that was the same day my parents died. I hadn't told her yet. I'm not sure why, maybe because I knew she was pretty emotional and I didn't want to see her upset, or feel bad for me. I don't like it much when people feel bad for me. After I told her she just kissed my cheek and stuck her head into my neck and my shoulder, grabbing my left arm with both of her hands.

"I want you to ask me to be your girlfriend." It hadn't occurred to me that it was any other way. We had only known each other for two weeks, but they had been very good weeks. We were real close for people who only knew each other for two weeks. "OK. Will you?" "No. Ask me if I will be your girlfriend, not 'will you.'" I didn't like that I couldn't see her face. "Well look at me then." She did. "Miisha. I would like to ask you something." "Go ahead." "I was hoping that you would give me the honor of having you for a girlfriend." "That's not a question." "OK. Miisha will you be my girlfriend?" I felt like I was twelve. She sat there looking at me for about ten seconds, it was a bit awkward. Then she just gave me a single nod. "Nope. that's not an answer Miisha." She wrinkled her nose at me. "Yes. I will."

After my shift at Leonards had ended I walked Miisha home to her apartment. I wasn't planning on staying the night with her, and I didn't. I told Polkie that we would hang out after I ended work. I didn't end up seeing Polkie either though, he wasn't that sore about it, that happened a lot with Polkie and I. All of the stand ups made the time we did spend that much better. We were about ten minutes into our walk when I asked Miisha why her parents named her Miisha. "They didn't. It was all because of a little bear, a cute little bear."