Archive for August, 2008

August 9, 2008

“On the Bay”

Not that anyone ever reads this, but here’s the deal. For the last eight months, I have been pursuing a commission as a Naval Flight Officer. On Wednesday, I dropped from the program at Officer Candidate School. Bottom line: the military is not where I belong. I’m a writer, a teacher, a martial artist. But not a soldier. So, back to writing.

On the bay, the clouds hang low. A storm comes, wall clouds and shelf clouds slipping under the white wisps closer to space. Soon they’ll hammer us; they’ll rinse us.

We wear our white shirts, all soiled from an honest day’s work on the island. Our eyes lock on the coming clouds.

We chose to come to the island, but many no longer choose to remain. But for now, the choice isn’t ours. So we wait for rain in our white shirts. The wind picks up, covering our arms in goosebumps. It’s so rare to feel anymore.

All in white, but none the same. There is the boy who loves the island and all its rules, abiding by them even when he no longer has to. He’ll stay as long as it takes to earn what was promised him. His eyes are deader than mine to the rain.

There is the boy who saw the future, what would come after the island. White turned to red, and even the rain was red. He hopes the storm will clean his heart, tortured by red.

There is the girl with every reason to leave the island, but still she stays. You must understand, the island promises dreams. She has left behind two sons for the promises. The rain helps her forget things outside the island; the rain focuses her.

Here is the boy who dreamt great adventures, unaware how hard it is to leave home. His old forests call to him even now. In the rain there is something of the scent of home. He will breathe it in deep, and wait ‘til he can finally depart the island.

Thunder cracks, seagulls flee. We in our white shirts turn our eyes skyward, feeling the cold reminders of ourselves splash on shirt and skin. The stains fade, and for those who wish it, so do memories.
I can smell home.

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