Plus Two - Melody
[ commandeer ]
It’s happening, I can feel it. There’s that feeling. Forever is slowly walking away and never is knocking at the door. I am pretending to not hear the knocks like how used to pretend to still be asleep in the minivan after our curvy drive through the farm fields of corn and rural patches of midwestern forests. The drive was not usually long enough to fall into a deep sleep. Some of the turns, regardless of your weight and size, would cause shifting from comfort to awkward pain as the centrifugal force of right to left or left to right would have the parts of your body that weren’t in contact with the towels, that matched the interior of the minivan’s already carpeted surface, to shift one way while gravity held your face down and was helped by the friction to hold you in place… sort of. It happened enough to only get you as far as sleeping in a way that still allowed you to hear what love song my dad was listening and singing along to. Here and there all of that would get incorporated into a short dream. He sang to all the lost loves, but would look at my mom in the passenger seat with an ensuring smile. They never really mattered that much, she did. When we arrived I could everyone get out of the car, I could feel the cool air creep and around the seats from the side sliding door. They would knock of my sleep door and say we were home. I would ignore. All of the doors would close at with a force that could wake anyone, not me though, so I would ignore, well because I was never really asleep. The muffled sound of their voices through the windows and doors would grow distant and silence would make itself present. Sometimes my ears would ring with it, probably a way recovering from the slamming of the doors. A few minutes later the muffled voices would return and the sliding door would slowly open. An exhale, the kind that communicated his knowledge of me faking my sleep, from dad, and an uncontrollable laugh from my mom that was totally about knowing how frustrated my dad was and knowing that I was faking it. They both knew this happened every time. The process of trying to get my limp body out was a two person effort,my dad still frustratingly exhaling and my mom still laughing only now because of how hilariously limp I would make my body to ensure them that I was asleep and also because the laughter only made her weaker and unable to really help my father. The journey would end with me being gently placed in bed or on the couch. Shoes gently unlaced, and a blanket tossed over me. Before leaving me alone I would hear him say, “Jijo muchacho.” And the door would slowly close. I’m faking that feeling of being asleep again. Never won’t stop knocking. And I’m in hot pursuit of forever.