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Dare The DevilChapter 24 - Drex #2“When your
savior lets you down, who will mind?” --Chris Squire, A Fish out of Water Left, not right. Right was so wrong. Perhaps there would have been a different ending had I decided to turn left out of my parent’s house instead of right that fateful morning a month into my Drytime as I rode-out on my bike. Perhaps I could have saved someone, if not myself, at least someone very sweet and precious who I loved so much, from the ordeal she would experience the next day. Perhaps not. Perhaps all the cards had been dealt, and the endgame would have resolved itself as it did regardless of any further involvement on my part. I do not know, and can never know. It is all bridge under the water anyway. But I did turn to the right out of the driveway. And right again at the stop sign…No…NO Sam, go left, turn LEFT, because Drex is there and something very bad will happen which you will not like at all and something very bad is going to happen after that and then something horrible probably the single worst thing of your entire life (“Please, Dear God! No! NO!! NO!!!”) after that….. Left, turn left, not right, Sam. It is not too late. But of course, of the course (The Course lay down long before) my journey would take me to the right…past the open racquetball courts where Drex was yet again playing paddleball…and he would see me, even though I tried really tried to peddle fast and keep my head down and pretend I did not see him but he yelled out “Hey SAAAM!!” so loud that I would have looked like even a bigger idiot if I pretended I did not hear him. So I thought I wanted to live without The Power, eh? Go it alone, so to speak? Don’t need no more help, ready to be a big boy, Shield of Faith all I need? I was about to get a reminder of what the normal, mortal me was really like. And how much I hated him. So why drag it out with endless pages of prose? The insightful reader has no doubt already correctly guessed that Sam stops, Drex’s friend puts down his paddle, Drex almost begging Sam for a game, Drex being such really a genuinely great guy just interested in the thrill of competition and finding it way cool that he has another chance to play with the Greatest Paddleball Player He Has Ever Known, and Sam being caught here like the proverbial Deer in the Headlights…Unable to run…Unable to face the truth of what Sam knows to be the stark inevitability of his defeat, regrettably taking the paddle in his hand, as he fights Sam Versus The Universe for Signs He Really Is The AntiChrist – The Rematch. “Wow. Cool, dude. Thanks for stopping. I’ll serve.” Drex said with the enthusiasm of a bona fide champ. Losers always serve. Except what Drex didn’t know was that he was the only winner here. I should have served, should spend the rest of my entire miserable life serving because losers always serve and without the Power and the Voice and Communion I was such a poor excuse for a human being not to mention an athlete, just ask Dear Ole Dad who’s heart I had broken and disappointed so many times, just ask Mom who found me soooo weird…Just ask me. This one part of the story is great made-for-TV-movie-stuff. Very visual. Very comic. Very sad. Sam’s shots went soooo wild, we spent half the time chasing the lost ball. If I served with any power at all the ball went wide, and if I wanted to make sure the stupid thing was actually in the legal court then I had to hit with such finesse that Drex was easily able to smash the rubber sphere into the corner. Not to mention, of course, that after having spent so much time laying around talking to the Voice and smoking weed I was in no shape at all, certainly not compared to Drex, and that’s taking into consideration that I played racquetball 3 times a week, or at least pretended to, or at least until I had graduated from high school…. 666. The Mark of the Beast. Subconscious? Coincidence? Who knows, but the truth-is-stranger-than-fiction fact is that I lost 21-6, 21-6, 21-6. I scored less points in all three games combined than I had in just one of the butt-kickings I and the Lightning’s Hand had decimated Drex with just a few months previous. Actually, a very fair, honest, representative performance. Today was the reality; it was the previous performance that was the aberration, as out of place in the continuity of the space-time matrix as Alice was in the Rabbit Hole. Of course Drex didn’t know about any of that. Had no idea of the super-human walkway that had previously propelled me to victory, or of the face of Satan my girlfriend had seen in me causing me to renounce my secret ways and drug-induced Communions which were somehow the source of my now-lost athleticism..…No. All Drex could see was the outside, and the Greatest Paddleball Player He Has Ever Known could barely even hit the ball. “Geez. What’s with you? You sick?” Yeah, I was sick alright. Sick and tired of being sick and tired, and tired and sick of being me again. “It’s like you are not even the same person.” “Bite me, Drex.” What else could I say? There was nothing to say. Drex’s words would haunt me all day. “Not even the same person.” And this “me” I was all too familiar with. Whoever the other me was, how he got that way and whatever his secrets were and exactly what or who the Power was, I did not know, wasn’t able or willing to try to really figure out. All I did know was that I missed him. Missed the New And Improved Me. I wanted Me back. Yes, Drytime was tough. Tougher than I thought it would be, mainly because I wasn’t ready for it, mainly because I didn’t really want it. Drytime sucked. My defeat at the paddleball court had left me as deflated as the previous victory had exalted me. This loser on the court was the real me, truly a different person, a person I remembered but never felt comfortable with and never, ever liked. So different from the photon-naming, Voice Communing AnteChrist-In-Training Warlock I had become. And… so sorry… (“Please, Dear God! No! NO!! NO!!!”) forgive me, Lord, but I missed the old New me sooooo much, you just have no idea. The paddleball defeat had utterly deflated me, and erased any trace of resolve I had left to remain….in Drytime…to remain….straight. I wanted, needed, to Commune again. But, but WAIT!!! What about Lori? What about your promise…What about the face of Satan? What about all that?!? Well, just what about it? The truth is that Lori doesn’t have to know, first of all. Obviously she is just not ready and can’t handle life beyond the pale. So I don’t have to tell her everything. “Let there be spaces in your togetherness,” said the book by Kalil Gibran that Lori gave me for my birthday. And the deeper issue…The Voice of Power, Satan that Lori had seen? Do you really think you want to go back to that? In my desperate state, empty, feeling so exposed, small and hating the normal me, it was all too easy to explain away and rationalize the whole thing. I knew I had been the one who pulled the whole Devil Face. Probably some weird display of weirdness, wanting to impress her in some weird way, who knows. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I do not have to do that, don’t have to pull my lips over my teeth and do the Devil grin. I will be in control. And maintain. That’s it!! I need to maintain, that’s all, I have not been maintaining! And pray, yes, that is the key, I have not been praying enough, I must get back onto the real path, the God Path, because the Voice is Specialness, opening me to the next world, the Astral World, where both angels and demons tread, and I lowered my guard a little that’s all this time I’ll pray and stay focused and only commune with the angels and that way I can be special again and have the Power and no one will get hurt and it will all be good, so good, perfect even, just the way it is supposed to be. I will Commune again. Now. Today, erasing the memory of the pathetic loser on the paddleball court, and if I move fast and go NOW then maybe I can catch Drex at the court and show him the New and Improved REAL Me. Good Boy. |
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