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The Intersection |
| Written by John Talleos | |
| Saturday, 09 August 2008 | |
When Jason Conrad was 7 year old he was sitting on a step outside his front door and watched a motorcyclist drive by and strike a van at an intersection. The cyclist smashed into the driver side door with machine and body collapsing on the ground knocking out the van driver . The crash scene was silent for a moment when a womans voice shouted “oh my God”. Jason watched a crowd gather then police, ambulance then clean-up crew. At night in his bedroom his father had come home and he could hear his mother telling him about the accident and how the cyclist had died. Jason didn't realize this had happened. With this new information he now recollected at the memory of the body laying on the pavement thinking to himself “Thats what death looks like..” The thought had frightened him and he couldn't sleep thinking about it. He got up from his bed to look out the window which faced the front of the apartment house. He looked at the intersection where the accident happened with the street light shinning on the spot as though it were on a stage. As he looked at the spot a black crow flew onto the street and he could see the bird pluck up a small noticeable piece of material with quick motion and fly away.
It was to be Jason's clearest memory in his early life. During a bout with the flew in his teens Jason had a lucid dream of running towards the intersection while a sea of black crows littered the street and when arriving would swarm and attack him. It was a dream which stayed in his memory as the accident itself had.
From the time of birth until graduation from high school Jason had few friends and was relatively quiet. In high school he kept his hair long wore black hard rock tee-shirts and smoked pot. He was part of a small group of like minded teens that were not rebellious as their hippie predecessors but drank and indulged in drugs just the same. His daily routine wasn't much different then his fathers in that once the day was over the rest of the time was spent in front of the television with nothing much said. His father would drink beer until bed time, occasionally becoming drunk or at least noticeably so. Jason would sneak out to smoke marijuana. On weekends Jason would spend time in his room equipped with television and a frequently loud stereo, sometimes with his best friend Carl Hunter. Carl may have been every bit a bonehead as Jason but was much more personable. He would always strike a conversation with Jason's mother before disappearing with Jason in his room. One afternoon after the two had gotten high Carl asked him about a poorly made drawing of a black bird that hung on his wall. A drawing Jason had made while impaired falsely thinking that he was inspired beyond his talents. “What the hell is that dude.” Carl asked mockingly knowing that Jason had drawn it. “That's my curse” “What??” now laughing. “You gotta stop doing drugs man.” “Ever wonder why I am the way I am?” Jason asked Carl sitting on a desk chair. “No, you get stoned get drunk and now your a stoner who likes to rock...and draw black birds.” This made Jason laugh. “The reason why I'm the way I am, I think is because I saw death, man.” Jason said trying to be serious. “And?” “And what?” “Dude what does that have to do with drawing stupid black birds and being cursed?” This made Jason stop and think. “The reason the way I'm the way I am is because I saw death when I was young and it was a curse.” “I didn't see death, I'm no different from you?” Carl said. “We're all different man.” Jason said shaking his head. “Alright, what your saying is that because you saw death your all ****** up, right?” Thinking for a moment Jason then answered “Right”. “But I didn't see death.” Now Jason was stumped. He couldn't answer. “Jay, your saying that your cursed. That means since I didn't see death but do the same things you do, I'm a bigger ******* then you because I have no excuses, at least your cursed.” Jason smiled and breathed a laugh. He then got up and snatched the drawing off the wall. “I gotta stop smoking. Lets go out.”
After Jason had graduated from high school he worked at jobs with low pay and then landed a job with the towns park department. His pay was still low but he had benefits which made up for it. Jason was by this time 23. It was also at this time when the morning paper carried the story of Carl's untimely death in a car accident. The two hadn't seen much of each other after high school. Carl had gone away to college in New Jersey and lived their afterwards. Jason was sad about the news. He had fallen into the habit of drinking with his work buddies after work and then drinking without them. After Carl had past away Jason wasn't just drinking after work but getting heavily drunk. It was around this time Jason was in the bar on a week day night. Jason was sitting two stools away from Irene, a fifty something regular who Jason knew as she did him. They watched television when Jason struck a conversation. “So how the hell are ya Irene.” “Not much Jay. Not much. How about you.?” “I'm okay considering.” “That's good.” “My best friend died” Jason said. “How did he die?” “Car accident.” “Oh.” “Here in town?” Irene asked. “No, New Jersey.” “That sucks.” “When did this happen?” Jason has to think looking at the ceiling. “Three months ago now.” Irene then remembers Jason mentioning this before but she doesn't bother with it.
“He cured me of my curse.” “Well it wasn't really a curse but I thought it was and he set me straight.” Irene doesn't respond. Jason is drunk. “Do you believe in curses?” Jason asks. “No, I don't know what a curse is.” Jason thinks about the answer. “You know what I don't know what a curse is either come to think of it.” Then Jason's eyes are fixed on his beer. He hiccups then says in a low voice not meaning for Irene to hear. “I'm just an *******.”
Jason walks home which is not more then a mile. Since his mission is to get drunk he chooses a bar within walking distance. In his small old apartment Jason retires into bed. In a dream Jason finds himself at the intersection of the motorcycle accident. He's standing on the corner and Carl is with him but on the sidewalk. “This is where it happened.” Jason says to Carl as he stands in the street pointing at the exact spot. Jason dreams about his old apartment house along with the intersection quite often. Sometimes in his dream he is convinced he is actually there, not dreaming. This is one such dream and he mentions this to Carl. “I'm always dreaming about this spot and my old home over there. I'm finally here.”
“What about the stupid black bird.”
Carl asks. “There goes one.” Jason looks to the ground to see if there is anything that would cause the bird to land, but being convinced he wasn't dreaming thought foolish about it. Jason then walked towards his old apartment. Since in his mind he was actually there, he thought he could look things over. He then realized that Carl was dead and he shouldn't be there behind him. He walks quicker towards his apartment. Then he wakes up startled and now a bit afraid of being alone, he falls back to sleep.
Jason's drinking moderated as the years went by. He gained weight, held on to the long hair and grew a beard. When his parents passed on he moved into the their home. It was the home of his teenage years and kept his old bedroom. There was a stretch of years when he had a girlfriend, Gene. They would spend their Saturday afternoons in a bar, where they met, and for a while she moved in with him. They had dated for a hand full of years and when she had moved in they broke up after about two months. They were essentially drinking buddies that fought viciously when they lived together. As Jason turned 55 he retired from the park department. His retirement income wasn't much but it was enough to keep him high in front of a television most of the time. When Jason received his monthly stipend he would leave the confines of his home to visit a local bar. Bill Martin the bartender had been a co-worker in the park department and was also retired. Jason hadn't been in to see Bill for almost a year when he appeared one afternoon. Bill noticed that Jason had lost a lot of weight, he didn't look healthy. At first there was small talk between the two and then Jason became drunker then usual. When Bill's shift was done it was early evening and he drove Jason home. In the car Jason told him that he was sick. “Looks like I may be checking out Billy.” “That bad?” “Yea. Pretty much.” “Sorry to hear that.” “You live and then you die.” Jason said, resigned to his fate. “You know what I always wanted to do but never got around to it.” Jason asks. “What?” “Ride a motorcycle.”
“Why didn't you?” Bill wants to say something, but how do you cheer up a dying man. Bill helped Jason to his home. The next day he would be dead. When Bill attended the wake he sat listening a woman talking in back of him. “He was spooked by crows and motorcycles and he wouldn't tell me why. He would talk about it when he was drunk blaming his fear for something, I could never figure it out.” Then she laughed softly and said “He would be real serious and then say 'or maybe I'm just an *******.' then he would laugh.” Copyright 2008 John Talleos |
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