Excerpt from Unnamed Novel, "Finding Paradise Lost"

 Sitting back on a semi-slick leather seat of a cab, that looked like it had rolled down a few hills, Jacob sniffed the stale air. The air smelt of something between patchouli and ass, he was not really sure whether to vomit or laugh. The driver rambled on about something in a half-broken dialect that seemed to resemble something mid-eastern with just a hint of British slang. Not really paying attention he just nodded his head trying to relax enough to help the headache he had go away.

Rolling down the window to peer up at all the bright lights he wondered if the people who came to this city, were attracted to the lights like a moth is attracted to a flame. It all seems bright and pretty until you get too close and get burned. I suppose that’s why they call this the city of lost souls. Las Vegas, home to everyone that the rest of society won't take, the city of unwanted refugees. This was his home; he loved to hate it, and hated to love it.

It seemed him that in the city of sin that a cab is like a mobile confessional. The priests of a downtrodden society, who give us absolution by simply listening to our problems, no matter how many times they have heard it before. Talking to a complete stranger seems easier because they don’t seem to judge you, let alone know who you are. Your chance of ever seeing them again is about as good as leaving Vegas happy. It happens, but not very often.

He imagined now that the smell of ass in the car was a metaphor for all the shit that people left behind. The patchouli was perhaps a manifestation of all the pent-up sexual frustration we all inevitably go through, especially in a city where sex sells everything. Then again, he thought, it could be just something to help cover-up the smell of ass. It didn’t matter; the cab finally arrived at its destination. He tipped the cabbie more than he should have and stepped out into the warm night ready for anything that would come his way.

Looking up to read the signs, he carefully found Banal Airlines, which oddly meant bland, not some foreign and exotic country. He smiled at the thought of it. He caught a glimpse of it at the far end of the long row of check-in stations.

Upset now, he reasoned that cabbies seem to know where to go, so long as it serves them a fare. Somewhat like a priest he thought, taking tidings to guide you to everlasting life. Only problem is, that you don’t know if it’s the right gate.

He grabbed his duffel bag; the driver had kindly placed on the sidewalk before running off to his next confession. He found it amazing how you could fit your whole life into such a small bag and never really appreciate the humor in it. Remembering to make sure he had his ticket, he finally headed toward the beginning of a long adventure. He checked in and soon found a seat near the gate that seemed comfortable enough to sleep in until they called for passengers.

A loud sigh woke him, abruptly. He lifted his hat to see where the noise had come from. A young attractive girl sat with arms and legs crossed with a sour expression on her face. She had obviously been crying. He quickly closed his eyes hoping she had not noticed him. He really didn't want to get involved in other peoples affairs. Unfortunately she had seen him, and excitedly said, “Oh, you are awake, I am sorry to bother you I just didn't know what else to do. Could you please just pretend to know me? I’m trying to hide from someone and I really need some help”.

Jacob stayed quiet hoping she would find some other patsy to fall for her sob story and sad eyes. A moment later thinking she had left he felt a strong push, “I know you’re awake. So stop pretending to be asleep and help me!” She exclaimed, slapping his shoulder in a teasing fashion.

He sat up quickly and fixed his hat, looking her square in the eyes and grumbled, “Fine! What is it you want? How did you know I was awake anyway?” She reached out her hand and laughed, “I’m Amber, and you are?”

“Jacob, the name is Jacob. But why are you bothering me?” He said slightly aggravated, shaking her small hand, noticing the odd strength she had.

“Actually, Jacob. I really don’t need anything. I heard you snoring and thought it was cute. Then I noticed your ticket and saw you were on the same flight with me, and figured you would like to know they are about to call passengers.” She said in a hurriedly and excited way.

Jacob was angry but intrigued by this strange girl. He looked at her with a quiver of a smile escaping his lips. She had noticed, and was happy she had done what she did. Jacob couldn't help but look at her. She looked amazing, in a rugged half insane sort of way he thought. Her hair was a mess of curls bouncing wildly around her small face. She had eyes that, he had an eerie suspicion, could peer right through you. Her small frame was unmatched by her obvious strength in personality and will. Jacob couldn't believe he was thinking about a girl he just met, in such detail. He barely ever noticed people, or rather never would like to be noticed at all by most people. She smiled at him in a crooked smirk befitting any devious mastermind accomplishing their mission. He laughed and asked, “What are you smirking at?”

“Nothing, I just thought your furrowed brow was cute. You seem to be thinking rather hard on something. What is it?” Amber asked in a modest childlike way.

He thought for a moment longer, and with a questioning voice he asked, “Nothing much, I was just wondering why you went to such lengths to get my attention. I mean the fake tears, the pouted lips, the sad blue eyes and last, the messy hair? Why such attentions to detail when you could of easily just have shaken me awake and said, “Hey, your flight is being called?”

She looked a little upset now. She crossed her arms and turned slightly away. Reminding him of a surly girl who didn't get what she wanted for her birthday. She finally spoke, in a half defensive manner and half apologetic. She said, “Well, first of all I was only doing you a favor. Secondly, my hair is not messy it’s just… natural. I can’t do anything about my sad blue eyes, and the rest… well it’s just that I thought if you saw a pretty girl in need you would talk to her. I really wanted to talk to you, OK. There I said it, I liked you and didn't know how to approach you.” She said and put her face in her hands from embarrassment and sobbed, “So I understand if you don’t want to talk to such a dork.”

He saw her hopeful eyes peek out from her soft hands, waiting for him to apologize. Suddenly the intercom overhead rang out, “Calling all passengers for Banal Airlines, Flight 433. Please report to gate B6.” Jacob grabbed his coat and bag and headed for the gate. He paused shortly and turned around toward the most beautiful and quite possibly the craziest girl he had ever met. Grabbing her bag, he threw it over his shoulder and held out his hand toward her. “Oh come on Amber, take my hand. You’re not going to miss our flight are you?”

She looked up, tears in her eyes she wiped them away, and asked, “Are you saying you don’t care that I did all that corny stuff just to get your attention?

He laughed and said, “I actually thought it was cute, a little corny, but cute nonetheless. Besides, if I didn't want talk to a dork, I couldn't look myself in mirror every morning and say, “Today, you find out where you belong. Today, you will become the man you are destined to be.” If that isn't being a dork, I don’t know what is.”

She reached out and let him take her hand in his and pull her towards his body, which is exactly where she wanted to be. Smiling at him, she reached up towards his face and leaned in. He was sure he was imagining this; he closed his eyes and the hair on his body stood waiting in anticipation with him. Suddenly her hand was on his shoulder, he took a breath, and she grabbed her bag and took off toward the gate, turning back only to see him stammer awkwardly for a moment, she smiled. He shook off the awkward feeling and took off after her.

Standing in line waiting to board, the world went quiet. It reminded him of those moments in movies when something substantial was happening to the main character emotionally, and slowly soft music starts playing to represent the mood. To him, it was as if everything moved in slow motion. He noticed Amber at the front of the line, her smile wide as could be, the soft curls of her hair danced delicately off her face like a careful ballet. He knew in that moment, that this was his beginning. Her, this flight, and everything surrounding them was where his life really began. He didn't really know how he understood this, but it was as if his soul was aching to tell him the secrets of the world. He boarded the plain, waiting patiently like he never had before. He smiled at the nice attendant welcoming him on his journey. Drifting past the other passengers in the front he noticed an odd man, well normal really, Something was out of place with him, he didn't know what but something just struck him as odd. The man was sweating profusely, but then again he thought, this is Vegas. He found his seat Isle 22B. He looked down to see a grin as wide as the pacific ocean. Amber, seated in 22A, laughed at the serendipity of things. He couldn't help but smile back and laugh. He stowed his luggage overhead, grabbed his notebook and pen and sat down in his seat.

"What do you think the chances are that we would be sitting right next to each other and yet still meeting before hand? It has to be astronomical, I bet." babbled Amber, trying to strike up a conversation. "Well, you figure there are roughly 300 passengers on this plane, plus we would generally be in the same area, and also given the fact the the average age of the rest of the passenger seem to be at least ten to twenty years older than both of us. I would say it was a pretty small chance." He joked. Her face went pale and it looked as though she were about to cry. "However, the chances of us having this good of chemistry, and also the chances of me actually liking you were astronomical. Yet look at us now. Thick as thieves we are!" Her face lit up and she hugged him. No words, just a hug. Longer than it should have been for most people, but oddly just right for both of them. Jacob couldn't remember the last time he was hugged. Maybe third grade, he thought, but that was an case of mistaken identity from Becky Shoemaker, who thought he was Billy Johnson. A mistake he payed for with a slap in the face.

He shook off the memory, and looked at Amber and wondering what she was thinking. She smiled at him and laughed. “That look on your face, such deep thought for such a young and handsome face.” Jacob lay back in his chair and smiled, eyes closed and relaxed. A sigh of relief left his body in a slow shudder. He spoke softly not moving, “Good night.” She laughed lightly "Good night too you too." His eyes were heavy with the memories of the past and slowly he slipped into his dreams, with only the soft rumbling of the engines to sooth him.

Love with Laughter

I wrote this short story back when I worked as an Office Manager in late 2003. The story is based partially on real events, but the majority of it is fiction and is an experiment in a new writing style. I am open to comments, criticism, and feedback. Thank you all - J.D.C.

Love with Laughter
By Johnny Crow © 2003

My name is Darren Anderson. This story is but a small part in the opus of my life, grand as it all was, this story has more depth, happiness, sadness, intrigue, irony and heartbreak than one would only expect in an opera. Perhaps first I shall tell you details about my life that are essential to the story. The only place that seems a fitting start is the beginning itself.

I grew up a small boy, a part of two separate families. Not wholly belonging to either, it seems this would be the mark that I would carry with me throughout my life. I can say this made me have a tough skin. However, in reality all I really ever wanted was to be loved. Anyway I grew up in many different places, which helped to facilitate this feeling of not really belonging anywhere. I had a few friends that I did stick by throughout the years, with phone calls, letters and the occasional long distance visit. I had few girlfriends, and fewer opportunities.

My life seemed to stabilize when I entered High School. I worked hard, and tried to finalize my plans for the future, only to again be moved away from the only friends I had, and the only life I really knew. I sank into myself, closing off the world, and soon found myself as low as I could be. Staring up at the world from the bottom of the proverbial well, it seemed as though life were just a dream, a figment just out of arms reach. Somewhere though, deep inside I felt this burning need to find my place, because even this hollow cave I was in, was not where I belonged. It was not the comfort I needed. I worked hard and I worked slowly. I set small goals, and started to accomplish them one by one. Again my life seemed to have a stabilizing affect, things were good, not great, but good. I did not have everything I wanted, but I did have something, and that is better than having nothing.

Then, she walked into my life - actually It was more like I bumped into hers. I had first seen her in passing, and turned to look, and could not breathe. It seemed as though my whole world had come to a crawl, and I could hear only the shallow rasp of my breath trying to escape. She never really noticed me, and as usual I just stood there with a dumb expression, doing nothing. My friend finally drug me away, back to normality. I had told my friend what I had experienced; he told me I just needed a good lay. This felt different somehow. It felt like no matter what happened I was supposed to know this girl, this magnificent creature whose beauty could move a mountain without a single word.

I finally got the courage to talk to her. The more we talked the more I seemed to know that there was something more to us than just passing acquaintances. I had to know what that was. We exchanged numbers, and we talked here and there, nothing big. Through some tribulation I had to come to grips with what I felt for her. I had to tell her, whatever the outcome. I could not lie to this girl. I mustered the courage and told her, and it was like a great weight was lifted, yet with nothing really to show for it. It was great. Perhaps monumental for me, but overall it was just a needed revelation. I can’t say that it made our friendship better or worse. It seemed as though we talked less, but it also seemed we understood each other more. We both were getting on with our lives.

I threw myself into work, and tried to loose myself again. You would think I had learned my lesson the first time. I caught myself this time. Realizing that things happen for a reason, and that it is more about how we deal with things that makes us who we are than the things we do. I bettered myself, again working slow and hard, staying friends, and working through the problems of daily life. Here I was months later again feeling the stabilizing affect of hard work. Still talking to her, seeing each other here and there, messages sent to a from even if only to say hi. Life was okay.

Perhaps it is my own fault for the stability in my life to be put asunder, it would seem likely that subconsciously through my very nature I was better at dealing with stress and pressure, until I had finally found what I was looking for, never really settling for just anything. It had been a few days since I had last received a message from her. Nothing out of the ordinary, as it were. The day was quiet, serene skies floated above, and the last hint of spring still lingered in the air. I received a message in the early afternoon. Surprisingly it did not say as to whom it was from, but it was addressed to me, and it said


“I still love you, and I always will.”

I was taken back, shocked at the suddenness of it all. Not really expecting this from her, I sought counsel in close friends who gave me sound advice. They said that you get nothing in life without asking for it. I decided to take the chance, not wanting to ruin a friendship, but also not wanting to miss out on the opportunity of a lifetime. I replied back to her message, choosing my words very carefully. Never having done this before I said,


“Marry me someday then.”


Maybe not the way I had wanted, but it achieved the goal nonetheless. I waited. Thinking of all the possible outcomes. Waiting longer still. Then finally a message arrived.


“Are you proposing to me?”


Of course my jaw nearly fell to the floor. I waited so long only for a clarification. Now it seemed there was no mistake in this question and she had to answer, good or bad. I sent off my reply, nothing short of eager.


“Absolutely.”


Again I waited in agony for an answer, any answer. Quicker this time, I received a reply.


“Why would you want to?”


I had not anticipated a question like this. But perhaps she did not fully understand how I felt about her. So with everything I had, I put it all out there and said,


“It was hard for me to admit my love for you. My Heart aches when I am reminded of you. I get lost in your soul when I look at you.”


I waited, not so much in agony, but more in hope now. That with all that I dared to reveal that there would be something tangible I could take away from this. And soon I received another message, and it read,


“I do not ever think I would be on this side of your affection, I knew how you felt, but I had never realized that my hopes of being by your side would come true. I have heard you say these things to others but never to me.”


Now I was intrigued. I read the response several times, to make sure I understood what she meant. It seemed good at first, a revelation that she wanted to have my affection. Yet something didn’t sit right. Something in what she said was bothering me. She said “…I have heard you say these things to others but never to me.” I have never said these things to another living soul. My worst fears are coming to fruit and I can’t contain my despair. I write back in desperation, hoping that it is not true.


“Who is this?”


I waited hoping she would just laugh at me, for being silly. Silently knowing in my heart of hearts that I was about to know first hand the pain of irony and heartbreak. A reply comes; I open it slowly, with eyes closed not wanting to read it;


“It is Veronica, this is Richard right?”


… My heart sank, and I sobbed aloud. No one around me knew why, but they knew that it was real. I had to gain composure. I needed to rectify the situation and hopefully save face. I sent a message that I know would have a similar if not easier affect on this poor girl.


“No, Veronica… this is Darren, I was under the impression that I was conversing with Kaitlyn. It is all my fault, I do hope you can forgive me for my blind error.”


And so, I slowly slipped into a cocoon. Wishing that I had never been born, thinking of all the words I said to Kaitlyn, that she would never hear, for my heart could not take the pain of suffering another loss so soon. Later, that day I received another message from Veronica.


“Darren, I too am sorry. I am sorry that we both had to go through this experience. Now knowing that neither one of those intended to hear this will ever know the truth, I am grateful. I know you are Richards’s friend, and being such, I hope that not a word of this is passed between you two. I hope your search for loves ends well.”


I believe that it is these trails and tribulations that we go through in life that make us the men and women that we are to become. I came away from this knowing more about myself, and what I am willing to give to other people. This gave me the strength to move on in life and pursue what I wanted more vigorously.

The question I bet your asking is “Did you ever tell her? Did you ever marry her?” The answer you seek does not lie in this story; the answer you seek is in you. Perhaps the rest of this story is better told another time, a lesson for another day. I pray you take guidance in these words, and know that love is out there and that we should never stop pursuing it. I leave you with these words from e.e. Cummings,


"The most wasted of all days is one without laughter.”