Pick up the phone
when the evening is dim, and the air full of sage.
the smoke fills the window and floats passed the window.
the candles are lit and my mood is light,
no sound but the light patter of rain.
who is home, I am sure everyone is on this raining day.
at least almost everybody, except Ashlan Wickland, the father of a prestigious lawyer, the grandfather of a famous youtube star, and the widower of a politician.
He was surrounded by prestige and he sat at a cheap dive bar.
Ashlan had four hundred dollars in cash in his pocket and already was on his second whiskey coke , that only cost three dollars fifty cents each.
but he didn’t feel at home in those fancy places with those flashy people- he grow up a farmer’s son in Edger, Wisconsin, now he was a millionaire hiding in the shadows of a cheap dive bar in Brooklyn New York.
Before his partner had died they lived together in Manhattan- right in view of New Jersey and Lady liberty. But without the out going nature of the love of his life to be beside him as they bought bottle service, spent hours and hours dancing and laughing together… Manhattan was just shiny on the outside and no longer made him feel good in the inside.
He sold his Manhattan condo for half a million to an “aspiring” actress who was going to star in a movie with Meryl Streep. She looked more like a porn star the way she held herself, and had her chest done- but being eighty nine years old, Ashlan just wanted out and bought a decent home in east brooklyn for $856,000. Wrote out the check in full and refurnished on his own leisure.
Ashlan only spent a year in Brooklyn after leaving Manhattan, it was already a year that past when his partner was hit by a bus driver.
He reminisced through the burning of whiskey on his lips. After the two whiskey cokes he decided to retire with a shot of Jameson and tipped the bartender two hundred on his way out. This was the last day he was drinking in Brooklyn, he had to get home to bed and wake up early to catch a flight.
when the evening is dim, and the air full of sage.
the smoke fills the window and floats passed the window.
the candles are lit and my mood is light,
no sound but the light patter of rain.
It rains a lot in New York, this is why Ashland had to leave. Outside his home, which was all packed and boxed up, he watched the rain fall to the pavement. He felt this amazing feeling of release. He was ready to move on. Sixty five years, of a beautiful companionship, raising beautiful children and making astounding achievements- Ashland felt ready and he said one last prayer, thanking the gods he believed for his beautiful life.
The next morning his driver packed up and checked his bags as he dined in a Skyline Perks club sipping Habiki, one of the finest Japanese Whiskeys. When leaving New York he had the urge to fall to his knees and kiss the ground that had been his home of opportunity, and love. He didn’t though instead he picked up a little stone near one of the sewers and gave it one last prayer of gratitude.
Even saying good by to his driver and paying him his sign out for the annual contract he signed for work, he felt grateful. They exchanged a long embrace, feeling the internal thanks for one another. The driver’s name was Luis, and befriended Ashlan immediately after he was hired. He was hired literally a life time ago, and the grace they felt for each other could never be paid in money, and so this genuine good bye had to do. Ashlan told Luis if he needed anything at all to email and with that the greatest of friends, employee, and years together were parted with bother their pockets and hearts full.
when the morning is sunny, and the air full of natures best aroma.
the clouds fill the sky and floats passed the car window.
the cigars are lit and my mood is light,
no sound but the jazz on the radio.
When the piolet announced the landing time, Ashlan awoke. His old heart beat fast, and quickly he ordered more whiskey to ease the anxiety.
He saw field upon fields and he felt like a young boy again.
He was three drinks in and because of his stature, the man didn’t even check for his license as he dropped a few thousand cash to rent a car.
He ripped the Mercedes-Benz GT out the lot and drove, drove and drove. He hadn’t been in a car without his driver in almost fifty years and he loved it.
Ashlan let out the loudest scream of delight. He let out the loudest holler of release, the most rowdiest of laughter of excitement.
when the euphorbia started to settle he picked up his phone.
He parked at a rest stop to drink water, sober up and make a call.
It was ringing.
There was an elderly man on the other end, thick midwestern accent.
Ashlan? Oh my god! is that you?
With tears in his eyes, the widowed millionaire, most prestigious man of one of the busiest cities in the United States became the young boy of Edger on his father’s farm.
Brother, I am home.
He let the tears fall, for he was the richest man in the world.