Chapter 1: Barely Breathing
Gabe lay on his back, guitar crossing his abdomen, fingers absent mindedly strumming against the strings to no particular melody or in no particular time. Random cords, almost perfectly executed, resonate, lasting, but without thought or movement. He has spent the last hour or so just lying there, watching the pain peel as they say, and listening to her practice through the walls. He can’t stop thinking about the total randomness, of this situation. A clerical error transformed him from Alexander to Alexandria, and landed him and her into the same apartment. Total randomness, or perhaps divine providence? That is, if you believe in that kind of thing.
As memories surfaced, the strumming changed. It was funny how his mind operated, applying soundtracks to events that didn’t have them. Karate tournaments were often remembered with an accompaniment of Duel of the Fates, or Kungfu Fighting, depending on his mood or the theme of the memory. His second girlfriend often brought up the song She Fucking Hates Me, by Puddle of Mudd, as it played on the radio when he was driving away after breaking up with her. Memories of Cailey, the sad ones, the happy ones, sitting with her on the peer fishing, or stomping through mud puddles, running through the rain, they always brought up Duncan Sheik’s Barely Breathing. Odd, considering the song came out long after they were parted, they never heard it together, never played while they were in the same room, yet something about it caught to her memory, adhered itself to long open wounds like a Band-Aid.. Even now, as his eyes watch ephemeral images of their younger selves swinging together in the rain down at Jackson park, drenched and laughing, his fingers strummed the cords in slow, steady melody.
The hours drift.
Night came and went. A peaceful night. A night spent in remembrance. He must have relived every minute of his childhood his mind could muster, including that horrible day in the sixth grade, where in front of Jimmy, Kyle and the lot, he told her he didn’t want to see her anymore. ‘We aren’t friends’, he had said. Words he would rip away if he could, stuff back into the crook of nothingness they had been born of, and let the moment pass. Gladly, would he chose to suffer the ridicule of those three, if it meant preserving their friendship. Even knowing they’d soon split anyways, perhaps it would have made yesterday’s reunion something of a joyous event, and not a painfully ripped bandage that instead of revealing a closed wound, showed how it festered over the years. Or perhaps, he simply focused too much on it. Perhaps she didn’t even remember?
But then why was yesterday so awkward between them both?
He woke to his alarm, feeling renewed, refreshed, which didn’t make any sense as he slept only a few spare hours between dawn and the start of his day. He showered and dressed quickly, without ceremony or delay. A pair of blue jeans, brown suspenders, a tee, and a button down over it, with his brown bucket hat to cover his shaggy head, and in socked feet he come to stand before her bedroom door. He debated knocking, grew nervous about the idea of waking her up, and counseled himself about how stupid he was being. He could do a kata in front of three well trained masters of his art without hesitation or concern, but when the thought came to bringing himself to rapping on the door, to facing the worst mistake of his young life, he found he was all knotted up inside. The prospect is chilling, and the butterflies died and formed a cold stone in the pit of his stomach as his fingers rapped the wooden door, and he called her name.
“Cailey?”
There was a noise, but muffled and soft through the door. He wasn’t sure if it was a hold on, or a go the hell away, or some mid-sleep groan, a hushed curse, maybe. The moments that passed crawled, and three times he closed his eyes for what seemed like forever to steady himself, though, probably was for more like seconds than forevers. Still, the door was closed. “I’m sorry to bother you, I just thought that we should catch up. I’ve got to work today, till noon, but I thought it’d be nice if we could meet up afterwards. I know it’s a bit of a drive, but how about that place back home on main, Mary’s Diner. If it’s still there I mean. If not, we can find something else.”
He was barely breathing… and yet he smiled as the song played itself in the back of his mind.
“Cailey?”
