Tennyson’s Song
Tennyson’s Song
David Brancaccio was a success. By every measure, he had risen to the top of his field and was considered “la creme de la creme” by his peers. He had everything he desired, everything anyone could want, except for one thing, and for this, he turned to his headset where he could easily slip into a new world.
479-1 Dad and Son
“Why do you always stop mid-sentence as if an ending isn’t necessary?” Marcus questioned as he sat with his hands open wide, resting on his worn jeans. She looked at him with eyes of steel, open, yet hardened. “…because it isn’t. There’s no point.”
Weeks had gone by like this. Each day bringing more and more complexity until the thoughts had curved themselves up and down the pathways of his mind and wound up tangled. All questions had been dodged.
He rose in anger. “Wake up, Stephanie! How are we ever going to fix anything if we can’t even have a conversation?” he asked in a raised voice, one that he didn’t realize would wake their 4-year old until it was too late.
“I don’t have anything to say.” She bit back, as she focused her eyes on the clock and brushed her blond hair away from her face.
“You should.” Jack began to cry from the other room and they looked at each other in contempt. “Now look what you’ve done.”
“I’ve gotta get out of here,” Stephanie said briskly and grabbed her bag. “Where the hell do you have to go?” Marcus asked. He was clenching his teeth by this point.
“I’ve just got to get out,” she murmured.
~
The house always seemed empty as soon as she left. At times, when it was just he and Jack, Marcus felt nervous like he’d been stuck on stage without a script. Jack moved into the kitchen, toting his Snoopy blanket behind him. “Where’s Mommy?” “Did you have a good sleep?” his dad responded as he picked his son up and tried to make him forget the growing sense of absence.
“What do you want for breakfast?” Jack wasn’t that easily deterred. He wanted nothing more than to have his mother’s embrace. It had been awhile since he had.
“She’s on a trip, remember?” he said, giving into the sadness he felt for his son. At times it was too much to bear.
His son’s eyes cowered and tiny drops of pain could be seen sitting on his lower eyelids, considering a jump, but he habitually brushed them away. “Okay, I guess.” Marcus looked at his son, draped his arm around his tiny shoulder and brought him in for a hug.
Sometimes David flipped from one story to another when things became too uncomfortable.
654-1 Happy Young Couple
It was a beautiful morning in downtown Boston and Cameron was sitting at his desk engrossed in a project. A call came in suddenly, interrupting his train of thought. It was his shaggy haired, hippy friend, Johnny Sampson, from his days at NYU.
“Hey Johnny. It's been awhile. How's everything?” he said jovially, falling back into the casual manner they used in their college days.
“Hi! Things are really good,” he chuckled in his characteristically goofy tone. “What’s up with you?”
“Nada mucho. Just doing a little bit of work here, but nothing intense. How’s it going? It’s been awhile.”
“Yeah, I know. We just got back from Argentina actually, and I was calling to see if you guys wanted to come over for dinner tonight? We’ve got something cool to share.” “Sounds great. I just need to check with Liz.”
~
“Hey Babe, do we have anything going on tonight?” Cameron asked as he poked his chopsticks around in his chow fun. “John just called and he wants to know if we can hang. Says he’s got something important to tell us. Never know what that could be.” Last time they’d told them they were going on a month’s vacation to Thailand and came back with a child. They were the adventurous types.
“Oh, I wonder what it is…,” she joked while adjusting her mindset to fit around a night at their friends’ instead of dinner in their cozy apartment, “…another unexpected addition to the family?”
“Maybe,” he said lightheartedly. “So, are we in?”
“Of course.”
Other times, it was as if he just couldn’t decide which one to stick with. He’d always had trouble with commitment.
479-2 Dad and Son
Jack sat on the living room floor covered in green paint.
"I'm making you a picture, Daddy. It's gonna be so cool.” His big brown eyes had the look of anticipation. He wanted to make his dad proud. Marcus looked down at him and felt a warm sense of happiness begin to take hold of his heart. Life was much better now. It had been hard in the beginning, but time had done its job.
"I'm sure it will. You always make great artwork."
"Daddy?" He said as he looked up at his father's scruffy beard and goat-like mustache. "Am I good at art like Mommy?"
"Yes. She was a very good artist, and you are too."
His eyes lowered for a moment, ”Do you think she'll ever come back?" “I don’t know, but I promise I’ll always be here.”
“Thanks Daddy,” he said as he rose to look into his father’s eyes, “I love you.”
654-2 Happy Young Couple
“Lizzie, you looked so beautiful tonight,” Cameron said as he leaned down to kiss her cheek. “I’ll forever wonder what made you marry a loser like me.”
“Stop it. Really,” she said in a kind but playful manner. She knew that she was the lucky one. After her first husband’s death, she never thought she’d love again. “I’m gonna have to teach you a lesson if you don’t quit complimenting me.”
“Oh, yeah? Well, then…you’re amazing,” he swooned, provoking her—a lesson sounded like fun.
“You asked for it,” she said as she picked up a fringed, bohemian pillow and chucked it at him as hard as she could. “Incoming!”
Cameron ran around the couch trying to dodge her offensive, but the pillow landed him squarely in the face. “You’ll pay, my princess,” he said in his Dracula voice as he tossed it back towards her and simultaneously jumped onto the couch to grab her. They kissed and she kicked off her moccasins. Life was good.
On this night, David had taken off his device, in the middle of Happy Young Couple, and fallen asleep. After a few hours, he awoke with a start. The blinds were shaking, smacking against their frames, and from what he could tell, it was an earthquake. He lay in bed, half awake, trying to wait it out, when he began to think about the city around him. He’d moved there when he was a young man, when the world was a game to step into, to conquer, and all of the energy was exciting, but over time his fire fizzled.
Outside he could hear some type of crashing sound. Falling buildings? Trees? He didn’t know, but he decided to get up and look. As he steadied himself, he made his way over to the window. He could see the colorful lights blinking on and off as they always did at Jose’s Taqueria and Xoxo Cafe. Everything looked normal. He realized it was just a quake and hoped that nothing would hit him.
But something did, and it wasn’t a picture frame. It was a somber feeling of isolation that had been building up inside of him, creeping up his spine like an icy snake, for months. What’s this all for? he thought to himself. He was living in a gorgeous studio with a ridiculously expensive Cartier watch and a different girl in his bed most nights, but what could he say for himself? What did he really have? A six figure income? A healthy portfolio? He thought about it. If the walls around him collapsed, crushing his body, would anyone care? The answer was “no”. He didn’t brighten anyone’s day. He’d never put any time into that—too much risk—but at this moment he could see that he might have missed something.
After all, he had no Jack and he was no Marcus. There was no wife to lose, and as for Lizzie, the closest he’d ever had to love was an old girlfriend from college, “the one that got away,” not that he’d tried to hold on or anything. His body began to ache.
And then, as if his thoughts and the quake were in a secret communion, a green, Italian vase that his mother had given him for his family one day, danced its way off of the shelf and crashed loudly onto the ground as the Earth let loose its last jolt before resting in utter silence. David was left to stare into the utter darkness.
Written by L. Masaracchia, May 2016
All Rights Reserved ©2016.
Do not print or post without written consent of the author, L. Masaracchia.
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