Prisoned am I to this shell of the dust
It speaks of only fiction that I could never trust
Captured alive in this sinful estate
Vexed am I to see I do the things that I hateRip out the framework leave no stone unturned
Until my heart forgets all that my flesh ever learned
Tear down the structure till nothing is left
God deliver me from this body of death
***
Sam sitting at the piano after dinner last night. Matt is helping in the kitchen but Sam has finished his jobs and so he sits, picking out the notes before Lochlan finally offered to play the song if Sam would sing. They proceeded to bash out an impromptu and beautiful version of Wolves At The Gate's Lowly that saw us all stop to listen, almost at once. Sam was somewhat shy about the attention but unfaltering in his choice of song, Lochlan was not shy, never is. As ever Lochlan is a showman and will volunteer to entertain at any given moment but he loves to give the spotlight away just as much.
(Someone asked me last week if I liked being a carny or a sideshow performer more. I would pick carny any day. I never liked the schedule for the circus. So much training. So much preparation and then you had to be waiting forever for your show to begin. In contrast, I had so much more freedom on the midway. I was a lot younger and far more naive and I just remember the lights and how I had to stay within sight of Lochlan, which gave me a good six hundred yard latitude in at least two directions from the wheel and I could daydream because I had no weight, no responsibility. Performing is focus and discipline. Fairs? Fairytales, through and through.)
***
Late last evening the rain held off so we had a bonfire on the beach, bringing our picnic basket with glasses and a forty of the good whiskey for those who drink, and bottles of cream soda for those who don't. We sat around the fire and talked softly, if at all, eight of us available to wash ourselves in smoke and salt, the stuff of dreams and the best way to fall asleep, bathed in the acrid sting of fire and water. It's magical to me and I'm pretty sure it's what set Ben off this morning, still on a high from yesterday's strides and major victories, both physically and mentally. He is almost at his best at this point and my heart has stopped skipping beats, trembling, hesitating and tripping, running flat out ahead while looking behind me just in case he isn't keeping up.
He is again, at last.
***
I went down and had a coffee this morning, early, after Ben went back to sleep and Lochlan failed to stir at all. In the dark by myself. I sat on the bench where we put on our wetsuits by the big patio doors in winter (when it's too cold to do it on the docks) and I watched Jacob pacing the rock wall at the end of the yard. At first I'm annoyed that he didn't let me know he was here, didn't come in, didn't wade into my dreams, pantlegs and sleeves rolled up but still soaked from the surf, didn't wake me up. Now he's just there and I'll see him all of the sudden and that's how I know my brain is still broken, tenderized and then stuffed with my own heart, rolled up, pinned and burned until blackenend, whereupon they will tell me to 'smarten up' and 'stop scaring us' but I can't help it.
I run and run, as always looking back over my shoulders for the monsters to catch up with me, and I turn and fall flat on my face. When I jump up, yelling I'm okay, he shakes his head sadly and then I can't see him any more because the rain is too heavy.