As she walked down the dark, wet street,
she felt colder. She was now about two
blocks from her apartment. As she turned
at the corner, she stopped and waited for
the 'Walk' signal. She threw her cigarette
butt on the ground and lifted her foot to
put it out of habit. She then realized she
was shoeless and the fear and panic rushed
through her in an unwelcome homecoming. She
took a deep breath and tried to forget it.
The light turned from red to white and she
did as the sign prodded and continued to walk.
She saw ahead of her the corner that was ten
or so feet from her house. She knew it well.
While some thought her crazy to live in this
area, she loved it. That corner felt friendly.
It had everything she could ever want all there
together. The faces felt like family. There
was the restaurant, the music store, the fast
food joint, the bookstore, the bus stop, even
a few places she'd never been in. And, of
course, her morning saviour-Starbucks Coffee.
As she looked up at its' green and white logo,
she knew in no uncertain terms that she was on
a mission....to walk right past it. Past it
and directly into Sahir's Party Store. As far
as friendly faces went, good ol' Sahir was as
familiar as they could ever get, especially
lately. As she walked into the brightly-lit
store, it took a second for her eyes to adjust.
"Ah, hello tonight, miss!" she heard the
familiar accent say. It wasn't Sahir tonight,
though. It was his son. She couldn't quite
place his name. Maybe Bohi? She replied
"Hello, my friend, no Sahir tonight?" "No,no
Sahir is ill" the troubled looking cashier said.
"How ill?" "Very ill." the man answered
looking downwards. No surprise, Sera thought
to herself. Wait a minute! Was she herself
believing this mad, mad, story?
She realized she hadn't even decided,
didn't want to. Later, later..she told herself,
in safety..in peace.....in drink! She turned
and strutted down the isle she had walked many
times. She knew it by heart; it was a sub-
conscience event. Even though she couldn't
recall, if asked, how many steps it was or where
the handle exactly protruded, the six would
appear in her fist. She knew she could do this
walk in her sleep. Hell, some of the nights she
was so drunk, sleep walking it would have been
easier. Past the microwave sandwiches, past the
domestic beer, exactly to the one door she wanted.
She opened the door and heard the familiar break
of the seal. The cool air tickled by her as she
reached in and effortless extracted her prey.
As she pulled the familiar carton of bottles,
she said under her breath, "Labatts" and let out
a sigh, "and am I blue!" She walked up to the
counter to ring it up. Sahir was much friendlier.
He seemed to know her and joked with everyone.
Everyone liked him. Sahir seemed to know everyone,
or maybe just their pains. She thought all this
while blankly staring at the six pack of beer.
Labatt's Blue. She never really looked at the
package too often. It had an artsy design, very
sleek. It usually just looked like beer, which
usually looked like about forty minutes. She had
loved this beer ever since she first tasted it in
Canada. She was real young and didn't think she
would. A friend, Travis, made her drink it on a
dare. Life was so carefree then. Why did she
feel that she could never go back? Why did she
feel so old only days after her twentieth birthday?
"Your usual tonight, Ma'am?" Bohi queried.
"Huh? Oh! yeah...yeah!" she groggily answered.
Bohi turned around and moved another familiar
gesture: top shelf, four from the right. Captain
Morgan Spiced Rum. Yep, her and the captain would
have something to talk about tonight! "Anything
else, Ma'am?" "Yeah, um, gimmie two packs of
Marlboro reds in the box. It wasn't often she
was called Ma'am. She didn't like it, didn't
think she deserved it. Maybe she just didn't want
to be one. Had Sahir had been there he'd have
everything ready in a bag, and call her Sera.
They'd laugh together at her puke green Kimono.
Maybe she'd even tell him how sick with fear and
confusion she really was. Maybe she wouldn't.
Maybe she'll tell him next time. Maybe there
won't be a next time. With this thought she
grabbed the bag laid forty dollars on the counter,
and started out the door. Her mind so one-tracked,
she almost slipped on the mat she knew all too well.
"Wait! your change!" "keep it," Sera spoke, feeling
the stubble of rubber under her open feet, "Buy
Sahir some flowers from me." That being said she
walked back out into the dark night, and supposed
she knew. She had just bought flowers for Sahir's
grave.
Off in the distance, Sera heard a noise. It
was an obnoxious, possibly familiar noise. It was
the 'caw' of a bird. Why, all of a sudden, was any
attention being paid to a dirty bird? They were
everywhere! but why did it seem an issue tonight?
'Caw!' 'Caw!' She stopped and looked around she
searched the skies.
No bird was found. It was too dark to tell.
The only lights being cast from a handful of neon
signs. Just a bird. They're everywhere. Man,
what a day! she thought, You know you're high-strung
when a common bird makes you stop and look. It
sure will feel good to get home. As she turned
right at her familiar corner, she heard it once
again-'CAW!' She looked up directly into the
streetlight. Temporary blinded, she adjusted her
eyes. At first moist, then hazy, they came to a
focal point. Sure enough, a bird. A black one, no
less. She couldn't really see it. Just an outline
in the way the light blurred and spread into the
blackness of night.
A weird feeling came over her. The bird seemed
familiar. A bird, seeming familiar? It must have
been the bird she saw at the metro station. Yeah,
that's what it was, the same one, she thought. How do
I know this? What distinguishes one insignificant
black bird from another? and who cares? She started
to walk away, still slightly transfixed on the bird.
She found herself walking faster as her heart
followed suit. She was scared! She started
to run, even though it was only five feet. She turned
around completely and fumbled with the key in the lock.
It was so dark in the sky she couldn't be certain if
it was still on its perch. She felt if she turned her
head, even for one second, that bird would surely
attack her. Suddenly, with a click, the door opened
and as her weight was already pressed hard against it,
it opened suddenly, and she toppled to the floor.
She landed on her back.
Still on the lookout, still on guard (for what
she did not know!). She picked herself up, still
cradling the bag. She leapt up quickly and slammed
the door. She wasted no time in locking both the
locks. She looked around the living room. It took
her a second to calm down and realize that there was
safety. Nothing or no bird would scare her or harm
her now. She was in her two safe spots: This small,
clean, efficiency apartment, and this strong, heavy
bottle of rum.
She sat down and opened her pack of cigarettes.
She thought to herself, the battle was not
over for the evening, though now she felt safe. She
had an arduous journey ahead of her. That is trying
to make some sense of the nights' events! As
she lit a smoke, she pulled a sweaty beer from the
crumpled brown bag. And with a sick feeling in her
stomach knew she was in for a long night. She had
to replay and consider the words the (now deceased!)
priest had told her in his mad ranting. She
twisted the cap off her beer and swallowed a huge
gulp, larger than usual. She sighed and said
aloud, "First things first, I suppose I should
decide weather or not I'm crazy!"
A nervous breakdown was definitely in the works.
Crazy life, crazy coincidences. She was only twenty
and felt like a woman of fifty or more years.
But, somehow it just wouldn't click. She was
in control. Life hadn't changed that much lately,
except for the priest.
And what of that priest? "The priest. Whew!"
as she reached for the bottle of rum. It opened
with a crack. She leaned back in her over-sized
leather lazy-boy. The bottle balancing on her right
knee, lightly held by her unthinking grip. How was
he at the right place at the right time? Or for him,
the wrong place...
She took a gulp of the rum, and noticed her
cigarette had turned to ash, dangling by its butt,
lodged in a slot on the ashtray. Suddenly a thought
hit her, and she looked its direction as if it did
physically hit her. My name!! He knew my name!
How could anyone know her name? Her REAL name?!
No one on the East Coast, especially Georgetown, would
even know her to be Sera, yet alone Seraph! Thanks to
her "job" she herself would be more likely to Kiki.
Kiki, the girls called her. The guys-well, anything
they wanted. Her friends.....Well, they were all dead.
She passed off that thought and continued. She knew no
one alive that knew her real name. As a matter of
truth, she had forgotten HERSELF!
***END OF PART TWO***