He had to make sure he was going into
the right church. This wasn’t just a matter
of trying to get out of the rain
for a couple of years.

There were two
at the dangerous foot of Television Mountain.
The other one right across the street
had a bad habit of holding onto its parishioners
for a long longer than they were actually planning
to be alive.

This guy didn’t really know
anything about that. He was from out
of town and heard about the less hazardous
of the two churches from a kind-hearted waitress
who worked at a truck-stop diner
on the sixth-floor of a beautiful,
brand-new apartment complex on Land’s Sake Ave.

She had a wooden leg
and was willing to give up a tip
if it meant talking about the grandchildren
she was going to love as soon as she had children.

His heart went out to her. It always did
for people like that. For years it was a muscle
trying to prove it could commit murder
and barely have to work at hiding out
until the heat died down.

Consequently
he couldn’t handle waking up to find
that he was once again hanging over a hotel balcony
by his feet.

He was slow to follow a loved one leaving forever
by train like they do in the movies
that haven’t been made for years

He had to be mindful
of the fact that he could only talk
a lot of shit about being young.

But he still had to deal in as much empathy
as he could get from a five-minute story
that didn’t quite get all the way to sobbing.

After she walked off
he left her a tip anyway and decided
to take in the church first. Then he could go
downtown and find out
if she still dyed her hair jet black
and cashed cheques with the blood
still under her fingernails.

Getting to Television Mountain took forever.

The bus broke down four times.
The driver was missing half of his face.
The children in the first two rows were absolutely corrupt.
The music reminded him of all that rain in his early years.
The poker game ended with violence that reached sideshow grandeur.

It was a lot of hassle
for twenty bucks and pint of his best blood.
But he got out of it alive.
He reached the bottom of Television Mountain.

He got a candle lit on the seventh try
and knelt down the way he imagined to be right.

He was there for a long time.
Getting out of the rain for a couple of years
only figured into it a little.

Old women walked by
and remarked about the young man
who seemed to have more conviction than most.

That wasn’t entirely true.

By Tuesday
he was ready to go downtown
and find out what she had been up to.

05/05/2011

Author's Note: I like this one. I like how it turned out.

Posted on 05/05/2011
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