Testament of a Starving Artist

By Simon Owens




David,

The first thing I need to say is; don't be sad when you read this. This isn't the end for me, but rather a new beginning. Hopefully by the time you finish this you'll believe that. I've sealed this letter in an envelope marked with your name and I can't even begin to stress the words: "For your eyes only." Don't go out into the world after you read this as a person who "has seen the light" and start preaching and using this letter as your bible. The fact of the matter is; people just don't want to hear that shit. People's minds weren't meant to be changed and they'll no doubt remain stubborn to your words. Don't ruin your whole life over these facts, but live it in enjoyment because now you can finally rest assure that there is life after death and there's a beginning waiting for you at the end. Let all those other people figure that out on their own.

I'm sitting here at my kitchen table writing in a little notebook which I originally intended to be a journal. Well, I bought it two years ago and over that span of time I've managed two entries and it's been sitting in my magazine rack until now. It will serve its purpose even if it's in a way I never dreamed of.

I'm imagining the thoughts of bafflement that must be going through your head right now. You most likely walked into my apartment when nobody answered to your knock. You would walk into my bedroom and see that I'm lying on my bed. It wouldn't take you long to deduce that I'm no longer alive, considering the fact that you're a doctor. You probably walked out of my room in shock towards my phone and saw the envelope with the name David written in big block letters across its front. This isn't a suicide letter, which I'm sure has crossed your mind. After all, my life is a big pile of shit right now and it wouldn't be that hard to name off reasons to end my life. My wife is dead for one thing, killed in a tragic car accident which has robbed me of happiness. I had always dreamed as a kid of writing "the great American novel" and what do I have to show for it? I've written four books and only two have been accepted for publishing, and of those two, both of them remain stratospheres away from the bestseller's list. So to sum all this up into a few words; I'm a failed writer; a person who always dreamed of blowing out Shakespeare, but can't even out- do Dr. Seus. But despite all these hardships, I'm leaving this world as naturally as God can take me. The only resemblance to a suicide letter this note carries is the fact that it's a goodbye. I wish I could wave to you but all I can leave is my love.

I guess I owe you an explanation to all this. I don't expect you to try to piece it together by yourself or get one of your buddies to waste time with an autopsy. All the report would say anyway is that I went into respiratory arrest.

David, I saw my wife today. She was living and breathing just as if she wasn't taken by that truck.

I'm getting ahead of myself though. I have to tell you how she appeared to me.

I think I told you a few times in emails about the new novel I'm writing. Good Guys Can Win, is the title and it's something that has given me hope, for it is the best piece of writing I've ever composed. And what makes it extraordinary is the fact that I'm writing it longhand. All my life I've been using some kind of typing machine or other, but as I was sitting at the doctor's office three weeks ago, I got this great idea for a story and in my half hour wait I wrote the first chapter on one of the receptionist's legal pads. It centers around this guy. And most of the story takes place in his dreams, which reflect his normal life. So you actually get to know the guy and his waking life, by seeing his dreams.

Anyway, it was this I was working on while in the park today. We have a wonderful park for a town as small as this. It's big with luscious green grass. It's relatively clean and filled with paved bike trails. And the whole thing surrounds a pretty little pond which holds a dock for fishermen. It reminds me of the pond at Aunt Kasner's we use to swim in as kids. I like to write by it because it brings back pleasant memories of times when innocence still had its hold on me. There's park benches along its bank but I like to plant my ass under the shade of one of the park's big oaks. There's a little nook in one of them which God seemed to have tailored for my rear end.

It was a beautiful day this morning with the sunshine bright and the temperature in the low eighties, and I couldn't help looking up from my writing to the pond's surface. I was doing this when things seeped out of the boundaries of the ordinary.

I wasn't looking at any specific part of the pond, it was just some random portion that my eyes happened upon, yet it was the spot I was looking at that the supernatural occurred. At first I didn't realize what I was seeing, to me it was some kind of lazy fog of light shimmering right below the water's surface. It was flickering and moving in a hypnotizing manner. Until the head emerged my eyes grew heavy, and then widened when I saw the light transform into an actual concrete being.

Now when I think about it, it reminds me of that show "Swamp Thing" in that it represented some primal being rising up from the waters we were all supposed to have come from. It didn't take me long to realize that it wasn't some ugly prehistoric inhabitant of the water; It was Carol. Her body slowly rose up out of the water as if she was on an invisible elevator. When her feet reached the surface she stopped, and stood there on top of the water like the female version of Jesus Christ. Even from that distance I could see she was naked in all her feminine glory. I could also see that her body wasn't purely human. It projected too much radiance to be that of a mere mortal. The first word to pop into your mind when looking at her this way is goddess.

After staring at me for a few moments, she started walking towards my astonished self. Wherever her feet touched the water, it grew into an emotional frenzy, as if excited at the feel of her touch. The skin of her body was unblemished; all her scars from her accident had been erased, just like my emotional scars were now being wiped out.

One step, two step, three step, four; already she was close enough for me to see she was smiling. She looked like she found this whole situation humorous, and her smile made her presence seductive. I noticed that the pond water was running off her body, and I watched the course of the droplets as they trailed down her breasts and formed shiny pearls of liquid on her nipples. They fell almost reluctantly back into the pond they came from. Those droplets reminded me of our tears as I stood holding her hand in the emergency room during the last few minutes of her life. She died from internal bleeding, and it prolonged her life just long enough for me to say goodbye. Never had she been so beautiful as she was during those last minutes.

When she reached the bank the water stopped churning immediately. It returned to calm in almost uncanny speed. I expected the ground to part for her like clay, but it did no such thing. She walked up on bare feet to the spot where I was still sitting. Her smile turned into an expressionless feature for a few seconds before bending down and kissing me firmly on the lips. For a horrifying moment I expected the cold, stiff kiss of a corpse, but her lips were warm and enticing so I closed my eyes and welcomed their presence. I could feel her pulse through her lips and it seemed to be synchronized with mine, which was beating as fast as an adolescent's who just received his first kiss. I wanted the kiss to last long enough to make up for all the ones we missed after her death, but she placed her hands on my shoulders and disconnected our lips.

"Carol," I said. Instead of replying she just smiled. When she didn't say anything I continued speaking; "Is it really you?" I asked stupidly. Of course if was her.

"Yes John, it's really me." That was the first time I had heard her voice in over a year. It was almost like the opposite of coming face to face with a radio DJ you had been listening to for years.

"You're dead though. I saw your body with my own eyes." The thought that this may all be a dream hadn't escaped me. "I was dead. But I'm alive for now." I noticed that she emphasized those last two words. I felt a deep pain in my heart at this and my whole world went dizzy. Obviously, this was only a "Cinderella deal." I had the feeling though that Carol would be gone long before midnight. I had never even considered before that I might lose the same person twice. Just when I was starting to get use to her being dead, she comes back and then dies again.

She kissed me on the forehead and said; " But don't worry, we'll be together from now on." She left off there and I couldn't help wondering what that was supposed to mean. Was this some way of her telling me that I was going to die soon? Was this the reason for her visit?

I didn't want to ruin the mood with these dark questions because, quite frankly, I didn't care. What did it matter if it meant I got to be with her? Instead I said; "I've missed you." Not the most romantic of phrases but I think I got the point across.

She laughed and said; "Of course you have, we've both missed each other. Not a day goes by in which we don't think about each other. The old wedding vow goes; 'till death do you part,' but not even my dying has completely unlinked us." I got the gist of what she meant. I always wondered after she died if the saying was true and she really was watching over me. It made me paranoid when I used the bathroom but besides that I liked the idea. I've noticed that religion makes things more romantic, and without it our actions leading to what we call love would just be considered animal lust. I think fate would make it even more romantic, but my beliefs are a little murky in that area.

She stood up from her crouch and held out her hand for mine. "C'mon," she said. "Let's go for a walk." I took her hand tenderly, as if I thought it might fall off, and stood up using the tree for my support. I just now realized that I didn't bother to pick up my notebook I had been writing in. It's probably still laying there. Oh well, it's not like I have any use for it now. Maybe a robin will shred it up and use it to build her nest. Maybe a homeless person will pick it up and sell it to a publishing company for a lot of money. Either way, it's a part of another life and I don't regret leaving it behind. Well, maybe a little, but I'll get over it.

She led the way at first until I was able to catch up to her. She seemed not to notice her nakedness, and I thought perhaps that she had been up in Heaven so long that she had forgotten what embarrassment was all about. Of course I hadn't yet verified Heaven's actual existence with her yet but she had to have come from somewhere didn't she? I tried not to notice how her whole body bounced with her step but it was all in vain. It's funny how you miss things that when you had them you thought nothing of.

I looked up and saw a lady that looked about 30 gaping at my wife in unhidden amazement. Her expression was extremely comical but Carol didn't seem to notice the woman at all. I saw that she had a little child of about five sitting next to her and I expected her to throw herself over him to block his view. Instead, she tilted her son's head up and pointed to Carol. Clearly she saw what I saw in that this woman was more than human and she wanted to share this moment with her son. The kid smiled at my wife and then gave me a queer look as if to say; "What are you doing with this beautiful woman?" I winked at him and he blushed and turned his head.

We exited the park and continued onward in the street. I expected the hot blacktop to pain her but her facial expression remained the same.

"So what's God like?" I asked out of the blue. Our creator was the last thing on my mind right then but I liked hearing her voice.

She smiled at this.

"It's a lot more complicated than that John. He's nothing like we are so I can't compare him to anybody or anything. He's more solid than we'll ever be."

I didn't understand what she was talking about but I let it be. I had a feeling that I'd find out for myself soon enough.

I looked up and saw that she had led us back to my apartment building. We walked up to the glass door and before I could get out my key she opened it without any trouble at all. I could have used her on those nights I had stumbled back too drunk to look for my keys. We went up my stairs. To my delight she decided to walk in front of me. On that small trek up the flights I managed to stumble twice because I wasn't watching where I was going. My room is right across from the stairwell and when we reached the top of it we crossed over to it without pause. Again, she worked her magic on the handle and we stepped inside. I closed the door behind us.

The sudden rush of darkness caused shapes of color to dance before my eyes. There was plenty of light inside the room but after being outside in the bright sunshine I might as well have fallen inside a bottomless cave. Those few seconds in which I could not focus in on my wife seemed eternal to me and I had the bizarre superstition that if she stayed out of my view long enough that she would cease to exist and go back to wherever she had come from. My arms groped along the wall for a light switch as I cursed myself for not opening the curtains before leaving. After being introduced to the supernatural my whole world felt alien to me and I couldn't remember where anything was. Was the switch on my right or on my left? Even in my drunken stupors I had been able to figure this out, but now the answer escaped me.

I needn't worry though because the room became washed in light without any help from me. I looked up and saw that my hand was a good three feet from where the switch was. My heart slowed down considerably as I was able to look around and see where I was going. Where was Carol though? A few seconds before she had been standing right in front of me and now she was no where in sight. I knew she hadn't disappeared though because I could hear her muffled breathing and I could still sense her goddess-like presence.

I didn't have to be a rocket scientist to figure out where she was, only a master at that board game Clue: if she wasn't in the living room/kitchen, she was obviously in my bedroom. I was, after all, what you would call a "starving artist." I couldn't afford a luxurious suit with many rooms. Carol had always joked when she was still alive that if I gave it time I'd be the next Stephen King. Well, she's been dead for over a year and I still remain an unknown author, and we all know that unpopular writers don't tend to rack in the cash. Thank God I don't have a kid or I might have had to put him up for adoption just to put him out of his misery...just kidding about that Dave, you know I would never do that.

Anyway, I advanced up my sorry-excuse-for-a-hallway and towards my room. My bedroom light was on and it hadn't been when I left. I entered to find my wife with her back turned to me, facing my dresser. The piece of furniture had a mirror on it and I could see in her reflection what she was looking at. Here, I had placed all the existing photographs I could find that had Carol in them. Even if she was standing off in the background I added it to the collection. The dresser is right in front of my bed and when I wake up in the morning the first thing I see is Carol's face. I guess this could have made it harder for me to get over her but I don't give a damn. I'd rather be depressed than have my memories fade of her.

I could see that tears were falling from her eyes and for the second time that day I thought of her last few minutes of life. I also thought about Heaven and wondered if she had shed tears for me up there. People always said that Heaven is supposed to be perfect bliss, but I can't imagine anything more joyful than love, nor do I want to. You don't want love to become a disappointment because you've found something better. I moved over to her and enwrapped her with my arms. My lips went first to her neck, then on to her tears, and then finally settled on her mouth. I know this sounds really corny but my tears actually began to mix with hers.

It didn't take long for the "kissey kissey" part of me to lose interest. The male function of me had already begun to notice the feel of her body against mine and thoughts that weren't so clean entered my mind. I opened my eyes to see hers squinting back at me.They weren't open enough for me to be able to sense any need in them, but I made an assumption. I pulled myself away from her far enough for me to reach down and undo my belt. I hadn't even finished unbuckling it before she put her hand over mine and stopped me.

"No," she whispered.

"No?" I replied, bewildered. I thought perhaps I had missed something here.

"I can't."

"Why not?" I felt like a teenager coaxing my date in the back seat of a car. I never thought that I would have to pressure my wife into any sexual behavior.

"I'm too pure for that now." This didn't make sense to me but I didn't push it. I guess this means that once I die it really is like being reborn and replenishing all purity. My heart beat immediately began to slow, and my body cooled down.

"Come into the kitchen with me," she said and walked off without waiting to see if I obeyed her request.

On her way there she wrapped herself in a quilt that was lying on one of my old couches and I was grateful and sorrowful at the same time. She pulled one of the kitchen chairs out and I followed suit. We both sat down in unison. When she started talking, she was quick to the point, and didn't dabble off in romantic fancies.

"I want you to join me in Afterlife," she burst out quickly. I got the idea that she feared rejection.

"When you say afterlife, you mean Heaven?" I replied.

"Yes I guess you could say that."

I looked at her beautiful face and I wondered why she had even bothered asking. She was the girl that I loved, she had been the reason for living. The only reason I had remained breathing after she died was because of the superstition that if I committed suicide I would have gone to Hell, and then I would never see Carol again.

"How do you propose I do this?" I had actually began to feel curious about all this. They weren't kidding when they said the lord works in mysterious ways.

"It's simple. I'll take your life away in your sleep." I watched her pleading eyes and it made me grin.

"And this is okay with the big guy upstairs?" I asked teasingly.

She started giggling after I said this. A man is usually at his funniest when he's in ignorance.

"Boy, do you have a lot to learn. I'm gonna have fun with you up there."

Well, fun is definitely all right with me, considering it's something I've lacked for the past year.

* * *

Well Dave, there it all is. There isn't going to be any grand finale or a TO BE CONTINUED. I'll be dead by the time you read this so there's no way for me to tell you how it all turned out until you come up and join me. You're my only brother and the last person on this Earth that I truly loved, and that is why I regret leaving you. But you have a wife and family of your own so you can move on with your life and you won't have me to drag you down any longer. But before I go though, let me mention a few things that happened after my conversation with my wife.

When she finished speaking, she proposed that we go lay down so we could fall asleep as soon as possible. Well for me it was the sooner the better, but I told her that I had to do a few things first. I didn't say what they were but I think she knew anyway. She's laying in there right now, waiting for me to join her.

After she left the room, I went over to my computer and wrote you an email asking you to lunch for the next day. I also said in it that my alarm was broken so if I didn't answer to your knock, then that meant that I was still asleep and you could let yourself in. After that I composed a short will assigning you as the sole heir to my vast fortunes ( Ha, Ha). I know I didn't have a witness for it but you shouldn't have too much trouble getting it passed. Finally, after all was done, I sat down to write this long letter, which I'm ending pretty soon. Before I go, I just want to say that I love you and I'll always be watching over you. And please, don't spend too much on my funeral because you know how much of a cheap ass I am. Well, I'm prolonging the inevitable. Bye.

Love,
Jonathan.

The End

Copyright © 2001 by Simon Owens

E-mail: Timber888@aol.com

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