Open.
Your.
Mind.
I didn't dwell long on those words. Though it seemed like time had stopped, and it could have felt like several minutes, it wasn't even a second.
"Frankly, I honestly don't know what you're talking about."
His double-affirmative was yet another tell. And I can't let him get away this time. "Really? So then... Why'd you look so scared when you saw us walk through the door?"
Fleeting, microsecond anxiety. Then he was calm again. "I told you. It wasn't fear. I was just... Caught off guard, you know? I wasn't the only one surprised to see you come in, you know." He looked at the tables around him, back at me. He wasn't wrong, of course. Nobody likes to see cops in here. "How 'bout you talk to Moby," he continued. "If anyone in this place knew about your friend, he did."
Somehow, he sensed that we had nothing on him, and his complacency now showed through. He thinks he's in the clear. You don't have to be a good liar to be a good criminal, and most successful criminals weren't. You just have to be careful, and he certainly was.
How did it take me this long to realize? "Open your mind" was the exact same phrase. He said it with the exact same cadence. It was him all along.
I couldn't stop myself from feeling idiotic, if only briefly.
"Stay away from me."
"Whyy???"
"Do you have any idea how irritating you are right now?"
"What?"
"It's... Beyond definition."
"And you stumble. Again."
"Yes, I know. How typical of me. Just leave me alone."
"Sorry, but no."
"I don't have time for you."
"I know. Because I'm just so 'irritating'."
"Yes. Precisely. Now leave."
"Well, I just can't do that. If I left now, you'd never break out of this mood."
"You could stand to be less stubborn. I want to be alone."
"You could stand to be less of a jerk. You jerk."
"Go away."
"No."
"Please? Please leave?"
"Oh, so now you're a polite jerk... But still, no."
More dinner guests were expected to come, but that hardly was my concern anymore. I ran out the door, jumped into my old Celica and turned the key. In this temperature, she was a fussbudget. Her engine wouldn't start. I did not have time for...
There he was. He stood directly behind my car, perfectly in view in the rear mirror. He smiled and waved. No, he smirked and beckoned. I wished the car had started. Then I could back up over him.
Scatterbrain! Where did you put your focus? What did you do with your appetence? Are you really so intently self-aware? Did you really expect this to happen? If you did, then by not preventing it you are simply inoperable. You need to do better next time. If you set up a plan and stay with it, there's a chance you'll actually like the results. Try, try, try. Pick yourself up off the ground! If you can't do it now, you can't ever do it. So move! Move!
What was I talking about? Oh, yes... Fruit.
Now about that apple...
It was an honest lie. Really.
He knocked on the window with two knuckles. I was reluctant, and I didn't comply with his gesture to roll the window down. Instead, I cracked open the door and slid out so I could defend myself on two feet. He towered over me while holding an intentionally-stupid grin on his naturally-dumb face, but I felt a heavy pulse in every vein of my body as my heart hammered. I looked around - no one else was outside. No one else could see me from behind my car.
"Has your mind been opened?" I can see he's crazy. I look into his eyes, and I see crazy.
"...Yes." And there was a long moment of absolute silence. At least, that's what it seemed like. He didn't speak, I didn't speak, the birds didn't chirp, the air didn't stir, the ground didn't shake, the Earth didn't spin. Time stopped, and then he winked. And then I ran for my life.
"You're the one being a jerk, really."
"Most people consider persistence to be an admirable trait..."
"It's rather rude of you to stay here after I've told you directly to..."
"You're not too unstubborn yourself, you know."
"...That's it. Get out of my face."
"Ouch. That's mean."
"Leave!"
"You leave!"
"What?!"
"Yeah! How about you get out of my face!"
"Oh, I would. But you're in my room."
"Wow. It's almost like you've been cornered. It's almost like... I planned this..."
"What do you want?!"
"Hmm... World peace."
"Meltri!"
"Ok, fine... I want... Oh, could you recite a poem for me?"
"..."
"What? You don't know any?"
"Meltri..."
"I know one... Hmm... How does it go?"
"You..."
"Melons, melons..."
"...Really shouldn't..."
"Melons everywhere!"
"...Press my patience..."
"Melons in my hand. Melons in my hair!"
"Please get out before you destroy my nerves."
"How did you like that poem? I just made it up. Oh, I have another one! Hmm... There once was a melon named Meltri. She sat up high in a tree..."
An apple doesn't seem to lean any one way. But once you've taken a bite, you've realized the orchard. How can you step away from that? There should be nothing else as important. No other fruit can take precedence, yet you seem to relegate the apple to the back of the line. But it's always there. Others brighten and fade. But it's still there in the back of your mind. Oranges come as a distraction. You only pretend to like peaches.
What in the world am I talking about? Oh, yes. Your focus.
Now about that self-awareness...
Okay, okay. I'm sorry. But the complete truth would have been a lie.
"Ok... You can stay if you shut up."
"Hooray!"
"Wow, I have a serious headache."
"Aww... You're just saying that. So what did you think of that poem?"
"What has gotten into you? How many melons did you eat?"
"You should not answer questions with more questions."
"Do you know how much sugar's in those?"
"Do you know how you shouldn't answer questions? Or do I need to remind you?"
"Ok, sheesh... Umm... Well, you rhymed 'Meltri' with 'tree'... Right after naming a melon after yourself..."
"No, I didn't name a melon after myself. How uninsightful. I was the melon!"
"Uh-huh. Of course."
"Isn't this fun? I bet you now regret telling me to get out of your face..."
"Uh-huh. Of course."
"You're just trying to ignore me now, aren't you?"
"Uh-huh. Of course."
"Well... That's fine."
"Uh-huh. Of course."
"I know you're still listening."
"Uh-huh. Of course."
"So... I bet you think I'm the most wonderful, beautiful person you've ever met."
"..."
"Uh-huh. Of course that didn't work."
I didn't look back. All effort was being placed in not tripping. I didn't tie my shoes properly when I left the house, and now the laces had come undone. I was outside the neighborhood now, in the middle of the meadow. It only took a few seconds to get out here, but I didn't feel like I was moving as fast as I should have been. Ok, tie my shoes. I stopped and looked behind me, up the hill. I scanned the street. Nobody. Maybe he wasn't chasing me. Maybe I was over-reacting. Maybe I'm losing my mind. I bent down and started to tie the first shoe. The forest was about two hundred yards in front of me, so I knew I could make a bee-line for it and hide if I saw him come running over the hill. Being in the middle of a field, I could see in every direction. I felt relatively safe. I took in a deep breath, and then moved on to my second shoe.
I heard the revving of a familiar engine off behind me. When I turned around, I saw my Celica, black-and-red and roaring with intensity, speeding down the hill. Speeding in my direction. I could see the crazy behind the wheel. I could see my life flash before me. Run! Run!!! I could hear my head scream. But my knees locked in place.
The space between me and the front bumper of my own car was vanishing, and I had no hope of escaping. This wasn't his MO. He teased his victims with riddles until they figured out who he was, and then he'd catch them before they had a chance to tell anyone. He'd hunt them down on foot. Then he'd literally open their mind with some sort of sharp object. But he was about to hit me with a car.
Oh, of course. He was changing his style because he had the opportunity to improve it.
I closed my eyes.
Well... Mad Max, you win.
One. Two. Three. Four. Okay. There are seven of them. No, they have guns. So now there are eight of them. No, they are armored. That makes nine. I think they might be reasonably smart. So that’s ten. Okay. I will say these seven grunts are equivalent to ten. No, eleven. That one with the silly visor has taken an interesting stance. He must know more than basic Este. Too bad all of this sizing will not help them. They are no match.
...I look back as I pass over the intricate veils of nebulous radiance, gorgeous simplicity. I brush over these stars, grace their presence, and feel a sublimity in this glow. Oh, heavenly, so soothing. As Earth skims the sky and rolls auroras in its wake, I am guided by an incredible celestial breeze. The wonder meets me as the loveliness realigns, and I realize an aural elegance swirling. The resulting music ripples throughout me - a dulcet sensation - I am entrapped, entranced, eternally lost but suddenly grounded. I see, I feel, I hope, I hear. I know a beauty that others dream of. Such privilege inspires, invokes, creates. The wonderment is no longer a state-in-passing. It is here, centered, and I focus deeply. My intertidal introspection stimulates a renewed energy, an indispensable strategy. Then I open my eyes, and I stare in wonderment. I stare at the sight of this unfathomed loveliness.
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