Read Online Walking the Sleep by Mark McGhee - Free Book Online Page B

watch him bring Tiki statues from French Polynesia, and silk dresses from India. I watch him come and I watch him go. He never cries but they do. And I realize these are not my memories for I have never lived this life. I am seeing and living my grandmother’s memories from childhood. These are things she has told me but they are in front of my eyes. These are her memories, her soul, and I am in her heaven looking through the window of my existence.
    I realize now…now…. that memories are energy and they are sustained, for energy does not, cannot be destroyed, it can only be displaced. It can be redirected. These images, this life I see, is the energy of that life and time. I am sharing in what was. I’m only part of it because it was shared to me in fraction, but I see and feel it in whole. My grandmother is not here, but her life and energy, her emotions and all that she saw, felt, lived, and died with…they are here.
     
     
    “Hey, Sam.”
    “Back so soon?”
    “Yeah, but it was years or seconds, I got no fucking clue.”
    “Right.”
    “Why?”
    “Why not?”
    “Right. Just weird how it seems I was watching my grandmother’s life and it seemed like I was there for so long. You do that ever?”
    “Nope. Maybe you have better things to see than me. I stay here mostly.”
    “I don’t care anymore why I died here, Sam. I used to think I did. I felt I should keep coming back and figure out why I got shot out there in the parking lot, what I was doing here, but I stopped trying to figure it out.”
    “Huh. Well, that’s growth ehh?”
    “Yeah sure. Why not?”
    “I can feel, see, live memories of others.”
    “How’s that working out?”
    “Fuck you Sam”
    “Heh”
    “How about some help here? You been here a long time. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on sometimes, maybe even a hint of what to expect?”
    “How would I know that? It’s all personal. I don’t know what’s out there, or here for you, it just is and happens.”
    “I get tired of wandering around though. My fucking dog was with me for a while and then he disappeared. I hate when I slip.”
    “Yeah, that isn’t pleasant. Find a place you don’t slip.”
    “Like this place?”
    “This is my place. I don’t slip here, but then again, I’m always here so be careful what you seek out.”
    “You seem content enough.”
    “Better than what I might run into wandering around. Yeah. I don’t wander.”
    “Ever?”
    “Nope.”
    “Bad?”
    “Good and bad I guess. Never comfortable. You never know. Ever see the ones that never wake? I don’t want to see or hear something that might turn me into that.”
    “Yeah. I know. I slipped for a long time. Fucking Ravens seem to find me.”
    “As they will.”
    “I’ve seen some people I need to talk to though. There’s this girl.”
    “Ahhh seeking love in this place huh?”
    “No. I just feel like I know her.”
    “Maybe.”
    “Anything interesting going on in the store?”
    “Every day, all day. I see them come and go. Twenty four hour cable access. Better. I see right through them and I know every bit of hope and despair they bring when the bell rings.”
    “Lucky guy. How long have you been dead, Sam?”
    “Good question. I’m not sure. Am I dead?”
    “If you’re not then you’re one sick motherfucker, Sam.”
    I hear Sam’s laughter as I walk out the door….ding ding I hear the faint bell on the door ring as I walk down Dyer towards the 55 freeway.
    Be careful. Memories are energy and they can swallow you alive here. They will take you into the abyss of another’s soul. Anywhere anytime. You can be sucked into another person’s hell. And you can wander.
    Find yourself weeping another person’s sadness that they carry. You can be a walking, wandering, slobbering, sobbing Jesus Christ, taking the sins and sadness of another. It’s easy. Watch too long. Wander too long. You’re not even helping anyone here, you’re just getting sucked in. Your life and pain