What if I told you that we weren’t alone in the universe, hell not alone on this planet. Given yes there are animals here to keep us company. But what if there was something else. Something that both existed and didn’t. I know I sound like that “I’m not saying it was aliens… but it was aliens” guy. The names J.T. But my folks actually named me James Tiberius Kirk. After William Shatner’s character from the original Star Trek series, yes they were Trekkies. The girls who liked me said I looked like Justin Timberlake. The ones who hated me refer to me as Jack Torrance from The Shining. I prefer the latter. Anyway, I know it sounds like speaking nonsense. But let me take you back 5 years ago. It was a rainy January afternoon. Colder than hell, and the rain and wind made it feel colder to boot. It might as well have been raining ice. I was so frazzled by an argument that I was having with a former professor of mine. Poor guy was just trying to help me out, and I practically spit in his face. All I could hear at that moment was this terrible ringing in my ears and then there was the bus. No, I’m not kidding. I was hit by a bus. Funny I didn’t feel a thing. One moment I was standing there arguing with the prof. Then next I was completely blacked out and laying on pavement.
Something he said that day really set me off. Whether it was him trying to tell me how to adult, or how the horrible ringing. I don’t know but I just couldn’t focus. I was completely out of it. And then it happened, BAM. Like a freight train out of no where. The morning express bus into town. Last thing I know I was awakened but a bright light, and a doctor face staring into mine asking me if I remember my name. But let’s rewind here. I’m getting ahead of myself. We need to Rewind again though. Go back to Tuesday. 3 days ago, I was starting a new job thanks to the old professor I mentioned before. Professor David Trilby, he was my arts major professor in college. The guy was the most laid back teacher I’d have ever seen. He didn’t fit the mold of the typical college professor. He looked like if Doc Brown from Back To The Future, and Peter Venkman from Ghostbuster crossed wires and made a clone using each others DNA. The guy was awesome. I called him Prof for short. He like wearing Hawaiian shirts and didn’t know the use of a comb it would save his life.
He managed to pull a couple of strings in my favor and got me a cushy position as his assistant in the local art gallery in town. I was meeting with him that morning to go over specifics of what it is that I would have been doing. You see at the behest of my parent’s he was trying to help my out as I’d done nothing with my degree. Apparently my daily extended sessions on xbox finally dug far enough into my fathers skin. He had, had enough. I wasn’t a kid anymore according to him. Sorry DAD, but I wasn’t aware. I thought at my age trick or treating was still socially acceptable. But that would explain why I spent last years Halloween in lockup with a bunch of felons. The professor softy smiles at me and stands over his desk, while I flash him a cheeky grin. But the smile quickly turns to a look of worry. One a father would give a son who hasn’t exactly lived up to his expectations. “What is it exactly that you want from this Charlie?” Said the professor.
“I don’t really know exactly prof,” I reply, “Maybe find myself.”
He bursts back, “Listen you’re a good kid, I just want to help you. You had a passion for art before. It reminded me of myself when I was your age. But it isn’t there anymore.”
“So let me get this straight. You were reminded of when you were a screwup who couldn’t be bothered to get up and do the laundry even I if it meant you hadn’t done it about a month. Sniffing shirts to see if they were worthy of the still wearable pile?” I said while flashing a cocky grin.
“Maybe you could do something with that attitude of yours first. Then maybe you’ll land a job that you could keep.”
I grimaced as I took in the advice he gave. I didn’t like being told what to do. I liked being lazy, after all who doesn’t. Sometimes it does feel like I should be doing something more with my life. Something meaningful but I didn’t know what I could do. I went away for college, I got 4 years under my belt, and got out with a bachelors in fine art. I got a job at a gallery in New York City, it felt like it was my time to shine. I was curating as a small gallery hopefully working my way to having a featured show. Thing went well for a while.
But somewhere down the line. I just lost it. I didn’t care anymore.Whether it was something about not getting the recognition you deserve for the putting the long hours in, or something almost spiritually was telling me to “Give up”. Feeding it me on a daily basis. So much so, that when it came time to have a show featuring my work and I was given the chance, I just didn’t care. I moved back in with my parents in Queens, and boy I will ll tell you they were less than thrilled. I was told almost ritualistically on a daily basis that I was giving up my talent, I haven’t picked up a brush or pencil in months.
I sat behind the professor’s desk I couldn’t stop looking at a strange painting he had sitting on an easel behind him. It looked unfinished but with sections that were obviously done in different periods of time. “What’s with the painting prof?”
“Oh that. It’s something I used to see in dreams, but have only caught brief glimpses of. Recently I haven’t been sleeping well, so I haven’t seen it. So I haven’t been able to finish it,” He explained.
“What is it though?” As it’s eyes stared back at me, lifeless, just staring. Not at me but through me. I was like a deer caught in the middle of the road staring into the high-beams of an oncoming SUV barreling down a winding wooded road. I didn’t know what to make of it. It looked from what was done smallish, and meek. With big, and yellow lifeless albeit sad eyes. Eyes like those have seen a lifetime of baggage.
“I don’t know exactly what it is,” he said “But I’ve seen it enough times to garner my attention. Enough that I needed to get it on canvas. It was literally in every dream I had at night. Then to put it simply it was gone. Every dream there after had me chasing for it’s presence but I couldn’t find anything. I actually kind of miss it. It always felt comforting, as if I was visiting an old friend every night.”
“Right…” I said in a mocking tone. “You need help prof. I think you should really lay off the Red Bull and coffee concoction you love drinking so much. I’m pretty sure it’s making you hallucinate or something.”
“Well you asked,” he said smirking. “Listen but enough about me. When you can you start? You know the in’s and out’s of the job, I’m not gonna baby you. As you’ve done it before. So you should be right at home. All you have to is get started.” leaning over to me and extends his hand over to mine looking for an affirmation. I reach out and grab it with a smile crossing my face.
“I’ll start tomorrow. I need to savor my last day as a jobless bachelor. I’m joining the workforce again. Oh what joy.” I said while sighing.
“Ata boy.”
Short Stories