BEEP, BEEP, BEEP! A loud piercing sound came from the alarm clock that read "7:00 AM". Russell moaned as he lazily flipped onto his side, and reached out to hit the snooze button. The small, empty room was silenced from the obnoxious noise. Russell sat up on his bed, squinted his eyes and rubbed them. The floor creaked as he slowly made his way to the bathroom in a very mundane fashion. He stood in front of the mirror for a good half a minute. He had pallid blonde hair that spiked up about 2 inches high. His face had a bit of plump, and his cheeks looked like it had so much weight, that it looked like they were the reason his eyes drooped down so low. He then turned on the squeaky faucet and washed his face. He felt the cold, soothing water splash the surface of his rough, wrinkled skin, and reached for a face towel.
Suddenly, the telephone rang. Feeling uninterested, he walked over to it. He sighed, then picked it up.
"Hello?" he said with a deep, vibrating voice.
"Hey Rus!" the voice replied. "It's me, Tim!"
"Oh, hey man, what's up?"
"Not much, hey you down for some motorcyclin'?"
"Uhh..." Russell uttered hesitantly. "I-I-I don't know..."
"C'mon man, ever since Darla left, you ain't don' nu'in but stay in and destroy your liver. It's been a year, Rus. It's time to let go." Silence came over the phone. "Tell you what," Tim said, breaking the silence. "Me and the boys are goin' out motorin' and such. Just gon' hangout, you and us, like old times, bud. I know this nice place we can go to. You'll have yourself a good time. Sounds good?"
"Yeah, alright." Russell said in agreement.
"Now that’s what I'm talkin' bout! We gon' come over there soon, alright buddy?"
Once they hung up, Russell went to his room, then slipped on his Hell's Angels leather jacket, pants, and shoes. He went outside, walked up to his full black Yamaha, and said "Hey Ol' Beauty," he said referring to his motorcycle. "Been a while, 'ey ol' friend?" Russell sat on O'l Beauty and waited.
Soon enough, Hell's Angels arrived. In a distance, you could hear the sounds of a dozen motorcycle engines roaring. They came packed in what seemed to look like a flock of birds traveling in a 'V' formation. They all wore full black attire, and matching leather jackets. As they approached Russell, they greeted him with a "Hey Rus! Long time no see!" and patted him on his back.
Forcing out a fake smile, in great torpor, he replied, "Yeah, good to see ya'll too."
Later, they all started their motorcycles, and rode off in unison. Tim led them to a bar. Russell looked around. "The Tennessee Bar." he said to himself. He recognized this place.
Tim nudged Russell's shoulder, "'Member this place, bud? Almost 20 years since we last been 'ere, who woulda thought this place woulda still been up this long, huh?" The gang headed in, through the two wooden doors, and ordered a couple of drinks. Russell's eyes wandered the place. It felt like he was 30 years old again. All the great memories with Tim and the gang.
Russell was so caught up in a good time, he forgot about all of his troubles. The lacuna he felt, his problems, his divorce, Darla, all those worries seemed to vanish until suddenly, he spots a girl with blonde, curly hair… just like Darla. He desperately moved his head side to side, trying to get a better look at her face. Fighting his sight through the crowd, he finally got a good clear look at her face. It was her. She wore the same black dress she had worn the first time he'd seen her. He hastily stood up out of his chair, leaning on one leg. He was hesitating to approach her. "If I do go up to her, then what? What would I say? I still love you, I want you back?" he thought. After some thinking, he decided to go up to her, but just as he stood on the other leg, he saw a tall man bring two drinks over to her and hand her one. She laughed and gave him a kiss. Right at that moment, Russell felt as if his heart was shattered into a million pieces. He took a step forward.
Tim extended his hand, and put it onto Russell's shoulder, stopping him from taking another step.
"Hey man, where you goin'?" Russell said nothing, and just kept staring straight ahead. Tim turned his attention to what Russell was looking at, saw Darla and the man, and turned his head back and looked into Russell's eyes. "Don't let it get to you, Rus. It's not worth it."
Russell said, "You're right," then turned and gesticulated to the bar waiter to come over to him. "30 shots of brandy."
"You alright?" Tim asked.
Russell puckered his lips, tilted his head, raised his eyebrows, and shrugged as he replied, "Oh yeaaaah. I'm fiiine. Juuust fine." Tim watched Russell as he hastily gulped down 30 shots of brandy as if it were smoother than water. Consuming all of this lubberwort, Russell didn't feel a thing. It was like everything was numb, and he couldn't feel anything, except emotional hurt. Everyone cheered him on. He caught the whole bar's attention... including Darla's.
Russell finished his last shot, and looked over in Darla's direction. They stared directly into each other’s brown eyes, and their eyes locked for about a good half a minute. Surprise and disbelief was written all over Darla’s face as she watched Russell. Totally wasted, Russell announced, "I have to go." and went for his motorcycle. Before Tim or anyone could stop him, he was gone. The whole gang yelled for him, but he didn't stop.
He was going somewhere, anywhere, he didn't know. Nothing could stop him. He just wanted to be alone, to get away from everything. From life, and from Darla. His mind was clouded, and he couldn't think.
Soon, he was going so fast, that it if he were to come to a sudden halt, he would lose balance and fall off. The road was empty, except for the train coming in the distance. He tried to make it past the lowering bars, the red flashing lights, and the bells, but he wasn’t fast enough. By the time he was on the railroad tracks, trying to escape the incoming train, it was too late. He was going too fast, he couldn’t stop. The train came by and hit him in the side. He ended up off the side of the railroad, and just laid there.
He woke up about 3 hours later, in a hospital bed. He couldn’t move much, and his body was wrapped in white gauze. He was in a great amount of pain all over his body. The doctor explained what happened, and that he might die in almost half an hour because of his weak liver, and all the injuries he had. Russell couldn't believe it. "Not now, not yet. Dear God, please don’t let me die just yet. Please, just let me see Darla, one last time. Let me just hold her, talk to her, and see her beautiful face, just once. That's all I ask for. Then, you can take my life."
About a few minutes later, Darla walked in, knocking on the door. She had on a black dress, bright red lipstick, and light eyeliner. Her blonde curls bounced as she walked, and her face was thin and boney. "Hey Rus." She said, in a soft, sweet, calm voice. He didn't know how to respond. He was speechless. "Look," Darla said, "I know I'm probably not the person you wanna see right now. The doctor says you only got a few minutes, and this ain't the time to leave things unsaid."
"Don't you have a man?" Russell said, mockingly.
"Now holdup, Russell. Things change, and people change. Life goes on, but you know what? One thing that can never change is my love for you." Darla paused. "Maybe that ain't gonna change anything, just had to get that out before you're gone." Russell wanted to say he loved her back, but he couldn't.
"That all?" he asked.
"Yes." Darla said, heading for the door.
She looked back, then Russell said, "Hey Darla, wait." She stopped, and struggling, with all his strength, he stood up. He took a few small steps towards Darla. He collapsed a little, and Darla held him up. They embraced each other, shedding thick tears. He didn't care about all the physical and emotional pain he felt. He just wanted to hug her, to hold her. She seemed to be his panacea.
She left, and said, "Goodbye Rus."
He said, "Goodbye." With his last breath, he said "I love you, Darla." Then collapsed onto his bed. With no more pulse.
My Zine
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