Monty: The Androgynous, Philosophical, Arson Enthusiast

Doors and threads

I look up at the owner of the hands that grabbed me. It is Nadia, stern faced and fury filled. Dragging me the hell out of there, and thank God, maybe. She shoves me into her car, slams the door and gets in the driver's side. We skid off and out of the street and I slump back into the seat, bracing for impact.

"You would've been caught and thrown into jail you complete and utter idiot," she snarls.

I shrug and avoid her glare that pierces straight into me, as always, since the beginning of time. I fiddle with my knuckles and wince. They are mottled with purple and blue, red raw in places. Nadia glances down at my hands.

"If you aren't covered in bruises you aren't trying for anything," I say with a shrug.

"That looks less like trying and a lot more like thrashing around. Like a goddamn idiot."

Nadia drives blessedly fast and I am moving again. The night is just outside and all of it is waiting.

Nadia sighs, "I don't need to lecture you. I know that. You're going to do whatever you want to anyway."

"How did you know I was there?"

"I got a call."

Nadia knows him. Well enough that he knew to call her. I press my forehead into the glass and squeeze my eyes shut against it. I feel it all. I don't want to. I try and leave myself behind and enter the world. I try and try but I'm so solidly here and it dawns on me. I am just running, running so far from myself that I can never feel that coldness that lurks because of Cecilia. That knowing of what a horror filled, freezing nightmare this universe can be. The whole world is disgusting. All of it is happening right now, every bad thing is happening somewhere to someone. I can't move with the weight of that. So I sway with the car as we drive, in silence, towards nothing.

Before long we are pulling into Nadia's apartment block, the place she moved to partly because Cecilia and I were close by. I reluctantly follow her into the building, up the stairs and into her apartment. It is warm and smells of cinnamon and incense. The kitchen is neat and stocked fully with cooking utensils. Pictures are stuck to the fridge with magnets and a rickety set of four chairs, are neatly arranged around a round dining table. I can see into the bedroom where a gangly white ankle pokes out from the covers, Art found his way here. And Nadia, who has work in a few hours but wants to be kind to her friend. She sets me down onto a rickety chair and flips on the kettle then takes the seat across from me.

"Don't pull that again Monty, it doesn't solve anything. Just forget about them both," She waves a dismissive hand, "They aren't worth it. What about Daria? What happened with her?"

"Ah, I don't know what the damn point is."

"Monty, I don't know why nobody ever told you. But all of us are beat up, but we keep loving anyway, as best we can. Okay?"

"What for? There's more to life than just the damn self loving another damn self."

Nadia gets up and busies herself making tea before placing a steaming cup in front of me, "You are unavoidable to yourself Monty," she says.

"I disagree."

"No listen, ok? Why do you exclude yourself?"

"What?"

"Why aren't you part of the world that you're trying to worship? Why is it everything in your place... why aren't you a part of the everything?"

Damn it, I don't know anything anymore. I shake my tired head and shrug, that's all I have to offer her. I wonder if Daria is still awake, I wonder where I am supposed to be. I know I don't want to be here listening to my friend telling me I'm wrong. I slurp all the tea down fast and burning and I hope Nadia is satisfied with that.

I stand to leave and I try out a smile, "Thanks Nads,"

She sighs, "I'm here if you need me."

I move towards the door.

"Monty wait,"

I turn back, "Yeah?"

She smiles, "I'm glad you're back."

I am a little too. I leave her to her too early morning and hit the streets where I belong. Light is creeping through the darkness. The electrical storm has receded and disappeared completely. I quietly grieve the loss of this night. Its explosions, its wonder, all that has enlightened me. I hardly know what to do with it all. I'm at the end of it, wandering with strands of thoughts following me, furling and unfurling in the wind. I feel Nadia's words wrap around my neck. Why not me?

My legs go weak and I catch myself on the wall of the building. Because why not me? What makes me so unlike the all I am trying to worship?

All the world is worthy to exist in the space I hold, the world made near endless by the mind. Everything is equal, everything is worthy, even sameness, even horror, even me? Life is only the progression in time, marked by the collection of obscure sensations and snippets of others. It is all gut wrenching and nonsensical and so brilliant.

So why not me?

I know why. I'd missed it. I'd let Cecilia break and slip through my fingers like silk. I was supposed to notice, I was supposed to stop it. I don't exist anymore, as much as I can manage because of that guilty grief. I am letting everyone and everything exist in my place. It is my apology and it is not noble, it's just fear. It's only fear.

I can't move, there is a sound coming from me that I have never heard before. A howl from somewhere so deep it feels like it's breaking my ribs on its way out.

The sun is fully up by the time I can stop. The ache in my chest remains, but I can see through the foggy mourning a bit. The world is waking up I hope, I can't wait to feel it some more. I slowly start moving again and light a cigarette. Feeling a bit like myself with it between my fingers.

I jump on a tram and stand pressed to the doors until I reach the right stop, where I jog up the hill and take the stairs two at a time. I reach the brightly lit hallway with the brightly lit door.

I press my forehead against Daria's door and smoke my cigarette quietly. She is just behind this piece of wood and so is the start of a thread. I don't know a thing, I am beat up and I am Monty and maybe I can just keep moving, forward, forward, ever away, ever toward.

The End.

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A note from the author

Dear reader,

Thank you for taking the time to read Monty. I hope it made your heart beat just a little faster.

If you liked the story you'll definitely like the extra short story I've written about Art and Monty at a poetry slam. You can get it right now for free, by signing up. Just visit the link below:

www.marcelle-liemant.com/newsletter

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Thanks again, you are a true rocker.

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