So let’s talk trash for a moment, shall we???

11/6/10

Today was the first frost and in the air was a poignant sense of purpose and the understanding that with all endings come new beginnings. This week I truly began to understand the moment of Charley’s betrayal- when someone you think you know turns out to be different than who you thought they were. But on the flipside, I also received confirmation that someone else was just as they have always been and always will be… there, quiet and supportive in the background. Always watching out for me and picking up the pieces when they begin to fall and so in a way I should be grateful for the betrayal delivered.

This has been a challenging week, full of unexpected events and revelations. You cannot possibly begin to know how personal this journey has been for me- how connected to Charley I have become and how much he has taught me. By the time the book is ready for publication, I expect Charley will be well on his way to discovering the rest of heaven and as long as he tosses a smile back to me every now and then… I think I will be ok. Is it odd to say that in the last year, my best friend was a man that died 44 years ago? Maybe… but then you may never come to know everything that Charley and I have been through together this past year. I will tell you this; things are winding down and there is closure in the future. Yesterday I received so much information from Charley that I am still trying to process how to navigate it all. Caution is the word for the day… caution and gratitude. It is mind boggling some days to think of the manner in which all has transpired. R has been the conduit and I the receptor and unless you are intimate with this type of experience, you cannot begin to grasp the impact it has upon your soul.

So let’s talk trash for a moment, shall we???

Let’s talk about the small white kitten. What kitten is that, you say? Oh…That would be the small white kitten that Charley was going to surprise his family with that week. The tiny ball of fluff that never made it home to Julie’s arms, because someone else’s need to know where the other tapes were hidden was more important. You know… the men who decided it was necessary to take Charley out. The men who were so deviant in their sexual prowess… the men so smitten with G that their brains fell several feet to rest inside their pants that they couldn’t think straight. The men who could not afford for the rest of the world to know about what they had done to Jessica and Roxanne. The men who set others up to take the fall each time Charley got close.

So let’s talk about the men who stood beside the train and watched as it was loaded with moonshine…The law men who collected the money for protecting box car after box car of white lightening that rode the rails at night. Ahhhhh…. to be a hobo in Valdosta in 1966! Murder, mayhem, money and sex-all for the simple admission price of a badge! What kind of a badge, you might ask? Who cared? Every one of them had their dirty little fingers in the pie-stars and shields all mixed up together… or all in a row, lined up with their hands out, waiting for the payoff. Grim, the card player with the pocket protector and G’s boy-toy. All patiently waiting for their cut of the profits at the edge of the tracks and where was the train headed- this train of illegal booze? Why northwest my dear… northwest! Shall we look at the railroad lines out of Valdosta in 1966 and follow the route? Of course…we could do that, or we could just look up and find where they arrested the engineer that year. Golly… the things you can find in a newspaper is just amazing!

But even more amazing, the things they never even knew to print. Things like… blood on the hands of someone meant to protect… someone who was there that night-twice. Blood on the hands of someone who had to take a bath to clean himself up, before he could return to the scene that night to act as a pillar of justice. And the other one- Grim, who had blood on his sleeve from wiping Charley’s face. Who drew Charley’s car off the road… who smiled like the Grinch Who Stole Christmas when I told him I knew things he didn’t know, I knew. And he replied, he knew things I would never know.

Silly, Grim…
He didn’t know about R.
He didn’t know about the file… or the lockbox filled with rolled documents…the insurance card… or the other tapes… or that Roxanne and Jessica would not remain silent in their makeshift graves. But I guess that’s the thing about ego. You can never see beyond yourself. Never think that someone else is smarter… or more tenacious. Or in the words of a very favorite author of mine…never distracted.

“Life is a bitch; waiting at a picture window of a house for her cheating husband to come home. Karma is the name we give his mistress…Revenge the illegitimate child!”

Oh the things we do for lust…we might never do for love!

2 Responses to “So let’s talk trash for a moment, shall we???”

  1. valdosta, ga Says:

    Excellent writing and presentation! Can’t wait for more.

    • Brownstone Literary Works Says:

      Thank you for the kind appraisal… I do hope that you began back in the beginning. See archives if you have not. I can tell you that things are moving very rapidly and that it takes supreme discipline not to bolt from current career into full time on this thing… but there is a process and part of the process is that my other jobs take away enough time from this to give me more time to process information and contemplate what has been received. It is all part of the plan. When R told me this would be life-altering… she was not kidding! This will change many, many lives… very, very shortly!!!!!!
      Stay tuned…

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.


%d bloggers like this: