Prologue

“In… excelsis…”

The choir rang high into the steeple. Their harmonies were layered like clouds high above, pulling the listeners’ eyes up to the heavens. My hands were still in so much pain, but I would take care of that after mass. Right now, I needed God. I needed something or someone to remind me there’s something out there on my side.

Stained glass windows filtered the sun into the aisle as I watched my steps. I nearly dropped the host, how embarrassing. As comforting as mass was, I needed to get out of here. I wasn’t right to be around other people right now. After closing blessings and announcements for the parishioners, I left my pew and joined the cattle crawl to the anterior end of the chapel. After a shaky handshake with Father Leahy, I re-entered the world I needed to get to know. Still couldn’t remember how I got here…

Breathing in the foggy air left my chest feeling tight. I walked across the gravel back to my Chevrolet Blazer and got in the drivers’ seat. I sat and watched: It was extraordinary to observe.

A sea of white, with not a seam to break it. Was I the only one to notice? Surely, I was new here, but this was unbelievable. The congregation moved slowly back to their lives, clad head to toe in white. Shoes, pants, skirts, and hats. White, white, white, and white.

I looked at my hands which had started to hurt less by now. My bloody knuckles were a portal for my memories, and so I dove in as I rested my forehead on the wheel…and closed my eyes.

Driving

“For the love of God man!”

“Haha, who knew this car was so awesome?”

“Shit! Slow down!”

Dirt flew from my SUV’s rampaging path to the cabin. I was tired of driving slowly and safely down roads I knew too well. The blood in my veins was on fire for speed, and this engine was crying for some cruising all day long. My hands gripped tight as my fishtail turns were as wide as the smile on my face.

I hadn’t always been such a daredevil, you know. Back in high school I was the safe driver, who your mom was glad to see driving when we came home late. It’s fair to say that this character of mine translated to most things. I was safe, controlled, calculated, and calm in everything I did. I did my homework, over-achieved for college acceptance. Hell, I might have been the most predictable boy in the world. But college changed all that. And the years after too. Life sure is fun, if you let it be…

“[singing] I’m not the man they think I am at home… oh no no no! I’m a Rocket Man!”

I sang along boisterously as my gas-guzzling terror ripped around another turn. Jimmy was going to vomit if I kept this up, so I grudgingly pulled back on my rally driving. After all, what are friends for?

“I swear to God man. You really need to get on something. Immediately.”

“Such as?”

“Gee, I don’t know, maybe Ritalin? Or perhaps just the ROAD every once in a while!”

“Will you please relax? How many times have we been here? I just wanted to open up my girl here and see what she could do.”

“Well, are you satisfied?”

“She’s satisfied, and so I am too. After all,  that’s the proper order of things, you know this.”

“Oy.”

Sane driving led us to the clearing where we were headed. Stepping out into the cool, damp night, Jim and I gazed up at the best place in the world. Standing 12 feet tall, at a whopping 400 sq. feet of strong lumber on a cement foundation, the fishing cabin might as well have had a big sign saying “Ritz-Carlton” over the door. It held everything two men needed for a week, and for the 8th year in a row, would house Jim and I for yet another annual retreat of manhood.  Heading up to the door, I checked back to Jim. He actually stumbled a few steps out of the car before regaining his balance, now that he was back on solid ground. Maybe I was going a bit fast…