Drive to work, drive at work, drive home. Drive to work, drive at work, drive home. Drive to work, drive at work, drive home. Drive to work, drive at work, drive home. Drive to- you see where this is going. The solitude of driving and daily monotony of my routine had become something I almost relished in.
Without Rylynn and Beatie around, and without any gigs to work I figured it had been a couple weeks since I had a conversation with another person for more than thirty or forty seconds. It was just, simple. Drive to work, drive at work, drive home.
The drive to work was at fourteen hundred, two p.m. for you normies out there. Since I knew I would be driving a forklift in minus thirty-degree weather I would always drive with the window down. The ice-cold air came through my window at a hundred kilometers an hour. The cold air distracted from the grey, salt caked scene along the highway. Colorless, lifeless and not unlike my current life style.
Once I got to work, I had, fun. I was working for a logistics company that shipped everything. I would go from unloading skids of food, to having to move fifty-foot flag poles around a dock with fifteen-foot-wide pathways for forks going both ways. Shit, was, crazy.
There was up to thirty-five forks at a time, and the rule was simple. Foot to the floor, keep shit moving. Accidents where bound to happen. One day a guy hit some water slide right into me. I lifted my foot at the last second as hit fork speared through its resting place, doing a right good job at fucking up my engine block beneath me.
I almost had a heart attack but to be honest, my replacement forklift was pretty pimp so, cheers to you, guy that almost made me an amputee. I can really stretch my legs out now. Hell, in my first week I was worried about cashing till I saw two supervisors fly around a corner and head on ran into each other. Skids blew up and freight went from a usable product to an effective paperweight.
They took a second to look at the destroyed freight. “You ok?” the small skinny white guy said.
“Yeah.” Said the giant SriLankan stuffed into his forklift like a clown in a car. Seriously this dude was tall as hell. They started laughing, repacked the now damaged freight and shipped it off to where ever.
I really learned how to drive a fork here. These guys where awesome. Most had been driving from almost twe ntyyears, some more than thirty. They were good teachers to, but the boss was a fucking dick. like, next level asshole.
When I finished at work it was usually a quick stop at the grocery store in liberty village. At the time it was mostly old factories, a few had been converted to condos and restaurants but there was lots of digging happening for new condos. In the middle of it all was a twenty-four-hour market that kept me fed. I rarely get all my food in one shot once a week, more like every couple days.
I got into the habit back when I couldn’t afford to buy food a week at a time. Lucky me though because even though this job taught me a lot, it didn’t pay a lot, or that’s how I felt anyway. I couldn’t afford any more than two- or three-days food so here I am, three in the morning getting another collection of canned soup, crackers and bread.
When I got home, I would drink whatever booze I had bought that day. Usually several tall cans. As you can see, my financial goals weren't so much un achievable but, un focused. I would usually watch a movie and slowly fall into a pit.
My apartment was quick a find, and it showed. It was big enough for my bed a couch and a desk. The kitchen was just a small cooking nook and the bathroom was equally small. I would sit at my desk, next to my window with a brick wall view and drink till I was tired enough to sleep.
Drive to work, Drive at work, Drive home. It didn’t take long for loneliness and idle hands to lead to a pretty heavy depression. I felt as though I was isolated, invisible, unliked.
**************************
The quiet smooth clicks of a train rolling down the tracks came from the darkness of a deep sleep. I could hear the time signature in click clack, click clack, click clack, and the smooth momentary sound of the wheels rolling across the polished rail provided smooth swoosh between the hard hitting but comforting sound of the rail seems.
Click, clack, swoosh. Click, clack, swoosh. Click, clack, swoosh.
The sound got louder and louder. Ever more intimidating, the peaceful rhythm remained inviting.
Click, clack, swoosh. Click, clack, swoosh. Click, clack, swoosh.
My heart raced as I forced my body to walk toward the source of the rhythmic roar. A light appeared in the distance, it was small, though I was certain of its directional travel as it grew larger.
Click, clack, swoosh. Click, clack, swoosh. Click, clack, swoosh.
Closer and closer it drew; I stood my ground as my body struggled to make my legs run. The sound grew louder and more violent as the rhythmic sound of the rails grew louder and more chaotic.
CLICK CLACK SQREE CLICK CLACK SQREE CLICK SQREE CLACK SQREE CLICK CLACK SREEEEEEEE.
“GRAHHHHHH!” I screamed as I woke out of my sleep, soaked in sweat. I rubbed my eyes and looked around as I struggled to get my bearings. “Oh fuck.” I said to myself. My eyes strained as a beam of day light cut through my curtains and seared my eyes.
“Guess it’s time for work.” I said as I rolled out of bed.
Drive to work. As I was driving at work my phone vibrated. I was surprised to see it was Rylynn
“Hey man, wanna grab a drink tomorrow night?” Her text read. I hadn't had a real conversation with anyone in a while, I figured what the hell, my big quarrel wasn’t really with her. To be honest I didn’t really have one with Beatie either. She just forced my hand.
I can’t remember exactly where I picked Rylynn up that night, I think it was young and Dundas, it was raining like a mother fucker I remember that much. The bright lights of downtown streaked through my window like an oil painting.
It wasn’t the most exciting night. We just went for a bite to eat; where I can’t recall. I don’t remember a lot from that night. Just that she was busy with school and her tattoo apprenticeship. She was living with her boyfriend and getting close to finishing school. I told her about Beatie’s tirade on me after she left.
Then she told me something, something that confirmed my previous thoughts about something deeper happening but what, I didn’t know. About a week before her and Beatie got into their war something happened while I was at work.
She was at home when Beatie came home. She was frantic, apparently, she had been out drinking that night, not ab normal, but that night she met some people and went to another party. When she came to, she realized she had been raped. Blood as she put it, was everywhere.
My heart sank at the news. Rylynn begged her to go to the hospital and after a while she managed to convince Beatie to let her take her. After that she started to lash out. I guess Rylynn tried to get her to go talk to someone, get help, but she refused. Sometimes when a fucked-up thing happens to you, your mind just can’t accept it. You look for a place to lay blame, Beatie was just trying to lay it somewhere, so she laid it everywhere. A desperate attempt to relieve pain she could not even accept she had. She would go to any length to get her vengeance on those whom she blamed. Rational or not.
I drove Rylynn home that night, dropped her off that and said “See you soon man.”
“yeah for sure.” she said
“Take care.”
“You too.”
I never saw her again.
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