Page 116 of The Leaves In Autumn
Wouldn’t Aargon love this?
“What park is that?”
“Champs de Mars. Beautiful, no?”
“So beautiful.”
CHAPTER 37
Aargon
You know when it is time for something new. Subtle changes appear around you. It is happening to me. Like I have stepped on a conveyer belt that always arrives at the destination that was programmed. I feel it. This house seems different. Like it does not recognize itself. There is an emptiness, although everything is in its proper place. Including me.
But now there is a desire to shed layers and release the old. Looking around the living room, I begin to peel the first layer. I carefully box the sculpture that has sat on the long, rectangular table in front of the couch for the last five or six years. I don’t even know why I am doing it, other than it feels right.
I place it atop the last box packed, against the far wall. I feel like my body is ahead of my brain.Just shutup and get packing,it ordered a few days ago. My mind offered no rebuttal.
Barbra has been gone for almost a week. Is that all? With each day that passes, I get closer to facing the truth. This separation thing is not going to work. What about her, though? If we had talked, I would know something about it. But I don’t want to be the man raining on her parade. It’s one she has wanted to march in for too long. And the fact there have been no calls from her, has made me crazy. Doesn’t she miss my…I don’t know…my loving presence.
That’s a joke. Love was never mentioned. How would she know? Would it make a difference if it had been? I need to call Teddy, my straight-talking guru. Grabbing the cell, I take a seat on the couch. Looks weird without the sculpture on the table.
I will be lucky if he answers. Kids do that now. They screen your call. Like you are some casual friends. If I didn’t know Van was going through the same thing, I would feel shitty about it.
“Hey, Dad.”
So much for my paranoia.
“Hey. What’s happening?”
“I don’t know. You called me.”
I hesitate for only a few seconds, but it is enough for him to read the room.
“How are things going with Barbra gone? Have you heard from her?”
Smart little shit. When did things turn? He became intuitive like I am about his moods.
“No. Except for a few texts. It’s pretty, uh, disturbing.”
He acts like we have discussed my feelings for her in depth. He jumps right in, because he knows me.
“So you miss being with her?”
“I’ve grown accustomed to her face. Like the song says.”
“What song?”
“Never mind.”
“You guys never talked about how you really feel. Shit, Dad. What the fuck?”
I chuckle at the succinct way he wraps it all in a bow.
“You act like your twelve, not fifty.”
“I’m not fifty yet!”
“That’s what you’re getting from this?”
