Fortune Teller

I was sitting on a boulder, overlooking a valley at sundown. It looked like it could've been Los Angeles...or maybe it was some small city nestled in the desert. The lights from the light posts in all it's streets were coming on as darkness approached and the sky was painted in that range from burning orange where the sun is dying, to the navy blue where night began pushing out its stars.

You sat next to me, taking in the scene and occasionally looking over your shoulder to make sure we were still alone in this part of the woods...or maybe to make sure our old Shelby was still where we left it. I reached over and grabbed your hand, which was fidgeting nervously on your knee...like you were expecting for something to happen at any second. You turned to me started, and where I once saw warmth, love, life and mischievousness...now I only saw fear, pain, dull coldness and death. I smiled, trying to revive the part of you I lived for every day - yet, you simple gave me a blank, empty grin back. It made my chest ache. I looked away first.

"What do I do?", you asked and sighed. I dreaded answering. I dreaded seeing what your brown eyes would reply to my words.

"I don't know the future, bub. No matter what you pick, an element of your past life or what you think is happiness will be lost. Think what would make you content, at peace. That will then pour out into others in your life. You can't love others and make them happy if you don't love yourself and are happy with your life"...I spit out quickly, looking over at you and seeing your shoulders sag even more. You looked down at your Vans and I pulled you closer to me, and you softened up. I cried against your neck. I cried for you. For your confusion. For your loss. For your pain. For how helpless I felt at not being able to erase your woes for you. I cried for me. For all the things I wanted to say but couldn't. Because I'd have to stop hugging you at some point.

Then I opened my eyes and we were sitting on a pier, and it was daytime again. The ocean was crashing below us and jellyfish of all sorts of colors were floating up from the water and around us. You went to touch one, and I grabbed your hand.

"They sting. Don't touch them!", I said angrily...not really sure where the anger came from.

"They taste like beer. And I'm sad. I'll do whatever I want!", you yelled back and walked away from me. Then it started raining and I used my guitar as a boat, because the waters were rising quick. I yelled out your name, but couldn't see anything past a few feet in front of me...just gray water and rain splashing. I heard my cell phone ring, and when I answered it was my grandmother asking if I was coming over to eat or not. I was so taken aback by the sound of her voice, and by the fact that she was still alive that I couldn't answer. I just did that sort of laugh/cry thing one does when immensely relieved and happy, saying "Abuela" over and over.

Then it stopped raining..and you were there, with your Vans in your hand, drawing things on the sand with your big toe. I waddled over and walked out of the ocean, and you handed me your plaid shirt so I could warm up. You had doodled a heart with my name on it and a crab was messing up my name as it walked over it. I started crying because my name was ruined. You laughed and said I made you smile and simply walked over the heart. I seemed to be the only one upset over the tragedy of your doodle. I grabbed the crab and threw it in the water, saying "Cabrón!" and sniffling. You grabbed my hand and handed me a beer.

Then Rage Against the Machine's "Bombtrack" blared into my ear, and I found that your hand had turned into my pillow pet.

There...it all it's glory, was Tuesday morning. I want more dreams. I want more answers.

So I try to understand,

what I can't hold in my hand,

and whatever I find...

I'll find my way back to you.

And if you could try to find it too,

cause this place is overgrown with works in bloom...

"Home" is wherever we are

if there is love there too.

~Jack Johnson "Home"