guitar-playing ….at least two minutes of ‘lead-in,’  - and… all too familiar words, from a familiar voice.

 

hello darkness my old friend

come to talk to you again

because a vision softly creeping

left its seeds while I was sleeping

and the vision that was planted in my brain

still remains

within the sound of silence

in restless dreams I walked alone

 

“What a song,” Leo said, from the passenger seat of the motor home, as he stared out his window, the ‘red’ of his cigarette - reflecting back at him.

 

I was sitting in the driver’s seat, preparing to get us on the road, having just switched the ignition on, along with the cd player of course.  Scanning the brightly lit dash as if I was an airplane pilot or something, I was infinitely glad to be getting back on the road; Wal-Mart is nice, but one can sit in a parking lot only so long.

 

Nearly two in the morning - Leo and I are the only ones awake, of our party anyway, Pup, Belle, and Colo having already sacked out.  Whit and Pop had left shortly after midnight, and as bad as we hated to tell them ‘bye,’ it was nice to know that we would meet again - in California.

 

and in the naked light I saw

ten thousand people, maybe more

people talking without speaking

people hearing without listening

people writing songs that voices never share

and no one dare

disturb the sound of silence

 

Starting the big diesel engine, I slipped the gearshift into ‘drive,’ and in a low but dramatic voice - said –

 and slowly, they crept from the almost deserted parking lot – in a highway ship on the prowl.

 

Laughing, Leo looked at me and said, “you know how to ruin a mood don’t you?”

 

“Sorry bud,” I told him as we pulled out on the main drag of Pecos, and turned right.

 

“Judge Roy Bean,” Leo said.

 

“Yeah, this used to his town, eh?”

 

“Once upon a time, as they say in bedtime stories,” Leo said, taking a drag from his smoke.

 

“So, where you headed Ice?”

 

“Thought we’d go North to Dallas and then either east or west, or maybe west or east.”

 

“In other words, you don’t know where you’re going, right?”

 

“Yep, I said, just like most of my life, you know.”

 

“Yeah,” he said.

 

For several minutes neither of us said anything, both listening to ‘Imagine,’ the classic song by Lennon.

 

The interstate, devoid of vehicles, stretches out barely ahead of our headlights, light led by darkness, just like life - I think to myself.

 

Breaking the ‘lull,’ I look at Leo and say, “Imagine there’s no religion.”

 

“Are you content Ice?”

 

“Sure,” I answer, used to his quirky way of deflecting questions he doesn’t want to answer. 

 

“As content as a fifty-nine year old man can be, I guess.  Why’d you ask?”

 

“Cause you’ve been acting content, so, I thought I’d see if you really were.”

 

“Well, you know how it is, if I had my druthers I’d be in some club drinking whiskey, and looking for a loose woman.”

 

“Yeah, but you’d be falling asleep at 10:30 before all the good looking ones got there,” he said, with a chuckle.

 

“That’s why I’m here at 2 in the morning, you reckon?”

 

“I’d say it was because of that fine lady, known as ‘The Pup,’ back there, he says, motioning with his head toward the back - where the ladies are.

 

“I’d have to agree with you there, I say, thinking of my lovely wife of 6 years, and the absence of a need to go to clubs - since I’d met her.

 

I guess it could also be because - we’re running on the excitement of the trip,” he says, staring straight ahead.

 

“Or, I say, dryly, neither of us got up before noon today.”

 

“Religion, he says, is what holds it all together you know?”

 

“Yeah, without it - it would be mayhem out here, I say, looking around in the darkness we’re wrapped in.

 

When he didn’t say anything, I turned the music down a little and said, “you going to tell Colo and Belle your theory of - why we don’t know what we’re here for?”

 

“I imagine I’ll get around to it,” he said.

 

“Blew me away,” I said, more to myself than Leo, remembering that rainy night in Memphis, when we’d been hitch-hiking to California, and Leo, his old hat dripping water, and pulled low on his head - had told me – ‘the reason for not knowing.’

 

 

“So,” Pop says with a smile, “where’s the Magical Mystery Tour headed?” 

 

“Where - ever,"  I say with a laugh, as I twist the cap off a beer.

 

“I would think somewhere ‘cool’ what with all the heat here.”

 

“Pup was talking about Colorado,” I said, glancing at her talking to the Southern Belle, and then finishing with – “we’ve been meaning to get out there for six years now.”

 

“Who’s all going,” Pop asks, looking around the crowded room.

 

“Everyone except you and Whit I guess.” 

 

“”I’d love to go, he says with a shrug, but I’ve got to catch a plane in the morning, and Whit, as you know, is meeting his wife; I think they’re going on another one of their vacations.”

 “Where you flying off to,” I ask Pop, who’s busy opening a package of chips?

 

Somewhat distracted, he mumbles what sounds like Chicago, and though I’m not sure that’s what he said, I leave it like that, and get up to go to the bathroom, waving at him as I leave.

 

“On my way to the ‘john,’ I pass Pup and Belle conversing about what else – “The Yankee,” while Colo, Leo and Whit are all sharing a laugh over something I was too late to hear.

 

Stopping off at the little cubbyhole where a small desk serves as my sole personal space, I notice that the computer monitor has something on the screen; looking closer I recognize one of my poems.  Pup must of pulled it up.

 

somewhere distant

there’s a song, that a woman sings

a piano that softly plays

it’s a place I want to be

 

I have no way of knowing

what it is I need

this feeling is all I’ve ever had

of life’s fatal attraction

 

many times I’ve thought that I had it

what a cosmic hallucination            

it’s always turned out to be

a magic kingdom from within

 

and on a journey without a conclusion

I can only find a mystery, shy an answer

to why a mind seeks to discover

what stares back from the mirror

 

As I finish reading the poem, Belle walks up with a coke in her hand and looks at the monitor.  While she reads - I take a moment to look at her; the resemblance to her Mother, whose beautiful picture has been on the stream many times - is remarkable.

 

“You write some deep stuff don’t you ice?”

 

“I guess, but nothing we don’t all think about?”

 

Belle smiles wryly at this, and takes a drink of her coke.

 

“Anyway, I say, I’ve always written pretty much this way.”

 

“Can I ask a personal question, Ice?”

 

I nod, with what I hope is a ‘quirky’ smile.

 

“How old are you, Belle says?”

 

“How old,” I say, drawing it out a little, “would I be - if I didn’t know how old I was?”

 

“Right you are Ice, it’s just a number, yes?”

 

“Laughing heartily, I leave her in front of the monitor, as I continue on to the bathroom, while thinking  ‘this is going to be a hell of a good trip.’

 

 

as I look at my fellow travelers, I realize that this trip is just beginning, and there are many miles to go, many stops ahead, and much to be determined along the way.

 

“Sounds a little like existentialism, a philosophical movement which claims that individual human beings create the meanings of their own lives, Whit says.”

 

“Well I be damned,” Colo, says, as at the same time - Pup says – “he is blond, just like we all thought!”

 

Colo and Pup are exclaiming about “Mr. Whit,” who is standing outside the door of the motor home with another man talking to Leo through the little screen door.  They had walked up un-noticed by everyone except Leo who had gone to the door to meet them, and now after hearing the strange voice they both were taking in the famous Whit from the stream. 

 

“He looks young doesn’t he Pup,” Colo says, as she positions herself to see the two strangers better.

 

“Maybe, Ice’s voice booms from behind them, “maybe these two guys might be – Gautam and Vasudeva?  What do you think Colo?”

 

Yep Ice, it's not coincidental that conclusion and illusion rhyme...undoubtley close relatives – the man with Whit says, peering into the motor home through the screen.”

 

“Who are you,” I ask the guy, who is bigger than Whit and appears to be around 50 or so, although it’s hard to determine an age.

 

“Oh, I seem familiar to you eh sunshine?”

 

“Yeah, I say slowly, and your choice of words is also familiar.  Should I call you ‘Pop,” perhaps?”

 

“Works for me, my man, got anything to drink?”

 

Pup gets up and opens the refrigerator door and reports back that we have – Corona, Bud and Bud Light along with Coke and Pepsi, and of course there’s always coffee wherever Pup is.

 

“If you think ya'll are leaving me behind you'ens is crazy. Can't leave me here with PolarB, Taylor, Lucy and Biggie all alone....think of all the trouble we could get into.”

 

“Crapola, I say, that sounds like the Belle of the South?”

 

Now there’s three people outside the motor home and Leo is inviting them in for ‘tea and crumpets,’ – honestly he said, ‘tea and crumpets,’ – “Christ he’s watching too much t.v.,” I say aloud as Colo looks at me oddly.

 

Looking back at her I smile and with a ‘wink,’ say – “nah ‘42’ is just a number that Whit keeps throwing around on my comment section in my blog, why don’t you ask him I say, as I point out the blond guy coming into the motor home, along with Pop, and the Southern Belle following close behind.

 

“Life, Leo says with a sigh, is all about not knowing what it’s all about.”

 

“Which is a significant clue itself, Colo adds.”

 

“I don’t get it,” Pup says.

 

“Why do you think we were left here without any direction,” Leo says, as he takes a bite of toast.

 

“Left?” Colo says.

 

And then - adding - “without any direction,” as she slowly turns toward Leo, who had used the few seconds between words to get up and pour himself a cup of coffee.  

 

Looking at Leo, but talking to Pup, she continued, “so the significance of all this, and what we’re not getting is - that it has to be the way it is, just like Leo said, for if it isn’t - then nothing would be right.  Remember what Daze said?"

 

"We have to not know what it's all about, because if we knew, it would change the whole experience. We create our own reality as we go... If we already knew where we were going, we would be bored, and also we would create the reality that we expect we are supposed to create."

 

“Yeah,” I said, “Daze was right on with that comment wasn’t she?

 

“I wonder if she knows this is all real,” Colo said, spreading her arms out at the rest of us?”

 

“She might, Pup says, looking at each of us, but as long as Colo doesn’t call her….”

“I thought we were picking her up, I say, with a wave of my coffee cup attached hand.”

 

“We are, Pup says, but it’ll be a few weeks before we do that.” 

 

Laughing, I look at Colo with a knowing look and say, “Leo has to convince Daze like he did you.”

 

“Well, that won’t be so difficult if he uses the same technique on her that he did me.”

 

“Yeah Colo,” Leo says, “you just rolled over didn’t you?”

 

“I was a little slow on the ‘uptake,’ but you’d have to say it’ll be easier with Daze than it was me, after all, she had that ‘string theory’ all over her blog – remember?”

 

“Leo grunted a little as he got up from his chair, and said, “yeah, that was interesting, I must say.”

 

“I’m still having a hard time, Colo,” Pup says, as she looks out the window at some people walking in the parking lot, “with what you said, you know – when you said – “that not knowing what it’s all about is a significant clue itself.” 

 

Before Colo responds, Pup adds, “clue to what?”

 

“Oh nothing - really Pup, I was just thinking that because we were left without a owner’s manual, it was important in some way, don’t you?”

“I don’t know, she says, still looking outside, kinda seems like grasping for straws, know what I mean?”

 

Listening to this exchange, I see a chance to clarify what Pup is trying to say, “I think what she means, is that assuming that the ‘only conclusion’ is the ‘real one,’ might not mean that it is.”

 

“But, it’s all we have Ice, except for Whits Forty 2, Leo says, as he flips the stereo on, at least until we can find Joe.”

 

The one and only – voice of Ray Charles - comes through the speakers of the previously silent stereo, “You give your hand to me and then you say hello and I can hardly speak - my heart is beating so - and anyone can tell you think you know me well – well you don’t know me…..”

 

And as I look at my fellow travelers, I realize that this trip is just beginning, and there are many miles to go, many stops ahead, and much to be determined along the way.

 

“What’s it all about?” Leo laughs a little as he says this, rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand. “Jeez, the thing is - the one thing we know for sure about life is - that - it’s all about not knowing what it’s all about - which is of course, the main clue to the answer to your question.”

 

“In other words,” I say, as I walk back into the kitchen - “things are the way they are because that’s the way they’re supposed to be.”

 

Colo looks first at me and then back to Leo as she says, “I feel like the circle ‘completed’ in front of my eyes.”

 

Laughing, I throw the towel I’m carrying at Leo, and say, “she just called us ‘circle men,’ I guess you know.”

 

Leo dodges the towel, and smiles at Colo, “actually, he says, I don’t, as Ice is always insinuating, talk in circles. He just gets dizzy sometimes with his own arguments, and blames it on me.”

 

“Whatever,” I say, as I take a seat at the little table that serves as our place to gather when drinking coffee or eating.

 

“What about your shower?” Leo says looking at me.

 

“Pup’s in it, and I don’t see her coming out for awhile unless she runs out of hot water.”

 

“What do you mean Leo, the ‘clue thing,’ what are you talking about?” Colo asks.

 

“What?” He says, with a puzzled look on his face.

 

“You said it’s about not knowing what It’s about, that is the clue to the answer to my question,” Colo said. 

 

Instead of answering her question, Leo asks one of his own, “Do you believe in a god?”

 

Before Colo can answer, Leo holds up a forefinger and says, “let me remind you that my question is do you believe in ‘a’ god, not god.”

 

“Because, he continued, the difference is immense.  For example, I believe there is a higher power, or a god, but I don’t necessarily believe in god.”

 

“I don’t think her belief, whatever it may be, has anything to do with her question,” I said, just as the toaster pops up two pieces of very brown bread.

 

“Of course you’re right Ice,” Leo said, as he takes a piece of toast from the toaster, and begins to butter it.

 

Just then, Pup strolls in, wearing a pink robe with a towel wrapped around her head. “So, what’s going on guys,” she says, looking around at us?

 

“Well, Colo said, I asked Leo a simple question, and still don’t have an answer.”

 

“What was the question?” Pup asks.

 

“What’s life all about,” I said, as I take a buttered piece of toast from Leo.

 

“Actually,” Colo says, as she hands Pup a plate of eggs, “he answered that question, kinda sorta anyway, but it was so twisted I had to ask him what he meant by it.”

 

“Which was… Pup says.”

 

“Life, Leo says with a sigh, is all about not knowing what it’s all about.”

 

“Which is a significant clue itself, Colo adds.”

 

“I don’t get it,” Pup says.

 

“Why do you think we were left here without any direction,” Leo says, as he takes a bite of toast.

 

“Left?” Colo says.