"It's Been Two Years" - Part Twelve - "I Am Around"

"It's Been Two Years"

Part Twelve

"I Am Around"

            “Was that shadow?”

            “No... it SWISHED; I heard that... that; what I SAW

            Swish... there... as I step

            At the top of that stair;

            The third floor landing.

            It... is it IT? ...  It was DRESSED...:  It... went INTO that front room

            The right front room.

            On the third floor.

            She?

            Was dressed; her dress... swished.

            IS THAT “WHY?”

            This mansion is STILL... an old sea captain’s mansion.

            I am almost at the top of it;

            This mansion.

            And I find there the “WHY?” it IS THERE

            To be KEPT THERE (in this third floor front room).

            KEEPING this THERE... THERE.

            And I am that skeleton’s KEY?

            Cadence didn’t SEE THAT.  She didn’t HEAR that.  Did see.

            OR DID SHE?  SHE’S RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME!

            I put the cat food dishes back EXACTLY “Why?”

            Is that her dress?

            Is the HER in THAT dress?

            Is that “WHY?”

            “Don’t be bothered by the clutter.  Please.  I know you won’t be.” said Cadence.

            Before that step; my top step onto the third floor landing... of the old (sea) Captain Snow’s mansion... I had,

            Just like I’ve said

            Put the cat food dishes back

            “Exactly”.

            And returned to my ‘the third chair’ seat

            Almost

            For when I was standing up and

            Cadence said, looking up at me from her seat, that

            “THERE IS A PAINTING OF HER PINNED UP INSIDE”

            I didn’t know that she was talking about what I had just roped mentally as:

            “Her

            OLD ANTIQUE CHINA

            DISHES

            HER GREAT, great, great, grandmother who bought “the precious littles”

            Is there too” (Part Eleven [B])

            I did not realize

            That she (Cadence) was reading my mind.

            I think?

            No...:  I feel.

            She said that there was a “pile” of “old paintings” “inside” but that “her portrait

            Is pinned up... upstairs,

            And always has been.”

            Then she (Cadence) stood up before I could sit down and

            Started off toward the shed door

            To the first shed

            That lead

            To the kitchen door and I followed

            With her saying nothing and I being too stupid to notice that.

            We went through the kitchen (that was not the temperature of hot blood – Part Two) and on through the rooms to the front of the mansion and toward the front stairs except that Cadence stopped at an

            Empire period (style) card table UNDER that front stair... in its own ‘dark’ ‘spot’ to:

            THERE on top of THAT (this table) were a ‘pile’ of... old... dirty... loose and dry... oil paintings on canvas... apparently never ‘stretched’ (never mounted on wooden stretchers...).

            I... looking them through... found them to be ...pieces of old oil paintings of... ‘nothing’... that sort of looked to be as if someone once was being taught to oil paint with “HOW OLD? (are they) sorting through my mind TOO as I looked and did that TOO; the dating... “WORLD WAR ONE at the latest maybe... 1880?”.

            “They are nothings”

            ALMOST

            For one or two... no now three and FOUR are showing FACES of someones and that there is a LANDSCAPE of just outside right here looking from the street back at the mansion and yard “isn’t that not?” I think... NO:  FEEL.  And that one there:  That one is weird... must be

            From the Bible?  Or else someone painted that SCREAM way, way out of nowhere way, way RIGHT HERE in this MANSION screaming and it even scares me NOW to see it is a disemboweled naked MAN dying with SHADOWS of HIMSELF (?) running away “WHO PAINTED THAT?” one:  “It is”... “better be” from the

            Bible.” then

            “Jesus” I was saying to myself about the whole painting pile and

            Cadence started up the front stairs...

            Of the old (sea) Captain Snow’s mansion...

            So I follow along QUICKLY only slashing my eyes across the old tall clock across from the in-the-dark Empire card table where it is pushed against ‘that wall’ just where it is suppose to be.  “IT’S A GOOD ONE”... I... with my eyes... FEEL.

            We didn’t stop on the second floor and went right around up front (of the mansion) to the stairs to the third floor... but the sun... light ...burst through the front window there so it was radiant there; at the stair bottom steps... up to the ‘dark up there’ third floor with I... following behind Cadence who, on these stairs ‘moved spry’ ahead of me.

At the top step of mine

That’s where the swish was

Of the dressed

Figure

Going into that front room

I am sure.

But WE just went right along with me following to that room’s closed door that

Cadence just turned the knob and opened in to this ...radiant sun light from the front window

TOO otherwise dusky dark “BEDROOM?” or was ALWAYS used a “STORAGE” for it was choked

 GOD DAMN FULL of... well

            OBVIOUSLY

            ANTIQUES but

            That far wall in the center DOES have ‘pinned up’ “HER PORTRAIT” Cadence said.

            It was not ‘pinned up’.  It was tacked up; a stupid detail I noted.  But it seems to GLOW too in the dusky light... I feel... but... I was a little unstable right then so HER FACE seemed to be spiritually FREE from the portrait and that caught me that it was like SHE was ‘pinned up’ herself there until it was ok again to ‘go’.  Yeah... like she was just doing that; hanging there, until... well... WHAT?

            “IT’S her I am PRETTY SURE” said Cadence and I was like “HER WHO” and “No it is not her mother so is NOT her... great, great grandmother with THAT DRESS and she’s YOUNG ENOUGH THERE (in her portrait) to NOT be that so grandmother MAYBE my guess is GREAT grandmother did SHE paint this SELF PORTRAIT is THAT WHY the EYES are moving to NOT look me dead EYE I AM

            The skeleton KEY; her skeleton KEY?

            IS THAT WHY I AM UP HERE?

            “It’s been two years”

            Since I

            ...that first

            Old broken bowl that

            Old Captain; the old sea captain, Snow.

            That HE brought back to

            HER

            HERE

            SHE

            IS HER HERE

            Granddaughter?

            Cadence is the GREATEST

            Granddaughter

            Feeding the cats

            On HER old china that SHE

            Is in this mansion of

            DIRTY DIRT TOO and

            I have just found this all

            Out.

            Or have they found me out;

            That it is I who has scrambled

            UP onto the rocky shore to see

            This wreck.

            It is she; this tied to this mast?

            It has been two years

            Only.

            We are back down the third floor stairs upon the second floor landing in the radiant sun light there

            Without saying a word or

            Looking around much at all

            In that room

            I recall.

            Cadence stops there in front of me to look out the window; the sun lighted window.

            She then turns to me to look me; my face, my eyes.

            “Did you see her?” she said.

            “Yes.” I say.  “Yes I did”.

            “I knew you would.” she said.

            Then we went back down to the first floor landing, before the closed front door.

            Cadence opens that door and sun light that is radiant

            Comes in as she steps out of the open doorway, down the steps, down the path spry to the sidewalk and then, looking to her left, out into the street to hard look left down the street.  I follow out onto the front door step.

            Cadence starts back towards me on the front step

            In the radiant... sun... light

            As I KNOW WHY I am just that very moment only

            The Old Sea Captain Snow himself

            Alone standing there on the front mansion step

            Of his own old sea captain’s mansion

            In an old New England Village.

            “The Library (book) Sale starts this afternoon the sign is out I can see it.”

            Says Cadence to me from the base of the steps.

            “You are around I know where to find you.” She continues.

            “I am around Cadence.” I say her as I step down the front steps.

The End

"It's Been Two Years" - Part Eleven - "Bark Mulch" - "The Opposite Direction" - (B)

"It's Been Two Years"

Part Eleven

"Bark Mulch" - "The Opposite Direction"

(B)

            As Cadence and I wait and watch silently with the ...hope... to discern a cat appear to ...utilize... her neighbor’s bark mulch pile (?)... I

            Let my eyes... and the antiquarian gypsy wagon following behind that ‘my eyes’... discern, too... more.

            It was in the dim doorway’s light upon the sick chairs across from me... that assemblage:  In that

            Collage. In that

            Pile of junk; the

            “Old barn

            Full

            Of it”

            I was looking at; the ‘across from me to the left’:  There I notice... the ‘open end’ of an old... farm animal... stall?  Or was it (is it) a ‘wagon box’ open on the bottom and pushed back to a ‘the wall’?

            OR could it be

            That it was-is just a PIECE of an old “FARM EQUIPMENT”

            Long, long ago ‘put away safe’... abandoned?

            “Oh who cares.” my NOT curious brain told my TOO curious eyes.

            So the eyes dropped to the floor... and creeped toward the shed

            Door (to the outdoors)...

            And gathered MORE

            ‘Put away safe’ ...abandoned (?).

            “One, two, three, four.... seven, eight, NINE, ten” my wandering eye noticed and tallied

            “OLD DISHES” “on the floor”... gathering as

‘more’

            As my eyes

            Approached the door.

            “OLD DISHES” you say?

            Old dry dirty dry sticky dry

            Cat food

            “DISHES”

            I say.

            IN the “ON the” dark dirty FLOOR... way

            Leading to the

            Doorway.

            Have I just done ‘that’ again; the old medicine spoon TRICK?

            Of MY “WHY?”

            Of old New England homes? (Part Nine [A,B,C])

            SCRAPPLE DOWN on your knees to be with ME upon my

            HANDS and KNEES

            To be ‘picking through’ “YOUR OLD CAT FOOD DISHES CADENCE;

AREN’T THEY WONDERFUL!”

            “OH I’VE GOT TO GET THOSE CLEANED UP.”
            “OH DON’T EVER BOTHER:  THEY are WONDERFUL the WAY THEY ARE.”

            “YES and the precious littles...:  DON’T THEY CARE!  Each one MUST HAVE their own PLATE.”

            “Precious little?”

            “Own plate?”

            I must have... these... plates?

            Rummaging, I gather... I garner... now ‘eleven, twelve’...

            “THIRTEEN”.

            Old plates; one broken

            In half

            BUT AN OLD BREAK... “GLUED” (‘old glue’)

            TOO.

            I know the world of the collector!  The devil of the collector.  The trying; the buying.  The setting down... of a THAT object with THAT fact of THAT place in THAT TIME... HERE:

            “NEVER”.

            Under the chairs... on the floor... in the dirty... DIRT.

            DIRT:  THIS IS NOT BARK MULCH:

            They are the WEEDS of ‘old china’; old china plates WEEDED (pulled up) by Cadence from a HOUSE FULL (mansion full) of ‘old china plates; old china’.

            “YES, YES, yes... yes” my mediocre brain tallies THAT.  THAT “GOSH” “CADENCE” “you have the MOST STUNNING collection of OLD CHINA PLATES you

            USE TO FEED

            Your cats.”

            “Don’t they speak KINDLY of it to ME:  They KNOW I know they know I love that THEY love the pretty old china.  Don’t they?” she says.  Or am I thinking she is saying this to the back... of the top... of my head while I ...scrapple... under the fourth stick chair to pull the little “IT’S A CUP PLATE” out from under... too.  Or am I feeling her whimsy words warm on the top back of my ...MY... own curious collector’s eyes that I

            HAVE JUST COLLECTED HER (Cadence’s)

            PLATES MYSELF;  an... unrecoverable collection I...

            I...

            “MUST remember to put these back “EXACTLY” “can I... do that?”.  I am looking over my right shoulder at her (Cadence) JUST SITTING THERE... smiling down at me as I ...rummage

            Her

            Collection on earth; the greatest

            Collection on earth of

            OLD CAT FOOD

            Plates found in the OLD SEA CAPTAIN’S MANSION

            By discrimination?

            By choice?

            By thought?

            BY FEEL?  She has collected and displayed and I am searching my SELF to WRITE the MUSEUM LABELS to display with each plate to SAY TO THE WHOLE

            UNIVERSE of the collector

            “SHE HAS BEAT YOU”

            “And me too.”

            I start putting the plates back... where they were... just as they were... “THERE”.

            “Wow.”

            And I just had a whole seminar of “HOW” “I COLLECT”  with guest speakers and papers “given” (read) with color slides showing EACH SPECIMEN and handing out ‘hand’s on’ examples to CIRCULATE amongst the audience of ...career professional collectors who will NOW BREAK US ALL INTO SMALL GROUPS and, wearing our matching (orange) shirts TOO will ‘talk’ ‘about’ WHAT?

            On earth am I doing letting exactly what she just said; “the precious littles”, of ALL of the old ...sea captain’s mansion old china SCATTERING... falling... SHATTERING... she... swept that UP and FEEDS THE CATS with “IT”; her

            OLD ANTIQUE CHINA

            DISHES

            HER GREAT, great, great, grandmother who bought “the precious littles”

            Is there too

            Under the stick chairs

            IN THE DIRTY

            DIRTY DRY

            Too.

            I put the last plate...; the first plate I originally picked up... ‘back’, ‘exactly’

            “The littlest ones (plates) I always put the CHICKEN heart on.” Cadence says.  She means the cup plate and smallest ‘sauce plate’.  I know this; that Cadence roasts a chicken once a week and eats it slowly; one drumstick a day... with the heart... roasted... too.  I NOW KNOW... it is ‘given’ ...to the cats... on ...the mid nineteenth century (1850) medium blue transferware earthenware (‘soft paste’) (clay body) ‘cup plate’... with two tiny-tiny figures walking ...under a parasol... licked clean... by the cats.

            We (Cadence and I) are under the parasol.

            I have been licked clean

            By the cats.

            “Old Sea Captain’s Mansion you say?”

            Go ahead and buy the old dishes at a flea market.

            “My grandmother’s”.

            Go ahead and feed the cats on the “Old dry dirty dry sticky dry

            Cat food

            Dishes”.

            Go ahead and roast a chicken’s heart

            And put it on a cup plate.

            Go ahead... always... knowing that will

            NEVER “Why?”.

            For it is a:

            “That be a

            Lie”.