Illusions

Illusions. They’re everywhere. Everyone we meet, everything we see – they all cast them. Its hard sometimes to discern what is real and what is not – depending on how good the illusions are, and more importantly how good you are at finding them.

I cast them every day; several times a day in several different ways. We all do. Its in our nature. People who know me pretty well will see through some. People that know me very well will see through most. But no one will see through all. I don’t do it to hide who I am (those people are the ones you need to worry about) – I do it to project whatever aspect of myself is best suited to any given situation. Well, ok, there are times I do it to hide, but that’s a tale for another day.

There are those few that use illusions to make you believe that what you see is real, when in fact they are anything but what you see. And there are those that cast them to make themselves believe that what they show is real. These are the hardest illusions to see through, for if the projector believes what they say, their lie is hard to detect.

I was in a situation not too long ago where I watched as the illusions that surrounded another person fell to pieces. Right in front of my eyes. It reminded me of an episode of How I Met Your Mother. Each time someone’s annoying habit was pointed out, the sound of glass shattered above the heads of everyone else in the room. They had not noticed these traits in each other before, but once pointed out, they were obvious to all. I felt the exact same way that day.

And then there you are, staring at what you always considered to be real when *poof* - it’s gone. And once they are all gone, once every illusion is shattered, there is the face unveiled. And all you can do at that point is hope that what you reveal is not ugly.

My Pen

I like my pen right now. It feels right. I’ve nothing to say really; nothing to write about, and if I do write I won’t be saying anything at all. That’s mainly because I’m not in the mood to say anything – I’m in the mood to un-say things. 

And when I’m in that mood I just spin in circles around an infinite black hole – and very few would appreciate that journey, for it really is a pain in the ass ride with no destination and no ultimate end.

But my pen…my pen suggest that something needs to be said. So I feel I must write something. So let’s see…

It is the ride less ridden that is more enjoyable. This is so because that sensation is never overloaded. Now this isn’t to take away from the joy of the more common rides in your life. You just have to remember, life isn’t about having the best all the time – it’s about making the best out of everything you have.

Bleah!

That Being Said...

Well for those who were following along, I’m not going to finish the story I was telling…not here anyway. What started as an experiment has grown into a tale that will be chasing its end for awhile. But finish it I will, and I’ll let you know when I do.

And here’s a shout out to my muse who laughed at me when I said it was going to be a short story. As usual, you were right. J

I will now take you back to my regularly scheduled program, which is neither regular nor a program, but you get my meaning.

Until next time…here are some thoughts:

When the music is playing, why can’t we help but dance when we pass by a mirror?

The house you buy when you are young will one day become grandma/pa’s house – to someone else.

Some girls tend to quit shaving when they aren’t with a guy – or when they’ve been with one that long.

A Story (part quatre)

It took mere seconds for her to regain any composure she might have lost at the shock of seeing him. She grew up within the British intelligence community and they had trained her young to be quick on her feet.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I came to get you. We have to go.”

“Where’s Jack?”

“He’s back in London. Someone else was after your mark apparently. They want to know who beat them to it, and they’re making noise.”

“Oh?” she asked. “Anyone we know?”

“No, these are young thugs. No discipline and certainly not polished.”

“Well, I suppose we should go then.” She turned and headed to the cabin. Luke started to follow, and then stopped. She felt him pause and stopped to look at him. “Coming?” she asked.

“No, I’ll wait here.”

“Suit yourself.” As she turned back she smiled to herself. He doesn’t want to go in, she mused. He’s as afraid to remember as I am to forget. She might have laughed at this idea, if she thought he wouldn't hear her.

She understood his resistance. If she had any sense, she would’ve resisted it too. This cabin was a safe house they found together, quite on accident. They were on a hike after a job in the area and ran across it. It was perfect, nestled as it was so far from anything, yet still accessible by car. Although the house was a common house for anyone in the crew, there was no denying it belonged to her and Luke. They spent a lot of time there and managed to make it their own.

When she walked back out shortly thereafter, she glanced over at Luke. He was still positioned exactly as she had left him. When he saw her, he walked over and grabbed her bag. They got in the car under a blanket of silence and drove away.

When they reached the road that led to the clearing, she noticed it didn’t seem as narrow as it had when she drove in. Suddenly everything about this road seemed apparent. I suppose it was the darkness, she thought. It always hides things. And that is why I prefer the night.

“Why don’t you rest,” Luke suggested. “This may be a long ride.”

Hope nodded and leaned back in her seat and shut her eyes.

***

She woke when the car came to a stop. The sun was just setting over the horizon.

“Where are we?” Hope asked.

“Just crossed into Austria. I’m going to gas up before we head into the mountains.”

She got out to stretch her legs and get a drink. After they got back in the car and pulled out onto the road, Luke began to speak.

“I know where you’ve been, what I don’t know is why. It was my understanding that you were never going back there. So tell me, how are the folks?”

“Still dead.”

He knew he had hit a nerve, no matter how unintentional. “I’m sorry, Hope. I wasn’t referring to your birth parents. I was talking about Jane and Max, the ones that raised you.”

“I know,” she said. She looked out the window at the passing scenery to collect her thoughts before speaking again.

“Jane and Max are fine…now. I went back because I had too. They needed my help and I couldn’t refuse them. They got mixed in with some bad informants. I had to help get rid of their excess fat.” She paused. “But that’s not why I left. I left because…” she stopped short of finishing the sentence.

“Because of Benny?” he asked. “Was him getting set up the reason you left?”

“Yes,” she said quietly.

They were in complete darkness now. The sky was clear, and the only lights aside from the car were from the distant stars.

“You know it wasn’t your fault,” he said.

“Yes it was. If I hadn’t told that prick of an agent why we were in town, he wouldn’t have got caught.” The memory both saddened and angered her. And she could never decide which emotion was stronger.

“No, I’m telling you, it wasn’t your fault. That’s why I had Jack call you back. I wanted to let you know you were the one that was set up to take that fall.”

“Excuse me? Are you telling me someone got the drop on me?”

He gave a little grin at that statement, knowing it bothered her tremendously to not always be on top. “Yes, that’s what I’m telling you.”

“Who the hell was it?” she growled.

“It was Benny. He set you up to set him up so he could flip without it looking like that’s what he was doing. He doesn’t know I’ve figured that out, but I’ll confront him one day.”

She started to say something else when she noticed a reflection of light bouncing off the side view mirror.  As she turned around, Luke looked in the rearview mirror.

“It seems we have company,” he said.

***tbc (just one more time :) 

Merry Christmas!!

A Story (part trois)

Hope. She’d always had it. She never really knew for what, but felt she had to honor her name by always carrying that feeling with her. It was all she had left from her family.

She walked through the trees that surrounded the cabin after Jack left. The morning dew was still heavy on the ground and the heat from the sun had yet to make the day unbearable. As she walked she thought about the path that had led her back here.

Many seasons had passed since she’d been gone, and time had carried her far away from this life – or so she thought. Maybe I never really left, she thought. Maybe I was simply taking the long way home.

Home. It occurred to her as that word crossed her mind that she’d never really had one. Her parents died when she was young and the people that were supposed to be watching out for them took her in. She had no complaints about her life during that period, but she certainly never qualified it as home. There was too much moving around to get rooted any one place.

It was that life that taught her to take nothing for granted and to rebel against any and all conformity. She was working deep within the resistance movement before the war when Jack found her. Being one of the few people she trusted from her youth, she followed him blindly into a life that would keep her on the run in some form or fashion for the next decade. Truth be told, she was still running; the only thing that changed were the reasons she ran.

The years she spent with Jack and his gang she remembered fondly. They traveled the globe, going wherever their services were needed at any given time. The group was so tight knit that no matter where any of them were, or what they needed, the others could always be trusted to be there when called. This group was the closest thing she had to a family. And, she supposed, a home.

As she meandered along, lost deep in her thoughts, she found herself on a cliff. It was a cliff she knew well, for she’d spent countless hours here once upon a time. It was a perfect place to spend some time alone, or with a companion, depending on her mood. And except for one, no one knew about this place.

As she stared out over the vastness below, the memory of precisely why she left came rushing back. The memory of what she’d done – of what nobody else knew she’d done – was her burden to bear, and she had chosen to bear it alone. She had long ago made peace with it, but then she’d never had to face it either.

And then there was Luke. If anyone deserved a goodbye, if not an explanation, it was Luke. He had taken care of her and loved her and given her his all. He was her strength when she faltered and the reason she could face each day with dignity and grace.

No matter how many miles and days she put between them, those feelings hadn’t changed since she left. But left she did, without a word. But now she was back. Jack had called her for a reason, and she needed to know why.

She took one more lingering look out over the scenery before her and took a deep breath. “I can’t run forever,” she said, before heading back to the cabin.

The sun was high by the time she reached the clearing. As she emerged from the tree line, she noticed a reflection from the sun glinting off something that wasn’t there before. Another car, one she didn’t recognize, was parked next to hers.

She stepped back into the shadow of the trees and started to work her way around the edge of the clearing. When she got within 100 yards of the cars, she stopped in her tracks. Whoever was there was behind her. She did a slow turn, wishing she had her gun, and found herself standing within a few feet of him. As he stepped out from behind a tree, her heart began to race.

“Hello, Hope.”

“Hello, Luke.”

**tbc**

A Story (part deux)

She awoke to the sound of an engine in the distance. It was dark again. She had somehow managed to sleep through the entire day. She got up and walked to the window that faced the road. There she saw the tiniest hint of lights heading her way.

***

He heard the click of the gun before he saw her. “It’s ok Hope, it’s just me – Jack.”

“I know. Otherwise, you’d have never heard me cock my gun.”

“How’ve you been, my dear? It’s been awhile.”

“I’ve been good. Getting by.  You know how it goes.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I do.”

He walked over to her and hugged her, wrapping her up in an embrace full of longing, for he knew that she was never his – nor ever would be.

“Let’s go inside. It’s hot out here,” she said.

He walked to the car and grabbed a couple bags before following her into the cabin. “I brought you a few things I thought you might need. Didn’t figure this old place had anything left in it.”

“It doesn’t,” she said. “Please tell me you brought coffee.”

“Of course. I remember how useless you were without it.” He smiled at this, knowing she would follow up that statement by hitting him.

“Kiss it, Jack. You’re no better!”

“Never said I was.” He walked over to the bar separating the kitchen from the den and unloaded the bags and started a pot of coffee.

“So what have you been up to Jack? Still running with that crazy dame you found on the streets?”

“She wasn’t from the streets, she just wasn’t…refined. But no, I had to get rid of her. She talked too much. That happened not long after you disappeared actually.”

“Yeah, sorry about not saying goodbye. I had to take care of some things, and I had to do it alone.”

“And it took you this long to do it? Hope, are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I promise. There just came a point when coming back no longer felt like an option.”

“I understand. So are you hungry? You want a sandwich?”

“No, just coffee. Not in the mood to eat.”

“You never were.” He made her a cup and poured himself a glass of whiskey before joining her on the couch. She was curled up in the corner, having somehow positioned herself to look like she was sitting up and lying down all at once.

“You’re still as beautiful as ever. The years have been good to you.”

“Thanks, that’s sweet. You’re looking good too. And it’s really good to see you. I had forgotten how nice it was to see a face you can trust.”

“Yes, those faces are few and far between.”  He got up and walked to the window and stared out into the darkness.

“So how did the job go? Was it clean?”

“Yes.”

“Did you leave any trace?”

“No Jack, you know I’m thorough. If I thought I could get caught, I wouldn’t have done it.”

“Good. We don’t want anyone suspecting who is behind this.”

“Who would? You all have alibi’s right? And I’m nothing but a distant memory in most minds – as far as anyone knows, I’m dead.”

“But you’re not dead. You’re right here, just like old times.” He paused a moment before turning to look at her. “Was it hard to do?”

She sat silent for a few minutes before answering. “Honestly, no. I suppose some things you just know, no matter how long it’s been since you’ve done them.”

He chuckled before resuming his position on the couch.  They sat in silence, both lost in their own thoughts for awhile.

“Why did you call me Jack? Certainly you know plenty of others that could do just as well.”

“No, they couldn’t. Some jobs are something of an art, and that is a skill I have never found since you left. Plus, he asked me too.”

She sucked in a breath as a knife pierced her heart at the mention of him; more so at the thought of him mentioning her.

“How is he?” she asked, barely above a whisper.

“He’s doing okay. Has good days and bad, like any of us I guess.”

“Is he happy?”

“Happy? I’m not sure what happy is to him, but I suppose so. I will tell you this - when you left, he was lost, for he lost his Hope.” 

**tbc**