Shards of Dreams

Ashleigh reached down and picked up a few of the colorful glass shards left by his bed, staring at them for what felt like hours. He couldn’t remember what he was trying to make only that it had cracked, and shattered like so many things he tried to make since late last night. His hands began to tremble again and he quickly disposed the glass and went to the kitchen for another beer.

Sleep gave him no rest. Every time he closed his eyes he would remember the nothingness. Nothingness was what he felt as he fell into the void slipping away from his friends. His body began to numb yet his mind was still active. “Is this it? Is this how I die?” were the terrifying thoughts racing through his head. Then all of a sudden he was being jerked back into the arms of his friends.

Turning back he reached into the void trying to reach for Eden’s hand but it was too late she was gone. A moment latter he was holding Carrie thanking her for pulling him out. He couldn’t figure out what was going on her head, she was crying tears of loss yet she was smiling as if she found a lost friend.

Then one after another everyone would vanish. Penny tumbling into the void screaming, James diving in only to vanish with her. Black inky arms reaching out for Alister tearing him from existence. Carrie in his arms began to fade away. His body numb he would wake up screaming.

His only break from the fear that still shook him was the brief visit he had that afternoon. Carrie and the Eden they had found in New York of 1978. They had stopped by with donuts and a smile. Rummaging around fir the few glass sculptures he had not shattered he produced a small glass turtle and a multi colored rose. He could not recall exactly when that night he had made the two objects but he was happy they survived his nightmares.

It was after he gave the two ladies the glass sculptures that Carrie had confessed to him that she was a heroin addict. She said that it was what helped he see the future and the past and everything else she saw. She became agitated when he suggested trying to quit the drugs and he decided to wait to bring the subject up again.

After the ladies left to deliver the donuts to the rest of the ka-tet did Ashleigh being to wish that Carrie had stayed just a bit longer. He couldn’t put his finger on it but something about her interested him.

Whats in a Name?

October 1999
Wednesday night.

Ashleigh smiled as he walked up to his apartment building. It was seven in the evening and Mr. Pena's apartment light was off. That could only mean that he was probably out playing bingo and hitting on the senior ladies once again and if that was the case Ashleigh could play his guitar without bothering the old man.

"Hey Ashleigh." Came a shout from the building steps. "It’s about time you came home. I thought I was going to have to find a new tenant."

Ashleigh Increased his pace to get to the steps "Well damn Margaret, I've been gone on longer business trips and you didn't sell my place then."

"Yea but I need to get a new tenant that will pay more for your place."

"You could always raise my rent."

"What and risk you moving out? No i guess I'll just let you stay around. No one else but you would live in that shit hole anyway."

"Okay Margaret I've had tough few days at work dealing with car problems and I'm going to go unwind."

"Oh and Ashleigh I don't want Mr. Pena complaining to me again about your guitar playing."

"Well I guess I'll have to learn to play something he likes. Maybe then he wont have anything to complain about."

Ashley said nothing more to Margaret as he slipped down the hall and into his apartment. Switching on the light he saw that his guitar was laying on his bed just where he left it the previous morning.

"Evening darling. It’s good to see ya. Give me a few moments to change into something comfortable and you and I can try and make music together."

He spent a few moments changing out of his work clothes and slipping into his flannel pants and gray sweater. After he rummaged around his kitchen for a quick bite to eat and beer to wet his throat he strolled back to the guitar and sat down on the bed.

"Okay I've got a song in mind that just might just fit you. Now the last time I played this song darling it was in front of a packed crowd and to be honest I was scared out of my mind. Lets see if more then a decade and not having my voice crack every other line helps."

Ashleigh spent a few moments fine tuning the strings and pulling a subway token out of his pocket to use as a make shift pick. Finally forgetting where he was his fingers began to take control. The opening beat rang in his soul and he was once again back on stage. Any fear he once had washed away replaced with the desire to sing out.

Oh Suzie Q
Oh Suzie Q Baby I love you
Suzie Q

I like the way you walk
I like the way you talk
I like the way you walk I like the way you talk
Suzie Q

Oh say that you’ll be true
Oh say that you’ll be true and never leave me blue
Suzie Q

Oh say that you’ll be mine
Oh say that you’ll be mine Baby all the time

Oh, Suzie Q
Oh, Suzie Q, Baby, I love you
Suzie Q

After letting the last few cords ring out Ashleigh smiled before speaking again.

“Okay Suzie you played that beautifully. Let’s see what else we can do together.”

Summer in the City

July 19^th 1994

“Shut the f*** up, you stupid whore!!”

“Who you calling a whore? You’re the one smelling like you’ve been with a cheap hooker all night!”

Once again, Ashleigh wakes up to the sounds of his apartment. The mid July heat was already causing tempers to rise at this early hour.

“Well, you sure as hell aren’t putting out, bitch. I may as well get what I can, when I can.”

After a few more minutes, he was able to tune out the argument his landlord Margaret and her current boyfriend were having. Same argument, different man, Ashleigh thought to himself as he reached for his slacks. The rope he strung up across his small apartment made a great clothes line, and the heat had helped him save several dollars in the past week drying his clothes.

Strolling a few feet across the bare apartment he found himself in his cramped bathroom. Reaching for his straight razor, he prepared to shave his head clean as he had done everyday since he was eighteen. Something compelled him to put the blade down.

“New day, Ashleigh. Time for a new beginning as well,” he found himself mumbling. “I wonder what I’d look like with just a few inches of hair?”

Exiting the bathroom after splashing some water in his face, he quickly put on a fresh, white dress shirt and black tie. Before leaving for the day ahead, he spent a few moments to roll up his sleeping bag and put it next to the duffel bag that had carried all his possessions for the last few months. For a moment he longed to buy a bed for his apartment, but with funds now dangerously low and rent due with in the next few weeks, he saw no point in getting furniture when his trusty sleeping bag would do.

Reaching for his briefcase, which held nothing but a few copies of his resume, he headed out of his apartment ready to find a new job. Ashley had only been in New York for a few months and already had several jobs that had come and gone. He was a taxi driver for a day—he quit after being held up at gun point by a twelve year old. He worked in a soup kitchen for a week before being held up at knife point by one of the patrons. Then he tried his hand at taxi driving once again, only to be held up after two weeks by the manager of the taxi company. And up until two nights ago, he made his living delivering flowers. A brief shiver traveled up his spine as the image of Madam YaYa when she answered the door for her flowers popped back into his mind.

“Ashleigh! Where in hell do you think you’re going?” came a broken voice from the door leading to the street.

With the sunlight flowing in from outside, his landlord Margaret cast a beautiful silhouette. However, as he strolled down the hall toward his landlord, her true appearance became clear. Once youthful looks were lost to drug use, her body painfully thin and in desperate need of a good meal. At one time her beautiful green eyes would stop men in their tracks. Now they were vacant and only stopped men in their tracks with fear. Her strawberry blond hair was nothing more than a ratty bird’s nest on her head.

“Good morning, Miss Margaret. I’m off to work right now, thank you.”

“Do you have my rent money yet, Ashleigh?”

“I’m sorry, Miss Margaret, but I believe I’ve paid ya through until the end of the month.”

“Well then, Ashley, as far as I’m concerned it’s the end of the month now.”

Ashleigh stared into her near vacant green eyes, thinking of how he should respond to her. She couldn’t be much older than he was, yet her face looked aged well beyond her years.

“I hate to contradict you, Miss Margaret, but your concern doesn’t change the fact that I still have two weeks to pay my rent.”

“Listen, Cook, I don’t have time for your Texas niceties. I need my money and I need it now.”

Before he could respond and inform her that he was, in fact, a Georgia boy, the door across from them slammed open. A dark-haired, drugged out man stumbled out into the hall with a ratty old backpack slung over his shoulder.

“F***ing whore, get the f*** out of my way!”

“Move along then, you lousy piece of shit. And don’t expect me to open my door when you come crawling back tonight.”

As the two continued the argument they began this morning Ashleigh swiftly slipped passed them and out the front door.

It was eight thirty in the morning, and the heat was already beginning to bake the city. As the hours passed and the heat began to increase, Ashley began to think of the lyrics to the Loving Spoonful’s “Summer in the City”

Hot town, summer in the city

Back of my neck getting dirty and gritty

Been down, isn’t it a pity

Doesn’t seem to be a shadow in the city

All around, people looking half dead

Walking on the sidewalk, hotter than a match head

But at night it’s a different world

Go out and find a girl

Come-on come-on and dance all night

Despite the heat it’ll be alright

The rest of the lyrics escaped him, but that final line stayed with him long into the day. “Despite the heat it’ll be alright.”

Finally stopping at a local burger shop to grab a pop and burger, Ashleigh found himself having to deal with the fact that he may have to head back to Georgia. If he continued with the odd jobs, he’d make himself completely miserable. He just had to find some job that he could apply his degree to, and maybe eke out a half way decent living. It was proving harder than it sounded.

Stepping back outside, he finished off his soda-pop and discarded it into a recycling bin near where he usually found his jobs. Almost every power pole in the area was plastered with flyers for local bands, social clubs for lonely men or women, and odd jobs.

Tonight at the Bloody Bastard Bar

“Drunken Punk and the Dirty Pigs”

Opening band

“Rebel Labia”

$6 cover charge.

Lonely? Stressed? In need of night where you can let yourself go?

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Despite his longing to hear live music again Ashleigh couldn’t find the energy to get excited about the bands on the flyer. The idea of running into YaYa made the burger he just finished churn in his stomach in a most unpleasant way. It was that last flyer that gave him the hope he had been looking for.

Quickly straightening his tie in the reflection of the restaurant window, he found himself marching toward the address listed on the last flyer. As the blocks disappeared behind him, and he got closer to the building listed for the Tet Corporation he found himself feeling more hopeful about his job opportunities with every step.

Walking into the front lobby of the dark, towering building, Ashleigh instantly knew that not only would he have rent by the end of the month, but he found the place he belonged.

Old Storms

Ashleigh moved quickly to escape the coming storm. Locking the door to door behind him he was glad to be home in his run down little apartment. He slid off his boots and stretched his toes the hard wood beneath his feet gave him a sense of peace.

It was not long before he could hear the rain falling outside. A few drops at first then the clouds opened up and the torrent of rain began. The rain was unrelenting and showed no signs of abating anytime soon.

It wasn’t long before Ashleigh found himself lounging in his bed listing to the storm rage on outside. As the rain fell he found himself drifting back in time. The years vanishing and once again he was a young teen in Augusta Georgia facing another storm.

“Son quick help me get this storm door closed!” The elder Jon Cook bellowed to his cowering child.

“I . . . Can’t Pa. The storm is too strong.”

“Damn it Ashleigh! I dint ask if you could help me or not. I flat out told you to get up here. Now move else you have a bigger storm to worry about when this is all done!”

Ashley had never heard his father threaten him before and decide to do as he was told before his Pa lived up to his word.

“Good now help me shove these doors shut son. You going to have to lean in with all your might so we can get the latches in place.” Ashleigh could feel the wind hammering against the flimsy storm doors and wished he had an ounce of the strength his father had. The storm was growing worse and the fear began to well up inside him. He wanted to flee to run far away but he had no where to go.

Long fearful moments passed as Ashleigh and his father fought against the storm. Finally he could hear the doors lock into place and he watched as his father placed the large steel beam in place holding them shut.

“Well that could have been a lot worse.” Jon was catching his breath and draping his arm around his son. “Other then that moment where you wanted to run off like a hound after a fresh bone Id says you did a good job son.”

Ashleigh looked up into his fathers face tears running down his young face. “Pa I . . . The storm it’s so loud you sure it aint going to get us?”

“Okay son how many times do I have to tell you to speak proper? There’s room for only one poorly educated man in this family and I already have that job. If yer Ma was still around she would be frowning at ya fer using a word like aint.”

Ashleigh could not help but smile at his fathers words. The world could be falling down around him and he would be more concerned with his sons vocabulary and education then the chaos around him.

“Pa . . . I’m sorry. I got scared”

“Son you don’t got nothing to apologize fer.” Striding deeper into the cellar Jon rummaged around for a few seats. “Here boy have a seat. We going to be here a while and I think you and I should have a talk.”

Ashleigh was happy to get deeper into the cellar away from the storm raging behind him. He squatted down on an old wooden peach box his father set up as a chair wondering what to say next. But his father decided to do the talking for the both of them.

“Now look here son it’s okay to be afraid. Fear reminds you that you’re alive. But you can’t let fear run your life. If you try to look at life with a cool level head aint nothing going to bother you.” Jon looked into his sons deep confused eyes.

“Let me see if I can make this easier to under stand son. Life is a series of storms they are rough and can make things difficult. But all storms blow over. If you can remember that then noting should bother you. You understand now Ashleigh?”

With the fear fading in him Ashleigh began to find his voice once again. “I think I understand Pa. Is that why you look like nothing bothers you Pa?”

“Son other then loosing yer Ma and having to raise a hellion like you nothing bothers be at all”

The storm continued to fall outside and Ashleigh could feel the years begin to return to him. Getting up from his bed to grab a beer a smile crept along his face as he spent the rest of the night thinking about home.

Whipping Post

Looking out the window of his run down apartment Ashleigh could see the cold New York Winter soon approaching. October brought the chill to the air soon November would arrive to usher in the rain.

Strolling away from the window Ashleigh picked up the beat up acoustic guitar he found in the pawn show the day previous. Stoking the guitars long neck he began to wonder what he would call his new friend. Many years have past since he last played and as he begins to remove the old strings he feels the years begin to drift away.

“Well Darling . . . we need to find a name that will fit ya.” He speaks aloud to no one else but him and the guitar. “First we have to remove yere stings darling. Just like a fine lady no use in wearing something that don’t suit ya no more.”

Examining the old string closely Ashleigh spares the E, and B strings from the garbage and places them in his night stand.

“Lets save those for a colder night Darling they may come in handy. But until then let’s give you a chance to sing.” Closing his eyes for a moment Ashleigh begins to rub the fingers of his left hand together. Slowly sliding out of the nothingness a fresh metal guitar string slips from his finger tips.

“Well . . . I wanted an A but I got the damn B string.” Stroking the neck of his guitar once more he begins to carefully place the new string where it belongs. Eventually Ashleigh sits back to decide what should be the first song he plays on his new friend.

“Now Darling as I was saying earlier we need to find out what your name is. I can’t call you Darling all the time. People might get confused and your obviously more then a mere guitar.”

“Damn it Cook!!" Came a shout from beyond the wall next to him. "How many times do I have to tell you to keep it down? Do you even realize what time it is?”

Ashleigh couldn't help but feel a warm smile cross his face. “Please excuse Mr. Pena I had no intention to wake you up at Seven-Thirty in the morning. I’m just stringing my guitar. I’ll be off to work as swift as can be and you can worry about who else to holler at next.”

“Oh just great the Texan has a Guitar now. I guess I’ll be subjected to some of your hick music now.”

With and even broader smile Ashleigh whispered to the guitar. “Don’t worry about Mr. Pena darling he’s a good old gent. Just a bit ornery in his winter years. Oh and for the record darling I’m from Georgia not Texas.”

Raising his voice and speaking toward the to thin wall behind him. “Mr. Pena. Any request before I go?”

“How about the sound of silence country boy. Do you no that?”

“Sorry Mr. Pena I don’t know Simon and Garfunkel tunes that well. But I’ll learn a few for ya.”

Soon Ashleigh found his fingers dancing along the guitar strings and his voice sang out the words to match the music.

I been run down, I been lied to,
I dont know why I let that mean woman make me a fool.
She took all my money, wrecked my new car.
Now shes with one of my goodtime buddies,
Theyre drinkin in some crosstown bar.

Sometimes I feel, sometimes I feel,
Like I been tied to the whipping post,
Tied to the whipping post,
Tied to the whipping post,
Good lord, I feel like Im dyin.

My friends tell me, that Ive been such a fool,
And I have to stand by and take it baby, all for lovin you.
Drown myself in sorrow, and I look at what youve down.
But nothin seems to change, the bad times stay the same,
And I cant run.

Sometimes I feel, sometimes I feel,
Like I been tied to the whipping post
Tied to the whipping post,
Tied to the whipping post,
Good lord, I feel like Im dyin.

Placing the guitar down gently on his bed Ashleigh quickly grabbed his old brown duster to help fight off the cold for the walk to work.

“Well darling it looks like you’re a fan of the Allman Brothers. You and I should get along just fine. As for your name I think I got a good one for ya but it will have to wait till I get back.”

Moment later he found himself facing the chill New York morning heading to work wonder what new adventures await him.