Corpse Reviver No. 2
August. A Saturday. It is 6am. Or thereabouts. I sowed my story, fought for my side. Even wrote some of the words that ended up in the newspapers. In the aftermath, I fled.
Adventure. Its prospect has always been my nourishment. The thing that made me something more than a hollow man. Adventure pours into that void. Fills it, until it overflows.
And so, I sit here. On this bluff, at sunrise. Overlooking dual runs of water. Joined, like two bodies doing the business. I seek the thrill, that sweet adrenaline that sets my mind aright. In the pink light on my face. In the sound of the river. In the music of birds and the rustling of leaves.
Those things don’t take me back to my pinnacle. My apex. Not today.
No.
They take me back to her.
How her legs pumped when she ran, screaming with laughter, along the bank of a creek. Her bare feet like aged leather. A face, unadorned, that made me quicken. She outran me. Every time. At the last second, she let me catch her. Fold her into my embrace. The nearest thing to love I ever knew.
So much like me. An adventurer, through and through. She took the best part of me with her when she died. And, I bide my time with corpse revivers. Trying to make sense of a life that shouldn’t be mine.
***
Reader note:
A corpse reviver was a staple cocktail in the 1930′s. Recent mixology has revived such classics. Here’s a recipe, in case you want to give it a try. Combine all ingredients in a shaker with ice, except for lemon peel. Shake and strain into a martini glass. Garnish with lemon peel.
1 ounce gin
1 ounce cocchi americano
1 ounce fresh lemon juice
1 ounce Cointreau
Dash of absinthe
Shave of lemon peel
This post is part of the series Death Becomes Me. It is a series of fiction. If this is your first visit to the series, please click here to read the first installment, go here for the second, go here for the third, click here for the fourth, go here for the fifth, click here for the sixth and go here for the seventh.
The Corpse Reviver sounds like a Corpse Creator. I’ve never heard of Cocchi Americano and, strangely enough, Absinthe sales are still banned here in France although it is sold under the name of Absente which is where your mind is after you’ve drunk a few of them:)
Roger, these drinks were apparently designed to revive a person who’d had too much. I’m not a big fan of absinthe. One of my friends is a French chef (from Lyon), and he insisted that I try it once. That once was enough.
Sad. This one hits hard. Absinthe, true absinthe, is legal here again though hard to find and expensive. And most of what is sold is crap. Or isn’t real. But anyway…
“She took the best part of me with her when she died.” A hard hitting line. Hits so solid in the gut. Especially of a father.
Okay. You can help me here, if it won’t be too painful. Why does this hit hard for a father, when he clearly was in love with her in a not-fatherly way? As someone who can never be a father, your insights will give me some good potential food for the character.
Something about the line “How her legs pumped when she ran, screaming with laughter”, sounded like a little girl to me. Reminded me of my daughter running around and then finally letting me catch her and swing her around. There is a melancholy to being a parent watch your kid grow up and leave. Worse if they may have died or been taken away.
It’s interesting that you picked up on that. He knew her as a child, probably fell in love with her when he was an early teen.
And as always, everything is filtered through the eyes of the reader. May say more to my current state in life than anything else!
It is a tough dance to put in just enough for the reader without too much. Especially with this character, who talks in fragments and doesn’t reveal a whole lot in the first place.
I hope your ear is getting better.
Getting better. Have an appt with the ENT and audiologist tomorrow afternoon. Keep your fingers crossed!!
Will do. If you want to hangout on G+, I’m at my desk til eleven.
Will o probably in a while. Meeting Heather Solos at SBux in North Charleston right now.
Tell her I said hi.
My reading was that it was first his daughter, then something told me they were playmates as children…but it was just ambiguous to leave one wondering, and keep one engaged with the story.
Sorry I missed hanging out with you. Coffee with Heather turned into late coffee, then lunch, then a shopping trip in the H&L Oriental Market. Ummm… well, so much for good time management.
And so it is…understood. He isn’t who I thought him to be – a softer, gentle guy than I had imagined.
I think I started in the wrong place with him, Lori. But, that’s how these public exercises go. They help me more than you know.
Oh my. Is it the absinthe that gives the drink its ghoulish name?
I don’t know. There are several versions of corpse revivers. http://ohgo.sh/archive/corpse-revivers/
Had to go read about what coochi americano is. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cocchi_Americano. I really find this character interesting.
He’s getting there.
Poor guy. This story is killing me, I will have you know. There is clearly so much backstory, and I want to know what it is!
Good to know that the backstory makes a good story.
Because that’s what this is.
I love the masculine tone. Short senses and phrases. Concise thinking…it’s so like “him”.
I think I can better understand the wishing for death now, Andra. I have been with friends in such straights of lingering grief that life is just a placeholder until they die. The longing to be with someone gone can be so overwhelming. And for others, a Corpse Reviver is another kind of lifeline. Such a complex story. I really do feel like I’m starting to really care about this character! I’ve never had absinthe and I just must–at least once!
I hope you care about him, Debra. You will see a lot more of him someday.
I am not a big fan of absinthe, but everyone should try it and decide for themselves. You have got to have some good places near you.
I just caught up on three of these. God, Andra. This writing, this journaling. It takes my breath away.
Hard to get the voice right, but I think I finally got there. It isn’t easy to be a man.