After a whirlwind of activity, I pass solitary hours. Quiet chunks of Time. A ticking clock. A lonesome day stretches to two. To three. To a week.
Stay strong, Sister.
People are wells. Sometimes, water streams from my own cavity, excess for parched souls. Need a few drops? Sure, here you go. AÂ whole glass? I can spare it. Here’s a bucket, because you’re clearly dehydrated. I’ll come back with more.
Stay strong, Sister.
Until I find myself, boring through rough granite, desperate for anything wet. A clock pulses while I claw at rock with bloody fingers. I suck those nubs, a pathetic attempt to quench my needy thirst.
Does anybody have water for me?
Stay strong, Sister.
Never mind. I’m always the strong one. The person with the bottomless well.
And so I walked through the silence. The vacancy. The desert of my own thirsty soul. A city park and sunlight. Repetition and Time would refill my well. I didn’t want any help.
I didn’t need anyone. Need was a wasteland, gutted by disappointment. In everyone.
In me.
Stay strong, Sister.
I noticed him when he ambled onto the park trail. A white shirt made whiter by his skin’s midnight hue. Baggy jeans. Shoes of the classic I’m in a gang variety. When he fell in behind me, his loose shoes thwacked against pavement, and his aura pushed into mine.
Stay strong, Sister.
Black thoughts knocked inside my skull. WhatamIdoingheredoIevenmatterwhatcanIdotofixthemessofmyowndecisions.
Stupid refrains. Self-pitying screeds. I picked up speed to run from them, not from him……..until I realized he matched my pace. Step for step. Breath for breath. He overtook me as I hurried through the scruffiest part of the park, trail obscured by ancient magnolias. Spanish moss. Rambling azaleas.
Stay strong, Sister.
I turned to accept my fate. Accosted in a public place teeming with racial tension. A landscape brimming with injustice, flung from the tip of a gun. Frothed into a frenzy by a non-existent bolt.
Stay strong, Sister.
I smiled. How fitting, really. For this to happen now, when my well may never again hold water. I scrolled through idiotic phrases as I smiled and awaited whatever the stranger had for me.
Stay strong, Sister.
I didn’t expect to see chipped front teeth when he smiled and ambled into step with me. “Been trying to let you set the pace, but damn, girl. You wearing me out.”
“You keep up pretty well.” What? He wants to talk first?
“You come here a lot? To walk, I mean?”
“I used to. Been gone a lot. But I need the exercise. It fills my tank. Keeps the demons at bay. Something like that.”
“I hear you. I come here most days after work. Today’s my day off.”
I looked sideways at his profile. Clean-shaven. Proud, even. “What’s work for you?”
“Construction. But I’m really a singer. My name’s Jason.” He held out an inky hand.
“Andra,” I said and clasped it.
“Yeah. You mighta heard of me. They call me Charleston’s best rocker. I got a record contract and everything.”
“Really.” Great. Now I’m going to be assaulted with somebody else’s impossible dreams. Just what I DON’T need. I kicked up my pace, but he cemented himself to my side. Kept talking.
“Yeah. Got a gig coming up at the Music Farm. New tracks releasing in a few weeks. All that stuff being put together in Nashville. Don’t understand much of it. Publicity and all that stuff. It’s a lot of work.”
“Don’t I know it. I’m a writer.”
“Okay, so you totally get what I mean.”
Yeah, and I’m out here trying not to think about that, you asshole. Sigh. “What’s your sound? I mean, if you’re Charleston’s best rocker, do you write your own music?”
“Uh-huh.” He leaned his steel-wool head my way. Whispered to nobody but me. “I got this song I been working on. Hadn’t laid it down yet or nothing. Only one left to mix and master for my debut. Wanna hear it?”
“Okay.” I awaited an assault on my eardrums.
Through finger snaps and chest taps, he built his own percussion section. Pushed sound through sable lips.
Stay strong, Sister. Stay strong, Sister. Stay strong, Sister. Somebody’s there for you. Stay strong, Sister. Stay strong, Sister. Stay strong, Sister. You’re gonna make it through.
I don’t know whether Jason had a recording contract. Or if he worked construction. Hell, I’m not even sure his name was Jason. He stayed with me until I finished my last lap, though. Dreams and ambition. Possibility and promise.
“This is me. I head off here.”
He pulled me to him. Kissed my cheek. “Stay strong, Sister.”
I fled the park. Pounded my feet into the concrete sidewalk, distance a barrier between human kindness and my tears. A dividing line between what I expected and what I was given.
I forgot to thank him.
But when I turned back to wave, I almost tumbled over my own gobsmacked feet.
The park was empty.
Jason, my black accoster-turned-savior, vanished into Nowhere. Into some other soul, crying out for a drink.
**********
L. Marie is giving away a copy of my new photography collection, Natchez Trace: Tracks in Time. Head over there to comment. Your comment might make you a winner! Click HERE.
50 Comments
One of those glad-to-read pieces. Stay strong, Sister.
This one burbled up through rock and made me write it. I’ve been struggling with what to put here. Still am, because I think shifting my focus to paying-site submission is the way to find more readers now.
I love you you spin an otherworldliness to this encounter… you and your ghosts…. Stay strong, sister. Enjoy what you do have, because, as I think you once told me, whether you have a thousand or ten thousand readers, it’s never enough.
I’ll tell you something, Dear. I have been frustrated that I could spend three solid months living out of a suitcase and come home to my books tanking everywhere. Yep. That frustrated me.
But this post isn’t about that.
Sometimes, I feel like all I do is carry water for others. When I need water myself, nobody can spare any for me. Sure, these feelings started on an epic trip where not one but two people I care about massively disappointed me. They’ve grown from there. I’m probably not being fair, or maybe I value friendships more than mine is valued. Someday, I’ll get enough reinforcements in my inbox/mailbox to count as the water I need. All I know is this: I don’t have anymore water to spare.
I love HOW you…*** jeez
I read your comment that way the first time. 🙂 Thanks for sharing a few pics from your Montreal trip. I’ve never been there in warm weather. Your pictures sort of took me there.
I’ve got a postcard for you whenever I get settled in to the new place.
You know, about the whole “water” thing… I must say (tongue in cheek) that I’m a little disappointed you didn’t slip into Accidental Cootchie Mama mode and say you need to be filled up until you’re overflowing.
Caring for others is thirsty work.
Oh, MTM takes awesome care of THAT. Ha. I’d be lost without him.
A beautiful and thought provoking post. I love the refrain: Stay strong sister. I appreciate your honesty.
I cried a lot writing this post. Guess I needed to write it. 🙂
I cried reading it . . . both times. xo
I have some amazing online friends, Karen. I wish I could see them more to give-and-get hugs.
I am a firm believer in “When the student is ready, the teacher will appear”. Hang in there….
Life is my teacher these days. It shows up everyday, even when I’m not ready. Ha.
Oh…this one brought tears to my eyes and a catch in my chest. Thank you. Stay Strong Sister! Have water…will travel. 😀
I’m working on being out west again in September, Lori. Think your library friends might invite me for an event around September 15? I’m going to be in Portland for most of that trip, but I’d make an epic drive for two days with you, especially if I had an event. Libraries typically pay me an honorarium these days, but if you have a contact and you’ll endorse me, I can reach out from there. We just might get our water together in one room. 🙂
Hugs. :'(
I tried to get real hugs from you in Atlanta last week. Has your US cell phone number changed? I texted that, but I never got a response. This reminded me to ask. And how are you feeling?
Something is up with the reply function (to previous comments). When I do it from my WP notifications window, it *looks* like I’m replying to your comment, but I don’t think you’re getting them. I replied to this one earlier – but then moseyed on over here to check it out and…nothing. No reply to your comment.
Which means, I’m guessing, that you never got my OTHER reply to your comment last Monday about joining you for dinner. I replied that my flight didn’t even leave TO until 9:00 pm, landing at ATL at 11:15 pm…
Anyway!! Re: your comment above – YES, I ditched the US cell and my CA cell when I joined this company as they cover all my mobile costs – providing I use their device. I’ll email you the new number – which works north and south of the border now. 🙂
Thanks for letting me know. One reason I’ve been scarce here is my unending frustration with little bugs like this. I’m trying to get enough on the list to report them all at once, though I’m sure I’m going to hear it’s something I’ve done/not done to cause the problem.
Anyway. Deep breath.
I’ll let you know next time we’ll be in Atlanta. MTM goes there pretty often, and I always tag along when I can. It’d be so great to see you.
Wow. Just wow.
I wish I knew where to submit this story. Some tweaks to make it new and, blam. It might actually gain some traction on a bigger site.
A little something for your tank: http://alpl.ent.sirsi.net/client/default/search/results?qu=Andra+Watkins&te=ILS&rt=false|||AUTHOR|||Author
Don’t know if this is due to my request or someone else’s, but . . .
Woo hoo! See? Your library requests make a difference!! Thank you so much for taking time to request my books. I’ll need to follow up with them and see if they’re interested in my Make a Memory program. Libraries are starting to pick it up, as you can see my from comment to Lori above. I’ve had several requests to come to your area.
This gave me chills and I loved it, andra –
Thanks, Beth. 🙂
You’re welcome. I still need to talk with the gal at our library here in LaGrange to see about getting them into the Evergreen (statewide consortium) system, but I WILL get it done, I promise.
I’ve always been a big fan of old axioms and inspirational quotes (even though my ability to apply them in my own life is sometimes lacking 🙂 ), and I found this site a little while ago: http://beyondthequote.com/motivational-quotes.html
and in that, this:
“Pennies do not come from heaven. They have to be earned here on earth.”
-Margaret Thatcher
Beyond The Quote
Anything can be accomplished when you set your mind to doing so. It is, however the lengths at which you go to achieve your ambitions that make it worthwhile.
No one can possibly fault you for not taking every avenue available, and I do believe your dreams will be fulfilled.
The Evergreen system would be awesome, Karen. Those systems typically order enough copies for each branch to have one, or in biggest systems, enough for a set number to have them on hand. If you notice my upcoming speaking calendar, that’s what happened in Simpsonville. They booked me to speak, but because they want the book for my August appearance, they must order one for every branch in the system. Yay me. 🙂
This is a long road. It wears me out sometimes. I’m definitely tweaking where I put my focus. The best way to avoid disappointment is to have no expectations. Ha. I got several messages from complete strangers last week, sharing stories that made me cry (in a good way.) I need to focus on that and let it (and news like yours) fill my well.
Thank you for being such a stalwart friend to me.
<3 <3 <3
Oh, Andra. What a beautiful piece. I could feel your pain and thirst. You know that you can ALWAYS find water here for you, anytime – all the time. Mi agua es tu agua, seriously. xoxo
I wish I could figure out how to come your way in July or August. 1. I could escape Hell. 2. I could hike and write. 3. I could see you.
I would spoil you rotten! No cilantro. xo
Don’t tempt me. I’d love to hole up in your basement for a week and write. 🙂
You make all our hearts full, Andra. I hope your tank tops up soon.
I scored another victory today. My novel will be the featured deal on BookBub May 29. I’ve been rejected there multiple times, so I squealed when I saw they finally selected something.
Loved this. You are blessed with talent and work hard bringing it out. Stay strong sister.
Will do. How can I not, knowing people like you? 🙂
Do you have an update on your sequel to My GRL? I know it was stalled with the publisher, and I haven’t seen any updates.
Amazing, chilling, powerful, ghostly. Stay strong sister. <3
I will. And I’ll try to be strength for you, too. I love you, Dear. xo
Ha. I thought of that line from Wall of Voodoo’s ‘Hands of Love’ that goes “I taste the water and the water tastes hot…” Now I know why I walk backwards from time to time. Nobody sneaking up on me to give me post ideas that way… 😀
I was grateful for this one. Absolutely. He was there for a reason.
Wonderful storytelling, Andra. You have such a talent for grabbing readers then unfolding a story that continues to live long after we finish your words. There is so much to think about in this one. And YAY for BookBub!
When I started writing, I wasn’t sure how it would turn out. I’m glad to hear it speaks to readers. Please say hi to John and Ryan.
Wonderful post and a what a great song to end it with!
Do have a great day and week!
Regards
Jim
I’ve loved Sam Cooke since I was a kid, Jim. My mom had the 45 record of “Everybody Likes to Cha-Cha-Cha.” It’s one of the first songs I remember.
I barely skimmed the surface of trying to do anything with my more creative side and felt destroyed with the results. So much so that I for all intents and purposes left it all behind a long time ago.
There is so much strength in you, even when you think there isn’t. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through but to see how far you’ve gone thus far I know you’re strong. Stronger than I was.
Stay strong sister.
Well, this sister needs her man to come home and take her out for a Cinco de Mayo MARGARITA!!
I could bend your ear all day on everything I’m going through. Nobody has all day. Or any part of all day. I’m trying very hard to develop writing friends online, because the writing community here treats me like a leper. Writing friends help, because they get all the stuff I struggle with, where my regular friends don’t.
But sometimes, I just want to scream, “DAMN!!!!! I listen to your worries about motherhood, and I’m not a mother. I listen to your heartache and your pain, because I was there once. I remember your milestones, even when you do nothing but send me a meaningless Facebook wish. I’m not a perfect friend, but I TRY. Why can’t you try?”
And I can’t really say any of those things……even though I suppose I just did.
Most writers who go anywhere talk about this issue, how their real-life friends don’t get it and how they have this barren desert of a time where what’s coming in pales in comparison to what floods out. Someday, I’ll get enough notes from readers to fill my well, and the slights, the rudeness, the apathy, the stupid, thoughtless crap won’t matter as much. But right now, today, I don’t have that. I can reach out to people online, but they can’t give me a hug. They can’t hold my hand while I cry. They can’t give me an hour in person just because.
And neither can people who CAN, apparently.
It’s a struggle not to be bitter, not to feel guilty that I’m pulling back what I’m wiling to give others now. But I have too many other things to do to worry about that right now, and most of those people haven’t even noticed I’m not there. So why bother?
Well hopefully he will be home soon so you can get that Margarita, and the hugs!
I definitely have part of a day for you if you want to meet up for lunch or something. I can’t say I’ll understand all of the specific writer-ly problems completely but I will try and it might be more important just to be around someone than someone who “gets it” completely, just let me know!
What is up with the writers around here? Are they an uppity type of group? It might be worth looking not only at writer friends but artist friends in general. Although I imagine some of the problems might be a bit different all artists have a lot of the same frustrations and dealing with getting their work seen/heard and dealing with acceptance/rejection. Plus a lot of them are big time characters that might inspire a fictional character on top of that.
I have gotten to the point with “the social media” that I think you are in. A lot of it seems like everyone wants a sounding board but there seems to be very little interaction and conversations, which is what drew me into it the most. I’ve also been told by some of the people closest to me that I don’t really have emotions, so perhaps I also don’t get involved in the same way as “normal” people. lol, this might be why I have so few friends too.
But yeah, I can definitely give you an hour in person, just because. 🙂
I’m pretty wide open next Monday??? Lunch/dinner/drinks/bubble tea???
I’m down, let’s do a lunch! But now the much harder decision…where to go! lol
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