NIGHTLIFE

by

K. W. Gering & L. A. Hendricks

I sat there on that hillside as I have done endless times before on countless other hillsides. The eastern horizon was almost black with just a hint of color starting to show. A small almost visible crease of light across the line that separated land from sky. It was like a grim smile that mocked me with its presence. The smile of God himself damning me to my present fate. It was a cruel smile indeed but one I could not turn away from, even had I wanted to. I was joined to that small gasp of light. I needed it. I wanted it. I was almost like a junkie in my need for the morning’s light. My nerves were raw in anticipation of the coming glory and yet I knew I would again be denied its sweet caress.

The wind blew over my head as if reaching out to kiss that smudge of light. Its cool breath chilling my very soul as I sat there, knowing full well I would not see the sun. Always the wind appeared as I sat on the hillsides watching for the sun. Always it was cold and dismal to my very existence as if nature herself hated me. In fact she did hate me. The whole damn world hated me. I hated me.

I suffered a chill that had haunted me for ages, and I suspect would haunt me for ages to come. I pulled my leather jacket tighter to my gaunt frame. It really didn’t help but it made me feel a little better. I have worn this jacket for years, years beyond counting. It has born up well with all my travels and journeys through the endless night that is my life. It was the only friend I had, if a jacket can be called a friend. It was the only thing that I could truly call my own in this world that detested me so

The ground underneath was damp from the night dew that had settled on it after sunset last evening when the world cooled down into its night mode. I sat in the wetness anyway. It didn’t really matter whether I was wet or dry, uncomfortable was uncomfortable and I hadn’t been comfortable for as long as I could remember. And so I sat watching that horizon for a sign that I was forgiven.

A sign that I knew would not be coming this night, though I hoped against hope deep inside my being that this torment would someday end. That at last I could just be human again, to live and die. The despair once again filled my essence with its harsh cold embrace.

Despair. I have had it so long that I can’t remember ever being happy or even just okay. Sometimes I think that I am despair and that I can no more get rid of it than I can get rid of myself. And God have I longed to get rid of myself. To just end this eternal torment of unceasing darkness, this constant reminder of the blot on my soul. No, not a blot but my whole soul twisted and blackened far beyond redemption.

Suicide. Of all the people in the world who have contemplated this or even succeeded at this, I am the one who has given it the most thought, the most tries. More times than I can even count. Somehow I never manage to complete it; something always interferes and saves me. Saves me so that I can continue to exist as a pathetic ghost of a time long past, a relic of a world long faded into dust and forgotten, except by me. Funny, I have also been cursed with a perfect memory. I get to remember every lousy detail of every lousy minute of my damned existence.

I turned away from my self loathing and internal turmoil to peer at the horizon again. It was getting lighter as I watched it. Color was starting to spread across the expanse of the sky signaling the arrival of yet another day for the inhabitants of this land, signaling the start of another long night for my accursed self.

I waited for the inevitable as the sky brightened even further. I could hear and feel the wind pick up as if heading for the crescendo of dawn. Birds started chirping, happily greeting the approaching dawn. The rustling of small animals could be heard coming from the grass around me as they too started their day anticipating the sun.

I watched the horizon again and saw the first ray from that rising orb hit me in the eyes and then it faded as the sun set again on my world.

I looked around to see where I was. The hillside was gone, replaced by a long lonely street with a view to the west. I always get to see the sun set no matter where I end up. I was in some city, a dingy city of dirt and neglect.

The buildings around me reflected the darkest fears of the human soul. Half the buildings were boarded up, the other half should have been. They appeared to be slowly rotting into themselves. In the glare of the only working streetlight, I could see the trash drifting across the open street and bare lawns of dirt and weeds. This was a neighborhood that looked like I felt. Full of despair and hopelessness. I almost smiled at the irony.

There were people standing in the shadows of this neighborhood, if neighborhood it could be called. I could see their eyes peering out of the shadows watching me carefully. I could feel the anguish in their souls as I looked back at them. Human refuse lost in their own filth and anger. They were lucky. They could die and escape. I envied them.

I started to walk eastward down the street along the wreck of a sidewalk that bordered it. I always head east. I am driven to get to morning as fast as I can. I know that walking will not significantly speed up the time till sunrise but again it makes me feel a little better and I take all the feeling better I can get.

I left the streetlight far behind and walked in almost pure darkness now. Most people would be scared to walk in this decayed neighborhood at night in this most dark of places. Afraid of being attacked by their fellow humans. The refuse of humanity preying on the slightly less unfortunate. I could sense them around me. Trying to decide if I was worth confronting or not.

One pathetic example of the creeps in this area stepped out in front of me with a knife pointed menacingly at me. I could see the fear mixed with greed in his eyes. He was a brave one; I gave him that much.

He was wearing ragged jeans that hung low and were held on by a piece of rope. His shirt was dirty and it was hard to tell what color it had originally been. I suspect that it and he had not seen soap in a long while. His hair was black and greasy and hung to his shoulders. There was an odd tattoo on his neck, some gang symbol I figured.

He struggled to speak as he stood there with his knife. “Give me your wallet asshole!”

I just stood there watching him. I almost laughed at this pathetic attempt to rob me. Me of all people. Hell, I didn’t even have a wallet, or money, or anything worth taking. Robbing me was like trying to steal from the wind, you weren’t going to get much.

He became confused and angry when I did nothing but stand there.

“Your money mister! NOW!” He managed to scream at me. His hands were starting to shake.

I looked him in the eyes and he looked back. He lost his gruff demeanor as he saw deep into my soul. He saw the dangers that lurked within that blackest of places, the hints of hell that leaked out of my being and tainted those who got too close. His face turned from anger to fear as he saw the mark within me. His knife dropped from his quaking hand as he turned and ran away hoping to save himself from my fate. He was one of the smarter ones. You didn’t mess with the man who bore the mark. I sighed and continued on my way.

As I walked I drifted into the past and the reason for which I am damned to roam the earth, in the darkness, forever.

I had been a farmer like my father before me. My brother had been a cattle herder. We lived in a world far removed from the present. It was a world of joy and laughter, a bright world of sunshine and warm breezes. Until He ruined it. He destroyed the happy world I had known and replaced it with darkness and despair, cold and suffering, damnation without end.

There were about one hundred people in our tribe. Ad amah was the patriarch and my father, our father. Chavah was our mother, the matriarch of the tribe. She who bore all of us in her life. I was the firstborn of their love. My brother was their next child and the others came after that. My brother and I were the best of friends. Until that fateful day when we were young men. The day He came between us.

My brother’s name was Hevel, I was Kayn. We were inseparable. Since we had been little children we had explored the world together, getting into scrapes and finding new wonders to behold. As we grew he leaned towards tending animals while I followed in our father’s footsteps and became a farmer. Not just a farmer but a master of the fields and all the plants that grew in them. I was proud of my skills with the plow. I had taken the knowledge that my father had given me and expanded it, learning new ways to increase the fertility of the soil, increasing the yields and feeding our people and then some.

Hevel tended his cattle. I used to laugh at him for following those smelly animals around. It was all in good fun. He did truly love wandering the open grasslands with his herd. Often after a hard day of plowing, I would seek him out to talk about things. He always had interesting ideas about the world and our place in it.

He used to carry on about the nature of Yahweh, the god our father had told us about. He always wondered what exactly Yahweh was, who he was, where he was. Father had told us the stories about Yahweh and the creation of the world and how he and mother had betrayed Yahweh’s trust and had been forced to leave the Garden years before I was born. Hevel really put a lot of thought into Yahweh and in what we humans should do to honor him for creating our world and us. I never gave it much thought. I had never seen Yahweh, no one had except our parents.

I couldn’t always understand Hevel’s fascination with someone he couldn’t see or hear or talk to or anything. Yahweh was just a name to me, nothing more. I figured that if I couldn’t see it or touch it or hear it, it wasn’t important. How wrong I was!

That fateful day dawned with the usual promise of blue skies and a warm wind. It ended with the descending of eternal night, for me anyway. I had been in my fields. I was weeding around the wheat and barley plants when I heard a voice calling my name. A loud booming voice!

“KAYN! KAYN!”

I looked around but saw nobody. I thought maybe that Hevel was playing a trick on me. I ran all around my fields looking for him but saw nothing, just my grains waving in the wind. I was puzzled. Then I heard that voice again.

“KAYN. PREPARE ME A BURNT OFFERING OF THE BEST OF YOUR FIELDS SO THAT I MAY SAVOR THE ODORS OF YOUR GIFT AND BE HONORED BY YOU. THUS SAYS YAHWEH, YOUR LORD AND GOD.”

I fell to the ground in fear. I had never really believed in Yahweh. Now he was talking to me. I cringed on the ground for a while but the voice was silent. I ran to Hevel in his pasture to tell him what had happened. When I got there, I could tell that he too had been spoken to. His face was gleaming; there was no hint of fear in his eyes. I felt ashamed that I had known fear but I kept it inside.

He spoke, “Brother! Has Yahweh spoken to you?” I nodded. He continued, “Then let us prepare our offerings to him so that we might be blessed by his presence!”

When I didn’t move, he looked over at me. “Brother, Yahweh waits on no man! Gather the best of your fields and I will offer my best cattle. Join me at the altar stone!” He turned to inspect his animals.

I slowly walked back to my fields thinking about this offering I was supposed to have. The food I was growing was really for my people to eat. Why did this Yahweh need the best? If all I was going to do was burn up my offering, I figured that it didn’t matter if it was the best or merely ok. It would smell the same to him and my people would still get the better food to eat. This reasoning worked for me and I gathered up my offering from the smaller plants of the field. Soon I had enough to satisfy even a god’s hunger.

I arrived at the alter site with my offering and saw Hevel already there. He had killed one of his best bulls and was preparing to burn it on the altar stone. I put my offering on top of his so that they would be burned together.

Hevel looked at what I had brought and asked, “Brother? Is this the best that you have?”

I looked him straight in the eye and replied, “Yes Hevel. Let’s do this.”

He looked skeptical but kept his mouth shut as he lit the fire. I was surprised at how fast the offering burned up. It was over in just a few moments. When the smoke cleared I could see that the offering of the bull was completely gone but my grain had not even been charred.

Hevel’s eyes widened at the sight of my offering still lying on that altar unburnt. He knew what that meant. I had lied. I had cheated Yahweh out of his due. I saw him look at me accusingly.

“Brother, why have you done this?” There was anguish in his voice.

Suddenly I was filled with rage. How dare he accuse me of anything! Inside I was in panic over having been caught. I had to hide my guilt and shame and fear. I grabbed a stone off the altar and hit Hevel in the head, hard. He never had a chance and fell to the ground with a loud cry. I leaned over and hit him again and again until his cries stopped. My rage suddenly lifted and I saw that his face still had that accusing look upon it. I can never forget the smell of the blood I spilled those many years ago, the haunting cries of my brother as he died under my angry blows.

I looked around at the darkness still surrounding me. The sky was clouded over and the lights from the city cast a pall glow off of them providing a faint illumination that lit the darkness but a little.

I continued to walk down that lonely street through a torn neighborhood filled with empty dreams. Dreams of a better world that would never come. Not for me anyway. And in the end, that is all that matters.

A scream came out of a nearby alley. A women’s scream. Probably a rape. I was going to keep going, after all it was none of my business, but then I heard her cry “Help me, God help me!”

Damn! I knew God wouldn’t help her. He didn’t get involved in human affairs anymore, at least not from what I’ve seen over the years. Well if God wouldn’t help, I would! I will not give him any chance for praise.

I ran across the cracked and pothole filled street and entered the alley where the screams were still echoing off the broken brickwork of the buildings to either side. There were two men, if I can call them that, trying to tear the clothes off a girl. They looked like standard street scum. Non-descript and dirty.

She saw me enter the alley over their shoulders and they noticed her look and quickly turned to face me. One held onto the struggling girl while the other confronted me.

“This ain’t none of your business mister! Take a hike!” He said threateningly. He took a gun out and pointed it at me.

I looked at him, his partner and the girl. She was a looker. Young, perhaps eighteen or so. Her dark hair was a mess hanging down over her tear streaked face. What was left of her clothes were tatters barely covering her body. Her left arm was trying to hold up these remnants while she tried to pull away from the grip on her right arm.

The second man held her tightly as he watched his partner deal with me. I looked back at the man with the gun and smiled. Not a cheerful “how are you” smile, but the smile of a grinning corpse promising nasty things.

He gulped as he stood there with that gun. He looked into my eyes and saw the danger that lurked within. He spoke to his partner with fear in his voice. “George? I think we had better leave. This guy is dangerous.” The gun hand fell to his side as he started to back up away from me.

“What? You cowered! He is only one guy. Gimme that gun!” George pushed the girl to the ground and took the gun out of the other’s hand. George proved that some people are just more stupid than others, too stupid to heed the warning signs.

“George! I don’t think you should . . .” He started. Then the gun went off.

It had been aimed right at my chest. Would have been a great shot, had it hit. George stood in disbelief looking at my unharmed body. I should have had a rather large hole in my chest.

George’s look of disbelief changed to the glaze of glass as he fell to the ground with seven bullet holes in his chest. His body lay there unmoving, blood leaking out and mixing with the grease and oil of the concrete. His partner gasped and then ran away into the night. His running panicked footsteps faded away.

The girl just looked up at me, fear in her eyes. She wasn’t sure if I was her savior or a worse threat. I held out my hand to her and she took it timidly. I pulled her to her feet and let go. Her eyes widened as she looked into mine. She too saw the mark.

I looked at her a bit then turned to go. As I walked back out of that alley I heard her say quietly, “Thank you. God bless you!”

I chuckled harshly at that phrase. It wasn't her fault that God would never bless one such as me. I was beyond redemption. I turned to look at her one last time. She saw the look of hopelessness on my face, gave a small cry, and then she too scurried off. Good riddance I thought.

The wind picked up and blew chill. Dew now covered the ground. I turned east again and kept going. I had a sunrise to catch.