A Collide in a Stride.

 Chapter one.

 

    KNOCK KNOCK!!! The bedroom door swings open, hitting the wall with a THUD, interrupting a deep dreamless sleep. "Oh, son I'm sorry. Did I wake you?" Mr. Williams teased. Alex rubs his eyes and turns towards his father, who is slowly walking to his bed side. "Well son, looks like its about that time, you know where you get ready for school." Still in a daze, Alex looks up at his dad towering over him. "Have you ever wanted to sleep forever?" he groaned. "No, son not at all." He places one huge hand on his shoulder and continues. "Because if I were to sleep forever. I would miss you and your mother so much, its unbearable to even think of..." He trails off unloading seven kinds of mushy love, memories, and all the stories Alex can tell you by heart. "Well dad, on that note, I'll be getting up now!" His dad backed away swiftly. "OHHH WELL I WILL NOT APOLGIZE FOR LOVING MY SON!" He stuck his chest out pretending to be some battle scared barbarian. "I HAVE DONE THINGS FOR YOU THAT YOU WOULDNT EVEN DREAM OF DOING!" He throws his arms around Alex and tackles him back onto the twin-size bed with a loud BOOM. Alex tried to laugh... but couldn't breathe. He's reminded of an old memory, five years old and his father is standing tall, flexing his muscles after throwing him on the couch, both of them laughing out of control. 

    "What are you guys doing up there?!" A firm high pitched yell from some where down stairs, Mrs. Williams can be heard amid all the chaos. "Michael, you better quit playing around, you will miss your meeting and Alex is going to be late for school!" she barks.  They look at each other. Michael stands slowly to once again, tower over him and in a monster tone he whispers. "This is not over son!" Using his fingers Alex pretends to put on war paint. "I'll be waiting!" He whispers back. As his father leaves to get ready he takes huge loud steps out of his room. "HEY! Stop all that racket and get ready!" Mrs. Williams has had enough. 

    Alex gets up from his bed and opens the blinds letting the morning light in, the morning sun lights up the room enough to see what he would be choosing to wear today. The sun can be seen through the top of the trees, not a cloud in the sky. "Looks like a hoodie for the morning, that'll be off and rolled up in my bag by noon." he says aloud. The suburbs of Boulder county offer a mix of hot and cold weather through out the days of May. Highs of seventy degrees Fahrenheit when the sun is out, and low forties with cloud cover, sometimes the wind would not blow whatsoever leaving only hot sun rays to heat the day up, today would be one of those days. Shirt and jeans would be just fine, its not like any body notices anyway. He picks out a plain greenish light blue shirt, with a favorite pair of Levi's. A quick visit to the bathroom and the mirror says comb your hair. 

    After a quick brush through its on to cologne. "Now, Alex you have two choices." He proclaims in a game-show host voice. "The blue one, that kind of smells like a woman's perfume." He points to the blue one. "Or the brown one that smells like a Grandpa." Picking up a brown bottle, takes off the cap, points the nozzle towards himself and lets the mist fall on to his shirt and soak in. "Great choice Mr. Alex!" He declares.  "Who you talking to son?" His dad asks from down the hall. Alex locks eyes with his reflection in the mirror. "Myself, pop." he stretches. "Well Alex, they say geniuses and crazy people talk to themselves... so which one are you?" Alex crosses his eyes  his reflection in the mirror the same and responds. "A genius of course." Mr. Williams pokes his head into the bathroom, smiles and quietly signals to an invisible watch on his wrist. "Yes, sir." Alex sighed. 

    They  both walked down stairs. His dad always made it a point that his son knew how lucky he was to live in a home with two floors. Mr. Williams grew up poor, number four of five siblings. Alex could tell anyone his fathers story line for line as he had heard it all of his young life. He knew very well how fortunate they all were. One summer his father took them to where he had grown up, a small Texas town. Alex got to see the home where his father had lived. Seven people living in a three bedroom home, it must've been tough. "Life is what you make it, son." His father always said that, it was his quote. Mr. Williams worked very hard to make damn sure his family would want for nothing, and he loved to remind anyone who would care to listen. His dads life story was more of a cautionary tale, its like he was terrified his only son would go down the wrong path in life and end up homeless or worse.  Alex understood how much his father cared about him and his future, that's why he kept certain things from his dad, if he ever found out about the night life with friends on weekends his father would be having an in-depth talk with him and perhaps ground him for life. 

    The first floor of their home was filled with bohemian décor. Mr. Williams fell in love with a free spirited young woman from Colorado who was studying at The University of Texas at Austin, eleven years his junior, another story Alex could recite word for word by heart. She was celebrating her twenty first birthday, the entire bar had her attention. All the roads he had taken in his life had lead him to this moment, this beautiful young girl standing on top of the bar singing along to Piano Man, surrounded by friends and strangers, with him being the lesser. He would start the story with, "I had twenty dollars to my name, I had to ask your uncle jack for one dollar, to make it twenty one, which I still owe him to this day." He would pause and turn to his wife and continue. "She could've had anyone in that bar that night, but she chose to have a drink with this poor man who offered her twenty one dollars for drinks, a dollar for every year she had lived on this earth."  On que she would reply, "I just wanted the money!" And everyone would laugh. 

    "I made you guys some breakfast sandwiches to-go, maybe tomorrow we can all sit down and have a nice family breakfast." Mrs. Williams, lived for family time. Board games, dinner, movies or just sharing each others day. It didn't matter to her, as long as they were all together, safe in one place.  "Well thanks little lady, and what might be your name?" Mr. Williams said in his best John Wayne draw. "Oh, Michael you should've been an actor." He looked at Mrs. Williams like he did when they first met. "But Emma, if I was an actor, I would be practicing my roles in all the movies my agent would sign me up for and wouldn't have any time for you. I would just miss you to death!" He soothed. They shared a laugh, and hugged each other. 

    Alex had to step around them to grab his breakfast sandwich. Emma broke her gaze from Michael reached in her purse and handed Alex a envelope. "Son, here is a check. Please give it to Mrs. Crabtree, for your lunches this week." She hands him the check, he looks it over and admires her handwriting, handwriting that he could pick out anywhere. "Thanks, but next time can you make it out to me, so I can just cash it behind your back?" None of his parents laughed. Just stared. "Well you guys have a great day, I got to go, almost sure ill be swamped with paperwork." she sighed. "Well Emma, darling just remember without you they wouldn't know what to do. You just keep doing what you are doing, and remember Hawaii is just around the corner, my love." Mr. Williams, always looked at the Brightside of things. "Yes, sir, and I just can not wait!" she gushed with bright eyes. They embraced, followed by a quick kiss. 

    "Alright son lets get out of here!" His father insisted. "Bye, mom." Alex said giving her a hug. "Be sure to eat your sandwich Alex, and have a great Friday." She let him go, and gazed at him with adoring eyes. "That shirt really brings out your eyes, son." He crossed his eyes. "how about now?" she rolled hers. "Bye, son." She laughed and pointed at her husband. "He gets that from you Michael." Mr. Williams threw a thumbs up her way. The father and son duo walk out of the kitchen into the mudroom and into the garage, armed with hot breakfast sandwiches. Ready for the day.

Sincerely Yours,

                                                                 Timothy.

DO YOU BELIEVE IN GHOSTS?

 "There are no ghosts in this world. Save those we make ourselves." - Sherlock Holmes. 

If someone were to ask me the question, " do you believe in ghosts?" Instead of offering a YouTube link of captured evidence, a creepy Reddit ghost story or a Facebook group page dedicated to stock piling photos of ghost captures, the only thing I can offer is my personal experience. 

 

 

Dear Reader,

 At twenty two years old, like many at that age, I was extremely irresponsible but only when it came to certain areas of my life. For instance I would go out drinking while I was on call, and show up the following Monday night shift completely hungover. "Make all fair allowance for the mistakes of youth."-Juvenal.  On this day I arrived late to work. Arriving late to work, meant you must report to a field supervisor (which is basically my bosses boss). " Mr. Hernandez, so glad you could join us today." as I calmly take a seat, "I'm so sorry, Insert some sorry excuse." I reply. He pulls out a list of absences. "Save it kid, this one has to be a written one!"  I hang my head, " yes sir." I acknowledged. He didn't seem to care. "After you sign this, Ill drop you off at the worksite. Your crew is already there." 

 I learned a lot working for the city but not from the people running the show. Most of the knowledge I obtained was from the old timers, the men with 5 years left to retire. The ones who grew up in the same city they now serve, from gossip to historical facts, trust me when I say I learned a thing or two about a thing or two.  Driving in silence which felt like an eternity, we finally arrive at my destination which is considered downtown, the oldest part of the city. The location is in middle of  a cul-de-sac, two homes to the right,  an old building to the left with a condo style apartment in the back yard of the building. The old building had a construction fence around it, with a large roll-off dumpster on the front yard, the kind used when renovating an old building. My task that day was to help install a new waste water service line. As I stroll to the excavation site in the window of the old building was a man wearing short sleeve coveralls with his arm in the air offering a "hello" type gesture. I politely wave, returning the gesture, and hang my head as I approach my crew, waiting for the ass chewing coming my way, only to hear laughter. I mange to let out, "yeah, yeah let me have it now so we can all finish this stupid day in peace." Trying his best to control his laughter was Mr. M. "Who were you waving at?" he questioned. Turning back to the building and pointing, I grumble, " some worker in the building, he waved at me so I waved back." He laughs again, " there's no one in there..." He trails off about how the crew working on that house doesn't arrive till 10am. I roll my eyes as Mr. M  was known for playing games and tricks on fellow employees. "Sure bro, anyways..." and we start our work day.

 An hour later at ten o'clock on the dot, the home renovating crew rolls up. " I'll be right back ."  M tells me with a wink and heads in the direction of the workers gathering in the front of the old building.  As I get ready to leave with a dump truck loaded with asphalt and gravel waste, M signals me to get out of the truck and come talk with him. "What's up bro?"  I mumbled. M introduces the foreman of the house. "Hello, I heard you saw someone waving at you in the window." I turn red with embarrassment, "Hey, I believe you," he began "this was an old funeral home owned by the man you saw in the window, he was wearing overalls?" I nod my head and he continues. "You know they say if you see him in the morning it means you will have a stripe of good luck!" Then he lowers his voice. " But if you see him at night, he supposedly follows you home..." he trails off about the legend, offering examples of validity. "So you're saying ill have good luck?" Both M and the foreman laugh at my reply. " Yes, that's what that means, you know, if you believe in stuff like that." he laughs, shakes my hand and pats me on the shoulder.  The rest of the day was pretty uneventful, we got the job done safety without incident. I clock out that day, and M is waiting for me in the parking lot. "When you gonna see that good luck?" It's six o'clock and the sun is down, its chilling with a wet breeze from the coast. "I have no idea M, maybe someday soon." he laughs at that reply and we end the work day with a ,"later." 

  I needed fuel for the rest of the work week, so I decided to get it over with and stop at a gas station before I went home to my one bedroom apartment. I'm fueling up and a thought comes to mind. "Good luck." I've never liked to gamble, the way I see it,  if I lose money I might as well have ate the cash that I lost. "Good luck." I had a twenty dollar bill in my wallet, I never carrying cash, (that's an entire different story). But today I had that bill from a long weekend, and I was gonna put this good luck theory to the test. The twenty dollar lotto ticket burned a hole in my pocket on the way home. "Good luck." When I got home I wanted my nightly routine lined out before scratching the ticket, so I placed it on the dining table and proceeded with shower, shave, and dinner. With a hot dish consisting of my grandmas left-over cooking from the weekend, I scratch the first number revealing a one hundred dollar sign. "Good luck." The second number, the same. All in all, the numbers revealed five one hundred dollar signs and the game was called Five of Five.

 

"Good luck." I whispered. 

 

 

Sincerely Yours,

  

Timothy.

 

 

 

Dream Big.

 "Dreams don't work unless you do." 

        Do you have a dream? 

Is it of the future? Perhaps to correct the past? If you're anything like me, you have had several dreams, some became reality and some fell to pieces before they even started. In my short lifetime no matter the dream I've always kept one quote in mind, "some of us may never see the world." 

 

Dear Reader,

  Imagination can fuel lots of things, like turning a living room into an enormous castle surrounded by  an endless wasteland, scourged earth or a cursed forest.

Growing up, the scenarios my sisters and I would create with our minds;  a vast empire ruled by a  Beautifully vile queen that had ever ruled a domain. (played by my oldest sister Amber) she would layout her master plan to trap the princess in an Endless sleep, a tangled maze, or on a forbidden island. The princess, (played by my youngest sister.) was the damsel in distress, and the hero prince, (played by yours truly) the prince of all the land set to rule after he can prove his worth and bring his sister back to the kingdom. These scenarios would keep us entertained for years to come. until one day we played one last time, and to this day I try my best to remember that day and for the life of me I can not. Did the hero save his sister, the princess? Did the queen take back her kingdom which was stolen away by the false mortal king?  

    And that's my dream, to see how that last quest ended. I am starting college courses in January, I've not taken a class since 2006 so I'm really looking forward to truly challenging myself like the Queen (in real life), she went to pursue her dream in nursing, and is now a  R.N. on the front lines during the global pandemic. A noble cause. The Princess (in real life), Became the most loving stay-at-home mommy, with an artistic touch as she has graced many people with her amazing make-up techniques. And the Hero (in real life), has had many, many journeys and was given an opportunity to start a new journey. The Ultimate journey.

College. (lol) 

 

Here's to dreams.

Here's to dreamers. 

 

 

 

 

sincerely yours, 

Timothy