Moving On

Todd was an emotionally delicate man. Then he'd made the mistake of basing his self-worth on something as flimsy as a woman's affection. When he'd lost it, Todd lost himself as well. That's how he'd come to be homeless and slumped against the wall of a dark alley when the bum with the knife came to him. Todd was surprised to see him, but also indifferent. He had really ceased to live long before the night of his death. He sat with his head bowed between his knees, trying to sleep, but tortured with thoughts of his lost love. He was shivering in the cold night, in spite of his wool coat and knit hat. It was the coat that drew the wild-eyed old man with the knife.

The bum kicked him in the leg to get his attention. Todd looked up, irritated to have his thoughts of her interrupted. The bum flashed the steak knife at him, holding it so that its blade reflected the streetlights in Todd's eyes. The bum had a stubbly excuse for a white beard and an insane expression. He reeked of sour alcohol and exhaled great breaths of vapor into Todd's face as he knelt down and placed the knife against his throat.

He wasn't wearing a coat; only a filthy and tattered long-sleeve shirt.

"Give me the coat, boy!" he said. "Or I'll slit your throat!"

Todd would have given him the coat. He even wanted to, but just couldn't bring himself to do it. It would have taken too much effort. He just sat with his back against the wall looking at the man with apathetic eyes.

"Did you hear me, son?" he said. "Take off your goddamned coat and give it to me or I'll squirt your blood all over this alley. Don't think I haven't done it before."

Todd looked into his eyes and believed that he was quite serious. He thought the old man was a predator, nothing but a wild animal in human form. But he was a scrawny man as well, his strength already compromised by alcohol. Todd thought he could have fought him and won, even armed with the knife as he was.

But he didn't. He just didn't have the energy.

"Kill me, you son of a bitch," Todd said. "I don't give a damn." Todd snugged his neck against the knife so tightly that it drew a thread of blood that coursed like molasses down the blade until it reached the man's fingers.

The old man hesitated, unnerved by Todd's indifference.

"I'll kill you, son. I'm not joking," he said. His tone was almost apologetic.

But even as he said the words, he tried to remove the knife from Todd's throat. It was then that Todd realized the man was not a killer after all; only a sad, homeless drunk trying to stay warm. But he refused to let the opportunity pass him by. He would have never summoned the energy to commit suicide on his own, but knew to take a gift when it was offered.

"If you're too much of a coward," he said. "I'll do the deed myself." He grabbed the man's wrist and pulled the knife forward as he thrust his throat against the glimmering blade. He felt the briefest moment of pain and watched his blood spray from the wound onto the old man's dilapidated boots. The man leapt back in horror, dropping the knife, and emitting a squeal of terror.

Todd would have laughed at him if he had not been dying. With each fading heartbeat, he watched his blood spew from the slashed artery onto the cobblestones of the alley. The old man fled, forgetting the coat he'd come to steal. Todd pictured her face in his mind one last time, wishing he could touch it, but knowing he never would. In the moment before his death, he thought he saw her leaning over him with tears in her eyes.

"I love you, Todd," she said as she kissed him on the cheek. He shivered from the pleasure of her imagined touch. Then he died.

For a time, he knew only blackness, wandering in a void, looking for the light that was supposed to appear at the end of the tunnel, wondering if it would open to Heaven or Hell. No light showed itself. Time lost its meaning as he meandered in the darkness. Sadness and loneliness had been longtime companions and they followed him here. Finally, he slumped down in the void, too tired to move, no longer caring where he went or what fate awaited his soul.

Katie was not here either. He had no desire to be where she was not.


As the thought left his mind, he experienced a falling sensation. In the next moment, he found himself within the world again. He was standing outside of a bedroom window. Around him, a blizzard roared, but did not touch him. The wind howled and sent great fluffy flakes of snow careening in every direction. The house was quite large; a Spanish style home full of windows and doors. Long, pointy icicles hung from the eves of the roof. The snow had piled almost to the height of the window. Todd did not feel the cold or the wind. He was a ghost with no more substance than a shadow in a dream. Todd looked down at his hand and was surprised to see that he held the knife with which he had slain himself. His blood had congealed upon the blade, frozen by the coldness of the night.

Through the window, he saw a woman sleeping. Only her face protruded from the covers. It was Katie. She slept on her side with her face toward the window, her tousled blond hair hanging over her eyes. She was unmindful of the blizzard or of the specter who watched her.

Love and longing filled him, and he yearned to be next to her. Unconsciously, he floated through the window to her side. He stroked her face with unfeeling fingers, worshipping her essence. He remembered how he’d once touched her so intimately. Her body was so familiar to him still. This was the only woman he had ever loved.

But she had never returned his love. He had been a selfless man with a fragile heart and she had broken it. But he didn't blame her for it. She could only be who she was.

Todd knew that to her, he had been a means to an end, water when she was thirsty, wine when she wanted to be drunk. It was never more than that to her. She never led him on; never pretended she needed him to make her whole, never spoke of a future with him by her side. He was not authoritative enough for her, she had said. She wanted a man with more common sense, a man who acted with great conviction. She needed a man to be a man, and not a flower.

Besides, she said she had no use for marriage and all children were brats who compromised your freedom. She had called him when she'd wanted him and put him away when she was done. That was the nature of their relationship.

But in spite of her words, she could not deny she enjoyed his company. They talked for hours of nothing and of things that mattered. They often drank excessively and laughed at their foibles. They had danced naked without the need of music. They had inside jokes and a secret handshake. She had brought a brightness to his life he had never known.

But she never loved him. She appreciated his presence. She was glad that he was there for her in this strange Southern place she had come to without knowing a soul. He thought she was magical. She thought he was convenient. She was a career-minded woman, and when she was offered a higher paying job in her native Yankee land, she took it, leaving him without a twinge of remorse. He wanted to go with her, but she would not consider it. He would be a fish out of water there, she said. Here, everyone languished about, drank sweet tea on the porch, and took three minutes to utter a sentence. There, life was lived in the fast lane. People were on the move and if you got in the way, they ran you over without a second thought. He told her that he could adjust. But she knew better. The last night she saw him, he cried bitterly while she hugged him reluctantly. Todd had lost both of his parents during his life, but losing her was the bitterest pill of all.

After she left, he withered away like a delicate orchid in a desert. He had always been too sensitive to operate effectively in the world. Everything seemed to affect him more than it should have. Lights were too bright. Sounds were too loud. Smells were too strong. He felt his emotions too strongly in every direction. Each day, when he stepped beyond the boundaries of his home, the world poured into him with all of its intensity. There were days that he relished this trait and times when he felt superior to the rest of the world who could not experience life so fully. But the constant stimuli also wore him down. Then he needed silence and isolation to recharge his batteries.

After Katie left, they would no longer recharge. He became detached. He went through the motions, but nothing seemed to matter any longer. The world became very stale to him. He tried to pretend that no blow had been dealt to him. People broke up everyday, he told himself. There were other women to be found.

Todd was not an unattractive fellow. He was tall and handsome. He had a sweet, easy-going personality and women found him easy to talk to. He decided for a time to drown her memory by becoming a true ladies' man. This ploy worked for a while. Soon, so many women dialed his number that he took to unplugging his phone at night. Some were quite smart and attractive, but none of them were Katie. After a few months, he cut them off entirely.

He worked as a businessman, crunching numbers in a cubicle. He had never worked for any other motivation than receiving a paycheck. Soon, he began to find excuses to call in sick. Then he took a week's vacation and when the week was up, he still did not return to work. His boss called him the first day he missed work without calling in. He had listened to the phone listlessly, making no move to answer it.

"Todd," his boss said on the answering machine. "Missed you at work today. It's not like you to not even call. Tell me what's going on, man. We're worried about you."

But Todd didn't call. The next two days his boss called again with the same message, sounding more concerned each time. Two days after that, his boss called one final time to tell him he was sorry to have to let him go.

Todd had once exercised regularly, but now he did nothing. He had once been an avid reader and a passionate follower of sports. Now the games were hollow to him and his feeble attempts at reading resulted in his eyes passing across words on a page without any sense of feeling. He became numb and inert. Two months passed without his rent being paid. He tried not to think. He tried to quiet his mind to nothing. He wanted to make himself empty, without feeling. But he could never achieve the state of Zen he sought. Instead his mind was filled with longing.

If she only knew what I would give to her. If she gave me another chance, he thought. Then she would see. She would finally see all I could offer her. Then we would do magical things together. Together, we could conquer the world.

But she couldn't see. She would not return his phone calls or answer the emails in which he poured his heart out to her except with curt single sentences that sent his heart to fresh depths.

’Sorry you feel that way,’ she would write. Or: ‘It's nothing personal, I've only moved on. You should too.’

Todd was convinced she just did not understand. If she only understood the depth of his feeling, the trueness and purity of his love, she would not turn him away so callously.

Then the night came that she finally called. He saw her number on his caller ID and was rapturous with joy. She was finally going to give him a chance. She was finally coming around for him. He picked the phone up on the first ring, his heart skipping in his chest.

They made small talk for several minutes, but Todd could tell she was working up the courage to tell him the real reason for her call. He crossed his fingers, hoping for the best. It seemed she would never get to it, so Todd had finally asked her.

"Why did you call, Katie?"

She was silent for half a minute before she answered.

"Todd, I think you should leave me alone I've told you I've moved on. You're sweet, but you're not the guy for me. You shouldn't call me or email me anymore, ok? I don't really love you. I never really did. Is that clear enough for you? Can you understand that? I know this hurts your feelings but I'm only being honest with you. Can you understand what I'm telling you?"

Todd couldn't answer. He laid the phone back on its cradle, his heart beating sickly, hot tears in his eyes. He lay alone in the darkness of his room, feeling the last light of hope flee from his soul.

I mean nothing to her, he thought. But my life means nothing without her. I am hollow and empty. Even as he thought these things, he knew they were contemptible. A man should not be broken so easily. He knew this, but was broken nonetheless.

He finally deserted his apartment before he was formally evicted and made his way downtown to live on the park benches and the alleys amongst his fellow vagrants. He was too proud to beg and contented himself with rummaging through trashcans. He lived in this state for two months before meeting his death.



Now he stood beside her once more, where he had longed to be for so long. But she could not see him. He wanted to lie beside her; to feel her warm body next to his the way he had once done. But even in death, he would not invade her bed without her consent. So he leaned against the wall and watched her sleep, treasuring every moment of the night she lay in his sight. In his hand, he still held the knife that had slit his throat.

He watched her for a long time before he noticed she did not sleep alone.

Another man slept in the place Todd longed to be. The man had a distinguished moustache sprinkled with a bit of gray. He slept with an expression of contentment that Todd despised.

The man's chest was thick and hairy. His belly was round as a snowball. He was shorter than her and looked to be at least ten years older. He slept on his side, facing her, one of his arms resting against her back. He breathed noisily, but didn't quite snore. Katie had said she could never be attracted to a guy who was overweight, and yet here she was, sharing her bed with a fleshy, older man. Todd felt more than a little satisfaction in seeing she had settled for a man whose physical appearance was so far beneath his own.

He wondered what she saw in him. He wondered if she gave to this man what she withheld from him.

What did this man have that Todd did not? Was this the strong, authoritative man she wanted? Was this man a bastion of common sense and positive decision-making? Did weaklings cringe at his approach and women swoon in the presence of his effortless charm? It was hard For Todd to imagine. He looked pudgy and old.

Then Todd noticed the lavishness of the house in which he now stood, and it became clear to him. Katie was successful in her career, but far from rich. The house belonged to the man. She must be with him only for his money. This thought relieved him. He had feared she had truly loved him and was glad to find a likely alternative.

And yet, he was disappointed in Katie. He had not thought she would be so shallow to accept a man merely for the material things he could give to her. She had always said she was searching for The One. The One who could bring her Happiness. The One in whom she could pour all her withheld love upon without hesitation or apprehension. Todd was not The One. He could not be The One no matter how desperately he craved the title. He was just Another One she must go through along the way. His love was inconsequential, his devotion meaningless. He might as well have been a sixth grader in love with the homecoming queen. She thought he was cute in his way, but certainly not to be taken seriously.

Todd took an unconscious step toward the man so that he stood directly over him. The knife in his grasp hovered above the man's heart. The man stirred a bit in his sleep but did not wake. He felt a twinge of anger swirl within him. In life, he had been patient and restrained. As he stood over this man, he sensed that the emotions of his ghostly persona would not be so easily contained.

But he was more curious than angry. Todd wished to comprehend Katie's motivations in lying next to this man. He did not wish to speculate any longer. Without any conscious intention, Todd's spirit invaded him and the man groaned, but still did not wake.

His name was Stanley. He had inherited his money from his father. He was a free-spirited playboy who owned a yacht and took it out at every opportunity. Katie loved his yacht as much as Stanley did. He taught her to sail and she learned quickly and eagerly. It was a shared passion between them that served to fortify their relationship. Stanley liked motorcycles too. He owned a vintage Harley and Katie loved to ride with him.

He was not a paragon of authority at all. He was easy-going and gregarious. He had three ex-wives but no children. He managed to have civil relations with all of his exes and none were above having an occasional tryst with him. But in the six months he had been involved with Katie, he had resisted advances from two of his ex-wives and another woman with whom he had had a long acquaintance with as well. For Stanley, this was an unparalleled state of commitment. Stanley had never worked a real job in his entire life. Why work if I don't have to? That was his motto.

Stanley knew that Katie loved him with her whole heart. He knew she considered him The One. He was her Holy Grail. He appreciated this and loved her back.

In his mind was a prominent memory of Katie clinging to his waist as he drove his Harley into the sunset. The road was long, winding, and empty. They had ridden all day and he loved the feel of her body against his back. He had wanted her since the ride began that morning and knew he wouldn't have to wait much longer. It was in that moment just before the last rays of the sun dipped below the horizon in front of him, when he realized he was in love with her.

Todd could see it was a sacred memory in Stanley's mind. He had wanted to hate the man. But he didn't. He saw that Stanley was an affable guy who he might have liked under different circumstances. But he could not like a man who had what he so desperately wanted.

He pulled away from Stanley's mind and stood above him once more. He raged with jealousy and squeezed the hilt of the knife, restraining himself with only the utmost effort.

He turned his attention to Katie. She still slept soundly, her breathing peaceful and regular. He studied her. She was not a classic beauty, but very slender, and full of life. She had long dark hair that she grew long and straight. Her features were sharp and defined. She’d once told Todd she was one eighth Native American, and he could see it in the slimness of her body. But he loved her imperfections as well as her personality. She was often irreverent and downright cynical at times although she certainly lived with a zest for life.

She was partial to death-metal rock and graphic B-grade slasher movies, but also kind and compassionate. She loved dogs, dolphins and children and could be moved to tears by old couples holding hands. Katie was an enigma. That's why he loved her, but she belonged to Stanley now. Their relationship ran deep. Todd could read it in their minds and hearts as they slept. She would not leave him as she left Todd. Stanley was far more significant to her. She was devoted to him.

Todd turned the knife with his ghostly fingers. He knew what would happen in the morning. The two of them would live another day of their lives together, basking in their relationship. Meanwhile, Todd would be dead. He thought of how he had wasted away, his motivation forever lost after she had left. Meanwhile, Katie had been busy living her life to the fullest.

Stanley won her unconditional love with hardly an ounce of effort while Todd had poured out his soul to her only to be cast thoughtlessly aside. Todd had no family to speak of. His mother and father were dead. He and his sister hardly spoke. Katie had been his lamp in the darkness. He had thought she would aid him in his endless but futile effort to exist in the harsh world that overwhelmed his senses every day. But instead, she deserted him to be with a flabby old man. Rage coursed through him like lightning. He tried to fight it for a futile moment, but his phantom self had no defense for the dark emotion that filled him.

He entered Katie's body.

She cried out in her sleep as his cold spirit invaded her soul. He questioned her, demanding answers.

"Why?" He begged of her. "Why couldn't you return my love? How could you cast me aside with hardly a second thought? Couldn't you see all that I would have given to you? How could you choose such a man as this over me?"

Todd grew wary of asking questions with no answers. Then he howled inside of her with all of the fury and anguish he had pinned within himself since the night she left him.

The walls of Stanley’s house shook as if struck by an earthquake. Furniture crashed to the floor. Lamps and vases shattered. Stanley woke when he was thrown to the floor. Todd watched him through Katie’s eyes as he quivered with fear to see his love thrashing about the bed as limp as a rag doll, sobbed, and pounding her fist into the mattress. He watched him watching her in paralyzed fear, unable to lift a finger to help her.

Then Todd forced himself to be still. He turned Katie’s head to face her new love, and croaked a deep, guttural, evil noise. He watched Stanley wet himself to see the sight of someone else’s eyes staring at him with hatred through Katie’s body.

"You bastard," he said to him in his own voice. "She loves you. She never loved me. Tell me why!"

He lifted her arm and showed Stanley the knife with his own blood still congealed on its blade. For a long moment, Stanley could not speak, but somehow he found his voice before Todd could stab him to death as he longed to do.

"Because I am me," he whispered. "And you were you...whoever you were."

Todd hated the answer, but recognized its truth. He wanted to stab the man a thousand times. He wanted him to go to the same dark place from which Todd had come. He wanted Stanley to know his pain. He wanted him to understand the depth of his heartbreak.

But Katie loved him. That was the knowledge that stayed Todd's hand. As he stared through Katie's eyes at this flabby, frightened, graying man, he knew he could take but one course of action.

He must leave them. He must return to that black void of nothingness. He must move on.

But he would not go gracefully.

He shot forth from Katie's body into Stanley's paunchy stomach with such force that his breath was driven from his lungs. The man lay wide-eyed on the floor wheezing for breath as Todd left them.

He flew through the window from which he had come into the cold, clear night. He rose higher and higher until Katie's city was a blur of lights below him. He regarded it for one final time, picturing her face in his mind. Then he closed his phantom eyes.

*******************

When he opened them again, he found himself in the void once more. But now his soul was no longer heavy with anger or sodden by apathy. He no longer held the knife. He felt light and free. For a long time he floated through the tunnel of the void, expecting nothing, wanting no one, his mind as empty as the void itself.

He saw a light ahead of him. He held onto his emptiness and let the light come to him without anticipation. It grew closer and brighter until it enveloped him. A sense of joy overcame him. The light was warm and welcome. He had all of eternity to bask in its glory.

****************************

It took a week for Katie and Stanley to repair the house and a year to recover from the trauma that night had inflicted on them both. Neither of them ever spoke aloud of what happened that night. Katie kept the knife in a plastic bag and stored it in the bottom of her dresser drawer. She knew whose blood was stained on its blade. She knew who possessed her that night. The day after, she dialed Todd's number to discover it disconnected. Three days later, she called his sister's house and was not surprised to learn of his death.

She mourned for him, but not for too long. Then she moved on.