when tomorrow never comes - scribed submission chap1_ memories and reflections

7/31/2019 WHEN TOMORROW NEVER COMES - Scribed Submission Chap1_ Memories and Reflections

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When

TomorrowNever

ComesWhen life and death become one season.

BY:

CHRISTOPHER

DAVID


2/17

MURPHY

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When Tomorrow Never ComesTable of Contents

Chapter 1 Memories and Reflection 6

Chapter 2 Our Family Portrait 18Chapter 3 A Family is Born 31Chapter 4 Our Time in the Gardens 44Chapter 5 When Times were Younger 62Chapter 6 The Treasures of My Early Life 73Chapter 7 I Say Goodbye to a Friend 90

Chapter 8 The Irish Grandmother 104Chapter 9 The Firehouse Gang 118Chapter 10 The Day I fell from Childhood 127Chapter 11 The Procession of Honor 146Chapter 12 I Begin to Grow Up 170Chapter 13 Im too Young to be a Chaperone 187

Chapter 14 The Years Go Quickly 201Chapter 15 The Mystery is Revealed 217Chapter 16 Fate can be Friend and Foe 230Chapter 17 Courtship and Union 254Chapter 18 Into the Dawn of Lights and Shadows 263Chapter 19 The Colors of Reality Show Like a Rainbow

276Chapter 20 The Portal Eye into Night 288Chapter 21 Into the Season of the Unknown 299Chapter 22 I Have a Dream 312

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Chapter 23 Out of the Eternal Springs of Hope 322Chapter 24 My Friend Calls for Me 334Chapter 25 The Serpent Strikes Again 349

Chapter 26 We Call Upon the Children 363Chapter 27 The Lost Birthday 377Chapter 28 Father, Please Come Home 387Chapter 29 The Long Journey of a Dream 397Chapter 30 A Season With My Brother 409Chapter 31 The Shadow in the Mirror 424

Chapter 32 I am Home Again 433Chapter 33 The Light Grows Dimmer Still 445Chapter 34 I am Visited by the Past 462Chapter 35 Friendships and a Story 478Chapter 36 One Final Dream 492Chapter 37 Into the World of Another Land 499

Chapter 38 A Promise Kept 521

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When Tomorrow Never Comes

Chapter 1

Memories and Reflection.

Life. With a bit of reflection, and with some time spent on thisroad, you can actually sense the memories like a shadow growing witheach passing day. You often revisit much of what you experience andpull about the most cherished events to reminisce on. It was myattempt to do such a thing. Reach back into my mind, find somehappiness there, and to relive the world from which I had come from.

Those clippings of time are but the moments we know most intimately;of a lost yesterday, that when they suddenly and most unexpectantlyre-appear, not as shadows, but as spots in your thoughts, you realize

just how much of a friend they really are to you. I would recall thehappier times, along with the emotions and the feelings that were likefine silk threads interwoven into those occasions; pieces of history; myhistory; moments in time; my time.

Anything can trigger a reflection. Voices that can echo withoutwarning from days gone by, and which huddle close to your everywaking thought. At any moment they might spring about and ask youto recall the long and seemingly still ghosts from your wind-blown past.

There, when something you hear is something you had heard fromlong ago. It moves you to remember. Do you hear it? Those whispers

and sounds buried in that endless treasure vault of experiences. Itawakes from what seems to be a dream buried within time itself.

In the most troubled times you find time to reflect; to ponder theworld as it was. Perhaps the smell of an ancient fragrance will guideyou there; or the whiff of some childhood candy you hadnt enjoyed inyears. But you remember, and only forget until that same memorycomes again to visit you; to say hello and remind you of what used tobe.

I thought I was too young for this; to reminisce, to think, toponder; to relive seemingly glory years that didnt seem so glorious

while living in them. But here they are with me; fragments, pieces oftreasures that are but a puzzle until you put them all together. I havealways been told trauma bears trial; and in trials, a person discoverswhat they are truly made of. It is like a rainbow of emotions; whereboth sorrow and joy were born and brought out to look like a distant,beautiful rainbow. In this case, distance would need to remove me

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from the present and eventually make it a part of my past. Then,perhaps then, I could reflect on this moment I am living under, and seesome scrap of joy that was produced.

It is true what they say of the heaviest showers. There is always amost beautiful rainbow after such a rain. Here, now, it was as if I were

looking within a brief scope into my past and to where that shower hadjust passed by, still having no clear explanation on it; no rainbow stillto be seen. I could not tell you precisely what it was, yet I observed alltheses senses for clues to place with me adequate reasoning for it all.

But to see the puzzle pieces to my life flashing before andthrough me, gave me pause to escape on those aimless winds. Theyappeared to have no direction or navigation in them. I lost myself fromthe present, seeing now those traveled worlds like a good tale toreview once more. Memories and Reflection - the particles of thatwhichmakes up the very essence of who I am, and who I have now

become.Now, I suppose this story has some virtue in its tale. How do I

know this? Well, there is virtual truth in the belly of it. And where thereis truth, then virtue is soon to follow like a good ending to a story. Itwas as if I had devoured life and all there had to be experienced, andwhen you come to some form of conclusion and resolution to what laysin that belly after all this, you know you have been well fed. It is true Ihave been most fortunate. A wondrous life, some would say. Butinevitably; unexpectant trials trip you up and over, and you suddenlyare in need of defining what the words hope and faith truly mean.

But here I sit. I am the silent inhabitant of an only island; mine.I could see the block, white screen stare empty back at me. The

sounds of a 38 mm film reel rotating and clipping against the agingprojector at a constant beat, softly snapping close to my left ear. Theweak, humming purr sound of that projector was playing a tune andrhythm of its own in that backdrop. I heard its echo swear at me withevery top-turn to its reel. I was alone and only companioned with mydaydreaming thoughts.

The room was vacated out now. I was sitting to myself, along withthose vagrant memories still keeping me with good company. The

screen never changed or altered. It stared back pure white as the flowof light expanded from the small cylinder lens of this projector andwidened until it nearly took up most of the back wall to this room. But Iswear, all the while, it was playing my entire life back to me.

Styrofoam cups were sparsed about. Some cleaned empty whileothers still held some of their drink at the bottom. My daughter Tyler

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had left her favorite doll propped upright in the small chair. I am sure itwas staring back at me; smiling, holding its short stumpy arms wideopen to me as if it wanted to embrace. I, too, needed a hug. My sonCory had also left some of his mementos about. Several of his armymen were displayed on the far table with no reason for their positions.

He still had yet to learn the true art to that playful warfare. I supposehe placed them about where he saw fit at that time.

I could smell the sweet aroma of pipe smoke drifting about thisroom and chalking the air with dust, wandering as freely as mythoughts were. My father Allen had only been puffing on his usualbrand just a few hours before. It always seemed to put him at easewhen he did so.

The lights about the room had long before grown dim. Yet I couldsense the pondering shadow of someone lurking from my rear,appearing to stretch in quiet observation of me. I knew who it was

however; it was Sandra. Her ways were always of soft measure. Shehad the charm to smooth out all the rough edges of the world and tosomehow make the rainbow appear on every occasion. This time wouldseem to be an impossible act of nature if she could perform the feat.

Idid not turn so suddenly, but feeling her head drop slightlyaround the doorframe; her frozen eyes, watching and staring over me.I could sense her presence as if it were as vivid as the dreams andmemories I was currently visiting on. It was a loving shadow that bentover me there, like a good guardian angel she was. Sandra possessedthe finest skill in timing. She was waiting, collecting herself, and then

announcing when the time was appropriate to do so.And what would my husband find so fascinating about a blank

screen? I heard her voice softly whisper from behind.I dont know, she knew the answer before I could say it, I

really dont know.I heard her steps draw near on me and I felt the gentle passing of

her arm around my shoulder as she bent to stare on my profile. Mysight remained constant to that empty screen.

A college-educated man; the top of his class. A brilliantrepresentative; a consummate husband, father, son staring silently,

absent-minded in the privacy of his own home; spending his eveninghours watching a blank wallwhat would the public think of this littleskeleton in his closet?

I could feel the breath of her smile as her expression turnedupward, though I remained on my fixation for just a spell.

Every man has his moments, I weakly proposed.

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And what is yours? she employed, turning her face in front ofmine.

Which one? I tried to smile, but it fell short.Your being very deliberate here maestro, she grinned.A man is not a man without mystery.

She frowned on this, held to her thoughts, then spoke, A manwith too much mystery seems to abandon those close to him, shepaused, You know Conner; Cory and Tyler are like tremors to yourevery earthquake. Dont put barriers up to them for them to see.

Theyre too young to get over these obstacles. They watch your everymove and they see how you are neglecting your relationship withthem, her face became slightly more drawn now.

It just takes time, I spoke, is all. But I hope they would neverthink that of metrying to keep them at a distance and all...

She paused for that moment, and in her usual wisdom, she

replied, I wont debate the things you already know. But just thinkabout what they are going through. Sometimes we just have to maskour emotions a little, to protect the children. They feel it most whenyou withdraw from them. And they are confused by it. Kids are neverblind because, in their small and bright world, we are the center totheir universesbut you know this.

I cant change any emotion thats honest.Im not asking you to, she smiled, just camoflauge them a

little and you will see a big change in your children. Its ok with me. Letme be your sole sounding board if you want. Im a big girl. But dont

take it out on the kids. She paused, Even if you dont mean toMy eyes captured hers in our looks, and I thought openly about

what she was saying. I bent over to console myself in that instance;finding a silent tear dropping from my cheek as I brushed my hair backfrom my eyes.

It just happened so fast; so suddenly. I had no way to preparefor it. I had no idea it would be this way, I could sense her arms lingeraround my shoulders and pull me close to her, Nor had I everimagined how it would be.

I cant tell you how to feel, she hugged me closer still, but feel

as you are, and how you are supposed to be.This has changed me, I quietly replied.I know, she responded, I suppose we are all finding out more

about ourselves in the end, we will know.Cody and Tyler arent the only ones confused.

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Dont lose yourself Conner, she returned, The way home isntso long. You just have to trust in your beginnings, and know what isright- dont lose sight of this.

We were both blessed with good parents, I remarked.The best, I could feel her smile start up against my cheek,

They say great parents in the morning make the sunset glow brighterfor us. And in the end, you will own more wisdom than you will everknow. But you have something else to attend to. Her expression cameacross more constant to me.

I curiously looked on her. I wondered what that might be.Your children, they are so young. Go to them. They have been

asking for you.I looked to her and I caught that blank screen out of my corner

stare. She was moving about the room as if this were her final speech,and that I knew exactly what to do from there. Sandra was right; I did

know what to do. She went about, collected the cups and plates round,and so gave them more attention than me. I stood, took her hand intomine, and made her pause for that time.

Not just the childrenI have a wife to attend to as well. Ireplied, and so caught the edge of her grin meeting with mine. Silencebroke on us, though we knew what I must do. It was time for me to seemy children before they fell asleep and went into their dreams.

I was hesitant and reluctant to do so, not knowing what to say; togive them ease and normal perceptions to live by. I had been stretchedaway from them for a bit. As if the circumstances had pulled our

relationships apart like a strained rubber band. Their room was soclose, but it felt like such a journey to get there. Those self-taughtemotions seemed to be playing havoc with my strong will. I knew whatlay ahead and I was hard-pressed to find the right words for them tolive by. I paused; Sandra smiled, then she gently pushed me free ofher; all the while she mouthed the word Go in a repeated fashion.

I traveled from room to room. The air felt quiet and as muchasleep as the night had seemingly become. Each room was empty andscarce but for the sound of my dress shoes clapping on the hardwoodsfloors. The stairs creaked and echoed out their wheeze as I went

cautiously up those flights of stairs. The banister likewise gave a littleas I leaned on it from step to step. There, to the end of the hallway, satmy childrens room. The door became slightly ajar but unmoved. Icould hear the rustle in their sheets as I came still closer.

I pushed the door free, saw the long shadows grow longer still. Iwatched them as they apparently slept quietly without a diversion,

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though I knew they were play-faking sleep this early in the night. Imoved to Corys bed first and I sat on the edge of his bed.

Hey, I wiggled him awake, and so he turned to see me, Howsyour tooth? I whispered as he grinned on me. I took to wiggle that top,front tooth, Still there. He nodded in agreement. Are you ready to

pull? He disapproved on this statement and I reacted with a smile. Ibrushed back his hair; felt the silence pass between us as we stared onone another for a moment. Such the likeness of me he was; thattemperamental way; the soft freckles of youth I once owned myself;the reaching-back dimples whenever I smiled, poised themselves aswell over his cheeks. I could see the memories of myself when I lookedon him, noting how reflection plays such a stare with me while we werefrozen in moments like this. Cory was my shadow and I knew this. Hisdisposition; his mannerisms; his boyish performances were as I was somany years before. As if he were walking down the same pathway that

I had first traveled on. Memories and Reflections- now came rushing onme like a past wind I once remembered, but I had so recentlyforgotten.

You know, we are only delaying the tooth fairy.. I suggestedwith a silly grin.

She can wait he fearfully proposed.She might forget, I further suggested by a sly grin.She wont, he smiled, nearly popping out that tooth when he

did so, She never forgets.If you say so I whispered. I brushing back his hair once more,

taking a move to wiggle that tooth back and forth myself, It seemsmighty ready...

Not yethe pulled his covers up to his chin as I leaned in onhim. I placed a kiss to his forehead and I sent back a seriousexpression like a shadow hovering over his bedposts.

You remember what happened to the last tooth?Yes, he shyly proposed.Then I think we should pull it I came again.Hell never let you pull his tooth dad I heard Tyler turn, rustle

about in her bed, and roll to face the both of us, Not me. Let dad pull

three of them, and I got three dollars to prove it, she said this withsuch an air of pride.

Will too! Cory lashed out.Will not! Tyler volleyed back.Will too!You havent before, she grinned on this.

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Cory, I shot a firm glance to him, Tyler, I did as much thesame to her, I am sure when the time comes I will be able to collectyour tooth for the tooth fairy. No need for arguments here for the sakeof arguingyou both still have a full head of teeth to lose, and willbecome more than well to do by it at the expense of the tooth fairy

herself, I eyed them both as they had grown more silent. They bothshot me the expression that somehow I was angered by their littlequarrel.

I paused. I made a sigh in hopes to defuse the situation and allowmyself to collect my thoughts to speak on further.

What chapter were we on? I said.Chapter 7, Cory cautiously remarked.Which book? I had forgotten.Dad? Tyler pleaded with me to remember.Oh yes, there was a pause, and it seemed to be sent my way,

Robinson Crusoe.No dad, Cory softly replied.Black Beauty... and by the look on their collective faces, I was

in error again, HeidiOliver TwistThe Call of the Wild? I could onlyventure then, and still be fiercely abandoned by my more usually keenmemory.

You used to never forget... Cory employed. I felt his wordssoftly pinch me with its most accurate accusation. I had failed themagain, and so I felt the most inept of our trio. To sense that thesemoments we shared; these very moments which held the utmost

meaning to them had failed to hold any relevance with me. That pausebrought me into shame and embarrassment in front of the very twolittle people who held me so in high regard and invincibility. I wonderedwhere the right words would come from. I was holding still, gazing butinto the reflective stares of their eyes while they were sitting, wantingme, hoping even still, that perhaps, if all were to go as it should, that Imay remember the book we had stopped on before. I thought for amoment as I tried to discover the magical title which would appeasethem so. I could not find it.

What can I say? I only mastered this phrase.

Huckleberry Finn Tyler spoke out, disappointed as she waswith me. I was so finding more failure within myself.

YesYes, I threw my finger into the air as if it had come to meonly a fraction of a moment after she had said so, and would havedarted back into my memory if she had not blurted it out to me so

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premature. My look found theirs to be so full in acrimony that perhaps Ihad lost them for a second Where were we in the story? I defused.

Huck was being chased by Pap with a knife... Cory said.And why was he doing this? I shot them a confused expression,

as though I had never thought of reading that section before.

Pap thought Huck was the Angel of Death, or something I sawthe despondent stare resonate from my daughters soft and engrossingeyes, which all but tore over me. I could sense that lump drive upwardsin my throat; my inner tears remained within. They couldnt see myown sorrow.

The gaping hole of silence in our conversation seemed tofrustrate them further; my lack of comfort; my inability to set thingsright and make the world as it was before; to somehow turn timebackwards and give back those dear things which were so recently lostto all of us.

Surely I would have been an awkward clockmaker. I believe Iwould have brought to heir the revolution of having the hours spincounterclockwise. But I suppose I would have been just as well thesmart clockmaker as a good father to these children now. It was true.Somehow I had lost my step along the pathway; turned a corner I wasnot meant to travel on. And in looking back and so seeing the ways Ishould have gone, I was in a struggle to redirect myself.

Sometimes life throws shadows in your way without the light toguide you by. Your hope is to discover the way as you see fit. Butsometimes, even in the most winter of times, there isnt enough light

to be sure on. Then, when the hour is most dim and the air the coldeststill, you just have to discover the way.

I saw their worried eyes; their most early precepts of childhoodwhere everything was to be of fancy and play. Nothing bad was totouch them in their lives, where security was as great as life itself. Thisinfant bubble had somehow burst by the pin of fate itself. And nowthey felt the world seemed as cold and dim as I did.

Tyler moved from her bed to sit most near to me, to see moreclosely the weakness in my own eyes. Cory leaned up, intently eyeingin me the same thing as Tyler did. I felt the weight of their stares

expose the very expressions I did not want them to see which socaused me to wilt under that pressure. The mask seemed not as strongas it did before. But I held to a sigh; looked away briefly until mydaughters soft voice caught me back again.

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How long will you be sad daddy? her five-year old voice nearlystruck the beat strings to my heart. I could not deny the sword in herwords, yet I still refrained from my weep and I kept it silent.

Only until the Spring dear, I whispered back. She placed withme a hug, and too, did Cory lean further until they both were within my

grasp. I squeezed both into a tight fit within my embrace. We heldeach other still there; time eclipsed and spun now on that samemoment as we locked into that comfort and embrace. We did not wantto let go, but let everything pass until we were all sure that everythingwould at least heal a little in that time we could share together.

We should attend to our reading tomorrow... can we?Huckleberry Finn? Cory hopefully said.Oh yesand while you are at school I will be sure to review the

first six chapters again, I smiled, In fact, I will become the bestexpert on it.

And the voices? Tyler chimed in.Of course, I replied, What is a story without voices?Not a good one Cory leaned back with arms placed over his

head. He stared back on the ceiling tiles like they were bright stars inthe night sky.

Then I will have to make good practice on different ones, Iplaced Tyler back into her bed.

I like it when you do an old man she giggled aloud.Like this??! I grew my face old, rolled my eyes in retreat,

gummed my lips over my teeth, and dried out my voice until it

sounded like the one who needed a long and deep glass of whiskey, Avarmint! A heathen!

You sound like the way Pap would sound, she giggled oncemore and she smiled broadly as she looked to me.

Pap I softly whispered that word through my lips and I sostared out into some unforeseen distance. As if my mind was venturingaway again; eyeing the prodigal notions of a son lost in his own history;poking that long scope in retreat into the way I had come. I could seemy own childhood as I peeped backwards like a good Tom, Pap Iused to call your grandpa that.

My words trailed off at the end of that sentence.Grandpa? Cory shot in.He was Pap to me I looked back onto Tylers shining face,

Youre a giggly goo one, arent you?And she laughed once more as I tickled her to clear it out of her

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What did he call you dad?Just Conner, I paused and winked a smile, But when he was

really angry with me, he used to call me Connnniiieee!There was a general roll-call of laughter which hit the room. I

looked back at the shimmering light and open door. I could see

Sandras shadow standing off in the distance; silent and motionless,staring into our audience to overhear what was going on between usthree.

Time for bed, I returned my attention their way, Butterfliesand bats need their rest too, I imposed a metaphor to each of them.

They drew snug in their beds. The soft, cupping blankets rolledback just underneath their chins. Their eyes were in a droop, andyawns consuming the full expressions in their faces. I could see thatthey had had a full day. The tiny-tot children closed their eyes, fell to aslumber, and so tumbled into some dream and sleep I could only

imagine. I left them as they were, but better still than before. Itseemed perhaps they would have good dreams rather than nightmaresnow, as long as Pap did not show up in them.

I had often heard Tyler crying in her sleep. When I went tocomfort her in those moments, the tears kept flowing even as sheawoke. They were so very long to dissipate. Tonight perhaps would bedifferent.

I drew the door closed and I stepped down the hallway whereSandra was leaning up against another doorway.

Good job Maestro, she smiled and grinned in the same

expressive way.Im just a natural, I said modestly.Six chapters she had to remind me, And all those voices.

You know Huckleberry has as many characters in it as words, shereminded me still further.

I can handle it, I said, I will just have to spawn some riverboatmagic, if you can do the female roles.

Oh no, she shook her head on it, Youre better at voicealterations than I am. This is your job.

Then she stopped, and her grin was replaced by a serious look.

Theyve missed thatmore than you know.As I have and I left her side.I knew Sandra would be gathering herself for bed soon as well. I

moved outside our old Boston home and I caught the early winter air inmy face. The ancient light shimmers in the wintertime there, and sothe cross-town streets were gleaming back on me when I would look

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out their way. The soft spray of headlights moved about the neareststreets like lightening bugs in search for new companionship. I couldhear the rain quietly pelt round the trees with a soft peddle thump, andsidewalks with the hoof beats of a tiny horse in a long and constanttrot. The air was cool; not biting, though I could see my smoking breath

rise up whenever I was exhaling into the night itself. I could see themist swirl about like a cotangent stew; muddle about, drift in sways,brighten every porch light up and down the street, and so drip from thedark sky. As if Heaven was softly weeping in her sleep. I looked upwardthrough the grand-perching trees in our long front yard. Clouds wereconstantly drifting to cover the glowing stars in that particularconstellation; and so as such, clouds moved in their stealth and unseenways. I saw the moon peek through for a glance, then drop out of sightonce again.

Times like these a person has to reflect on. The urgency of such a

time makes you see the world from a different angle altogether,though not self-imposed. I saw those memories loom like a bigspinning yarn in my mind again; of birth; of youth; of burgeoning age;of life in all its wonder. The scene I suppose called for such a thoughtas I had there.

I drifted further into the lawn and closer to the street edge.There, in the very midst was an old, entangled, grossly enlarged oaktree; as old as earth itself. One burly limb hung out longer than all therest; and there, as its big arm cast out along those grassy shores, itheld a heavy swing out from its base. I was sitting there, swinging to

and fro, watching the world about me seemingly move by mylocomotion, and my eyes falling into a dream. There, as was always inthe fancy of my imagination, I could alter the way of fate and bringback to life the days gone by.

Those sterling dreams; those memories of old; those employedreflections never grew old or appeared to fail me. There, the world wasperfect again and I knew it to be so.

I would see tomorrow for what it was; a new adventure strungfrom the collective pages of the past. Like a book only half-chartered. Aconnection and a bridge to what had become was so now affecting

what will be. Through turmoil; through joy; through grief, life will stillcommence by its own stage. Fear can drive one to resist what is justthere before us. Not me. I had seen that storm, and so knew its brashwind and its violent spray. I had survived, though not unchanged. Lifewill do that to you. Transform you; make you into the person of yourown destiny. Like an eagle still growing its wings; a deer still learning

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to prance about and run; as a kitten captivated by its own play; and asa person still evolving and discovering what life yet has to offer us.

I was once told there was a beautiful rainbow after every heavingrain. Perhaps this is true. But perhaps, even still, the beautiful rainbowcomes only after a long journey. It makes the walk seem nicer still

when you get there. I had cried my ocean of tears then; saw thebounty of my emotions roll and heave like that storm. Now it was timefor the rainbow to appear.

I stopped the swing there. Silence became more still than thedead empty space it resided in. I sat alone, eyes closed, and so I bentmy head into my chest while wondering when the rainbow wouldcome.

There was one last cry for me to go through; kind of like a briskshower that was never forecasted. But it came and I went through it,so giving sustenance to the flowerbed to my emotions. Someday the

world would seem brighter than that moment did.I felt a soft hand touching to the sides of my face, and then a

hovering cloud enveloped me. This stirred me to let the tears falluninhibited and I felt the touch turn into a full embrace. Sandra hadshadowed me. In this time of memories and of reflection, she tooshared her tears with mine. There was more rain that night than in theskies above, for Heaven was not alone in her sorrow. And as the cloudsabove softly pelted us with her dew, I felt Sandras warm heart take tocomfort me.

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when tomorrow never comes - scribed submission chap1_ memories and reflections

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