(Part I)

I raise my head and see the beast arc across the sky, wings slicing the air, a toxic plume flowing from within it. I close my eyes and run to its origin, arms out front, waving, guiding me through the stalks. Arm, arm, leg, face, arm, foot, the last impact sends me to the ground. Scrapes and bruises, scrapes and bruises. This is nothing. This is nothing. 

Quick, while the point of direction is still seared within your mind, quick.  I get to my feet and continue running until I no longer sense the presence of the field and I open my eyes and see the barn, the house, and my father. 

Zeus. Odin. Jesus.

Equally kind as he is cruel and vengeful, depending on the whim of the weather and his choice of drink.

Bearded one-eyed son of a bitch.

The sun is setting—orange, red, golden—and the shadows cast across his face, obscuring both his eye and the patch. Faceless. And yet I can tell he’s scowling. Bourbon.

“Paul!”

I try not to wince.

“Hey Dad…Tim up dusting?”

“I told you a hundred times not to wander in that goddamn field.”

My face compresses.

“I know. Sorry.”

“Look like shit.”

The pain suddenly sears through my limbs to my brain.

“I fell.”

“Well go clean up. There’s a guy here to see you. From the university.”

“But I—”

“Don’t you think I didn’t tell him! He’s in the living room. Your sister’s keeping an eye on him. Just go. Got to watch Tim in case he goes and kills himself.”

“Okay.”

I use the side door so I can slink into the bathroom undetected, doing my best to avoid the creaks in the floorboards and eavesdrop as I traverse the hallway. Muffled echoes. Static. Rising and falling without clarity.

I shut the door behind me and flick on the light. And then, standing before the sink, my hands clenched around its porcelain edges, I start into the mirror and see myself as I am seen. My eyes are blue and I see them as pieces of a complex puzzle.  External. Round. Sparking.

The running water is cold and will take too long to warm up so I take the wet coldness and slap it across my face and wash the field from my skin. The water clings to it and the dirt and crawls downward until it reaches the precipice and plummets, free fall, to its end. My eyes are closed. The scent of earth fades. The world fades. I fade. I can hear my heart beat.

In this moment I can see the lights flicker in the back of my eyelids. The stars and the moon. My lips vibrate.

And then it all slips away and I open my eyes and see myself as myself. I dry my face and hands and walk out the door and into the living room where a man in a suit sits, briefcase on the coffee table, my sister standing and making a face.

“Hey Lisa can you give us a moment.”

She says nothing but makes a noise and leaves.

The man stands and extends his hand. I reciprocate and sit.

“Hi, so my father says—”

“Hi Paul, I’m Lucius. Lucius Stern.”

“Why are you here? My dad said you were from the university, but you should know that I withdrew my application.”

“Yes. I am aware. If you would let me ask you a few questions, however, just a moment of your time, it would be greatly appreciated.”

Silence.

“Excellent. So, Paul, first things first. Why did you withdraw your application? Why did you withdraw your application and remain here?”

He gestures widely and the sunset engulfs his frame.