Irwin woke up back in his bed with a slight fog. Nothing too bad, just a little noticeable. And the second he got up and rubbed his eyes, his phone rang: “Hello?”
“Irwin, how goes it?” It was his boss.
“How do you always manage to call me right when I wake up?”
“We’ve been working together for three years; I know your schedule.”
“Uh, I feel like some lines have been blurred.”
She cleared her throat and continued, “You haven’t sent your report or update in a few days, that’s why I’m calling.”
“…Um, the case has been stalled.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“We are doing investigation, just… waiting.”
She leaned back in her chair, and Irwin could hear the leather move. A loud, and drawn-out sigh escaped her, and she said, “Okay! That’s perfect! That’s fine! I’m hanging up now.”
“Alright—“
Click.
What a child, Irwin said aloud in his head. He rubbed his hands down his face, and shot up. Irwin shuffled to cook breakfast in his tiny motel room, with the dim lights. Though fifteen minutes later, he found himself sitting outside, devouring a plate of eggs.
He lit a cigarette and sipped his tea, when the phone rang again. “You? Again?”
“Yes. Me again. But, uh, I got something for you.”
“Shouldn’t this be my day off?”
“Irwin, your time off is after the case is finished. Now—there’s a temple downtown, you hear of that before?”
Irwin nodded, as if she could see him. “Yeah, I do. You want me to go there?”
“Yessss—precisely, Irwin. Go there.”
“…Why?”
“I can’t tell you that. And it’s not a request, it’s an order.”
Irwin pulled the phone away from his head, and sighed. He took another drag, and brought the phone back. “Sounds great. I’ll go there.”
Over head, crows perched.
* * *
Basically, the temple was this beautiful Buddhist cottage. From what little Irwin gathered, it was a niche offshoot of another sect. I still remember walking through it’s walls. There was always this gut-feeling of something being off. It was as if reality had just paused, and you were now standing outside the lines.
There was a tiny river running through the entire property. Even from inside, you’d hear the water running. The grass was just fake turf, but it looked like a softer football field. You’d run your fingers across it, and feel the fake-dampness.
And then there was the fact that red, brick walls contained the entire thing. It made the building feel just a tad-bit out of place.
And just outside the back door, Irwin stood.
“Oh, hey there.” A woman said, peeking her head out the door. “I’ve never seen you before. Who are you?”
She was older, maybe early fifties, and had a short haircut. Irwin bet that she’d belong in a feminist rally. “I’m just here to visit.” He said, with a soft smile.
“Well, then come on in!” She cried out. “Our meditation is just about to start!”
Irwin walked through and took a seat. The woman grabbed a small book off the shelf and waddled over to Irwin, flipping the pages. “Do you want to hear how it works? Or do you know already?”
Irwin shook his head. “I don’t.”
She sat down, and began flipping pages. There were circular patterns of sprawling lines and psychedelic dots. Underneath them were notes about breath, and the stance of the body. Irwin even saw an outline of a soul.
“The way we meditate—as this book describes, is closing our eyes and following a five-six-eight breathing strategy. Around twelve minutes in, you’ll start seeing dots. At eighteen, you’ll see spirals. And then at thirty, you will see fractals.”
“Fractals?” Irwin asked.
“Yes, fractals. They have an infinite amount of sides, and you keep zooming in, and it’ll just repeat.”
“And why is this place so fixated on them?”
In the silence of her pause, Irwin caught a glimpse of just how quiet it was. The only sound was a faint sound of water pouring. “It’s because they represent samsara.”
“S-samsara? I’ve heard of that. It’s what we’re trapped in.”
“Right, because God wanted a playground for himself.”
“Can I meditate here?”
The lady smiled and she paused for another second. “Well, of course you can. You can do it right now, if you wish.”
Irwin nodded, and stood up. He walked down to the door, and saw a person sprawled out on the floor, meditating. She wore black yoga-pants and a black shirt. Her hair was black.
He grabbed a cushion from the shelf, and placed it down in the corner. Away from people. He closed his eyes, breathed in, and the fog slowly cleared. Methodically, a silence was created. Along the way, little thoughts would pop up. Memories. Imaginings. Irwin didn’t quite know what to do, other than try to focus on the silence. Though, with that focus, the silence would disappear. Then he’d hear the water.
Irwin opened his eyes and stared around the room. He felt fainter, and smaller. Everything had a glow around it, and a strange sense of relaxation.
Finally, his eyes landed on the picture of a woman, placed in the middle of the room. She was elderly, and had a beautiful smile. Her hair was white. And Irwin noticed her eyes were slightly yellow.
* * *
AND NOW, A BRIEF PAUSE AFTER SOMETHING HEAVY
Attention everybody,
The needle is now in.
My brain is an offshoot of video-game dialogue.
There’s yellow-haze about this serene room,
And then it is white.
Ø
I need to cut my dirt-ridden nails.
They pick and they bite.
Over the clouds,
That is where I am softly floating,
In a spool of rose-budded yarn.
In this lullaby dream,
In this lullaby dream,
Lullaby dream.
* * *
Irwin left the building feeling weird. Like the floor was subtly shaking. There was also this sense of unease, draped around his shoulder. It blanketed him like a hug with a six-inch blade. He was tired.
With nothing to do, he drove twenty miles out of town, and sat in a circle of dirt. He rubbed his eyes, and stared straight ahead at the mountains. He had seen a herd of cows go by, and he watched them with sacred awe. There were even some cute calves too. They picked at the grass, and stared at the vehicle. And together they sat there, and lived.
He sat in his car and blinked, trying to wake up. He breathed, and felt the soft exhale. Reality was escaping right out of his nose. And as he sat there, the music low, his thoughts went adrift. He could almost hear them—their faint whispering. Who had the man not called? What else was there to do? I’d really like a banana.
And then he thought of it: Gabriel.
Somehow, he had forgotten that name. The chubby, brown face. Or how his hands were always wet. The original interview had not been concluded, and now was the time to end it. Irwin drove back into town, in meditative silence.
He found himself outside the trailer, parked on the dirt path. He stepped outside and walked up to the door, rapping his fist against the screen. “Gabe!”
He was quick to get to the door. And Irwin watched a sigh roll over Gabriel’s face. “Come inside…” He said, dejectedly.
Irwin took a seat, and wedged himself in between the T.V. and couch. The screen was so bright it hurt. And the channel had been changed to nothing but static. It was a single-bedroom trailer. “So, who’d you buy the mask for?”
Gabriel let out hot steam and crumbled, slightly. “I already told you! Someone gave it to me, and I took it to school to scare someone!”
“August 7th.” Irwin said.
Gabriel blinked and looked at Irwin like he was drinking isopropyl alcohol. “Dude! I don’t know that date! I didn’t buy the fuckin’ mask!”
An alarm suddenly rang inside Irwin’s gut, and he stood up. Gabriel was innocent, that was clear. “Alright,” He said, “I believe you. I’m leaving.”
Gabriel slunk back down against the wall, and breathed. “Thank you.”
Irwin walked out the door, and left it slightly cracked. The air became connected to the room.
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