Terance Flight Watch
Karen Hallenbeck-Sikorsky-George BS,RN
December 5th, 2006
The chains bind, sear, cut deep (no more), and the last bus
Leaves the terminal, the Christmas lights are out of place, that day
Passed weeks ago, and a child stares past you (don't I exist) as
He clasps his mother's hand, she is too busy to watch if she knew
That you are (I am) a diseased vehicle, a Mack Truck let loose on
This world to spread my virus, (venom) to all who come close
To this healed but needle-pricked arm, awaiting that
First fix, the prison walls smell familiar, and huddled
Back inside, there is one memory of a man like you
(Me) who made it back alive, his sentence just a last
Good bye to the system he owes "time served" and he'll be home
A wife, three sons, a life ahead--a job, they forgave him (not you)
The smell of exhaust fills nostrils used to prison smells, old meat
Served on starchy sauces tainted with bacteria, the punishment
Just to be (me) an addict who stole a DVD, a year served again
Smiling he lights a cigarette, inhales deeply, going West, home
She'll be there, maybe angry, remorseful, telling me
"How it works if you work it" and first I'll do a bump or two
She'll let me in, she can, her guilt has nothing to do
With me, but sure this is LOVE, she's my wife
Stubs the half lit cigarette out, climbs inside, front row seat
Props his head comfortably next to a grandmother going to
Austin to spend the New Year, smiles as he shows her a
Picture of (my son, and this is my wife) she smiles and says
"She's pretty son take good care of her" and I want to laugh
Tell her "no maam she'll be taking care of me" and later the
Sounds of rustling newspaper and cold air as the
Door swings open, passengers leave and exit and
New ones enter, five hours passed (already closer)
The last leg of the journey begins, his seat mate
Squeezes his hand and says "God bless you and listen to Him"
Slowly makes her way through the aisle too small to fit
Her girth, and the smell of home made cookies follows her
A tear falls from a place inside (I can't feel not now) and restless
He stands (I do), stretches (I will), paces (I can't), and sits
Back down on that hard worn seat, the snow falls, a winter storm...
The town is dark, air is bitter ice, the wind blows in from the
East and whips around corners, bites its victims, at 70 mph
The large bus sways and pulls into the South side Terminal
This ride takes almost (2) days but the rest served its purpose
Heading to the public toilet he washes, shaves, changes his
Shirt, pops change into the public phone "Hi Momma Bear I'm back"
She hangs up, does not give him a minute
Anger fills his face with red rage his own mother
A small voice says "how many times have you gone"
"It's not my fault God now don't go on me" and paces
The next call a disconnected number, being a junkie means no
Service, frequent changes, hell a phone is no loss a roof is and
That snarly fix is the only reason to BE HERE, after awhile and
The humming of the neon sign outside the door makes him
Frigid as he wraps his cheap prison jacket tight, and a man stops
Sees him, shakes his head and says "Luke, hey man what's up"
It's that guy from the program, he shakes his hand
"Just got out man what's going on" and to know this
Is it, his ticket, his ride across town, a way out of
This stinking terminal on the wrong side of Midland
The man knows and says "You need a ride, coffee first?"
He nods his head "that sounds good I'm light you catch me"
Big strong arms surround him, a bear hug, and he fights the
Heart that beats sober, and smiles "it's okay I been there too"
His truck is warm, they smoke in silence, and his eyes open
To view the sunrise clean, it is brilliant yellow, Denny's is there..
Two hours later, stomach full, calmer, less fear
"Can I drop you off I got to head to work?" and
He says "Yeh my wife should be home thanks"
The man opens his mouth to speak, then silence
That ride across town, wind stops, and the temperature rises
Snow lays on the sidewalks, waiting to melt in temperate noon
The apartments different, changed, but he points to the building
His friend waits knowing the result, and he runs up the stairs
Knocks, waits, and knocks again, smiling nervously at the truck
The couple shake their heads, they have lived there six months...
She senses the day different, surrounds herself with busy work
Cleaning the kitchen, taking the dogs out, one load of laundry
No urge to go to the bank, the grocery store, or down to
Baton Rouge later for her meeting, but she is chairing tonight
"No choice is there" and her legs grow strong, she is slowly
Forgetting the last year of torture, illness, despair, and
Drops to her knees again, to thank the Lord
For putting her back home, for giving her the
Forgiveness in a man she loves that she knew
She did not deserve, the grace of life, beauty abounds
"A new year 2007" she speaks to no one, and the older dog
Wags her tail, it is just a matter of time where her coppery
Beige fur will be no more, she has outlived her time, and
Serious fatal illness, but he would not let this child go, he
Loved her as unconditionally as he "loved me" she thought
"Good old girl good old Hidis" she speaks, and big Guy
Wants some love too, and she scratches is head
Remembering the day she lifted him from the sewer
Thinking he was old enough, his dam left him to live
Or die, and he came home, and stayed "unlike me"
The cell phone rings a West Texas number "who is it" and
She lets it go to voice mail, shaking her head, this is home
That life is gone, past, the death that was sucking her to the
Proverbial abyss "let go" and ended, she starts the car and
The warm day soothes her, for her eyes are clear, and her
Mind at peace, and later the phone rings again, the same call
"Hello" and it's a friend from the program a man
With twenty plus years, and her expression does
Not change and her words simple "I divorced him"
The man is kind, knows, but tells her in honesty
"He is seeking you anyhow he can stay with me" and relief
Is clear as she replies "be careful he is HIV positive, heroin"
He knows, she feels foolish but also knows to protect those
Who love her, who make the effort to give back what they
Are freely given, "yes thank you and you can call again"
He had given the man her number, not called himself, good...
Much later, after a hard day at work, the obsession
Bites, money in his pocket, that beat up old Ford pickup
Keys in his pocket, a roof he can hang in till kicked out
He sees a friend, the packet trembles in his hand or is it
His hand that trembles, the rig falls to the pavement
One time, again it falls, the packet slips, and the powder
Spills, does not matter, he pulls up, knocks on the door
"Hey man hit me again here" and hands over that green
Wad of cash, the black man glares and turns to the wall
Returns, pulls the trigger and fires, he's gone, at peace
Finally dead, "you mother fucker" don't come to my house.."
The bus pulls out, he is headed east, west, below the grace...
