"Make Way" Part Eight: Look Above and Listen for the Moon Serenade

The lonely you is the real you.

"Make Way" Part Eight: Look Above and Listen for the Moon Serenade

"You still love him?"

"Yes."

"Do you wish you didn't?"

Nalani was standing on wet grass, the leaves from the trees had already made their swaying drop. This is her favorite season, in a way, this is somewhat of the "redeeming" season. What does that mean?

Well, according to the great Dr. Marlo Ulyesse, back in '77 — the fall has been said to be the season in which all the lashes of coolness and scorching heat come to a balanced ease of comfortable atmospheric pressure. Marlo Ulyesse was somewhat of a suited hippie, so in his scientific prognosis of the fall weather, he also said it is the season in which all has been considered and forgiven, but never forgotten. Redemption was a major factor in his somewhat short, yet engaging life. The leaves fall in warm colors, the trees stand naked to the calming breeze, and air is fresh. We've endured a blazing coldness and then endured pouring rain, to only end up sweating by walking a block under the sun. It could be compared to a bumpy relationship — the two parties in the relationship are cold to one another, then it gets hot and steamy with a dash of high stake arguments, to the tears and days of remorse. But then comes the time when both parties find a way to bond, well — or one decides it is time to hatch all of their losses and wins and let it be a memory.

"Dude, you're so — like, right on, Doc," said Misty Pfieffer, the golden hair hippie who was sucking on Marlo's micro sized penis. The man had a way with words, let's just say that. He explained all of this to her, while he was snorting coke off his golden tray given to him from his ex-wife, Fiona Smiley.

So Nalani felt the fall was the time when every thing would ease, and Earth, itself — reveals itself for its true colors. Nature is dominant, the crowning scent of gusting winds and orange colored plants were like drugs for the better soul. Her friend was standing beside her when he asked if she still loved Bray.

"Of course I still love him, you idiot," she thought to herself.

It was the second question he asked in which she did not answer, nor even try to consider. She walked down a steep hill, which led to an old, abandoned iron railroad. Nalani was by herself, she wanted it this way — her friend was too busy making observations about his own way of cooking a mean mac 'n' cheese, bacon sandwich.

He was high, she was kind of high, and everyone else they were also with was high. It was a full moon, it was up and about, but from Nalani's perspective it was standing just 20 feet above. She walked the long abandoned railroad, wearing black jeans, with a black Basquiat shirt as her top. The name was written in white marker, with the drawing of Basquiat's eyes, sad eyes — kind of like hers.

A few things came to her mind. The two weeks off she'll have from work, and what she's planning to do during those two weeks. Finishing her movie about her mother, of course. Reading some more, working out and eating healthier. Seeing her friends, and going for nice quiet walks like this one. She thought about avocado spread over rye toast, just after her other thoughts.

At the diner, she was sitting by herself and she looked over to the jukebox behind her. It's been used for over 30 years, but still played well. Some song by the Temptations was playing, she didn't know which. A plate of avocado spread over rye toast and home fries was looking right up at her, and she was eating slowly.

"I have anxiety. I get nervous over things, a lot of things, and I overthink a lot. I've got my problems. I told you something, about how I can't help but get this way — I'm sitting at work, looking at a screen, and then I feel this heat cornering me, all around. Time seems slower than it should be, I shake my legs, I look everywhere but the screen. I feel closed, and I have to go on my phone, see who's been posting stuff, then go on Facebook, and then try to find something to listen, too — but it just hasn't worked. Nothing. I feel anxious right now. I don't know why. I'm maybe worried about how things can turn out, in my life. I don't think I'm doing what I really want to do. I have people in my life who tell me what's the right thing or the wrong thing to do, but I don't even know what's right or wrong. I want something — I want something I probably shouldn't have or want, but why can't I if I want it? I'm so used to walking away when things get bad because I'm afraid of being someone I didn't think I could be when things do get bad, it amounts to something that makes me unlikable. I'm probably afraid of letting go... This is as good as it's gonna get for me? No, but I make myself think this way, sometimes. I'm telling you, right now, a bunch of things that probably doesn't amount to anything that makes sense."

Nalani said that to someone but she didn't remember who. She sat there, in the diner, teary eyed. Seconds later she began chuckling to herself, so many things happening... Debt, work, heart break, but also just trying to live a life. Why the fuck is life hard? Or not hard, but there's a time where things get really fucking hard. Small shit, big shit, a whole lot of shit, and then you're just left in this quiet moment, just you — yourself, experiencing what it is to experience.

She's 22 years old, owns two cats, loves her brother, unconditionally, and is afraid of loss.

She had a different a way with dealing with the fact she and Bray haven't spoken. In her room, she began painting, it was late but not late enough for the moon to descend. She'd forgotten for a moment about her world and everyone she knew.

Going outside again was for the sake of being able to breathe the season. The moon was still looking down and Nalani paid more attention, this time. The tomatoes in her garden blossomed in fruition, so did the raspberries and the Mentheae. May the wind cast your being, so it began with a walk around the yard, and then became a walk to the quiet block at Richmond Hill. Her eyes were more teary, and little daisies began jumping forward, following her. The cars parked in between her began honking with their alarm systems going off. The door fences for each house in between her began swaying open. The wind, it gusted to the direction of her back, pushing her forward. Her mother's voice was heard, but only to her... soothing in one ear, and like musical notes, got trapped by the right end of her ear. It was perfect, it was kind of mesmerizing.

She wasn't high, she wasn't dreaming and this wasn't a fantasy. The world was living at 2:30 AM. The season was meant to carry her, and she found herself standing aloof, on the corner of some street, where only one street light was standing.

Did this really happen?

If it did, what was Nalani getting over and what was she truly thinking? She wasn't thinking about anything, really.

She just couldn't get over how clear the Moon was, and how in the hell did everything around her move? She couldn't tell anyone this, could she?

If Doctor Marlo Ulyessi was still alive, hell, maybe she could tell him. If she knew him. Or she could tell her philosophy professor from college, yeah — that guy loves this kind of stuff.

1:36 PM the next day. She was sitting outside, earlier than usual for her lunch break. She thought for a while, she had just seen the Game of Thrones" season finale and needed to talk to someone who knew and appreciated the show as much as she did.

It was in an office space, Bray was sitting and listening to the head woman of the PA program for the Mayor's Office of Film. He accepted he wasn't getting any good work anytime, soon. He had no friend who was going to do him a solid and hook him up with a production gig (yeah, he's kind of still petty about it, but hey — when a friend says "I got you, man, you just gotta hit me up" and you do hit him up, but he never responds, but eventually brags about that gig he got, and how he hooked up a dude who doesn't even like him? Yeah, you can be a bit petty... Fuck you, dude).

So he sat there, and took it. Hey, it wasn't bad — it's still in the field, maybe he gets it, maybe he doesn't. But it was worth a shot. He didn't give up on the idea of making a living. It was hard, but who said having a life while trying to have a career in the entertainment business was easy?

He felt different, sort of. He was okay, at least. He didn't think of anyone, nor did he think about himself. He just listened to the woman, stared for a while, and felt numbness.

His phone rang. He put it on silent, and saw the name on the contact.

He didn't pick up, he just looked up and froze. He continued listening till the lecture was over and the interview had ended.

He went outside, walked back and forth. He was anxious, and began easing down just moments after looking out the window.

Bray returned the call. After five rings, the phone answered.

"Hello?"

"Hey."

"... hey, what's — what's up?"

"Did you see Game of Thrones?"

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Daniel Luis Ennab

Filmmaker based in Brooklyn. I like telling stories, it doesn't matter what kind of story I want to tell, I just want to tell one. 

For visual work and contact, you can go to my website: www.danielluisennab.com or Instagram: danielluisennab

See all posts by Daniel Luis Ennab