Friday, September 3, 2010

Jellyfish

He was the embodiment of the word “meticulous” and had been that way since he’d evacuated the womb, it not being up to his standard of cleanliness. His early days evaporated amidst tears of disgust about soiled linen, clip-on ties and the general lack of proper hygiene of the woman who forced him to suckle her. Thankfully things improved with time so that she became someone he learned to tolerate and finally adore.

She’d won him over so that he forgot her former sloppiness by teaching him the remedies for every kind of manmade stain. Mother was everything to him and he was her precious boy. Even after the departure of days spent enduring childhood taunts, collegiate stares and corporate whisperings, she had been his queen, and he had taken care of her until the day when all of her sentimental aspects had disappeared into dust.

Walking home had lost some of its purpose after that. Even so, there was always something to distract him, some odd thing out of place, some homeless person to scowl at or kick, though touching them made him feel unclean and full of self-disgust.

He cast stares made of stones, which he hurled with equal disdain at unfashionable patrons in corner cafes and fine dining establishments where he sought refuge from the unsightliness of city streets. But there was no escape because ugliness followed him like a shadow. Now he’d engineered a way to combat it and would work out his schemes until the world surrendered to his will. Someday, he surmised, people would rally to him and willingly stay by his side until he’d purified them with fire.

*************

He scanned the room surveying every imperfection and seething at each newfound discovery. A piece of lint glared up at him from an Oriental rug, but he did not attempt to retrieve it knowing that others watched his every move. He would focus on other things for now, like the jellyfish at the city aquarium that always transfixed him in their clean watery world. These floated by even as the lint on the rug haunted him. He closed his eyes as multitudes of them cascaded before him until the scent of ancient perfume summoned him back from the depths to the now.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“That pie I had yesterday was quite delicious. It almost tasted homemade. Just like my momma used to make…”

“Fine, you want pie. Any particular flavor or do you want me to surprise you?”

“Whatever you suggest. I trust you completely.”

A lady at another booth peered at him over her menu as he adjusted one of his cufflinks. He looked out the window of the restaurant watching the jellyfish and other sea life fill up the view. Ugliness disappeared into luminescence until nothing remained to remind him of unclean places or people except the sound of crying that reverberated into silence from high flying fish and sea creatures, leaving nothing for cadaver dogs to find.

16 comments:

  1. He is one twisted guy, that's for sure. But how poetically you describe him. And what a contrast between the earthy question of the waitress, "What do you want?" and his cleanliness-obsessed imaginings. Nice job.

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  2. Goodness. I know someone who has the same cleanliness phobia. Just lovely poetic prose describing this character's unusual world.

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  3. "He cast stares made of stones..." LOVE that line Rachel. In fact, the whole story. You have such a knack for showing us your characters with the perfect choice of words. As Marisa said, lovely poetic prose.

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  4. loved what they jellyfish represented to him in terms of purity & transparency

    marc nash

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  5. That ending is severe. Nothing left...

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  6. Soooo....I'm guessing nature? But his mother sounds like a crazy person, too. Cold, adjusting his cufflinks, waiting for the explosion. Nice touch in showing us just how neurotic he was. Awesome bit of writing.

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  7. Great job of putting us inside his twisted mind. I like how he waited for the sea creatures to take him along with the patrons of the restaurant. It's a very unique way to commit mass murder and suicide, and so clean. :)

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  8. An amazing, shocking piece that is beautifully written. I love the metaphors and you create such a complicated character in such few words.

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  9. This was one of your best. You really shine in this one. Poetic, discreet and grotesque at the same time. So many good phrases in this. This was a damn good piece.

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  10. I really enjoy your writing Rachel. You have such a beautiful way with words. Always a pleasure.

    This timid fellow seems to be a lone wolf amongst a mass of pacing jackals. He longs for love and caring, but no one offers that since his mother joined the great beyond. So, he plots to beautify the city as best he knows how. Yes, lives will be lost, but cleansing is never an easy pill the swallow. But with a bit of luck this will be remembered as a day when salt water and human tears mended a clear path towards some form of betterment.

    jkb

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  11. This disturbed fellow seems to have reached a way to deal with the 'unclean' society about him. It's interesting that in the end he viewe all outside the window as jelly in 'their clean watery world', similar to the cleanliness of the womb he had come from. Great job, Rachel.

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  12. I have nothing to add that hasn't been said already, Rachel, but I wanted to let you know that I really liked this story. For all the reasons mentioned above, I think it's one of the best I've read here so far, and you know I typically like your stories quite a bit.

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  13. Loved how you played with the language in this one. Quite a poetic piece. Good story!

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  14. I enjoyed this as well. He is a believable character. Creepiness exudes on this spotlight of his mind, and I wonder what will happen next?

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  15. I don't like the unwashed masses looking at me either. Well written.

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  16. Quite stunning imagery conveyed with superb language. Very poetic, like others have mentioned, and nicely bizarre. I love stories like this! :)

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