This is me. A Dragion's Lair Challenge: Puma Concolor
This is me. A Dragion's Lair Challenge:...
_ This is me. A Dragion's Lair Challenge: Puma Concolor _
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zCP_v1nutw4
This story comes very hard for me as I am, for the most part, a very privet person. But I am told to bare one's self is good for the soul, I certainly do hope so.... Please forgive and grammatical and spelling errors as this comes from my own hand and was not ran past my editor and mate. (Sorry Darkstar.)
***************************** In memory of Sweet Pea. ***********************************
I could hear him coming, clumsily up the well trod trail. This was the man, a reporter, who had contacted me about a human interest story. Normally I would have just dismissed the idea as just another attempt to discredit and ridicule the anthropomorphic race. To have fun at my expense, but this one struck my curiosity as he was from SoFurry.com, a fur based web site. I had agreed to an interview as long as it was on my terms, away from the studios and cameras. Here in my mountains there was no one to interrupt or skew the conversation. He had agreed and thus this meeting here on this lonely trail, high in the Rocky Mountains I love so much. As the sun was just setting I had started a small fire and had a pot of fresh coffee brewed, the aroma alone would have been an easy path to fallow.
He stumbled into camp and offered his hand in friendship, before setting down on the log I offered.
"Coffee?" I offered, after shaking his hand.
"Yes, Please. You must be Puma Concolor. I've heard stories about you." He said taking the cup I offered.
"All good I do hope?"
"Yes, remarkably so. My name is KiDra, I work for SoFurry . I want to thank you for this opportunity to get to know you the author. "
"You're welcome KiDra. Thou I am a bit confused, why would anybody be interested in an old Cougar like me, I'm nothing special?" I said settling back with my cup and trying to feel out what this person wanted from me.
"After reading your stories we, your readers and I, felt there was a story behind the characters portrayed. What I want to know is your history. Just who Puma Concolor is."
"My history huh. That should be easy enough. It all started in a land and a time far removed..."
"No, no. Not Puma, but you, the personality behind the character. The person who writes as Puma Concolor."
"Oh?" I said eyeing him over my coffee cup, "What makes you think there is another personality behind this one you see before you?"
"There has to be. There must be someone out there otherwise the paper would be blank, no life. And from what I've learned there is a person behind every story written. Your readers are curious as to just what yours is. Who are you Puma Concolor, who is the personality behind the personality?"
"So you're interested in 'the me' behind the me, huh?" I asked
"Yes."
After a bit of deliberation, and several sips of the hot brew in my cup, I answered, "You do realize I am a story teller, do you not?"
"I do."
"And you want to hear mine?"
"Yes. I very much want to."
After several more minutes and several more swallows I sat my cup down, setting up and looking the young man straight in the eyes started my story, "Very well, here is a story. You may take what truths you wish away, but here it is"
"Long ago, before there was anything as computers, internet, and 'furies' there was a young lad. He went to high school during the day and worked his step father's gas station at night. He was a wild thing, in his spare time he raced motorcycles and talked on radios to people far and wide. He was, and still is, a mischievous sort stopping just short of continuously getting into trouble but always pushing the limits. Always the gentleman, but always just a bit an imp."
"One late night a sweet young voice called him on the radio and introduced herself as Sweet Pea. They talked on into the wee hours of the morning almost every night but, due their shyness, remained just friendly voices in a small box on the shelf."
"This went on for several months. They became known as the local 'Radio Sweethearts' having never actually met until one fateful eve a mutual friend asked if he could put his car on the lift so he could look for an elusive rattle. Much to the lad's surprise his friend was accompanied by petite blond girl with huge green eyes. This was the girl behind the sweet angelic voice in the night, his first true love. They stayed fateful to each other for years, even living with each other much to his parents' distress, but they were eventually married and moved to the High Desert of northern Nevada."
"The Lad had a lot of experience in many fields, Electrical, Electronics, Mechanics, Carpentry and Plumbing. He even tried his hand at Emergency Medical, as the truck stop whence they lived and worked was rather remote and the closest ambulance took over an hour to respond. This even put him in favor of the Local law enforcement, as it reduced their responsibilities. Anyone who ever says being an EMT/First Responder is a glamorous occupation has never performed CPR on a drunk, or splinted a child's broken body. Nor have they had to calm a frantic mother whose baby had died in the night." I said as I brushed away the tear rolling down my cheek.
"The couple had always opened their hearts to others around them and helped as many in need as they could. Often at their own sacrifice and discomfort."
"It's not like they didn't have their indiscretions, it's hard to openly shear one's life with others and not have some transgressions. But it was always their love that keep them together."
"Early on they knew they could not have children of their own. They tried several times to adopt through each state they lived in but each time the state would find some self made error that would put them back at the beginning of the wait cycle, much to their frustration and expense. It was during this time they meet a young lady whom they had befriended and took into their home after her spouse had latterly kicked her and her two young boys out in the snow. Once the spouse demanded a divorce she found a new love who also abandoned her. Only this one left her with child."
"Knowing their plight at parenthood she researched all the legalities, obtained sole custody and offered the child to the couple for adoption. She stuck to her conviction even when a new love came into her life willing to take her and her children as his. Her only wish was to stay in touch and that the child knew her history and the love involved. It was a fair request and one that is still honored today."
"It was only a short 8 years later the girl discovered she had an ailment that threatened her very life. This was a devastating blow to the family, one they worked desperately to cure. A doctor promised he had a solution if not a cure. It involved a surgery to relieve pressure on her heart and lungs. It was one they jumped at but not without caution and a second opinion was obtained. With that approval the surgery was scheduled and a special bottle of wine ordered as the new millennium was to bring new life, new hope for the family. A last this was not to be. It would have been kinder if she would have died on the operating table, but after two failed attempts to repair the damage done by the first surgery, each ending in its own calamity of errors. It was only the fourth and last that stabilized her enough she could at least set up and get around via a wheelchair. There could be no more surgeries as her tattered body could not withstand another. She only lasted another four excruciating years, each year diminishing her further. "
I had to stop for a bit to allow my voice to settle and to swallow the lump before proceeding.
"Even at the end the Lad had to battle her family about telling her the truth. To put an end to the false hope they keep giving her. Early one morning he told her the truth, the real truth. There was no getting better and her future only held isolation and an ever increasing dependence on respirators. She took his hand and made him promise to care for their child and to find another to share his life with. She also asked him for the ultimate act of love. To turn off the life support and let her go. She was weary of the battle and longed for the rest. She said she would wait for him on the other side, but made him promise not to be in a hurry to get there. She knew him too well."
"That was seven long years ago. He still helps out those he can, when he can, though he does not ask for anything in return. Often in the back ground not drawing attention to himself. He prefers it that way. He writes for his own amusement, an escape if you will. His child is starting her own life now, quickly becoming more independent. He has a lady to keep him company and she sheds as much joy she can in his life. He holds tight to his memories, and promises. He grows tired, but he promised.... He endures..."
We sat quite for a long time in silence before I spoke again."So, What do you think about my little story KiDra?"
"That,,,, was interesting. So this is you?"
"You ask for the story behind the story, did you not?"
"So, is this the truth, and may I quote you?"
"I already stated you may take what truth you wish, it is yours to quote as you wish."
"So where do you go from here?" asked KiDra.
"Tomorrow is another day, I face them one at a time. But right now I think I could go for another cup of coffee. You?" reaching for his empty cup....
"So, is this the truth or not?"
"In truth, and it is truth what makes it so hard to tell....this... is.... me"
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It has been almost 2 1/2 years scene I wrote this. I find myself coming back to reread it from time to time thinking I need to remember, or sometimes thinking I should delete it and try to forget... I can't.
I heard a statement today that stuck home, it was "It is what we do , to save the ones we love.." I pondered on this and came back to reread this story again... I cried, I'm still crying. The holidays are so empty, no more birthday parties, no more anniversaries. I question myself. Did I save her from a life of living on machines? Or did I fail her by letting her go....
I made her a promise to see to it our daughter grew up and has a good life. I have done so, Our child is now in collage and with enough money to pay her way. She made me promise to not be in a hurry. I keep my promises, so even though the lady I did have left just over a year ago, I get up each morning, I go to work, I come back to my house to sleep each night. I try to set goals but I have difficulty in doing more than a month ahead. I made her a promise, and so I still endure. I only wonder how long I have to do so before alowed to be back in her arms and her in mine.
I do not write this journal seeking pity, but only as a release, a way to open the bottle and pour out some of the pain as it is a bitter wine. I made a promise, and so with tears, I still endure...
Puma