Life by the Page 9
9
Needless to say the next couple of days were filled with work. Not the kind of work he had been used to for the past couple of months, forcing himself to put down on paper half assed ideas that made him feel sick, this was a different kind of work. His lines were filled with vivid color, inspiration that made him warmed him inside. There was life in each paragraph and with each page was born clarity and beauty. He wasn't stuck in his rut, his mind was free and so were all his worries. He was filled with ideas, so many in fact that he would lose sight of one the minute he thought of another. He tried as best he could to focus on a single idea he had, the one he had stolen from Nathan. He had taken it greedily without his consent, it was one of those feelings that he knew was not his own, it was a presence that helped him along. Leon was not a romantic writer by any means; in fact he usually looked down on any romantic interest in his characters as the center of a novel. This however was different, it felt real. Leon however did not shine or glow as his work did. His fur was matted, he had been wearing the same clothes for days, he ate very little, and worst of all he smelled of coffee and cigarettes. He didn't want to sleep so he slept very little. The only breaks he took were in his chair in front of the fire place where he would smoke to force himself to stop for at least a moment, his body needed rest but his mind was somewhere else the entire time. To work too hard would only put his ideas in danger. This wasn't the first time he had experienced inspiration like this. The last time something like this had happened to him he refused to take breaks. He would stay up day and night just writing, but like all good things, when mistreated, it came to a horrible end when he woke up one morning in a hospital. Martha had been there, standing over him. Holding his hand and she had told him everything would be alright.
Not even the thought of Martha slowed him down. If anything it only gave him comparison, contrast of what he wanted his character to be. Even though he was going through a bit of trouble with her, he still found it difficult to think of her that way. He felt ashamed, and to a point even angry about himself. He felt contentious and dirty to use her in his work that way. So when he would stop briefly to smoke or go out to buy more cigarettes (he had smoked three packs in one week) he would curse himself for being so unfair. It was getting his ninth day of non-stop writing when the phone rang again. It was an ominous and incessant tone that was so foreboding that he almost didn't want to get to answer it. It thrashed at his mind and forced him back into the real world. He knew who it was by instinct, but despite this feeling he answered anyway. The voice on the other end was strangely sweet. It wasn't seductive but rather earnest, a high and lovely tone that was focused, lovely, and talented. "Leon honey?"
"Yes?" Leon's voice cracked as he spoke from. It had been a few days since he had spoken with anyone and he coughed away from the mouthpiece to clear the dryness. "Im here...how are you?"
"Im fine dear...what about you? Are you sick? You don't sound well." Leon knew how he would answer, but the truth was he wasn't, and over the past few days he had come to terms with the fact that things weren't ok. Apart from his writing his mind dwindled on matters he had to that point almost ignored. He had reached a cusp of something he couldn't turn away from.
"No I'm fine. Just a little tired". Leon spoke smoothly and plainly, the words dropped dead on the other end of the line. Silence ensued for what seemed almost a full minute. The words stung Martha almost as if Leon had screamed them at her, he imagined himself doing so, his face contorting and his teeth gnashing at the mouth piece in hot anger and fury. He could feel something strange in that silence which he knew came from Martha at the other end. He was suddenly struck with guilt. His heart sank as he listened, hoping she would be the one to break the silence. He didn't know what to say.
"Honey" Leon was relieved when she finally spoke. Her voice was still sweet as ever, it had lost the professional tone that it had since she last spoke with him. "We haven't seen each other in a while...and I have some good news and I was just wondering..." there was a silence again; she seemed to be almost begging without quite having asked for anything from him, she was deliberate. She wanted to Leon to speak.
"You were wondering what hon?" Martha smiled at the other end of the line. He felt guilty for saying "hon".
"Well I wanted to go out and celebrate! Are you free later tonight?" Leon looked to the floor and rubbed his eye lids. He really was tired.
"That sounds nice hon, anywhere in particular?" She chuckled to herself lightly.
"I was thinking La Maison La? around eight." Whatever news she had it must have been very good. La Maison La? was their special place.
"That sounds good hon." He cleared his throat "I have to go now but I'll see you then ok?"
"Ok sweetie." She sounded very happy, so much so that it tore into Leon. "I love you."
"You too hon." Leon placed the phone back on the hook and stood very still staring at it for a while. His heart was in pain, severe pain. Never had he felt so torn up inside over something like dinner. But it wasn't just dinner, he knew that. The way he reasoned with himself made it seem like dinner but it was something deeper, more painful to deal with. When he hung up the phone he had made up his mind without really thinking, or needing to for that matter. The pain in his heart was something strange, it made him want to cry but he wouldn't the tears swelled behind his eyes, but they were trapped. It was like refusing a lover a kiss for no reason, then saying goodbye to take yourself far away. The pain spread to the bottom of his throat and his stomach like a lump occupying his mid section. He sat at his kitchen table just to breathe and let some time pass by. He hoped the pain would pass after a while, but he knew it wouldn't.