THE AMERICAN DREAM (An Original Short Story - Part 3 of 4)

Michael asked quietly, in a tone that wasn’t quite a whisper, “What is the hardest part for you now?

“Of course, there was the loss of my family, which broke my heart. Then there was also the shame of losing everything I’d worked for but the most difficult part was knowing I had nowhere to go. This was such a strange feeling and it filled me with so much anxiety. It took me months to relax enough to even get a good night’s sleep but after eight years I’ve learned to come to terms with it. Now this feels normal. I’ve realized the life most people are living is not natural. It’s simply not the way life was meant to be. Michael, I’ve realized that most of society has been conditioned to be nothing but consuming, money making robots. The most difficult thing now is also the most beneficial for me. Out here in the woods, there are no laurels to rest on, you’re staring your demons in the face every waking second so you’re forced to deal with them. This is tough and, I think, it’s what drives most people to suicide or to madness and I came very close to both.”

Michael looked shaken by Jeremy’s words, as if they touched his soul and peeled away its many layers, exposing his greatest fear. He asked his next question desperately as a drowning man gasps for breath, “What was it that saved you Jeremy?”

A look of peace washed across Jeremy’s face as he finished the last bite of his sub, crumpled the wrapper up into a tight ball and held it in his hand, “My savior came to me.”

“Oh, you mean Jesus?” asked Michael.

“Not exactly. Well, I guess not directly anyway. “Jeremy said as he sat up and leaned in just inches from Michael’s face. “Did you feel the presence out there in the woods?” he said pointing towards the door.

Michael nodded in agreement and backed a few inches away..

“You bet I did. What is it?” He asked.

Jeremy paused and placed the second sandwich on his lap. “Well, I’d been homeless for a few months and took my last twenty dollars and bought a bottle of Jameson. I stumbled into these woods with the intention of drinking myself into oblivion.”

Tears began to stream down Jeremy’s face as he continued.

“I had downed half the bottle, sitting out there in the dark in horrible, drunken misery when my savior came to me. He looked then just as he does now, he hasn’t aged a bit in eight years.”

Michael was beginning to wonder if Jeremy hadn’t indeed succumbed to madness.

Jeremy’s eyes took on an ethereal glow as he reminisced, “Through this whiskey haze I remember opening my eyes an seeing these old shoes with duct tape looped around them. My eyes began to focus and I looked up to see a thin, toothless Asian man dressed in rags. It was like he came out of nowhere. Honestly, he scared the hell out of me at first. Something about this man’s eyes left me speechless. His eyes were so humble and kind, they sparkled with so much pure happiness it was almost like there was a fire lit behind them. He didn’t speak a word but just held out his hand. This exact moment for me was a revelation. No words were spoken but this stranger who had nothing was standing there offering me something so rare and priceless, his total acceptance and unconditional friendship.”

"I think I may have caught a glimpse of him at the edge of the woods.” Michael said

"Yep, that was probably him. I have no idea what his name is, he never utters a word, he just smiles but we manage to communicate just the same. We look out for each other. He sometimes scratches pictures and Asian characters in the dirt...mostly pictures of tanks and artillery. My best guess is that, in his former life, he was a Vietnamese refugee who has seen God only knows what horrors. He's taught me everything I know, the least among them is survival. He delivered me from my misery, from the land of the lost. Now I am truly free."

“Hey, do you think we could get him on video?" asked Michael.

A look of fury suddenly flashed across Jeremy’s face. He sprung up and before Michael knew it he found himself pinned violently against the inside of the RV wall.

“Who the hell do you think you are? Don’t you think he’s been through enough already? He’s too pure to be subjected to this!” Jeremy said through his tightly clenched teeth.

Michael was confused, breathing heavily, and in a complete state of shock. “Oh my God, I’m sorry, man, I didn’t mean to offend. Please forgive me.”

Jeremy stared him with his chest heaving up and down for what seemed to Michael like an eternity. Jeremy then loosened his grip, turned, and began walking for the RV door.

“Wait, please don’t leave yet! Will you please just sit down and answer a few more questions. I'll give you the rest of the food I have.” Michael pleaded.

Jeremy stood at the door with his hand resting on the knob for a moment and sighed deeply. He turned around and reluctantly took a seat.

With the camera still rolling he looked deep into Jeremy’s eyes and asked, "Do you think you might ever want to give the world another chance?"

Jeremy didn't even pause to reflect before he answered straight to the camera, "Hell no! Not the world you’re from. Michael, let me tell you, when you've been away from it like I have and your mind is clear you can see it so plainly. That world out there is way too far gone; it is nothing but a fragile house of cards. When it folds it will only be people like me who survive."

To be continued...(installment 4 of The American Dream is coming soon.)

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Did you miss installments 1 & 2 of The American Dream? If so click below to read them:

https://steemit.com/story/@ericvancewalton/the-american-dream-an-original-short-story-part-1-of-4

https://steemit.com/story/@ericvancewalton/the-american-dream-an-original-short-story-part-2-of-4

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