Faces of God, Winds of Jane

Where did it start? There was God. There was Jane. I was at my window. I was searching for something. There were reasons, for a while at least. Where did I travel? Dammit! Did I just dream it all.

It was before. I stared out of my window, and she was there. God took a highlighter and drew it over her. She was auraed in blue. She was in a book and in pen God wrote “home.”

I was tempted to jump out of the window. I needed to be near her immediately. People need reasons.

It was a windy day, but only for her. Her hair moved. It danced while the world was walking faceless and turned down in stale air. I don’t talk to them. They have expectations and speak a language I don’t understand. I remember the bruises on my stomach and hips. Later or my forehead and shoulders. My mom always said they don’t understand minds like mine.

She had a face and she had a glow. She was Jane.

I didn’t jump out the window, but I ran down the stairs. I ran down the stairs and was completely out of breath, and I didn’t know what to say and there she was. What could I do?

“Would you like half a peanut butter sandwich?” I asked her. I was eating lunch when I spotted her. It was lucky because that would have been strange if I had left it on the counter.

She smiled. She smiled and the air temperature dropped twenty degrees. It had been so hot. It wasn’t anymore, at least for a moment.

“Maybe next time. Can there be a next time?” Her voice. It was the mountains. It was fir trees with snow drizzles. It was cold water. It was Jane.

I saw the face of God in the night. It smiled and made the room cool. It was pleased and when I showed my gait It said I walked correctly. Injuries can occur, but my gait was currently proper. I wept from Its validation.

Time moved as it does at its speed. I was back at my window. She was no longer there, but I watched Jane’s hair blow in the wind that was only hers. No one else could touch it, but I felt the coolness in the moments. I had a reason. It refused to leave me and I was grateful. The world is such a hot place. I often cannot breathe. I was breathing.

Sleep was difficult. Sleep is difficult. I saw father. He died but still haunts my home. Why couldn’t I be a doctor? He was a doctor. My brother was a doctor. My brother was on the run from the IRS, but was a doctor for a while. That part mattered to father. My brother had dignity and could speak to people. He spoke their language. I like math. I like colors. Sometimes I can apply those things together for art. I can show people my language. Father hated art and called it frivolous. Father hated me too because I was not one who calls themself “doctor.”

Father spoke in tones that I couldn’t hear. I would slip away. I tried to be dignified and keep my hands steady. I once saw a mountain behind him and walked to its top. I was alone and it was beautiful. There was a burn on my cheeks and a heavy weight in my stomach, but I didn’t see them. I miss things sometimes. Sometimes I leave. I am my mother’s explorer.

Jane passed by again, but I didn’t have a sandwich. She was too early. I stood at the window for six hours. She came by and I was unprepared. I remembered to watch but not to make a peanut butter sandwich.

“What’s your name? You are amazing.” I shouted from my window.

“Hi! Jane. Where’s my half sandwich?” The wind blew up from the street. It was intoxicating. I couldn’t hold it, but I felt its ghost. The wind was only for her.

When I realized the finitude of her breeze the truth came to me. It shook me from inside the floor. “I can’t accommodate that today. I could give you a cold beverage! I have several of those and many varieties. The world is such a hot place.” I felt ashamed, but maybe I could make it right. Maybe she could see past it.

“Kinda needed that sandwich today.” Jane said with a little laugh, but I knew the truth. I made a huge mistake. I was ready for her. I was ready for the wind, and I was ready for her blue eyes and the way they would make me feel like I had to stop breathing, but I wasn’t ready to fulfill my promise. “Next time. I’m going to hold you to it.”

I saw the face of God in the sunset. It smiled at me with one face, but the smile was false. After a turn I saw nothing but fire. I was failing. It was displeased with my dignity. What is dignity? Why can’t I sleep? Maybe that is where my dignity is. A man once told me that sleep is where the best life lives. People talk about dignity in a way that would indicate it as a universal concept, but it is not properly defined. I hate their language. Is my best life in my sleep? Sleep is difficult.

I saw father again, but he did not speak. He just sat and stared. His eyes launched knives and they grazed my sides. I barely bled, but I felt him. I saw his face. I felt his cuts. I wept for an hour.

I saw my mother. Did I see her? I think she called me, and I think she said that I needed to find my place in the world. Disability and rent control might be surviving, but I could make the world better. “Don’t you want to make the world better?” More dignity. I don’t understand dignity. I felt more cuts, but I was with the fir trees and the snow. I couldn’t find dignity. I needed to find something. Anything. A reason. Sometimes I don’t know the reasons. A person needs reasons! I was pulled back. I didn’t want to come back. I was failing. I always failed. I will never stop failing. I wanted the trees, but they wouldn’t have me. A person needs reasons.

Jane came upstairs the next day. I promised her a sandwich. I promised her a cold beverage. I had them. I got that right! They were ready hours in advance, but I didn’t want them to be old, so I made them over every hour. She came upstairs, and I had just made one. I was no longer hungry. She said I could watch her eat.

She was beautiful, and she was someone who would speak to me. She said words that made me feel alone and the wind was in her voice as well as her hair. It was so peaceful. Her face was the mountain. I had moments. Moments in her dimples and in her nose. I imagined the inside of her nose and how perfect it must be. I could shrink and bring a sleeping bag and just be there. I saw her ocean blue eyes and could not speak. I had to look away. I could not breathe when I saw into them. They were seeing into her and the altitude overcame me, or was I drowning? It was too beautiful. It was too much. I had to look away.

I told her about math, and about colors and how they lived together in me. She told me about books and worlds that I wanted to see. She said she would come again. I believe that she did, but the next few weeks are distant. I traveled. That is what my mother likes to say. I am her explorer. Sometimes I am everywhere.

I saw the face of God in the moonlight. It was an ocean and I stopped breathing. I was so overwhelmed by the beauty of Its face. It smothered me. When I woke up I was forced to remove Its molecules from me. My apartment could not contain It. My body couldn’t keep Its presence. God’s touch always dissipates.

Why was mother concerned about my dignity? That isn’t her. I’m her explorer. I once saw the core of the earth, but I traveled inside of a large freezer. A man made me come home and said I could have died. I wanted to stay. I wanted to stay! I looked for the reasons. It was so hot, but also it was so beautiful. A place no one ever gets to see. Liquid fire that dances through its swirling colors. No one else can see that. Is my dignity in my journeys? They are only mine.

Did Jane require me to have dignity? I saw her eyes narrow. Was that why? I remember her eyes got narrow. She said that art needed consistency, or was it a heart? Or was it a house? Where did I go from there? I said I could give her art. I sometimes paint what I can’t see, but I stopped seeing her and only saw an open lake blanketed by thick fog from my rowboat. I don’t know what she said. I never heard it! I wasn’t there!

I don’t know what dignity is. Comportment. Honor. Respect. All abstracts. All arbitrary! People are not qualified to judge people! Why does father yell at me? Why am I stuck with his ghost?! I’m not a doctor. I don’t have to be a doctor. I don’t have to be a doctor! When I fell out of my window, I was ten. I stopped caring about doctors. The world became cruel. I stopped sleeping, but I also was everywhere at once. I remember the bruises on my chin and chest. Later on my arms. Later on my feet. I can’t speak their language! Don’t talk to them! I don’t want to. I won’t.

I did talk to Jane. Her voice was the breeze. She was haloed with bright blue. The wind came only for her. The world is such a hot place. The wind belonged to her.

I did talk to Jane. She had a sandwich, a whole sandwich and the carbonated orange drink. She did furrow her brow and narrowed her eyes. What is dignity? What the hell is dignity?! Where did I go when her eyes narrowed? Why couldn’t I see her anymore? Why couldn’t I know? I don’t have to be a doctor!

I saw the face of God. It was He and He drank coffee but kept pouring bourbon in it. God called it “a kicker.” God said that Jane would be happier if I were a doctor and didn’t travel and had dignity. I don’t know how to do that. I don’t know what that means! Jane needed someone who didn’t travel and who spoke languages I don’t understand. She had the wind but wanted to lift someone who had their head down. My head wasn’t down or up. I don’t have the reasons. I never have the reasons. A person needs reasons! God told me to give up and just go.

I felt the cuts start, but had to go to the lake. No. It was cuts. They stole me back. I couldn’t find anything. I couldn’t stay in one place. Father screamed. I was stuck. I couldn’t stay with the mountain or the lake. “People need reasons! Where are your reasons?!” I don’t have to be a doctor! I tasted copper and my head throbbed. Jane can stay! Jane will stay! I don’t need dignity! She sees my art! She sees the colors and the math together and what it means. Where did I go? Why was I on the lake with the fog? What did she say? I wasn’t there! Father told me I was stupid and she was gone forever. No! No! No… No… no……

I don’t know how or where but then I was asleep. I cried in my sleep. I looked for God in the bathtub again, but he abandoned me too. I cried and I slept. I never slept, but I slept.

Mother called and told me that I was beautiful and that I shouldn’t trust Jane. The wind is for everyone, or it is for no one. Mother tried to show me in math, but Jane lives beyond math. If she spoke to Jane she would realize it. It didn’t matter whether I trusted Jane or not. Her eyes narrowed and I wasn’t there to hear her. Her brow furrowed and her eyes narrowed and she was gone.

I watched from my window for days. I watched as the ocean overtook the city. I watched as it became normal again. I swore everyone drowned and later they burned in the great fire, but they came back. God was always nicer to everyone else. I didn’t want dignity and I didn’t have reasons. I’m not a doctor. I didn’t have Jane. I never had Jane, but I could sleep in her ear if I closed my eyes just right, or was it her nose? That faded like everything else. Jane lived in books and I lived in this apartment. I want books, but I don’t like the way they talk.

She would not return. The air stayed stale for I think it was three years. God never came back either. I had three mice. I had sixty-eight spiders. I liked one of them who lived in my shower. I liked to call him Shippy because I imagined him folding up his legs and flying away. I wished I could get small enough to go away with him.

I saw the face of Jane. I needed to get something from mother, and she wouldn’t get out of the car. I had the bag and mother drove away. She was there. I was out of breath, but not like before. I couldn’t breathe, but I hadn’t run. The mountaintops of Jane’s brown eyes stole the air from my lungs. The radiance of her hair burned my skin.

“Jane, can I make you a sandwich? I have the peanut butter, and I have the carbonated orange juice.”

“I’m sorry, but you must be mistaken. My name is Katie. Are you OK?”

A person has to have reasons. What are my reasons?