The Trickster Diaries/Chapter 58
I quickly lost all energy for my film after the trouble with Mike. He knew how to kill. He enjoyed killing. But he loved watching the light go out of your eyes even more.
I was able to make 70 DVDs before my computer, then 7 years old, went haywire and refused to cooperate. Hardly mattered. There was a smattering of early sales through the website, then nothing.
Months later the DOR consented to purchase a new computer for me but the digital video editing software failed to recognize the movie files created on the old, dead Mac. I no longer cared. It was over. All eight film festivals I submitted to sent back letters of rejection.
There was no beat to the next seven years. Just this slow, throbbing bass in sleep drive; a faint, muted alley cat trumpet at 3AM; a droning, underwater noise like ancient metal cracking loose from a submerged spacecraft.
Straight up, Captain, I’d say to myself, (eels gliding by my spacesuit bubbled head, looking for a way in), was it pilot error? guidance system malfunction? gravity? electro magnetism? solar wind? or did something or someone shoot this motherfucker down?
Didn’t matter, really. What mattered was that I was good to my cats; paid the bills; saw my ophthalmologist regularly. That I ran, sometimes; did yoga, sometimes; enjoyed a Mediterranean diet, usually. That I stayed caught up on Netfilx TV—Inspector Lewis, Mad Men, Longmire, so on. That I bought the discounted 10 ride bus passes for seniors and disabled people.
I kept the house clean and was down to a 12 pack per month. Purely a financial decision, I assure you.
Still made art. Still listened to Dharma talks online.
Jan went back to Norway in 2010. Jones moved to Paris, spent some time in Thailand and Cambodia, a few years in D.C., then moved back here.
Never saw or heard from Candy, Allison or Greg ever again.
On July 17, 2011, I suddenly couldn’t breathe. Rushed to hospital. They fixed me. Follow up diagnosis: emphysema.
Dreams of abandoning everything, wandering off into high desert wilderness where I seem to recall feeling happiest.
But then—just then—one lovely fall morning in 2014…