Marc and Alana take a rideMarc has been in a state of depression for weeks. Alana played Bauhaus, The Cure, Depeche Mode and the Smiths to cheer him up. Yes, that music is some of the most depressing on Earth. But it helped those two. It helped Anat, too.

The place where he grew up is going away. The site with the Woodsman is going away. The land will still be there. But it may not fully be under their control. The spineless people who operate fell into a pit. They’ve never been the brightest. But the got even dumber. They’ve been this way all Marc’s life. His fadder, who went there, too warned Marc about them. His leader did the same. So did many others.

Marc and Alana were flying up there in her Infiniti. The Ramones were cranking. The boys from Forest Hills played an extraordinary role in his summer camp. We all know how Jen and Anat were enemies in camp. Later, they became friends. Jen will even attend Anat’s wedding. Yes, Marc and Alana discussed their wedding. Discussed was all they did. They laughed about walking down the aisle.

Alana pulled into the muddy parking lot. The gate was up. They decided to hike to Marc’s precious grounds. The grounds where he grew up, where he met his leader. Where he first heard the tales of and finally met the Woodsman. Marc knew it was all going away. He was shaking during his hike up.

Since they couldn’t drive up, he knew they would have to pass several buildings he spent time with him. The office was gone. He felt bad. But didn’t weep. He only went there to pick up the mail. He walked by where the dining should be. He saw an empty plot of land and chips of wood all over. A cabin or two that we used for handicrafts and other activities was not too far away. No more. Gone.

The shower house, which he rarely used, was nearby. No, he wasn’t a dirtbag. Marc showered in the more private single stall shower on his hill. He would do so at about 1 in the morning. He always showered in the dark. Sometimes the water heater that they housed from another site worked. Sometimes the shower was ice cold. He didn’t care. His eyes looked toward where the shower house would be. Gone. Tears were starting to form in his eyes. He supposed the site where a famous staff member who rocked in the dining hall and used to play with his little guy in was gone. He guessed the DNA evidence was bulldozed down.

They approached his hill. Alana was holding his hand. She knew his was a wreck. She started kissing him. She pulled out her iPhone and cranked “Pulling Mussels from the Shell,” which went into “I Wanna Be Sedated” and ended with “Come Together.” He got to the foot of hill. Sometimes he thought ty were fools on that hill.

He collapsed. His precious leanto was gone. He slept in it during his teen years. He and his leanto mate used to drink Genny Cream Ales in it. They ate Freihoffers cookies and ate sandwiches with red sauce from El Monaco’s. That restaurant has been gone for decades. His leanto mate loves to rest.

He couldn’t get up. When he did, he shot pomegranates, barley and honey everywhere. Alana stepped away. Marc continued like a mad man for over an hour. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t want to. But she started shooting him with wine. She thought she could harm him. She nailed him in the chest with an apple.
He ran toward her. He picked her up and held her. He was pure mush. Eventually, he put her down. They sat on the hallowed grounds where his leanto was. He was afraid to hike to the site of the tip-pan.

Originally published at http://mitchellthoughtsblog.wordpress.com on December 31, 2021.