Frobisher pulled his jacket tight around him as he stepped into the night wind. He never liked cold, but he was used to it. Sailing was not often a warm past time.
His feelings about the day ranged from dismal to frustrated. He was easy going, but occasionally, just occasionally, he felt the sting of expectations unmet. Things weren’t going according to plan. He would be patient, though. After tonight, he knew he’d feel better.
For him, the problem lay in having to deal with emotions. He was a lot more comfortable going about the everyday things. Working on a construction site, playing after dark, eating good food. But, this feeling thing seemed to put him on edge.
J and he had been together for about a year. Nothing compelling really, but something he enjoyed. Now, she was after somebody else but wanted him too. He felt confused. And that was about all he felt, because he wasn’t used to paying attention to things like anger or hurt or even love.
• * * * * * *
Damn. He knew the planet had to be there. There were planets everywhere. He knew one had to be right there. THERE.Just three planets in from the first sun. Was it his equipment again? Atmospheric pollution. Some cosmic dust in his way.
He felt it was his destiny to locate and identify that planet. Not some other planet. Not some asteroid or moon. THE planet that he knew was THERE. He had felt it. Seen it in dreams, fantasized about it for years (well, a year and a half anyway) but as yet was unable to positively locate it and prove it was where he said it was.
Is it just part of life, he thought? Setting up obstacles and browbeating yourself into getting past them? He wasn’t sure, but he knew he didn’t like it. What’s being an astronomer about anyway?
Discovery, finding answers. He was determined, but clearly, today was not his day.
Hell, he decided, might as well go to bed.
* * * * * * *
Lucifer Christopherson….. (AH, NOW THERE’S A FAVORITE. HE DOESN’T
GET AS MUCH PUBLICITY AS THE OTHERS, BUT WHAT A GUY NEXT DOOR.)…..
was a mechanic. At least that was his great love, the rest of the time he worked in a Mexican food restaurant….. (Obviously, he didn't live in Mexico. OTHERWISE, IT’D JUST BE A LOCAL RESTAURANT. Sharp as a tack.)
….. He told himself not to be discouraged by the fact he was not working where he wanted to. (Here comes the kicker.) But, it gnawed at him. In fact, it torqued his buns. Often, it royally pissed him off.
That’s just were it rested with him. He knew he just had to wait. There was nothing for it but to wait until he could get enough money to go to school. Wait ‘til he got more experience. Wait ‘til he found a job or built up customers. Waiting and more waiting. He didn’t like it. He got angry, but he waited.
* * * * * * *
The storm clouds rolled in dumping rain and more rain. Sasifraz was angry. He created thunder and lightening. He crashed the breaking waves on bulkheads. He flooded storm sewers and rivers. He put himself in a black hole and systematically began pulling the world in with him.
He was not a patient man. (Was he really a man? WHO KNOWS.) He was not tolerant; even though, in good moods, his winds were gentle enough to caress a butterfly. He conceived of himself as all powerful. (A righteous god, you might say.) And, because he conceived himself as such, he was all powerful.
No one thought to argue with him. No one thought to dispute it. Even though he wasn’t particularly liked, no one thought to envy his position or do anything at all about his tantrums. It was easier to obey him. Sort of the path of least resistance with a little fear thrown in for good measure.
Sasifraz spend himself on his storm. Drenched the others where he could. (He liked to spread it around.) When he was done, the elements felt spent. The day felt new again.
* * * * * * *
(1986)
The adult me stood up and stretched. What a night. Hardly a drop of sleep and a work day. Off to do one’s duty, I left in plenty of time.