by
Madison Dezelsky
The vending machine was on the fritz
again. It happened every month or so. A tall chubby man stood observing it,
stoic and passive as the metal food box regurgitated futile bursts of
impotence. His name was Edward Gonzalez, the man who couldn't feel. Situated
before the glass face of the vending machine, he contemplated his reflection.
He almost pitied the machine and the vision of himself in the glass. He would
have pitied them both, if he could feel pity at all. “It wasn't the vending
machine’s fault anyway,” he thought to himself as he stared into the glass pane
that separated him and his salted peanuts. It was the fault of the
underdeveloped human brain that made the thing. The machine continued to burp
and sputter. It reminded him of his cubicle desk buddy. He always stumbled on
his words when explaining to a client the mistakes of his superiors. The
machine was compromised by the limits of its creator, just like everyone else,
and as a result, Edward would not eat salted peanuts at 1:45pm in the office
breakroom, like he had almost every day for the last year. It was cheese
cracker sandwiches before that. It would still be cheese cracker sandwiches had
not the front desk secretary decided to discontinue their restock. Edward felt
something like nostalgia for the cheese cracker sandwiches, but without feeling
anything at all.
Edward was still staring into the
glassy pane of the useless contraption when the staff meeting came to a close
and the doors opened. Men and women spilled out of the conference room in a
blur of black and white. They exited with haste. Out of Edward's periphery,
they looked like water being spewed out of a hose at high pressure. The flood
of people dispersed and frothed. Complaints about management and comments about
where to eat for lunch sounded like bubbles bursting upon the surface. The
sounds grew nearer. Edward savored his last moments of stillness in the grey
plastic and mesh upholstered break room. He prepared himself for the inevitable
obligation to move, speak, and ultimately exist. He nodded his head in
acknowledgment of his fellow colleagues.
He felt no affection nor interest for
any of them. He didn't understand their habits nor mannerisms, but he imitated
them nonetheless for the sake of going unseen. If it were up to Edward, he
would sit on the back porch from dusk till dawn, motionless and unresponsive
until the end of his days. His girlfriend, Isabel, frequently had to remind him
the importance of having a job. "You have to do something with your
life" she would say, usually in the mornings to motivate his getting out
the door. Undecided about what required more effort, resisting his girlfriend
or going to work, he complied for the time being. He compensated by leaving the
staff meetings 5 minutes early every day to do nothing - absolutely nothing -
in the break room.
Edward hadn't felt much for a long
time. His human experience was reduced to neutral observations of daily life
and physical sensations. He still felt the cold and the heat of the seasons,
the strange stinging taste of metal when touched to the tongue. He felt Isabel’s
touch and his dog's fur against his hands. He detected the distinct textures of
cheese crackers and crunchy peanuts. But in regards to matters of the heart, he
was a hollow case, an echo chamber, a vacuum, a dried up well. Tenderness,
care, nor the slightest interest in others did he feel. Love was just a word,
which, in Edward's dry opinion, was excessive. It was a word invented to
describe the indescribable. Why invent a word that, from the onset, everyone
knew wouldn't be able to fulfill its purpose? It was beyond Edward.
"When did you sneak out? I didn't
even notice you'd left."
His alone time had officially been
breached. Brett, his cubicle partner, had taken a place beside Edward to make
small talk. Edward nodded his head and hummed in response. He was accustomed to
comments of this sort. Very few people noticed his comings and goings. Between
his colleagues, he was referred to as “The Phantom.” It was as if Edward lived
on the periphery of existence, just present enough to be perceived.
"Man, it’s been a rough day,"
continued his co-worker. "I'm beat."
This was a strange comment on behalf of
a man who always came to work optimistic. He hardly ever bothered others with
his personal concerns, family disputes, or complaints. But today, his flushed
cheeks looked dull, his red hair unkempt and he couldn't help himself from
sharing. Noticing his strange behavior, Edward managed a few words.
"What happened?"
"My daughter is in the hospital.
Jane, my wife is with her. I normally wouldn't have come to work, but her
condition is stable now and I figure the hospital bill isn't going to pay
itself."
After a long sigh he continued.
"They say she's got some sort of immune disorder. It’s wild. One day she's
fine and the next she's got a high fever and trouble walking. You really never
know, do you, what's going to happen."
"I'm sorry..." Edward said,
emphasizing specific tones so that it didn't come out sounding sarcastic, as it
often did when he tried to express empathy.
His colleague’s body heaved with every
breath, revealing the heavy emotional load that burdened his heart. His eyes
winced with pain but he managed a smile as he looked into Edward's eyes and
said, "You know the funny thing, I've never felt so much love. I think
love is going to kill me one of these days," and turned to leave.
Edward recognized the profound content
of the words intellectually but not emotionally. He remained still for few
moments after the encounter, waiting for a feeling to come; compassion,
remorse, sadness, or even happiness would have been welcomed. Anything at all!
The clock struck 2pm and nothing came. He gave up on the effort and the lunch
time snack and returned to work. After Edward had closed the door, the vending
machine gave one last heave of its metal gut and coughed out the bag of salted
peanuts.
Sitting back down at his desk, he
wondered when the feeling would return. There once was a time when feeling
pervaded his life. He remember being a happy child, and a loving, enthusiastic
young man. Then, as if his heart had slowly drifted to sleep, the feelings
gradually drifted away. Now, he spent most of his life in a dead trance. But,
every once and a while, the feelings would come back. They would come back like
fierce wild fire, seeking reconciliation for all the years kept inside. It was
as if the entire range of human emotion had bottled up in his chest, like an
atomic bomb waiting to be triggered. And when that bomb went off, it was a
warzone Edward's body. A fight for liberation that pumped like buffalo
stampedes through his blood. A fight for life that threatened to kill. At these
times, when the heart aches would come full on, Edward felt alive. Yes it was
painful, but it was the only thing he could feel. For him, it was the only time
he really lived.
It was for these irregular sentimental
attacks that Edward continued living his otherwise empty existence. He had
experienced them since he was a child. They would come on without warning and
last for hours at a time when he was small. They came less frequently now, and
for shorter periods of time now that he had aged. Sometimes there were dry
spells that would last months at a time. Edward was in the midst of one such
dry spell. It had been one year since the last time he had felt anything and he
was beginning to wonder if he would ever feel again. He woke up every day
hoping to be graced by the pain once more. He was wondering when the pain would
strike again as he walked to his car at the end of the day. Out of the left
corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of Brett at the far end of the parking
lot. He was wiping his eyes in the front seat of his car. Edward felt nothing. Nothing.
"Is this it then?" His
thoughts continued on in the car ride home. "Have I officially lost it
all? All joy, all sadness, all fury? Perhaps it time to finally kick the bin,
check out on aisle four, pay up the bill and say goodnight?"
Heat waves patterned the highway,
creating perpendicular streaks. The effect looked like liquid air. Advancing at
the speed limit perfectly situated between lines, Edward let the world zoom by.
Thoughts of suicide guided him into a trance state. It was within the void of
the trance that a feeling passed through his consciousness; a plea or a prayer
to feel again and for an instant, Edward felt desperate. Wildly desperate. The
feeling was interrupted, however, by a glass shattering impact. Without
realizing it, Edward had gradually driven off the road and collided into an old
oak tree.
The car alarm rang loudly. Howling
filled Edward’s ears and brought him out of the daze. Once having gathered his
hands and cleared his vision, he pulled the keys out of the ignition. The alarm
ceased to sound but the howl kept on. Using his side body and all his weight,
Edward shoved the driver's seat door open and staggered out the car. Trails of
smoke stretched over the scene. Beyond the fog, Edward made out a black,
ambiguous shape laid across the ground.
Edward took a few steps forward to find
himself standing above a grey wolf. Her fur was smooth, flowing in a beautiful
grain across her fragile body. Her body, filled with pulsing life-force only
moments before, was now limp and vulnerable. She was dying. Heat emanated from her skeleton. Her fierce
eyes confronting the abrupt encounter with death, transformed from quick and
panicked to sedated calm. Edward could almost see her eyes glaze over like a
curtain. He was witnessing the end of a life, and it was something his mind
couldn't fully comprehend. He tentatively reached out to touch her. He felt her
steady pulse in her neck and as he caressed her, the pain in his chest he had
long been missing returned. With a yearning it came back, ready to engulf his
lungs and heart in its contracting muscles. It strained his breath and blurred
his vision. His palms sweat and his vision narrowed. Along with all the
emotions and memories, it also reeled an acute sense of fear.
Muscles tense, heart aggressively
pulsing, blood jet streaming through veins, breath short and eyes wide. The
world around him began to synchronize to the throb of his throat. Vibrant
colors overwhelmed his vision. Light engulfed him. The sensation was wild.
Inhuman. Impersonal. Transcendental. He felt his skin being torn away from his
bones, every cell decomposing into the air and recomposing as the green grass,
tall oak trees, and the dying wolf before him.
Visceral memories of his wild days as a
child flooded in. Toes submerged in mud, the smell of his mother's skin. Other
memories came as well. Memories of creation, of plant life, animals, and space.
He remembered the heat of the earth at the beginning of its formation.
Particles travelling at the speed of light. Fire, water, air, and earth uniting
to create oceans, mountains, and deserts. He saw in his mind’s eye the birth of
the wolves. The heat of their bodies during long winters. The chase of the hunt
to survive. The tenderness between cubs and the vulnerable encounters with
humankind. He remembered his co-worker, Brett, and began to cry for his
daughter as he recalled the sensation of his own mother's skin and the breadth
of his father's arms. Visions of love, life, and death streamed through him, roaring
like a river at the commencement of spring.
It was the memories of love that caused
the greatest suffering. The ripped at his interior, ferocious and unrelenting.
Edward panted and scratched at his chest. He yelled and sweat, grit his teeth
against the threat of dying. That is what it felt like. Like the memory of love
would kill him.
The slight shift of fur against his
thigh distracted him for a moment. Upon opening his eyes he was met with the
gaze of the wolf. His heart still ached within his chest, but he felt relief
when looking into the animal’s eyes. Her vision was turning inward, towards the
soul, towards the heart of creation. The softness in her gaze she reflected
back to him soothed his pain. It told a story of creation and the unity of all
things. It projected love upon the world around her, surrounding Edward with a
sense of peace. She moved her head to rest upon his knee and surrendered her
weight, her energy, her entire life. With her last sigh, Edward felt her life
being imparted onto him. What was before pain in his chest steadily transformed
into a feeling of joy, wholeness, serenity. Edward closed his eyes and let his
body collapse softly onto the earth.
The two remained there, relaxed against
each other under an old oak tree. An hour passed before someone noticed the
wreck on the side of the road. They found Edward and the wolf in a serene
sleep, side by side. An ambulance was immediately called and the locals and
passerbys began to crowd the scene. The E.M.Ts managed to retrieve Edward from
his unconscious state and lift him into the ambulance. The wolf was covered in
a cloth by a young couple that took it upon themselves to bury her. Edward woke
up in the hospital a few hours later. His girlfriend was seated by his side,
her hand clasping his tightly. He thought she looked beautiful and he began to
cry. He felt so much at once, all the feelings of nature, of life. And there
was only one way to describe it. “I love you,” he said, as he would every day
for the rest of his life.
