how to feel

The woman's skirt moved ever so slightly with the passing wind and her turn towards me. Her question left me dead in my tracks.

"Is this something that will fulfill you?" she insisted. Her pale skin and long brown hair reflected the sun's bright light.

I got closer and cupped my hand, waiting for her to return the flyer to me. She ignored me and kept giving me a waiting look.

I bit my bottom lip in annoyance. "What do you mean?" I asked, hand in front of her.

"You know what I mean." she said in a breathy, patient tone. The more I waited, the slower she spoke, as if to taunt me. "No one gets this kind of job because it's their passion."

She was acting odd, especially since I had never met her before. That wasn't something you'd ask someone you didn't know. "Well Lady." I said with a groan. "I'm kinda at a crossroads in my life right now. I don't know what to do with it."

I felt my point had come across well enough, needing no more explanation. After some time she handed the flyer back to me and I put it away. I hoped that was the end of it.

"It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishments the scroll." She said calmly, right before I was completely out of her sight.

I recognized this poem, I saw it in the book I read the previous night. "I am the master of my fate:

I am the captain of my soul." I said, finishing her recital of the poem.

She looked happy and surprised to see that I knew her quote and where it came from. "Ah, so you're familiar with 'Invictus'." I didn't know too many people who would be able to recite poems verbatim like she did.

I smiled with my pride and the hairs in my arm stood up at the fact that I felt smart. "William Henley wrote it." She grew even more impressed that I knew the poet. "Late 1800s, amputations, preserverence, et cetera, et cetera." I was just stating facts at this point.

She turned the other way, resuming her glance at the undending flowing river. "Are you the master of your own fate? Captain of your soul?" Her back being turned against me only pushed me further away, as if I wasnt worthy of even being in her presence.

I adjusted my bangs and pushed them towards the rest of my hair. "I don't even know what that would entail. So I guess I'm not, at least not yet."

She kneeled down and picked up a rogue rock that was on her side of the rails. She chucked it far and it plunked into the water. I couldn't see her face, but she chuckled mockingly as if she knew me better than I did myself. "Come back to me when you figure that out."

When I figure it out? Not even god knows when that would happen. I shrugged her words off and went on my way, not even saying bye to her.

With her undivided attention on the view of the bridge and not on me, I was sure I probably shouldn't take her words to heart. I rode back home and jumped into my room.

I pulled out a record from my collection and turned my vinyl player on. I set the needle at the start of the record and listened to the crackling before the music started.

It was classical music. The kind that I used to listen to when I studied and crammed before tests or for homework. My mother had bought me that record in hopes of inspiring me. It had the opposite effect, it deterred me from even trying to do anything music related.

No way would I ever be able to compete with those famous composers.

Mozart, Beethoven, Bach, and Tchaikovsky. Oh god, how I loved Tchaikovsky! Swan lake and The Nutcracker and 1812 overture. Who would even bother trying with that kind of competition?

I let my mind wander to the soothe music as I closed my eyes to take a nap. Hoping that the next day would be more clear to me and my life's Canon could could syphonize in melody.

That Saturday I dressed up for my first day of real work. I could tell my mom was counting the seconds until then, like she couldn't wait for me to get out of the house.

I couldn't blame her, either. I wanted to get out too. But I had no place to turn to. With a forced smile on my face I kissed my mom in the cheek.

"See you tonight mom." I said as warmly as I could. Trying my hardest to keep up the antics.

She nodded silently as the wrinkles on her forehead squinched together.

Once I arrived to the restaurant I hung up my jacket and waited for further directions at the bar. As I stood around others at the bar, the same scruffy bartender from the other day came to me with a drink in his hand.

He passed the glass to the guy standing next to me. He was wearing almost the exact some clothes he had on the other day. All with that same utility belt around his waist.

I wondered if he just always wore the same clothes around here. He greeted me casually.

"Welcome back! Glad to see ya' made it!" he said. Can't quite have money without a job. I wasn't going to flake on day one.

I greeted him back. "Yeah, I haven't been scared away just yet." I laughed it off. He followed my laughter with his own. Unlike me, he sounded genuine.

He pointed to a blue door that was at the corner. It had a sign on it.

'Employees Only'

"Go through there and put this on." He handed me a hairnet and an apron that was in a box under the counter. "Stevie should already be there waiting for you."

I took the ppe and stepped behind the employee door. Behind the door was a sight to behold. A cluttered kitchen with dishes laying around, pots and pans on top of each other in layers. Dishes and dirty utensil filled in piles next to the commercial, multi-gallon sink.

Looks like I had my work ahead of me. Ask and you shall recieve, they say. I looked over to the dishwashing area with all the dirty plates and saw Stevie, my new boss, putting the clean plates in bins for later use.

She was wearing an apron, stained with sauce and wine and all sorts of food. It was covering her pretty blue butterfly skirt underneath it. She caught wind of me and waved me over.

Before I reached her I slipped on the wet tile file and fell on my butt. I was unharmed, except for my ego. My face turned hot red with embarrassment.

I couldn't hear her taunting me with the loud noise inside the dish room and kitchen, but I could tell she was having a great time seeing me fail.

"Great start for me, huh?" I said sarcastically, seeing the fault in my not buying slip resistant shoes.

"Don't worry about it." she said encouragingly. She didn't want me to feel too bad on my first official work day. "You can use these. Trust me, you'll need it."

I put on the slip resistant shoes covers to avoid making a fool of myself again.

My hands clapped as I slapped them together in anticipation. "So, let's get started. How do I work this bad boy?"

The dish room area of the kitchen was divided to three sections. The first was for the dirty dishes to soak in warm soapy water. The second area had a sprayer and scrubber to disinfect and spray the dishes clean. The third and last section was for drying and restocking the dishes.

She explained to me the few steps there were to washing dishes. It wasn't hard to do. I understood why the job posting said 'No Experience Required'. It really lived up to that requirement.

She wished me good luck. "If you need me, I'll be on the other side assisting the line cooks."

I didn't know much about her, but I started to see the kind of person she was. It was clear by her actions. "Man, you sure work hard for being a business owner. Shouldn't you be watching at the sidelines?"

It was almost like I spoke another language to her. She gave me a humorously baffled look. "This is how I am and how I've always been, I like to stay busy." She pulled down her apron to center it to her body. "One day, maybe you'll understand."

Now, left to my own devices, I began my new dish washing journey. From four p.m. to ten p.m. I relentlessly washed away at all sorts of dirty trays, dishes and cooking utensils. It wasn't glamorous work, but it was satisfying.

Little by little, the pile of work dwindled until the night was over and my job was done. For the first time in a long time I had a sense of accomplishment. It was a feeling I welcomed with open arms.

The night flew by and before I knew it, it was time for me to go home. Before I left, I could see the cooking staff in the corner of my eye. They were patting each other in the back and celebrating another successful work day.

They had glasses of wine and cheered with a toast. That was my cue to head on out. No need to get too attached to people I had no interest in.

I punched out.

I sat on the bench, waiting for the bus to swift me away like a magic carpet ride. The lights lit up the dark city streets. People roamed and explored the city. Chatter filled the air, a cool breeze refreshed my tired self and the moon gave me a pretty sight to give me company.

That was when the same figure I witnessed the other day came into my vision, before the moon light. The girl from the bridge was once again in front of me, blocking my view.

I didn't know who she was, her name or anything about her. Other than she was an odd character.

I swiped away at her with my fingers, signaling for her to move out of the way.

She didn't budge. "So, do you understand now?"

I wanted her to leave, but she refused to do so. "Understand what?" I asked. "Are you asking if I've figured things out? Because if so, I haven't yet. I'm no closer to being the captain of my soul than I was before. Heck, I'm not even the shipmate of my own soul, let alone captain."

The girl took a seat next to me on the bench and rested one leg on top of the other, with her left heel facing me, almost jabbing my right leg with it. "Would you say you're an island?"

"An island? As in the poem by John Donne?" I chuckled to myself. "Are you always going to talk to me in cryptic phrases and quotes from famous poems?"

She stared up at the black sky, devoid of stars due to the city lights. "Do I bother you?"

"Yes."

"Well that was fast, you didn't even take any time to think about your response." She made a cutesy face, as if that would change my mind.

I looked down at my phone, hoping time would go by faster. Time ignored me and my plead. "I don't know what you're getting at, Lady." I said, hoping she would simply walk away.

She cleared her throat. "Nothing, it's nothing. Just trying to strike up a conversation with someone who looks like they could use one."

That was an interesting thought, a stranger trying to help another stranger. My mom couldn't help me, what made her think she was different? Not that she knew me or my situation other than what I'd told her.

I brushed off her comment. "Sometimes you can't help those not wanting help." I tried to explain to her. "Maybe I'm not someone who can be helped."

She placed her hands together over her knee and twiddled her fingers. "Maybe so. But either way." She had a wrapped candy inside her palm that was hidden under her grip. She placed it on my lap and stood up from where she was.

"Even the most hidden candies stay sweet." She said as she left me. In the darkness of the gaps between the street lights, she said loudly, "Remember, the bell tolls, and it tolls for thee."

Great, more poems.

I was so glad to be home. I took a long shower to feel better. The warm water on my skin recharged me, giving me a new hope.

I covered my ears and let the swish of the water hitting my head endulge me into a personal meditation. My thoughts focused on the girls final words.

Does the bell toll for me?