Tuesday, November 16, 2021

The Lone Chameleon

 Dear Mr. Stewart, 

My name is James and I live in Australia. I have been a fan of your art for a long time now. Particularly, your work The Lone Chameleon. I feel like a chameleon a lot because I feel like I'm invisible. No one really sees me, and if they do, they don't want to know me. I only wish that I could really turn invisible like the Lone Chameleon can. It might be better that way. I wouldn't be able to be seen to be picked on any more. 


Anyway, I have a chance at a friend, but whoever they are.. They want it to be secret. At least for now. I guess it's safer that way. I really like The Lone Chameleon and I wanted to know if it'd be ok for me to borrow the name to use with this new secret friend of mine? I hope you write back and it's ok. 

James

-0O0-

Dear James, 

You can call me Marty if you'd like. Mr. Stewart makes me sound a bit old, but I'm really not sure if I'm that much older than you. I'm really happy to hear you like The Lone Chameleon so much. It's one of my favorite creations. You're welcome to borrow, or should I share the name. I'll just ask one thing if I may- if anyone asks where it came from, tell them about me, ok? 


I'm not sure if you've seen or know about it already, but if you look on my website, I've written the story behind The Lone Chameleon there. I thought that might interest you, but want to say for now that you're not alone. Also, it sounds like things might be a little rough for you- I'm real sorry about that and hope it gets better soon. All the Best, 

Marty 

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Marty Stewart was first featured in my short story The Storyteller, written in honour of Stan Lee, which you can read here

You can also read more of James's story in my latest longer release, Cam & Goldie, over on Wattpad here. The first few chapters are up now. 

Thursday, October 28, 2021

No Words

 The sky overhead was covered with big clouds. Not a touch of bright blue in sight. Rain ran down, drenching everything it touched with it's freezing cold droplets as darkness descended upon her world. 


She lay on the ground, alone, silent and stuck in place. She'd long ago given up on trying to move. It was no use, being trapped by invisible chains that kept her bound. No longer could she scream or make a tiny sound, for all of that had long been lost to her. Even if she'd been able to manage some kind of small squeak, there was no one to hear it. At least, no one who cared. Those who did, those who tried, were all ripped away and she was beaten further down. Just to reinforce the lesson. Don't bother trying. No matter what you do, it won't be good enough. If it is good, you'll be laughed at for your efforts. And most importantly, no matter what, you are on your own. 


So she lay still and silent, wishing that she could just melt away. That she could somehow evaporate into the ground and cease to exist. That was the only out she could see. The only way to make it all stop and go away. But she couldn't do that. She couldn't do anything. 


It seemed to go on for forever, until finally, one day, it stopped. After so long in pitch blackness, she was blinded by the sunlight streaming down upon her, as if from a crack . The light illuminated something. Squinting narrowed her focus enough to allow her to recognise the something as a hand. On immediate instinct, she recoiled and flinched. Her heat beat faster, nearly jumping up to her throat. Hands weren't good, she'd learned long ago. They got ripped away, and both of them would pay a price in the end. 


For long enough to lose all track of time, she stared at the hand reached toward her. Steady and unmoving. Still there. Her entire arm shook as she moved it at snail's pace toward the hand outstretched. The hand moved closer. Fingers curled around her wrist and a gentle pull helped her to her feet. 


She blinked. The stranger that looked back at her wore an expression that had become foreign to her. Their face bore a soft, gentle kindness she wasn't used to anymore. The sad sympathetic smile reached to fill their eyes with tears. A sorrow and sorry for what she had been through. For the darkness that had completely enveloped her and overshadowed her entire world. She felt the air leave her lungs. The hand still holding hers squeezed, as if to say that it would be ok. But also that it was ok if it wasn't ok. 


Slowly, as the hand kept on holding hers, she grew used to the light re-entering and taking over her world. She learnt that the sun wouldn't burn her to a crisp and instead, she allowed it, and the stranger's care to rewarm her freezing cold soul. 


After a time, the hand let go of hers. But the stranger, now a friend, stayed standing beside her. Still there, just in case. Their very presence was all she needed to let herself be brave as she started to learn to move and walk again. They stepped forward when she stumbled, offering a hand to catch her before she fell to the ground. They helped her find her stability and steadiness when the ground beneath her feet felt shaky and fragile. They supported her balance when she needed to tiptoe so the ground beneath her wouldn't crack. 


But then, the ground did crack. Her eyes darted around as she started to fall, looking for the kind stranger who had become her friend, and something of a saviour. But she couldn't see them anywhere. Their hand had disappeared. Her breath caught in her throat. She wasn't sure if they'd been ripped away, but those same feeling as if they had been flooded her now. Terrifying fear. She was frozen in place, unable to move, barely managing to breathe. The light and warmth that had filled her world disappeared and she was plunged into icy darkness. Her universe was pitch black, and it was just like she was right back there, all over again.   


But just as the horrible darkness returned, so too did a hand. And not just one this time, either. Many hands all appeared to take hers. She couldn't believe her eyes as she looked at all the people around her, willing to pull her to her feet and support her shaky steps. Now, her eyes were the ones brimming with tears. A lump filled with emotion prevented any kind of speech as she allowed a few to help her up, slow and steady to stand. 


Then, her breath caught, picturing what seemed like the inevitable. Every single one of the people belonging to the outstretched hands being beaten black and blue, just because of the offer of a hand. She shook her head, not wanting that for any of them. She fell hard and fast to her knees, tears streaming down her face. I'm not worth it, she wanted to tell them. 


But still, the hands remained, waiting. But you are, they seemed to say, and she was reminded of that first stranger. The one who had made her feel like it was ok. She found their face amongst the many people surrounding her as they all came closer. With a collective effort of everyone, she was supported to stand, and a tight embrace ensured she would not fall again. 


She felt warmth emanating from the bodies around her. Warmth that was fuelled by a genuine kind caring. By love. The warmth of several who knew she was more then she'd been led to believe. Then she now thought herself to be. People who saw her, even though she'd lost sight of herself. Who remembered, even when she'd forgotten.  


She looked at all of them. She wanted to say something, to tell them all how much it meant. How much they meant. But the lump of emotion was still rock hard in her throat. Even if she had been able to speak, she wasn't sure she'd be able to find the words. She had none. No words would be adequate to begin to describe everything she felt, how much it, and they, all meant. There were no words. No words at all. 

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For all of the people who have helped and supported me. You know who you are, and I have no words adequate enough to thank you. For everything. 

Wednesday, September 22, 2021

Man of Contradictions

 Somewhere deep in a valley between some of the tallest mountains around, was the cave where he hid. Well, it wasn't exactly hiding... Not when he was likely the only person around for miles, but all the same, he doubted anyone knew he was there. He was that quiet, he doubted anyone would even notice him if they were aware of his presence. 


Tony Benjamin had learned long ago to keep to himself. Associating with people hadn't gotten him very far in his life. All it had brought was hurt and heartache. And yet, there was still a yearning to find the special someone it seemed so many others had. So for better, or perhaps for worse, Tony wore his heart on his sleeve. Just in case- you never know right? But, he still kept his distance. Just in case. 


Tony looked up and down at the man opposite him, in the mirror. He saw himself as he was, but he saw too the Tony only he knew. The Tony he hid away out of near indestructible instincts to protect himself. He saw the complex contrasts; wanting connection, yet actively avoiding it, how chill and laid back he was in the rare moments he spent with others around, compared to how internally anxious he was inside.  

 "You confuse me," he said, shaking his head.  

"I know. I confuse me too." 


No one would ever guess his age from looking at him. Whether it was his anxious ruminating, intellectual ponderings or something else. Whatever it was, the facts remained the same. His worry lines were deep and he had gone grey. If you stopped at appearances, Tony Benjamin was an old man. But, if you looked deeper and gave him a chance, you'd see how young he really was. Tony was standoffish (at times) but super soft and sweet at his core. He was incredibly smart and at the same time, astoundingly anxious. Anxious because he was smart, yet at times, a little dumb because he was anxious.. How that worked, even Tony wasn't sure. What he was sure of was that he, Tony Benjamin, was a man of contradictions. 


"So, knowing all of that, knowing my complex contradictions, my faults and attributes that contrast each other. Knowing all of that, would you take a chance on me?" He waits with baited breath. 


 

Saturday, August 28, 2021

Winds of Connection

 They shrug. “Call me, he, call me she..” They slide their shades a little further down their nose to reveal focused, dark eyes beneath, bearing into your soul, almost like a test. "But what I'd much rather is that you call me they. Or even better yet, call me, me." They grin. "When it all comes down to it, that's who I am, more than anything or anyone, after all. Me."  

You'd like to get a word in edgewise, but they rush on so fast, you don't stand a chance. 

"I am me, just as you are you," they say. "Why do we have to attach labels to everything? What does it matter?" 

You open your mouth again., but again, they push on. 

"It doesn't." With those two words, they speak for the both of you. 

Holding their gaze, you just nod. 


"Now labels..." they trail off, thinking. "Labels," they try again, "are funny things. Labels seem to highlight what is different about us. Now don't get me wrong. Differences are great. But labels seem to take away from that. Labels seem to taint the difference, and paint it in a bad light. Now, we don't want that, do we?" 

You shake your head, feeling like you have no choice but to agree, even though you're really not sure, about the idea, nor where they're going with it. "No." 

They tut, as if their own view wasn't already apparent. 


With a sharp inhale, they raise a finger in the air. "In that sense, differences can drive us away. What I'd really like is to focus not on difference, but on sameness. What is it that we have in common? What is there that brings us together? That unites us?" Their eyes are trained on you, as if expecting you'll have the answer. 

Just when you don't think you can take it anymore, they wave a hand in the air and you feel the relief course through you like a great big sigh. 

"That's what we have to find out, isn't it?" 

You nod, perhaps a little too quickly, grateful. 

They raise their arms, their striped poncho falling like wings and spin around, swirling the poncho in the air. They throw their head back and laugh. "Feel that." The movement of their arms creates a warm breeze that tickles your cheek. "How sweet is it? How freeing and beautiful."

You simply look back at them, at a loss for how to respond. 

"That's what we need. Shared experiences. Sameness. We need to be brought closer together. What we need, more than anything, is connection."  

Friday, July 23, 2021

Wish

 With a name like Jewel, anyone would be forgiven for thinking she was a gem. That she had a heart of gold. It's an easy mistake to make, I guess, when you don't know her like I do. Anyone could easily fall into that trap. I should know. I did... 


I thought Jewel was amazing. I thought she may well have been the best thing since sliced bread. See, Jewel is the kind of person who oozes charisma. She radiates charm. She's the kind of person who could light up a room and have everyone in it eating out of the palm of her hand with a mere snap of her fingers. 


One such night, I watched on in awe as she spoke to a growing crowd of people. More and more of them gathered around her, all of them laughing heartily or with beaming grins that illuminated their whole face. And over in the corner stood I, her quiet, shy kid sister, wishing I knew how to talk with people the way she did. To connect as effortlessly as she had. 


Little did younger me realise that while I looked on with wistful wishing, she was also stealing glances back at me, secretly wishing the crowd that surrounded her would all just go away and leave her alone, just like they were with me. They did eventually. Because eventually, she figured out how to make them all go away. Every single person that tried to get close. Not straight away though. For a while, they all kept coming back. Kept trying. But eventually, they realised, and eventually, they gave up. Eventually, I did too. But I persisted longer than the others. I was the biggest sucker of them all. 


With a sigh, I concede to myself that she is my sister after all. Of course I didn't want to give up that easily. Of course I wanted to believe something else, something better. Of course my view of her was rosey coloured. Of course it's only now, that it's all been going on so long that I'm starting to really see. And of course it feels as painful as it does to me, because that's who I am. 


I am the bleeding heart who feels everything almost too deeply. I care, too much. Love too much. I peer at my sister across the way. She puts on a good face, pretending like a professional, as if her life depends on it. In a way, I suppose, it kind of does. Or at least, this facade she has going does. I squint, as if this will give me clearer vision. It does a bit, but not into what I really want to see.


I can't help wondering if Jewel's heart is encased in a thick layer of ice. Or had it long ago turned to stone? Either seems like a possibility, for how little she seems to care or feel for others. If she feels at all. But what does it matter? Knowing these facts won't change the way Jewel is. It won't change the mask she puts on in front of everyone, nor the fact that she never seems to take it off. None of that will change. I just wish it would. I wish that somehow, knowing could help me fix it. Stupidly, I just wish. 

If wishes were horses... Our father has said this to me so many times that the words are so ingrained in my brain and I can practically hear him saying it, even though he's nowhere near me. 

"Beggars would ride," I finish in a whisper to myself. "I know, Dad." I sigh. Even though Jewel and I might balance each other out with our levels of feeling and caring, this is our problem. Someone always ends up hurt. 

"Could enough blood melt ice?" I wonder aloud to myself. "Could it crack stone?" 

Across the way, Jewel steals a glance on my direction. Just for a moment, our eyes lock, and I know. We both wish.  

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this story follows on from How Do You Solve a Problem? which you can read here