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© Rafael Gomez - 2006
All I can remember before the bullet ripped through my spinal cord and I collapsed onto the hard, black asphalt, was how beautiful the shade of blue, her eyes were.
(Blue)
Not turquoise blue or azure. Just blue. I don’t think that there are enough of the simple colors nowadays. Everything is too much of this or too little of that. I know what you’re thinking.
What the fuck has the color of her eyes have to do with the fact that the bitch just blew a grapefruit sized hole in your back. Well, I’ll tell you. It has everything to do with it. I have to make you realize how blue her eyes were.
(Blue)
Not sky blue or sea blue. Just blue. I had a bike that color blue when I was a kid. It was almost magical how when I’d ride it down Morrison’s Hill, it would seem like I was flying. I’d close my eyes and feel the wind blow on my face. Nothing ever felt like that. One night I had taken my blue bike out there. I had snuck out of the house and into the light of a full moon. The night air was cold and crisp. I could remember thinking that if Dad caught me sneaking out he’d probably kill me. But still I did it. The glowing moon had turned my bike black and I marveled at it as I raced across the countryside on it. I breathed the night air and raised my arms in an embrace of the sky. The night sky circled all around me, making me feel dizzy.
(Blue)
Blue like in that song on 2001. I was floating in the field of blue that was those beautiful eyes. Blue like the lake that I used to swim in when I was twelve. The dark reflected blue of the sky, its blue was more, insidious. It kept its mysteries hidden. My dad had used to say that a woman was sexy if she could keep her secrets. She could reveal some here and there. But it was the secrets that she never revealed that made her desirable. Like some hidden strong box that contained some awesome treasure, her secrets could make or break a man. That was where women held the power.
(Blue)
Blue like the jeans that my first girlfriend had worn on our first interlude. Denim blue. Soft, yet rugged to the touch. Much like her. I think her name had been Daphne. Now I really can ‘t be sure. Daphne or Diane or Demi…no, it had been Daphne. She had been something. My blue Daphne. We made love in the back of an old Chevelle. The bright yellow moon reflected its fat form on the hood of my blue Chevelle. Then for some strange reason she began to scream. I don’t know why exactly. All I can remember was trying to quiet her and breaking her nose. Bright red flowed from it and stained the blue seats of my car.
(Blue)
Blue like the blue steel of the service revolver that my dad used to carry. It was the one that I used to take out of its hiding place behind the headboard of his bed. That’s where mom used to keep it. She kept a lot of dad’s old stuff from his cop days there. She wanted to get rid of them but would always stop herself. It was all we had left of dad to remember him by. That and his dress uniform, which she kept carefully, packed away in several plastic garbage bags, hung up in the closet. I remember her telling me how he died. He was chasing a suspect from a robbery scene and he was shot. He never even knew what hit him.
I had a habit of taking the gun out and using it for my little “nocturnal escapades.” Liquor stores, homes that stood asleep in the dead of night. The moon shone blue in the sky and watched me like the omnipotent eye of some dark god. Dad would be so proud.
(Blue)
Blue like the old Cadillac that I used to getaway from the liquor store. My heart was racing faster than my wheels on the highway. The blue lights of the police cars glared in my rearview mirror. I had shot a man. A pen in his shirt pocket caught the first bullet and spilled blue ink all over his chest. It turned black as his blood mixed with it, the blood becoming overpowering. I didn’t have to shoot him again but the red startled me. It was strange. Like an interloper it invaded my blue sanctuary and made its presence known. Like before it dominated and corrupted and desecrated. I ran from the red. Ironic that it found me in the form of flashing red and blue lights. I rev the Caddy’s engine and speed off. Trying to disappear into the darkness of the night. I pray to the watchful moon to hide me, hold me invisible, but it just stares. The omnipotent night god has become a stupid stone idol mocking my prayer. Stoplights shine their accusing redness on my car. There is nowhere to hide so I squeal my car to a halt and jump out drawing my blue revolver on the cop in the blue car. Just as I am about to shoot I see her eyes are a brilliant shade of blue. Like a blue I have never seen. I am held spellbound as she draws her weapon and the pain erupts in my chest.
(Blue)
Blue like her uniform. She stands over me with the barrel of the gun, it smoking warmth in the cold night air. I can’t move. My dad’s revolver is clutched tightly in my right hand. I am held captive by her eyes. Two magical pools of intense blue. I could have fallen in love with her in another time, another universe. I close my eyes letting the pain of the slug join with me. My blue image turns red with the stain of blood. My blood, Daphne’s blood, dad’s blood, mom’s blood, the liquor store clerks blood.
Red is such a harsh color. I shudder as the red begins to darken into blackness.
Black is my least favorite color. Fitting I die immersed in it.
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