Return of the Lizard King - Jacob Long (classic books for 12 year olds txt) 📗

the apple of my eye
I savor the breeze ev’ry time she walks by
Her hair is the color of a beautiful rose
It follows the wind wherever it blows
So near, so dear
I want to speak my heart but I’m livin’ in fear
Save me, from the darkness inside
Your smile is a hunter, and you know I can’t hide
Her face is my pain and my pleasure each day
I love her free spirit and I’ll have it both ways
She’s right there, everyday
But I---


Jim stopped there, suddenly looking very unsure. His eyes looked through the crowd, moving uncertainly, looking for answers.
“I really can’t let go, can I?” Jim breathed. He dropped his papers on the floor and stood. He said, “I have to go,” and simply walked off the stage. The crowd went into an uproar. Lorraine rushed out to the microphone and begged them to stay seated.
Jim walked over to me and ripped my car keys off of the clip on my belt.
“Hey! What the hell are you doing?” I shouted.
Lorraine turned and watched us. Jim didn’t stop walking and I was forced to chase after him.
“I’m going to Santa Ana.”
I gasped. “You’re going to see her, aren’t you?”
We went through the back door and walked to the car. Jim hopped into the front seat. I was hesitant. “Are you sure you’re okay to drive?”
Jim didn’t wait. He started the car and I jumped in as fast as I could, I couldn’t let him go by himself. He peeled out of the parking lot and sped away. Lorraine came running out of the back doors after us just as it all happened and was left behind. Lucky for her she didn’t want to ride with me and took a separate car to the school. As quickly as she could, she started the big, black SUV and chased after us.
“Santa Ana is twelve hours from here, Jim.” I said. “Do you plan on driving all night?”
It looked to me like Jim’s eyes were starting to water. “I don’t care. I have to go. You never told me about it wanting you to set me free. I have to talk to her; the real her.”
I said, “Oh,” and sat back in my chair, clicking the seatbelt into place.
For hours we sat without another word. The radio was tuned to the local classic rock station. We heard at least five Doors songs. While passing through Arizona, Jims eyes started to flicker. I noticed it and asked, “You alright, Jim?”
Without hesitation, he answered, “I’m fine.”
I let it go. But in the next minute his eyes closed entirely and his head slumped to the side, taking the whole car with it. I grabbed the steering wheel as fast as I could and slammed my foot on the brake, guiding the car to the side of the road.
I sighed and unbuckled. Jim wasn’t buckled at all so I circled around to the other side of the car and simply rolled him into the passenger seat, buckling him there. I hopped into the driver’s seat, buckled, and started driving.
“Don’t worry, Jim” I said, “I’ll get us there.”

When Jim awoke the next morning, the car was stopped. It was a breezy day and the whole sky was gloomily overcast. He quickly rubbed his eyes and looked around. I wasn’t in the car. When he sat up in the seat he saw me sitting on the hood. Drearily, he opened the door. When he tried to get out the seat belt wouldn’t let him. After muttering an expletive, he tore it off and hopped out.
I was smiling. “You’re up!”
Jim shielded his eyes from the light. “Where are we?”
“Fairhaven Memorial Park.” I answered, then I pointed to something in the distance.
Squinting, Jim spotted a small interment embossed with the words “Pamela Susan…Morrison” accompanied by two pictures of Pam and Jim together. Like a slave, Jim drifted to the grave, falling to his knees in front of it, a martyred angel. The wind made it impossible to hear what he was saying; only Pam was meant to hear it. Suddenly I heard a gearbox downshifting behind me and I turned to see who was approaching. Lorraine was pulling up in the SUV. She hopped out and jogged over to me.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
She stopped and looked at me like I was ridiculous. “My husband hops into a car with some drunk and I’m just expected to sit and hope he comes back?”
“How did you find us?”
“I heard you guys say you were going to Santa Ana and used my GPS. Didn’t you guys stop to sleep at all?”
I didn’t have a response for that. I just turned away and watched Jim.
“Um, hey.” Jim muttered to the grave. “It’s been a while since we’ve talked, huh? I’ve wanted, so bad, to talk to you. Maybe that’s what got me down here, sheer force of will. Well, anyway; I’m here because—“ Jim scoffed and put his hands on his hips. “I bet you’re wondering why I am here, huh? Talking to a pile of ashes.” He laughed nervously. “What I have to say is really important. For the last forty years, I’ve been alone, thinking about how I lived my life. Now I know my biggest mistake was the way I treated you. I deserve to burn in hell for cheating on you, and abusing you the way I did. Ugh, I wish I had a face to talk to. Can you hear me? I just wanted to say that…I’m sorry. You’ve heard me say I love you a thousand times, but you’ve never heard me say I’m sorry. I truly am.” Jim started whimpering, tears streaming down his face. He could hardly get the words out. “I just miss you so fucking much. Umm, If I had one wish, it would be to see your face just one more time so I could look into your eyes and tell you how I feel, but it may not be my choice anymore. I—I just don’t want to go back into that pit again.”
By then Jim was crying really hard, and couldn’t even speak anymore. Without warning, a light hand came to rest on his shoulder. He sniffled and looked to see who it was. Standing behind him in a bright, white robe, was Pam. Jim wiped his eyes and stood to face her.
I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing.
“Pam I—I uh…“ Finally Jim was face to face with her, and he was too choked up to find the words.
Pam reached up and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling his head into the nape of her neck, where he continued to cry profusely. “Shh,” she cooed. “It’s all right Jim. It’s over now.”
Jim pulled away and looked at her face. His eyes were rimmed with red and he was snotting up.
Pam smiled. “Look at you, still the same little boy I knew all those years ago. My silly little Lizard King. You haven’t changed a bit.”
Jim smiled, “Yeah, I’m still the same, but look at you; you got old.”
Pamela laughed, “Fuck you!”
The two lovers laughed together, reunited at last.
“Let’s go home,” Pam said.
A blinding white light erupted from out of nowhere over the graves. Jim looked at it and asked. “Is that heaven?”
“Yes.” Pam smiled. “Let’s go, together this time.” Pam took Jim’s hand and together they strode toward the light.
Just before entering Jim stopped and looked at me, “Thanks Matt, you really saved me.”
I had no words, I just smiled and waved sheepishly. Jim smiled back and entered the light, disappearing into time. Shortly after, the light faded.
Lorraine and I were left standing in the cemetery. I turned to her and said, “Lorraine I-“
She cut me off. “I know Matt. I’m sorry too.”
She wrapped her arms around me and I her. I knew there was a lesson to be learned from this as I stared at the pictures of Jim and Pam together on Pam’s grave.
“Makes me wonder.” I said.
“What?” Lorraine asked.
“If Jim was ever really in heaven. Maybe having to be alone and forced to spend time with a false Pam was a torture only hell could devise. His reality was torture enough.”
Lorraine gazed at the grave as well. “Could any hell be more horrifying than now, and real?”
I smiled at her inspired Jim Morrison reference and she smiled back; then she took my hand in hers and said, “Come on, we have to go home too.”
Together we walked hand in hand, back to the cars.

The End Imprint

Text: This book is in no way affiliated, endorsed, or sponsored by the surviving Doors members, Elektra Records, or any surviving member of the Courson Family. All rights reserved.
Publication Date: 07-16-2011

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
To James Douglas Morrison; Poet.