Friends

PART THIRTY-TWO: CRITIC

November 17, 2007, Saturday

Before the day had gone dark, I contemplated throughout my life. Reminding myself of a more sufficient time to write something about. I argue with these poems, as if they were channeled thoughts but in the end, I have them stored. I had one dream and a call.

I dialed my publisher's number, "Do you have time?"

"Sure, whatever it is," he beeped on the line

"I am writing a new book. It's a poetry book filled with endless poems, not a tragic story or a romantic story. But my cold-hearted poems."

I heard a sign from him—a sigh, "Rode, we've known each other for the first time since you came to me. It was around five to six years. You must've known me already, I am ready for anything that you create." I never knew that he would approve of a poetry book, "In my hands, it'll sell out well. Take it from me."

I had a moment's blast over there, not by his words but by the way he trusted me, "It'll take a long time though. Don't mind me."

"Thanks for calling. But I'll still be a critique to you."

"You always do," I said.

He laughed, "I'll wait anytime till you're ready."

"Then, wait until next year."

"Sure, I don't mind."

"I'm sure you'll criticize it. These are poems, give them a break."

"That's what you're getting into. No trespassing—just the old same way."

"Mind if I lent you one of my poems," I hoped.

"I'll wait for the big reveal of yours. You always put up with surprises, don't you?"

"Surprise as if it were."

"They are actually."

"You should've told me that "There He Was All Alone" got sold out here in Florida."

"I haven't checked the data ever since," he said.

"Oh, now can you check?"

"I can see that it got various releases in other states. I can see that in your neighborhood that it's doing well even in other places," I heard numerous clicks on the phone.

I sensed a tap at my back, "Really? Did you improvise that?"

"Now, how did you figure it out?"

I had a smirk, "I know you. That quick second wouldn't last you long to take a glimpse of the reports. I don't mind it though."

"You don't? You're damn right, I should've told you."

"You should've. Although, the word's out and it's nothing to get defensive about."

"I see you being defensive a while ago."

"Hey, that wasn't me."

"What, you're an alter-ego?"

"No, it was Harry here."

"Where is he?"

He popped out, "Hey, loving Charlie's poetry book so far."

"Good to know that, Harry. Now, can the both of you keep the day onwards."

"Sure, come by sometimes," Harry said.

"You do realize I live far away."

"Oh yeah. Seems that Charlie's walking out on you," Harry added

"What? Is he, right now?"

"I told you, he's joking," I said.

"Okay, you two. I'll hang up now."

Harry jumping on me during the middle of our conversation made me take a detour from our chat. It was fun. He was nice to approach me back then, during our graduation. Noticing my work and I couldn't imagine the guy I helped with his poem would turn out to be my publisher. He must've had lots to think about. I just know that he'll love it.

***

November 22, 2007, Thursday

I went outside after almost a week. For the most outrageous thing, to buy a scented candle. The atmosphere and fragrance make me so immersed in making poems beside my typewriter. As of now, I don't have one. Right now, I must've been panicking.

A vase of flowers would be nice if I were thinking about dying soon. And have a funeral casket out to be thrown full of daisies. Reminds me of that one song where it mentions daisy. It certainly isn't a wedding cause. I saw Harry in the corner of the couch, giving a rear view of his phone as I approached him.

"Why? Who are you texting?"

Harry had a quick turn up from his smile, "Nobody."

They always say that, of course, "Would you like to come along with me?"

"Where?"

"To buy a candle and coffee."

"I'd rather stay here than see those two lovers making out in East Coffee."

"Sure, but hey. If you have time, read these three poems for me. Will you?"

"Being distracted is just the thing."

"I know right? Keeping your girl hidden from the rest of us."

He scoffed, "I do not."

"Sure," looking used to those words. "I'll head out now."