This one leads into Rose of My Heart.
It was time for Jonas to leave; everyone else was gone already. He had seen Kate and Wil off the day before; along with their silent companion, boxed in as he was. He felt like he should have a medal waiting on him somewhere. Surely someone gave out awards for loneliness and broken hearts. There was only one place for him to travel towards. He had been watching a favorite old movie; it was about a nasty tempered, drunken ex-teacher, a writer who was full of self doubt, and the daughter of singer who sang about hunters with lonely hearts. He watched that movie from time to time; it reminded him where home really was. He needed to get back to the land of gumbo and crawdad po boys. South, to the thick muggy air of New Orleans; cross the Pontchartrain once again. He wondered if she would be there when he arrived, it had been years since he had left the closest place to a home he had ever had.
He really didn’t know what had caused him to leave the last time; maybe it was a restless soul looking for salvation in all the wrong places. Maybe the Blues had just become far too loud. Sidetracked by the scent of a woman. All Jonas knew right now was that he needed to get back home. He grabbed a small red duffel bag and filled it with a few changes of clothes. He grabbed a book by a man long since departed, and looked around for a CD or two to take with him. On his way out of the door he looked back at all of the things he was leaving behind, and smiled, the movie caught his eye; he picked it up and shut the door behind him. He checked his mailbox for certificates of recognition, but there were none. The people over at the lonely hearts club must be behind in their picks this year. Sometimes legends just remain unknown. Jonas had about a thirteen hour drive ahead of him, and his aching knees were already protesting loudly. He opened the door to his car, and stiffly slid down into the seat. He placed the duffel bag behind him, started the old ford, turned the radio on, and headed out as he lit a smoke from the cars cigarette lighter.
The trip South was long and thankfully uneventful. He stopped in Jackson, Mississippi to rest for a bit, he was halfway there, or close to it. He felt like he had been driving a hundred miles an hour in the wrong direction. There was a deep throb in his chest, the rhythm of it sounded like a whip-poor-will’s nocturnal cries. He had no idea what exactly he was doing. The leaving had not been a good one, they never were. How could he even think about going back after that? He had left a perfectly good woman so far behind, the Rose of his heart. It hadn’t been easy to do, but it was far easier than it should have been. Jonas had never been one to just settle down, but Rose had made him feel like he had a home, welcomed in it even. They really could have changed the world before they had been done, and hell they still might; one way or another. Jonas wondered where his medal of valor was.
Covington, Louisiana was coming into view. This was where the Abita Beer brewery was, and where an old monastery he used to visit was located. He still had the key to the front gate they had given him so many years ago. Soon he would be driving across the bridge over Lake Pontchartrain. It was the longest highway bridge over water in the entire world; 23.9 miles. St. Tammany Parish on the north shore to Metairie on the south shore. It would give him plenty of time to think about what he was doing, not that it mattered; there was no where to turn around. Metairie was where he was headed, close enough to New Orleans to lie to people with good conscious about where you where from. There was a flower there he wanted to pick, but he was worried about thorns and old wounds. Jonas pulled into his old neighborhood; saw the house that had once; for a short time, been a home. He stopped the car, and prayed for that smile. He prayed for Patrick, Kate and Wil; he raised his head and opened the car door. It sounded a grating alarm of rusty hinges. He left his bag where it was; no need in unpacking just yet.
KB
9 of 12 - Legend in My Own Time
9 of 12 - Legend in My Own Time
Life ain't linear.
9 of 12 - Legend in My Own Time
Maybe he should go back to Rose :-4 and leave the past behind.
You tell a good story K B.
You tell a good story K B.
9 of 12 - Legend in My Own Time
abbey;652734 wrote: Maybe he should go back to Rose :-4 and leave the past behind.
You tell a good story K B.
He's working on it, and thank you.
You tell a good story K B.
He's working on it, and thank you.
Life ain't linear.
9 of 12 - Legend in My Own Time
almostfamous;652771 wrote: I agree with Abbey. Rose can be what he needs.
That why he drove his aching knees down South, Im getting to it.
That why he drove his aching knees down South, Im getting to it.
Life ain't linear.
9 of 12 - Legend in My Own Time
almostfamous;652782 wrote: I couldn't find the video for this one either 
No worries, ten will be up in a few minutes.
No worries, ten will be up in a few minutes.
Life ain't linear.