Suicide Rainbows-Part 2

Leave stardust for thus after me

Enter the void, fill in the cavity

Risk the reward if that's how it has to be

I gotta do better, I gotta do better, I gotta do

Everything in my power to try to do what God would do...

-Ab Soul, 'Do Better'

CONTINUED FROM PART 1...

It went against my nature to be impolite toward a stranger, especially one who also probably needed a friendly face as well. My will weakened enough by forces she couldn’t fathom, I relented.

“First time actually,” I replied.

She nodded in a way that suggested she already knew what my answer would be, and was just getting ready to get her hustle going. While Kuta did have its generous share of beautiful architecture, color, and friendly locals, there was a definite flip side to that coin. Amidst the iconic statues and many floral tributes dotted along the streets and alleys as tributes to their gods, the locals also knew how to hustle. Whether it was taxi/scooter rides, massage parlors, and of course drugs, I’d learned quickly on day one to keep my head on a swivel and give a firm no.

One such hustle usually involved an unsuspecting tourist being targeted by a local offering great deals on souvenirs and other gift items. Whether it was sneakers, bags, or t-shirts, they would always take the target to a shop at least a block or so away from where they found them. Asking questions about where they were from or how long their stay would be, this usually got the poor sucker relaxed into talking way too much. The ‘great deals’ the tourist needed to see were always somewhere in the back of the shop, with other locals keeping watch out front.

And that’s where the drugs would be offered…and sold if the tourist was clueless enough.

What made it interesting was the fact that there was usually an officer not far from the shop, who already knew what was going on. The officer follows the unsuspecting tourist after the fact to their shock. He issues either an arrest or a hefty fine. The dealer, on the other hand, gets a bit of a tip. All in a day’s work on the streets of Kuta. In a place where poverty is so widespread, one has to know that behind many of the smiles, nearly everything is a hustle. And as for the currency exchange places??? Let’s not even get started. I’d witnessed just about every known scam in a matter of weeks and was in no mood to be the next sucker in line.

I sat rigid in the sand, eyes fixed forward into the darkened horizon. The ocean waves whispered ominous yet soothing lullabies of comfort. I could slightly feel the weight of the broken beer bottle in my bag. Across the other side of the world with no weapons, I was desperate and had to get creative. All I needed was a few minutes to myself in the dark. Based on what I’d read, a few profound jabs to the neck, piercing the arteries would prove to be fatal.

My stomach growled with fury from not having eaten in three days and with little to no water. They say the human body can only survive without food or water for four days. Somehow I had the feeling there was something deep within my spirit willing to prove that you can’t believe everything you read on the internet. My mind stayed focused on an internal clock, silently counting down the minutes until she would get the hint and move along. Again, as it would appear, the universe had other plans.

“Where from originally?”

“New Orleans.”

A smile marched across her face. “Ah, Mardi Gras I see.”

Of course…

This was typical of conversations I’d had previously in Thailand with some of the locals as well as other tourists. No matter where you went in the world, people always perk up when they heard you were from New Orleans. As for the locals, if they didn’t know anything about the Crescent City, they knew three things:

Mardi Gras. Louis Armstrong. Hurricane Katrina.

On occasion, you would run into a very knowledgeable soul, usually an older woman who knew of the rapper Juvenile and his hit song, “Back That Azz Up.” Even within the twilight of my depression and deteriorating health, the universe somehow always managed to add some levity to my journey abroad.

Yes…it would appear they were still backing that ass up all over the world…

She could sense my meager smile as either a defense mechanism or a shy invitation for-

“Are you always so tense? Not having fun on vacation?”

Her words were as direct as her gaze. Her hands were even more forward. Not in a vulgar way, but one who knew my tense demeanor was definitely covering something. I shuddered from the touch but her firm yet delicate hands didn’t waiver. She had to have been a masseuse, a very skilled hustler, or both.

“Don’t mean to offend. You have a girlfriend back in New Orleans?”

“She’s here actually. It’s a little late and she just wanted to rest at the hotel. I’m only out here for a few minutes catching some air.”

I was lying my ass off.

I already failed at drowning myself. Now at a time when I really needed to be alone, she pops up out of nowhere and starts putting her hands on me. It was an unexpected comfort that betrayed my last wishes. I couldn’t help but briefly fix my gaze on the moon looming above. A part of me envisioned myself looking up at God and silently asking, ‘What the fuck?’

I was starting to notice a pattern here. A pattern that was possibly the result of my own life choices and circumstances. Even now, Langston Hughes’ words still called forward, expanding on the question…

“Or fester like a sore-

And then run?

It would appear that even now, the universe was speaking to me on that beach in Kuta. I’d experienced flashes of this very thing back in Thailand, and even back in the U.S. So how does one unpack this, as they say nowadays? What events in my life led me to these waters, somewhere between the surface of who I once was and who I somehow still yearned to be? Should I start at the beginning, a la David Copperfield? If I went back that far, it could take forever.

So far the sake of hopeful brevity before I close my eyes one last time, let’s start somewhere…

Anywhere…

MAY 25, 2009…

***

TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 3...