I bought a guitar on e-bay about a month ago. It was supposed to be a Zion Radicaster. It turned out the only thing that really was Zion was the neck. The body was a strat copy made of cheap plywood. The tremolo was cheap and the sustain block was made of a cheap zinc / lead mixture. Very disappointing. It sounded dead even with new strings. I was disappointed. But, as I said, the neck was a Zion and though I now had too much money invested in it, I decided to buy a real fender strat body and a vintage Wilkenson bridge. The pickups were David Gilmoure signature EMG's which are nice. But they were mounted on an ugly pearloid pick guard with three mini toggle switches. So I went back to e-bay and bought a signature Jimmy Vaughn body and a Wilkenson VSV tremolo which is probably twenty-five years old. The body is black so I bought a black pick guard and installed the EMG's on it along with a new five-way switch. I mounted it to the body and then, since I already had the neck off, I leveled and recrowned the frets. This turned into an unexpected project that took a few days and also took my mind off Joel. I put everything back together and restrung the guitar and plugged it into a small amp I have. What rang out was absolutely incredible. I couldn't believe it. The bass strings sounded like a piano and sustained forever. Every string was alive and clear, each with it's own personality. Brandon heard it and came running into the room to see what it was that he was hearing. He was amazed, I was amazed and a very strange feeling came over me. A feeling I couldn't identify. It came as quite a shock and then I realized what I was feeling was joy. Something that has been absent for so long. Joy! What the hell? I felt a bit guilty about it too. I played that guitar for a few hours and held onto the strange feeling the rest of the day. I think it has bumped out a piece of my darkness permanently now, my despair, my sorrow. While the dark feelings are still there, there seems to be a place in there reserved for something new that feels much better. Maybe if I feed and water it, it may grow.
This morning when I awoke I could see the light entering the sky through the cracks in the blind behind the head of our bed. I could tell by the amount of light mixing with darkness that it was about the same time I dropped Joel off at school; the last time I saw him alive as he walked away from me two years ago. I have constantly wondered if he said anything at all to me that would have hinted something was wrong that day, or if he said good-bye differently or if he said the words, "Good-Bye" as he never said that. But it was in the predawn fog and routine as every other morning; and I have been over it in my mind thousands of times and as time has passed, I'm not sure if I'm really thinking and reliving the correct day. I've considered hypnosis to see if there is a latent image or memory that could be awakened. But I'm not sure that would help me in the healing process. Because, what if there was something as blatent as him saying, "Good-Bye" and I dismissed it or didn't catch it. And in hypnosis, like dreaming, I wouldn't know if my mind was just fucking with me or if it really happened. I know he didn't say, "I love you," as he normally did any time we parted or ended a phone conversation. He stopped saying it several weeks prior to his death.
2:00 PM, May 14, 2009 I headed back to pick up Joel as I did most afternoons after school. I normally made it to our meeting place by 17 or 18 after where he would already be waiting. He wasn't there that afternoon so I waited a few minutes before phoning him. My call went right to voice mail which meant he must not have charged his phone. I waited until 2:30 or so and still no Joel.
Joel had started a pattern of being tardy and less considerate than he was before he met a group of kids six months prior, so I expected he picked up a ride with them as he did so many times before, sometimes without telling me his plans. It had gotten a bit frustrating to me when he did this without telling me. But still I had this nagging feeling something was wrong. The feeling was so strong I almost took a route home that was completely out of the way and one I've never taken before. Something inside kept prodding me to turn left at the corner and go the other way but I didn't. I turned right and headed home. Brandon was due home from Middle School and I needed to be there when he arrived. I left another message for Joel and headed home. Little did I know that the other route is in all probability the road he was taking and walking south. My timeline tells me he had been walking since 1:18. An hour and ten minutes have passed. Even if I had gone the other way home, he would have been about a mile south of the last road that lead to our home. I wouldn't have found him. But still...
This is what spins through my head every waking moment of every day and every night. It doesn't matter what I'm doing or not doing. It doesn't stop. I'll write it exactly as it comes to me:
Where is my Joel?
Why did you leave?
Why didn't you turn around?
Where are you?
Why did you leave?
Where were you?
I wish you were here?
You didn't have to go.
I love you.
I miss you.
What did you do?
I'm sorry.
I love you.
I wish you were here.
God I wish you were here.
Why didn't you just come home?
Where did you stay?
I can only imagine?
I wish you were here.
I don't know what happened.
I love you.
I never thought it would end like this.
I miss you.
Why didn't you just come back.
Why didn't you just come back?
Why did you go?
Did you do it on purpose?
Why did you leave us?
I miss my boy.
Memories.
Where are you?
Why didn't you just come home?
God dammit.
I hate this.
I wish it was back.
I wish it was back.
God dammit.
What happend to you?
I miss you.