All Change at Zima Junction

For Yevgeny Yevtushenko, 1932-2017

Everyone changes trains at Zima Junction
Changes lives; nineteen becomes twenty-one
With hardly a pause for twenty and then
Everyone asks you questions you can’t answer

And then they say you’ve changed, and ignore you
The small-town brief-case politician still
Enthroned as if she were a committee
And asks you what are you doing back here

And then you go away, on a different train:
Everyone changes trains at Zima Junction

“I went, and I am still going.”1


1Yevtuskenko: Selected Poems. Penguin,1962

"...In the young man's bedroom
police found disturbing
poetry, drawings, and writings.
The boy's father said he
knew about these
and encouraged the
boy to stop them."

The television droned on.
A school shooting.
Numbers, irrelevant.
The boy took his own
life along with his
classmate's.

"His father, the model of
manliness, told him to stop
the only way he knew how to
express himself."
said the decrepit octogenarian
to his squat, plump nurse.

"Yes, Mr. Smith. You shouldn't
be watching that stuff...
it gets you all excited then
I have to come in here
and check your pulse,
and heart, and oxygen."

Would hate
to make you get up...
He thought.

"The anger can't be bottled
up forever. It will come out.
It could have come out
in a therapeutic and peaceful
way, but it came out in
a violent and brutal way."

"Yes, Mr. Smith, the world
is a terrible place."

"That's not what I said.
What stands between
a murderer and an Einstein
is the ability to express
oneself. This boy
was taught that his
expression was wrong, therefore
he was wrong."

"The youth are troubled."

"The youth are perfect.
They haven't had the weight
and burden of time ****** on them.
They are the only ones free
from the ******* story
we all buy of the way things
are. They can
express themselves and
change the world, but
we have to stop telling them
they're wrong."

"Oh of course Mr. Smith, the
children are our future..."

Stupid *****, she's not even
listening. She can't wait to
get back to her one
handed novel she's got
at the reception desk.

The man closed his eyes
and dreamed of what could be
if he were young again.

I can hear it in your voice
I can see it in your eyes
I watch it in your smile

The way you looked at me...
The way you thought of me...
It's gone.

I know I made a choice-
I know you could hear it in my voice.
I didn't let you in

I said no- I couldn't even begin
My fears disguised by rationality.
But where does that leave me?

Behind? Forgotten? Alone?

I can hear it in your voice.
Please don't leave me
       Without a choice,

Please don't leave me-    
Behind...
Forgotten and alone

With my choice.

Two months out of the year
Children have unlimited fun
The beach is a bit crowded
As families bathe under the sun.

But happiness is ever present
That's pretty hard to ignore.
Then comes first day of school
And we long for just one more...

Day of Summer

I do believe that you fell in love,
With yourself most likely.
But at least I acknowledge it,
So I still smile brightly.

It seem to upset you...
my ability to move on.
But you never cared for me
In that sense you have won.

You've won my heart
Which clearly wasn't enough.
So when you left, though it hurt,
It made me a bit more... tough.

"Sit up dear."
"Do not frown!"
"Cross your legs
And wear a gown"

So many rules
in how to be a girl.
I Just want to play
and learn to do a twirl.

But "Yes mama"
Is all I ever say,
I owe her too much
And by gosh I will repay.

Anything to see her eyes sparkle
With that hint of pride,
Because just as she claims me
I claim her as mine.

We have our differences
But we love each other all the same
If given the choice we would
Take on even each other's pain.

I Love you mama,
and I always will.
Even if when you were angry
Your stare gave me chills.

At least I think twice
before I make a mistake.
What would mama say
If I ate the whole cake?

Haha, I won't
But sure wish I could.
Don't want mama angry
That would do me no good!

My dear friend,

There's no answer in those bottles
Or those false bravados
There's truth in cliche mottos
But those answers are hollow
Unlike those pills you swallow
Because you're chronically suicidal
With no contrary to guide you
And no lover to confide to
So you'll just cram it all in a note in the hotel room they find you
Now you're only living through all the strangers you were kind to
The family that stood beside you
The hell you dragged their mind through
The lovers you had lied to
The crafts that you had fine tuned
The dark past behind you
And whatever state your mind looms now

I have the honor to be your obedient servant,
M. Whit

30 YEARS AGO
*******************­*****

He could no longer smell lead in the air when he opened his eyes. He had somehow survived the war, but couldn't tell how long he had been passed out for. "Long enough I bet" He said to himself on a tone so low, he wondered if he had truly spoken or just imagined it. Doing a quick assessment of his surroundings his heart grew sad. Nothing moved. His friends, his foes... all dead, piled on top of each other.

Oscar slowly moved the weight of his body onto his forearms, trying to get a better view of the carnage that surrounded him. His body hurt quite a lot, but his legs, stretched out before him didn't. Not at all. For a second he allowed himself to smile. He would be able to walk out of there and get help. He moved the bodies that lay on top of his lower body to assess the real damage on his legs but nothing could have prepared him for what he saw. Oscar had lost both legs from the knee down, and rats ate at what was left of his upper leg. He screamed and his eco was heard across the field.

*****************­******

The next time Oscar opened his eyes he lay on a hospital bed. His mother sat next to him, holding his hand; Her small face puffed up from crying.

"My son" She tried to speak further but her tears threaten to drown her.

"Mother" Oscar calmed his voice, trying to comfort the sobbing woman "I am alright" He smiled at her but it did not reach his eyes.

"They say they can fix you" she said rapidly, barely stopping to breathe. "They say they can make you whole again! Give you back your legs, and full function of your body. They even said they can make you stronger. Better. Smarter." She stopped then. Let go of her son's hand, and started to pace the room. "Not that I think you aren't fine as you are" she added.

"They? Who are you talking about mother?

"The doctor. We are in the military hospital. You have been honorably discharged due to the nature of your injuries. If you refuse the deal, you'll be moved to a civilian hospital next week. If you accept, then you'll undergo the enhancement right away."

The door opened, and a  young man walked in. His intelligent, metallic gray eyes scanned the room, till they landed on Oscar.

"Hello Oscar" He paused as if expecting a reply. Upon receiving none, he continued. " I am Michael Black-Hunter"

"Mr. Black-Hunter is the doctor I've been telling you about son" Oscar's eyes met his mother's. He saw hope there.

"Please Ellen, call me Mike"

Oscar cleared his throat. "I'll do it." Startled by the notion that he would not have to do any persuasion that particular day Mike grinned to himself.

"Very good, very good. First things first. I must rid you of any weakness" Mike quickly  snapped his fingers and mumbled in a language unknown to anyone else in the room. A second goes by, then a minute. Suddenly time had lost its grip on Oscar and Ellen.

"Ellen dear" Mike approached the woman, turned her body to face Oscar "Can you tell me who the gentleman on the hospital bed is?"

Ellen seem puzzled by the question, but she replied regardless. "Mr. Black-Hunter why do you mock me? You are well aware I do not know this man."

"And you Oscar? Who is Ellen to you?"

Oscar made an impatient sound. "I have no time for this Mike, the woman said we don't know each other!"

"How perfect." Pleased with his work, Michael Black-Hunter walked a confused Ellen out of the hospital room.

******************­******
                                        PRESENT DAY

Brooke faced Oscar. Anger radiated from her tiny frame like angry ocean waves during a storm.

"I don't need you. I can do this on my own, I always have." Brooke proceeded to step away from Mike, unaware of a new agent charging with intent towards her. Within seconds the agent's knife made contact with Brooke's skull. She collapsed on Oscar's arms.

"I thought she would dodge that" The agent screamed as Oscar held her up by the throat with one hand. "Its part of the training to go against one of the best, you know that." Tears fell from her eyes but Oscar could not find a **** to give. He broke the agents neck. Her name tag fell from her breast at the same time life left her body. Oscar caught the tag in his hand then read the name out loud. 'Ellen' it said. That made him feel funny, but he couldn't be sure why.

"You failed" Oscar dumped her body on the ground. Then carried Brooke inside to get patched up. "You can't die Brooke. I actually need you" He whispered to her passed out form. After dropping her off with the nurse he went back outside to light the cigarette he had been craving. The new agent's body was gone.




to be continued....