Finding Felicity

By Thomas Biehl

Passed over for a promotion at work, Devin wonders if his life has meaning; will he ever find that elusive happiness human beings all seek. While at a party attempting to drown his sorrows, the host suffers a tragic accident. Moments later, Devin meets the beautiful and mysterious Felicity, who somehow knows this dead man’s tale. Felicity offers to share with him the whirlwind romance of Professor Ardor, who gets lost in the deceptive perfection of escapism. Using this and subsequent allusive stories, Devin’s interactions with this enigmatic woman help him uncover the faulty ways people search for happiness, when the feelings they find are fleeting. Only then, can he discover genuine happiness and bring lasting meaning to his life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Thomas Biehl
• Release date: Apr 30, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463269107

Thomas Biehl

Writer, teacher, parent, and petty dabbler in theoretical physics, metaphysical philosophy, and abnormal psychology

Book preview

Finding Felicity

By Thomas Biehl

Copyright 2015 Thomas Biehl

Smashwords Edition

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Cover Photography Copyright 2013 Ove Ilsøe

For Miranda

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty Two

Chapter Twenty Three

Chapter Twenty Four

Chapter Twenty Five

Chapter Twenty Six

Chapter Twenty Seven

About the Author

Prologue

The twelve hour shift over, fatigue loomed at edge of Second Lieutenant McKay’s senses. Muscles ached, thoughts wandered; she felt like death. Still, the events of the day swirling around in her head would not let her simply lie down and close her eyes. Knowing sleep would elude her for some time; McKay found her feet leading her towards one of the wards she had been working in earlier that day, so she could sit with some of the wounded. Allied Forces had only been on the beach a matter of weeks, but when McKay strode through the camp she barely took notice of the rough sand beneath her feet, the salty sea breeze in the air, and the rolling sound of the not too distant ocean. Still, for what must have been the hundredth time, she thought about how this would have been a nice place to visit, before the war.

Ward one – like its counterparts – was devastatingly unimpressive, a dark dugout building surrounded by earth and topped with a canvas tent roof. On the interior, cots containing wounded soldiers lined each side. The scent of sterile cleanliness had been overtaken by the stench of putrid flesh and bedridden bodies. The only light came from a string of bulbs hanging along the center of the long impromptu building. It was a dismal sight, but one that had become common for the nurse. McKay walked among the beds full of groaning or unconscious men until she came to a wounded soldier who had worn a melancholy faraway expression at rounds that morning, a private Talbot.

The private had a bandage wrapped around his head where a piece of shrapnel had grazed him and one around his left thigh where a bullet had had better accuracy. Despite the wrapping, his shadowy hazel eyes, ski slope nose, pronounced chin, and some of his dark hair remained visible. When McKay arrived at his side, a letter captivated Talbot’s attention. From the way he gradually took in each line, it looked as though he was rereading it. McKay pulled up a folding chair and feared the worse. She asked, dear John letter?

No, said Talbot, turning his attention to her, quite the opposite.

Then why do you look so sad?

It’s from my girl back home. She writes about how everything is going in the States and how well everyone is doing; she talks about how much she misses me, loves me, and about how happy we will be together when I get back home.

What’s so bad about that?

I don’t know if I can ever be happy again, Talbot said gravely, feeling lost and alone. Even though it had only happened a week and a half ago, McKay already knew the story; everyone did. Talbot had been part of the two Ranger divisions that were going to sneak behind the German lines and take a town there. The intelligence concerning the enemy had been incorrect, and they were soon surrounded. The resulting battle lasted for the better part of a day. When the dust settled, only a few men from the original force returned to camp, Talbot was one of them. McKay couldn’t even begin to imagine what he had been through.

Your mind, like your body, will heal in time, McKay said, was all that she could think to say.

How can I forget… he trailed off. Eventually, Talbot went on to describe the horrors of war he had experienced. McKay let Talbot unburden himself like she had done so many times already with other patients. Unsure how to respond, she didn’t think the mixture of being cheerful and flirty she used with the other soldiers would work this time. Somehow she muddled her way through the conversation with sincerity and conviction. It took time, but she managed to convince Talbot there was light at the end of the tunnel. One day, he would be happy.

His mood brightened somewhat. They moved on to talking about his girl and what he wanted to do when he got home. When conversation shifted to McKay, her life and what she had outside of the war, a loud explosion interrupted them. Bombing had become a common sound to be heard at the camp lately, but this one had boomed much closer than usual. The nurse in charge of the ward started ordering patients to get on the floor beneath their cots. Talbot had trouble moving with his wounded leg, so McKay helped him off his cot and onto the floor. Another boom exploded; this time so close and loud, it deafened the occupants of the ward. Before McKay could take cover herself, a jagged piece of metal tore through the canvas of the tent and ended her life.

Chapter One

The world, it seemed, had forgotten about Devin, or perhaps it was quite the other way around. Either way, he didn’t really care. Devin wanted a break from it all, not simply from work or his girlfriend, but from life. Not knowing exactly what that meant, he sat there and attempted to do so. Looking around for an answer, Devin took notice of the bare yellowish walls of his apartment. He had always intended to hang a piece of his life on those walls, a picture, an achievement, or even a quote that in some small way defined him, but he had never done so. Below the ominous blank spot, Devin caught sight of his reflection in the flat screen television. The image stared back at him with searching deep blue eyes lost in an ocean of uncertainty. A mess of auburn hair styled to appear chaotic covered his head. If that other Devin knew any secrets, he wasn’t talking.

Devin was happy, wasn’t he? Having to ask himself that question gave him an answer. How long had he been this way? He didn’t know. Recently, Devin had gone for a promotion at his advertising firm, and earlier that day, his boss had given him the bad news. The fact he didn’t get it wasn’t what had shaken him; it was that he didn’t really care he hadn’t gotten it. Devin initially reacted with mild injustice and outrage, but then he wondered why it upset him so much. Being an office manager would have meant a move up, a larger paycheck, which Devin had thought he wanted. Then, Devin realized he didn’t actually care that much about ascending to the next rung of the corporate ladder. He had once thought the promotion worth striving for, but somehow that felt hollow and empty now.

His girlfriend, Crystal, had been excited about the promotion. Maybe him getting it meant a lot to her; being an office manager would have made him more in her eyes. She would have loved him more and their relationship could grow stronger. They had been dating for over three months now and were starting to get that underlying uneasiness, questioning where the relationship was going. Was she the one? Devin didn’t know and wasn’t sure how to find out, either. Would she be upset about the promotion, get disgusted and leave him? Then the question that had plagued him all afternoon resurfaced, did it even matter?

Gaining the position went from being a goal in his life to just another meaningless step in a race he no longer knew why he was running. What did it matter if he didn’t get the promotion? He would still go to work on Monday in the same office with the same people. What if his girlfriend did get mad, break up with him, and call him a loser? Crystal, though a pleasant person and fun to be around, had her flaws; at times she was clingy and possessive. Devin did care about her, but at that moment life without her seemed little different from life with her. There were plenty of other fish in the sea. Did he want to go fishing? Was he getting lost in his own metaphor?

There was something wrong with him, that much he knew for sure. Devin searchingly examined the face in the flat screen’s reflection once again. The pronounce jaw, brooding eyes, and inexplicable gravitas contributed to what Crystal called his rugged good looks. Devin managed to stay in reasonable shape and maintain a polished appearance. His clothes fit the requirements of a business person with a minimum of style. By all accounts he looked like a normal individual in his late twenties. Didn’t he deserve to be happy, like everyone else?

Before Devin could dwell on the topic any longer, his phone vibrated in his pocket. The text message from Crystal read, Hey babe, want to get dinner before the party? He had forgotten they were supposed to go to some guy’s apartment that night. She had texted him about it over his lunch break. Devin sat there trying to remember the guy’s name. People being loud and drunk, making idle conversation, Devin didn’t think he was up for that.

Devin wanted to sit there and determine where he was going in life. Without the objective of furthering his office career, now a distant memory, he floated lost and adrift in the world. Was his job devoid of meaning or was he just rationalizing it that way? These were the life altering questions he needed to figure out. Without direction and focus he could end up squandering his life away, sitting on this couch, watching TV, spending too much time on the internet, a waste of a human being. How would he ever find happiness that way? A pervading thought won out; despite all of this, he still needed to eat.

Sure, he texted back. Over dinner seemed like as good a time as any to tell Crystal the news and see how she reacted. Then, he would tell her he didn’t feel like going to a party.

Where do you want to go? Crystal texted.

Doesn’t matter, you pick.

How about that new place on 45th, Crossroads, half an hour?

See you there.

After splashing some water on his face and changing out of his work clothes, Devin emerged from his apartment building into the crisp evening of an early spring. The distinctly indistinguishable sounds of the city surrounded him and the sun setting somewhere behind the skyscrapers cast a brilliant fiery backdrop. The thin grayish blue sweater and comfortable jeans he wore kept out most of the chill. Devin signaled a cab and watched the city roll by; listening to one of the latest pop songs he had been hearing a lot lately. He couldn’t quite remember the song’s name. The uplifting tune and lyrics accompanied the deplorably catchy chorus:

Been waiting on the sandman to deliver that dream

But lately seems like fate ain’t been on my team

Don’t think for a minute I’ma give up on it tonight

Still gonna keep up the fight ‘til I see that light

The song was about fulfilling your dreams, and the young singer sounded unbelievably cheerful. Devin couldn’t imagine becoming an office manager being his ultimate dream. The absurdity of such a thought struck him. He envisioned a man sitting behind an enormous empty desk, without any stacks of paperwork or files, grinning from ear to ear, glowing like an Olympian god. A positive sales report projected onto the wall behind him, rising like a mountain peak off the chart. Stacks of money were gripped in his hands. A secretary wearing a black suit coat over revealing lacey red lingerie bent forward handing him a cup of coffee. Hard rock music blared somewhere in the background. Devin smiled at this idealized version of an office manager. If it was really like that, who wouldn’t want the job?

The restaurant, Crossroads, had taken the place of an old department store. The inside had been remodeled, but the exterior still reminded him of a store front with its large display windows. Inside people talked, laughed, enjoyed life, or at least appeared as if they were. Crystal had yet to arrive and with a thirty minute wait for a table, he took a seat at the bar. Drinking a cold beer, trying to stay positive and attempting not to overhear the conversation of those around him ate up some of that time.

An elderly man across the bar caught Devin’s attention. He sat by himself drinking a glass of beer. The wrinkles on his face, the thinning white hair, the clothing that had been purchased decades ago; this man had definitely advanced into the later years of life. The man simply stared at his drink lost in thought. Then, he smiled. Realizing he was being watched, the old man looked up to meet Devin’s gaze. He briefly paused, then continued his tired but genuine smile. The old man lifted his drink in a gesture of salute. Devin did the same and wondered what they were toasting to, health, life, a working prostate. The old man nodded his head and took a drink. Devin mirrored the gesture. The old man appeared content in his quiet way, happy even, and Devin considered going over to ask him his secret.

Hey, stranger, Crystal said, sitting on the stool next to him. Auburn hair streaked blond here and there fell straight to her neck line. The red dress she wore gave away enough to let the imagination do the rest. Devin realized he hadn’t taken the time lately to notice how striking she was.

Hey, babe, replied Devin. He looked back across the bar, but the old man was gone.

How was work? she asked, hinting about the promotion.

It was good, I…

Dubietman, party of two, the hostess interrupted.

The couple sat at the table, ordered drinks, and looked at the menus. Feeling particularly unadventurous, Devin decided on the restaurant’s version of a cheeseburger. Idle conversation reigned between the couple until the waitress wrote down their choices and once again left the table. Instead of repeating her question, Crystal shot him an enquiring glance.

I didn’t get the job, Devin said.

Oh babe, I’m sorry, Crystal said, seeming genuinely concerned for him.

It’s alright. I’m actually not that broken up about it.

Really, I thought you wanted to be the new office manager.

So did I.

Are you going to go for it the next time a position opens up?

I don’t know. I don’t think so.

Is everything okay?

Yeah, I’m good, Devin lied. Crystal could see Devin’s uneasiness, but figuring he didn’t want to talk about it, she changed the subject to her day. She worked at an art gallery in the evening and took grad school courses at a local university by day. The conversation drifted from the customers she had the previous night to her classes that day. While the food came and they ate, Devin listened and made comments here and there trying his best to appear like a boyfriend focused intently on what his girlfriend said. Some of the talk about her classes actually managed to divert attention away from his thoughts. Initially, her interest in philosophy had been what drew them together.

The previous summer she had been interning at his office to pay off some of her college debt and get what she had called ‘life experience.’ They first met when Devin noticed her reading a book on moral philosophy he had read for an undergraduate class. She smiled at him, and he thought her librarian glasses and hair in a bun irresistibly cute. Unable to think of a witty line to say, he had simply introduced himself and asked about the book. It turned out to be for an Intro to Philosophy class she planned on teaching in the fall as a grad student. They talked about the book and what his professor had done with it. Over the course of the summer, they struck up conversations a few more times and even began flirting. When they met by coincidence months later, he had asked her out and they started dating.

Usually when they were together the couple had a lot to talk about, but at the moment Devin wasn’t really in a talkative mood. Originally, when Devin went to college he had many majors and minors, one of which had been philosophy. He had chosen to take his own Intro to Philosophy class at eight in the morning, and consequently had slept through most of it. By the end of his sophomore year, he had decided to be more practical and finally switch his major to business administration with a minor in communications. Devin had realized philosophy had been a topic he found interesting, but at the time he didn’t think had any real world application. One of those topics he read about, went ‘huh’, and then went about his day. Now, he was beginning to think he had missed out on some eternal truth.

It wasn’t until Crystal got to the discussion in her graduate class that she caught Devin’s full attention. She said, … one of the guys started quoting Nietzsche about the futility of life or something. I don’t even think he knew what he was talking about. The guy was just trying to sound smart. You know the type, trying to correct the professor with an air of self-importance. At first Devin smiled at her hypocrisy, because she often talked about doing that herself. Then, he realized what she had said intrigued him.

The futility of life? Devin questioned.

As I was saying, the professor was asking us about the validity of the ancient Greek ideal of the cultivation of self over a lifetime. The counter argument Mr. I’m-so-much-smarter-than-you came up with was basically that life was meaningless, so why better himself if the end result is the same for everyone. Well, I told him, ‘If life is so pointless and there is no reason to better yourself, then why are you even in grad school?’ He didn’t have anything to say to that.

I bet not, Devin said. The idea that everyone dies so why worry about developing or improving oneself, bleak as it was, definitely would justify his current mood. Nevertheless, life being entirely meaningless, the concept somehow rubbed Devin the wrong way. It made sense, but the idea just didn’t sound or feel quite right to him. Devin asked, What do you think about that?

About what?

Life not having any meaning.

Well, the way I understand them, Nietzsche’s writings were essentially against organized religion. They may have served a purpose in his time, but now I think they are just used as pseudo-intellectual nonsense by people who think they are above everything, life included, Crystal said. Devin thought about her statement, wondering if it applied to him. Had he somehow outgrown life? He didn’t think so. Then, Devin realized Crystal hadn’t answered his question.

So you think believing live is meaningless is what, outdated?

Well, Laura, the girl I told you about, she likes Nietzsche and is somewhat of a nihilist. At that last word, Crystal paused to watch for that satisfying look of confusion on Devin’s face when she knew something he didn’t. Her self-important gratification received, she proceeded to explain it to him, trying her best not to sound condescending. Nihilism is the belief that everything is meaningless – values, achievements, human connections; they’re all simply a bunch of bullshit we make up to feel better about our own miserable existence.

Devin stared at Crystal for a while, trying to process what she had said. A part of him wanted to believe in this Nihilism. That part felt like he was a little kid again and she had just told him there was no Santa Claus. That part of him wanted to be nothing, because being something might prove to be the wrong move, and a huge mistake. A different part of Devin, one he didn’t know he had, spoke up, screaming in his head that he could never prefer being nothing to being something, something which let him look at his life and be happy about it. Embracing nothingness was tempting, so tempting, but deep down Devin knew it wasn’t the kind of thing he could accept. Instead, Devin said, Your friend actually believes that?

Well, not in the traditional sense, no.

So, then what does she believe?

That one day life is going to end for all of us, and she doesn’t want to live under anyone else’s definition of what is meaningful but her own. For example, she did poorly on a test a few weeks ago, but didn’t seem all that concerned. When I asked her about it, she said that the night before she had found it more meaningful to drink with her friends than to study. Laura…

Yolo, Devin interrupted Crystal. You mean she believes in Yolo. Devin laughed. He couldn’t help but find the idea hilariously funny, someone using so much philosophy and big words to excuse such a lifestyle. He began to think Crystal and this Laura girl might have misread the Nietzsche guy, or perhaps simply read into his ideas what they wanted to.

What’s Yolo? Crystal asked.

You only live once, then came Devin’s turn to pause and enjoy the look of confusion on Crystal’s face. It’s this idea that’s been in rap music and popular culture for a while; you’re only going to live once so you should enjoy life and take risks, but mostly it seems like people use it to justify the stupid decisions they’ve made without taking any responsibility for their actions.

That doesn’t sound like Laura.

Why not?

Well, Nietzsche believed life kept recurring over and over again, so the exact opposite of only living once. However…

What?

He did use his believes to advocate freedom from morality, Crystal said. Freedom from morality sounded to Devin like an idea that could only end in anarchy and chaos. The whole idea reminded him of people who acted like they didn’t have any sense and then shouted Yolo. Devin wondered how a philosopher could have believed such a thing and once again if Crystal had gotten it right.

So this Laura, does she believe in freedom from morality?

Possibly, Crystal said, obviously tiring of the topic, but if you want to debate it further, she and a few other people from that class will probably be at the party tonight. They had been finished with dinner for a few minutes and the waitress had placed the bill next to Devin on the table.

About the party, Devin said.

"You don’t want