Souls of Pier 35

By Rajah E Smart

When perplexed or depressed, there is a place where human beings go to escape. Many have chosen to escape to the infamous Pier 35 or what is commonly known as death row. The pier is used by storytellers as a symbol of sadness, depression, fear, bad omens, and often associated with the resting place for souls of the desolate, heartbroken, and fool hearty thrill seekers. Those who believe in the legend stay far away or venture there to join those who are known as the Souls of Pier 35.

Its the Fall of 2014 in Seattle, Washington; a middle aged man sits on the edge of the aged Pier 35 staring at a small branch floating in the Puget Sound. Hes there to take in the beauty of it all while waiting for the right moment to take his life. The mans life is turned upside down when the loss and pain of a loved one finally sends him into despair. The journey of this character is similar to Janies journey from Their Eyes were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston with similarities to The Runaways by V.C. Andrews.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: May 1, 2014
• ISBN: 9781496907844

Rajah E Smart

Rajah E. Smart was born and raised in Flint, Michigan. Mr. Smart has been an educator for over 15 years before turning to writing. As a child, all he and his family had for entertainment was their imagination, as well as a frequent trip to the library for a good book. Rajah has been developing his writing since 2002. His titles include All in Love is Fair (fiction, 2006), Sinners have a Soul Too (fiction, 2008), Clarity of Absence (fiction, 2009), You Were There (fiction, 2010), and Black Rain (fiction, 2012), and Souls of Pier 35 (fiction, 2014). The novels are written from a social context. Mr. Smart is socially conscious and believes that WE as people have to be more willing to face the social issues that shape our experiences. He is currently completing his doctorate in Educational Administration from the University of Michigan.

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© 2014 Rajah E. Smart. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or

transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 4/30/2014

ISBN: 978-1-4969-0784-4 (e)

ISBN: 978-1-4969-0785-1 (sc)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014907388

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in

this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views

expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the

views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

Pier 1

Pier 2

Pier 3

Pier 4

Pier 5

Pier 6

Pier 7

Pier 8

Pier 9

Pier 10

Pier 11

Pier 12

Pier 13

Pier 14

Pier 15

Pier 16

Pier 17

Pier 18

Pier 19

Pier 20

Pier 21

Pier 22

Pier 23

Pier 24

Pier 25

Pier 26

Pier 27

Pier 28

Pier 29

Pier 30

Pier 31

Pier 32

Pier 33

Pier 34

Pier 35

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I t’s a scene familiar to him. The softness of the wind once caressed him during brief happy times, building a false sense of security. As the breeze touches his eyes, the tears pour because he’s reminded of the disappointments suffered throughout his life. The cold breeze brushes past his face, feeling like the many slaps, brush-offs, and playful games life has played with him. Pier 35 has always been a place where Alex could collect his thoughts and remind himself that he’s better than his life has written. Sitting on the weathered pier, his eyes notice the many stories the aged wood tells. Voices of workers who have since been laid off, the deaths of joy riders on a bitter night of fun, the death of a young girl who lost her way because her father couldn’t stop abusing her, and the many tears he has shed that helped wear down on the planks of the pier. The cracks in the wood help the splinters lodge themselves into his slacks, while he continues to let his mind race.

The age-old question of what is the meaning of life hovers over his worried mind as it has the many individuals who have graced the pier and successfully stayed by leaving their souls. The pier has taken souls, tears, minds, bodies, and worlds. There’s something simple about this place Alex inhabits every week though. No high level thinking is required, no pressures of pleasing those at work, no expectations to live by, no pain or suffering, needs or judgments. Just the people who have left their thoughts here and the many stories they speak every time the wind blows. As these thoughts run throughout his mind, a small leaf moves effortlessly by, being moved with rhythmic motions of the water. As his legs dangle from the pier, he wishes he could tap the leaf with the toe of his shoe, but it continues to float forward. How come I can’t be like that? He asks himself.

The tone of the voices begins to change as the night overtakes the day, changing his thoughts to the next day. He hates to leave all of his friends behind, but they weren’t very talkative today. Probably because he knows that they have helped him as much as possible. The voices make their mistakes clear in the fact that they are still located at the pier. For all intensive purposes, Alex has a somewhat supportive network of friends that tries to reach out, but doesn’t know how. He could never understand why people would take their own lives; but, on this day, he finally understands. Nothing prevents him from making the decision to join those who left themselves at this pier. Why is he here today? There is no place else that will move the cloud, which has destroyed him physically and mentally. Images of the many tragedies, selfish acts against him, and the loss of reality dominate his thoughts.

The echoing of the phrase internalize your problems stays with him constantly. Alex internalizes the eulogy he spent so much time thinking about. Every single day is a struggle as he internalizes the death of a spirit. After his final brush with God, and the many other tragedies in his life, there’s nothing left inside of him. The one person who did understand met her end by the hands of a man using text while driving his truck. His best friend, spiritual twin, and the one person he considered his air left him behind. So many feelings flow through his mind as he ponders the course of life without her and the images of her, as his eyes gaze at the picture sitting on the weather battered plank to his left. Her life was a story of perseverance, struggle, disappointments, and triumphs. All the while, Alex stood by her side through it all, faithful until the end that came too soon. Who is he without her is a question that Alex doesn’t want to answer, but he did face the question once, and came out beaten.

The gulls call to one another as boats in the distance continue with their work of the evening. As the hours in the day progressed, the image of her auburn eyes gazing in his direction, the dimensions of her lips moving while she tells those horrible jokes of hers, the way the middle of her forehead crinkled up when she was frustrated, and the dramatic way she laughed as they talked about her are climbing deep within his soul. Now that she’s gone, Alex truly understands the meaning of not taking life for granted; yet, he doesn’t have what it takes to continue. Never is there a day that goes by that he doesn’t enjoy the wind as it glides across his frame, the smell of the fresh air, the sounds of the water moving and trees shimmering. As the words cover his mind, he realizes this is his way of externalizing the hurt and frustrations her death causes. He carries her spirit with him but it doesn’t stop him from going into a deeper depression. The last time they spoke, before she left for work, he had her laughing about something, but doesn’t remember what. On his way to work, he called her and talked, as they normally did. Receiving a call from a co-worker, the last words he uttered to her were I’ll call you later. Can he ever escape the guilt with never completing a simple act as picking up the phone and calling her back? She knew he loved her deeply; probably as much as a man can, but that still doesn’t alleviate or lessen the guilt felt inside. The images are so vivid that they seem as if they really occurred in some past life. The words she uttered to him every single moment his mind took a turn towards frustration were, If you don’t open the blinds, the sun won’t shine in. The phrase in itself isn’t poetic, nor is it profound; yet, it settles a tired and frustrated soul. The body that his eyes witnessed is a shell of the woman he loves. It’s her soul and inspiration that he’ll miss the most. These things are evident in the thoughts he has for her and the love they shared throughout. He speaks aloud, as the waves beneath the pier accentuate his thoughts.

I stare into the sky waiting on answer as to why…why would you do this to me? Why would you take the only person that matters to me in this world? Nothing about this is fair or just. You have taken the last thing from me you’re gonna take. I’ve had enough so I give back to you your gift of life! This is the last conversation he will have with God for reasons only clear to him. God is to blame for continuously destroying his life and no one can tell him any different. Alex then decides to join those who left their souls at pier 35, but he can’t help but reminisce before he takes his own life. He thinks about the things that have carried him here; the path he chose that drives him to this place in life. The dark water becomes a screen as he can see images of the past in the water. Alex reaches out to touch those images and see where he went wrong. Suddenly, Alex postpones his date with God in order to reflect on his life more.

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I n a small town outside Portland, Oregon, the night seems to change as he gazes into the sky focusing on a lone star that dimly burns over his burdened mind. The badly beaten steps of the porch out back look dreary as the poor lighting from the old outside light fights to stay bright. The small insects fly around the light, seeking the brightness and heat from the dingy and faded bulb. Crickets move about on this cool summer night, taking advantage of the beauty of Earth’s pleasures. They are at it again, he thinks, regarding the yelling and thumping inside the house. The palms of his hands covering his ears fight to drown out the constant noises that seem to rage day in and day out in this small home. Rhonda, his aunt, tries to regain some sense of pride and stand up for herself against Josh, the cliché drug using and abusing boyfriend. At least that’s what many people believe him to be when he’s not yelling at her. He tries to focus on what’s good in this world by talking to God. What did I do to deserve this? I thought I was doing everything the right way, but you still punish me over and over again. Yeah, making me stronger is cool and all, but sometimes I don’t wanna be strong. The sounds of pots and pans from the kitchen make music with the walls and the floor, playing the song entitled she’s tired of getting abused by this man. Wasn’t really much of an issue until she found out Josh was messing around with Barbara, some poor forgotten lady that’s been through just about every man or woman in the area who has a pulse. Her teeth are two shades dimmer than the average person’s teeth, and she’s about as thick as a rake. However, she will give her body to the nearest gent or gentress if given the opportunity to score from it. Alex sits upon the porch wondering why she would take so much abuse for so long, but only grow upset once she found out he cheated on her. What sense does that make? He’s been treating you like dirt since you met em’ and now it’s a problem. Women, they can really confuse even themselves. You can whip my tail, but you not gonna cheat on me, he thinks to himself.

Alex stretches his eyes out as far as possible to see a place far away from this. He has about 220 dollars in his room, which isn’t really a room, but a big closet in the attic. Staying there with his aunt, Alex knows she really didn’t want him like a family member should, but that’s an expectation of family as seen on television. Because of the constant prison cycle of Paul, his dad, the court gave the aunt custody. Alex hasn’t seen him in about five years. The last time they talked, Paul said, Boy, you got 20 bucks I can get so I can pick up some beer? Those are the last words his father ever spoke to him before he got in a red and rusty station wagon with some new girl he had at the time. The back of his head and the dust rising from the back of the car as they drove away is the only image of Paul embedded in his mind. His mother passed away because of a drug overdose, so Alex has always been alone in a sense, but it doesn’t bother him. At least that’s what he tells himself to avoid thinking about his parents.

Outside he can still hear the groans, the screams, the yells and the constant denial from both parties. Suddenly, Josh comes storming out of the door with Rhonda not too far behind him. The angry couple stands right over Alex as they argue back and forth about one another’s transgressions. She doesn’t take care of herself anymore, and is getting fat, whereas he is lazy, shiftless, and his feet smell like cow manure. Insults continue to be traded back and forth as they spray Alex with spit from their mouths from the yelling. The information they are sharing in front of Alex is too much, as he covers his ears to avoid hearing how he gave her gonorrhea, and she gave him an infection. It’s all so typical for Alex though. He knows this will soon be over and he’ll be left on the porch to continue his own thoughts about life. Josh begins pointing his finger rapidly at Rhonda, as his small frame moves frantically while pointing. With his disheveled brown hair, he continues to play the blame game. Barely having his boots tied, the accusations of her infidelity swarm like angry bees. He knows they are untrue, but it’s his way of throwing it back at Rhonda to keep the heat off. With his shirt open displaying the matted hair on his chest, and the faded blue jeans, he plays the part of the druggy alcoholic boyfriend well. Slurring his words and spitting through that missing front tooth, he can’t see Alex.

Josh stumbles down off the bottom step and turns to run to his orange and white truck, of which he painted himself. Rhonda throws shoes like targeted projectiles from the porch after his accusations to cause bodily harm, but misses each time. It’s easy for Josh to find the orange truck. Alex always thought that he was on drugs when he painted the truck. No person in their right mind would paint their truck orange and white to look like their favorite popsicle. Josh is a drug addict, so it’s safe to assume that he might have thought he was a popsicle when he painted the truck. The truck’s back wheels turn fiercely, while the rocks fly through the air from the dirt, as Josh barrels out of the yard. There isn’t a day where this old farmhouse is quiet. Drama is always in the wind.

Rhonda stands there for a moment, staring into the darkness of night, chilled by the fresh breeze of the night sky. Like a piece of art on exhibit, her frail skinny body and looks of a long life are on display. With her left nostril running, she looks upon Alex, What are you staring at you little bastard. You better make sure all your work is done because I don’t wanna have to clean up after you. It’s bad enough I have to deal with one sorry man, I’ll be damned if I’ll deal with you too. Hopefully you won’t be like your sorry daddy…and pick up those shoes. Rhonda turns quickly in her wrinkled blue housedress, stomps to the door, and slams it after her entry. Alex doesn’t blink while she yells at him from inside. His skin has grown thick from living with her all these years. Her problems always become his problems, so at every chance she takes it out on him. She is never physically abusive, just able to mentally drain him with verbal assault. Alex doesn’t use the word abuse to describe his relationship with his aunt. He feels that people use the word abuse too freely. Although he knows his life could be better, it actually could’ve been worse. "What’s my alternative? Be dead with my prescription and household products drug addict mother or be raised by my drunken overcompensating butthole of a father? Hmmm." When times are rough, this thought will permeate in his mind, thinking about how the alternative to Rhonda would actually be hell on Earth. He receives three meals, a place to sleep, an education, and sometimes a kind word or two. It works out for Rhonda too because she receives a monthly payment for keeping him, as well as claiming him on her taxes. Deep down inside, she cares for Alex, but she cares more for herself than anyone else. At the same time, she likes knowing that there’s someone in the house; however, things are changing soon because he graduated from school yesterday.

On this Saturday, the night sky is his theater and the stars play their part. He realizes how it seems to get darker earlier, as the months move forward. In the distance, he can hear sticks on the ground from the nearby oak tree crack, as if someone is stepping on them. The sound echoes throughout the yard and grows louder. He wearily looks into the distance, curious to who or what could be in the yard. Hey strange guy. Alex looks upon his friend and resident pest, Tonya. Why are you on this porch when you could be somewhere having fun? You’re out of school now. You should be celebrating. Tonya comes over and has a seat next to him on the old creaky porch.

What are you doing out here? Did something happen again? she asks.

Yeah…they were fighting again, but that’s not why I’m really out here.

Okay…so what are you doing out here? You’re acting pretty odd.

We graduated yesterday right?

Yes…

Do you know what you’re gonna do?

Hmm…hadn’t really thought about it. Why? she admits.

Because…I think I wanna get outta here.

NO!! You can’t leave. You just can’t. She’s immediately paranoid about him leaving.

Why Tonya? There’s nothing here anymore. There has got to be more out there than this. Aren’t you tired of being with people who don’t care about you, that threaten you, and make you feel like nothing at every opportunity? Well, I’m tired.

So what…you just gon leave?

I’m thinking about it. If anyone should know how I feel, it’s you. Mrs. Anderson don’t care nothing bout’ you and you know that. She only keeps you around so you can watch them damn kids, Alex says sternly.

Yeah, but it’s security. I can’t believe you tryin’ to leave.

Why are you so upset? I thought you would be happy.

Not if you leaving me! What’s the worse thing that’s ever happened to you here that makes you want to leave? Tonya asks.

What hasn’t happened?

Stop being sarcastic.

I’m not. I just don’t care anymore Ton. He sometimes shortens her name. It’s a name he gave her when they were kids. There has to be something better out there.

Like what? she asks.

I don’t know, but something. Don’t you ever look beyond these roads and beyond these trees and wonder what’s out there?

Tonya’s face crinkles, clearly in thought. No, not really.

Really?

No, she states boldly.

So you’re fine with just this huh? He’s doubtful she believes that.

It’s not that Alex.

Then what is it?

I don’t know anything else but this and you.

Don’t you think of trying? Alex asks.

The unknown is too much for me. This is comfortable for us, so why not go with it?

Us isn’t a factor. I don’t like this anymore. I’m just looking beyond, you know, he boldly states.

I guess.

So you’re content because you don’t know anything else?

I’m content because I have you.

Oh…that makes sense. Didn’t think of it like that, Alex responds.

Well, when you think of what’s important like I do, we may see it the same way.

You know you’re like my little sister. I’m not trying to say you mean nothing to me. This has nothing to do with you personally. It’s more about the future.

Actually, this is more about us than you think. On that note, Tonya rises from the porch and begins to move away from Alex.

Where are you going? Alex shouts.

I don’t know…maybe for a walk.

I didn’t make you angry did I?

Tonya turns to look at Alex slowly with a somewhat somber look on her face. For the first time since we’ve been together, you didn’t include me in your thoughts. Ignore me, maybe I‘m just being sensitive.

It’s not my purpose to hurt you. My words just didn’t come out right.

It’s okay.

Tonya walks away from the porch with tears in her eyes, and runs into the darkness from which she came. Calling to her, his words fall on the dark trees. Tonya! Tonya! You shouldn’t be wandering out here this late! With no response, Alex settles back into his thoughts. He can’t understand her reaction initially, but understands after a while of pondering, that she looks at him as family. They share similar lives as they have grown together, and they have been the only consistency in each other’s lives.

When Alex lost his mother, he became a ward of the state because his father was nowhere to be found. Leaving the confines of the children’s center to be bussed to school, he would run into Tonya often, an awkward 10 year old girl, who lost both of her parents early. Tonya took to Alex as her guardian almost immediately. Both of her parents were killed in a home invasion when she was 4 years old, and she has been in the system since. The gang that invaded her home had the wrong house, and left her alive as she cried under her bed for her parents. It was enough to make her very untrusting of all people. Each day Tonya rode the bus; she would sit in the back, hiding from many of the children, not knowing she was there. On a bleak Monday morning, he saw her in the back of the bus, alone and withdrawn. For no real reason, Alex took it upon himself to look after her by offering some of his breakfast bar. Tonya didn’t eat much in the morning because she was scared to eat with the other kids. On this day, she looked tired, weak, and unwilling to speak, but that breakfast bar broke the wall she had up. Hunger has a way of speaking for you as her stomach let out a grrr. Forgetting that he was saving the bar for later, he opened it and handed it to Tonya. She still didn’t say much, but that didn’t stop him from talking about the comic books he had in his Trapper Keeper. No one ever listens to him, so she was perfect for him to talk to. Everyone avoided her, so she was glad someone was talking to her. Being only a few months older than her, Alex looked at her as his little sister from the beginning because he always wanted one. That day, she was locked to his side as they exited the bus. At lunch, she sat with him and after school he waited for her to come out. Seeing him, she rushed to him immediately. On that ride to and from school, they formed a relationship that would offer them protection from others and themselves.

Through the years, Tonya was shipped from three houses before she ended with Mrs. Anderson, a foster care thief who used the kids to gain the money. Being that Tonya is the oldest, she takes care of all the children in the house while Mrs. Anderson comes and goes as she pleases. Sometimes, Alex will go over and help her monitor the children. Now that she’s older, she’s still an awkward teen with her granny clothes, and long frizzy hair. Her light colored skin is smooth and almost flawless. Frequently at school with Alex, many of the children thought they were related. There were even days when he truly acted as her protector. Once he beat a boy fiercely for slapping her and calling her names. It was actually a boyfriend that didn’t like that she was talking to him, so he became violent. Tonya came to Alex and told him what happened; that was that for him. He beat the boy so bad that he urinated on himself. That’s a beating if it makes you pee your pants. After a while, it was known that no one mess with her, just out of respect for him wanting to protect his sister. It is believable they are related because of their similar features.

Thinking cautiously about his decision and reflecting on his relationship with Tonya, his eyelids begin to blink frequently. The calmness and quiet is putting him to sleep. In the morning, he has many decisions to make. He doesn’t know how his aunt will respond to him leaving this country area and going to the city to see if he can make something of himself. He also doesn’t know how to work around leaving Tonya. A huge part of him wants her to go as well, but knows she will say no. Besides, he feels a little safer with her living outside the city because of the rumors of hard living in the city. He knows that he needs her as much as she needs him, but this is a chance to make a better life for them both, like the one’s he has read in books. With so much on his mind, Alex decides to call it a night. Walking inside the house, he notices how disheveled everything is because of the knock down drag out fight. Before going to bed, Alex cleans up the entire kitchen because he will have to do it in the morning if left unclean. He also remembered to go back outside and gather the shoes thrown. Walking back inside, he locks the doors and looks around the kitchen once more before going upstairs.

The television upstairs is blasting at full volume, which means Rhonda is asleep. Like clockwork, Alex cleans up after her and goes to her bedroom. There, she lies sprawled across the bed, with her foot hanging off the side. The dingy yellow slipper is dangling from her skinny foot. Alex removes her slippers, places her leg under the covers, and tucks her in softly. She’s watching a popular gospel show hosted by a pastor who believes he really is Jesus, but cusses like a sailor, and dresses like a fool. Rhonda is a religious individual and has spent much of her time praying to find the man of her dreams. Alex never cares why her prayers are never answered because he’s too concerned about his own prayers going unanswered. Alex shut off the television and tosses the remote upon the bed. Staring around the room, there is something different about it. He looks upon the photos she has hanging differently, noticing that none of them are of him. It puts a new spin on his final thoughts of whether to stay or go. All these years, he has been a janitor, a cook, a mechanic, and whatever other title Rhonda wants to give him. Walking gingerly out of the room, preventing the floorboards from creaking, Alex walks down the long hallway, past the bedrooms, to the attic door. The wooden stairs are ascended and the sound of their age speaks to Alex like an old storyteller. The spider webs along the wooden planks move effortlessly as he passes, even though he just cleaned them from the walls last week. Once at the top of the stairs, Alex has to maneuver through the old sewing dummies, clothes, pictures, and the many forgotten items stored. For Alex, it’s pretty ironic that he shares space with forgotten things. Shutting his door, Alex removes his clothing, puts on his long shorts and a white t-shirt, climbs in the bed and remembers how thankful he is to be alive. His aunt doesn’t physically abuse him, but he wonders what it would be like to be loved by someone. With this thought running through his mind, Alex falls off to sleep, hopeful for a better tomorrow.

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T he morning begins with the birds singing to one another. Along with the sounds of birds, Alex can hear little pelts against the attic vent prompting him to rise and stand in the bed to gaze out the attic slits. There she is, his friend and sister tossing pebbles as high as she can to gain his attention. Alex jumps out of the bed and runs down to the back door as quickly as possible so Tonya doesn’t wake his aunt.

What are you doing here this early?

I came to talk to you about you leaving, she responds.

I don’t know if I’m leaving yet girl.

Well hurry up and put on some clothes so we can talk.

Do you know what time it is?

Yeah, so hurry up before I have to get back. Tonya runs to the tree swing that they made years ago and waits for Alex. He hurries to the bathroom to wash and brush his teeth. All is silent within the house, and he knows that his aunt will sleep late because of what happened the night before. She always sleeps late when she argues with Josh.

Walking outside, the high humidity is the first thing to greet Alex. The temperature is a sweltering 84 degrees already. The sun is shining, drying up the night’s rainfall. Tonya is out on the old swing waiting for Alex, who runs to her to see what’s on her mind.

Okay, I’m here. This better be important this early in the morning. Did something happen at the house? He emphatically states.

No silly…I was thinking about what you said.

And?

You’re right. There’s nothing here, so it would be better to leave.

What made you come to that conclusion? Yesterday you damn near tore my head off, Alex reminds.

Can’t a woman change her mind?

That’s the problem with women. They’re always changing their minds.

Okay…I’m gonna forget you just said that, she says.

Or what…you gonna talk me to death. She looks at him and begins to pout, obviously hurt by what he said. Oh no, wait…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.

Yeah, I know sucker. She laughs aloud at him.

You jerk.

You’re just mad that I got you. Anyway, you should go Alex.

"I don’t understand. Now