BACKGROUND:
FULL NAME: ARNOLD P.HAINSWORTH. (THE P REMAINS UNTOLD)
BIRTHDAY: DECEMBER 2ND, 1981. (SAME DAY AS BRITNEY SPEARS)
BIRTHPLACE: LONDON, ONTARIO.
CURRENT LOCATION: MY IMAGINATION.
HERITAGE: FRENCH CANADIAN MOM, BRITISH FATHER.
EYE/HAIR COLOUR: BLONDE HAIR, BROWN EYES.
RIGHTY OR LEFTY: RIGHT HANDED.
MAJOR STRENGTH: INCREDIBLY ORGANIZED AND PUNCTUAL.
MAJOR WEAKNESS: INCREDIBLY EMOTIONLESS (ON THE OUTSIDE) OBSESSIVE COMPULSIVE.
FEARS: LACK OF ORDER, GRANDMA LOU, CHANGE
LIFE GOAL: TO MARRY AND PRODUCE AN EVEN NUMBER OF OFFSPRING.
DREAM PROFESSION: NEWS ANCHOR
ACTUAL PROFESSION: TEACHER ON CALL
FAVORITE MEAL: MEAT LOAF
COFFEE DRINKER: IN GROSS AMOUNTS
FAVORITE ALCHOHOLIC BERVERAGE: ORANGE CREAMCICLE BACARDI BREEZERS. (TOUGH GUY, LOL)
HAS CHARACTER BEEN IN LOVE? : ONCE, SIGH.
IS CHARACTER ATTRACTIVE? : MORESO THAN HE THINKS.
DO THEY THINK THEY’RE ATTRACTIVE? NO, LACK OF CONFIDENCE.
HEALTHY HABITS: VERY ORGANIZED, RARLEY LATE
UNHEALTHY HABITS: SLEEP DEPRAVATION FROM STRESS.
FAVORITE MOVIE: LOGAN’S RUN.
VICES: VERY PICKY EATER, CONTROL FREAK
TATTOOS/PIERCINGS: NONE, FAR TOO ORDERLY FOR THAT.
NUMBER 1 REGRET: NOT ACTING ON HIS LAST LOVE… SIGH.
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Arnold was one of those teachers on call that any self respecting student wouldn’t give a hard time. He was a lean, mean and highly efficient machine. So efficient, in fact, that he had a cleverly organized place for all of his on-call teaching utensils: his briefcase.
This briefcase defied all that is human nature. It contained objects organized on a level not yet decoded by briefcase specialists. Arnold P. Hainsworth meant business, and he kept that business neatly locked away in alphabetical and chronological orders.
There was a place for anything and everything in his briefcase. He had what appeared to be hundreds, if not thousands of pale white papers tucked neatly into crisp leather pockets. Endless rows of those pockets lined the cases hairless interior.
They had neatly printed labels.
They contained neatly printed papers.
The papers read neatly printed printing.
Arnold P. Hainsworth was just a neatly printed guy.
He never wore colourful neck ties. Always shades of grey, black or white. Occasionally navy blue, or, something of a striped or herringbone origin. Perhaps this was because he feared spilling coffee on himself, as he was easily stressed and often jittery. Coffee spillage had become somewhat of a trend.
One Christmas, a few years prior to present day, Arnold received a beautiful tie from an equally beautiful girl. That statement may make this particular girl sound only as appealing as a playful tie, but in reality, she was, but she was indeed a beautiful girl. And if there must be a comparison, it may as well be to the tie that tore Arnold from their relationship. This tie was as wildly patterned as she was. And the colours were vibrant and bold. She knew that this modern and artistically inspired item would be a step out of Arnold’s direction, but the man needed change. As a man who feared change, this tie was enough to sever his ties with Sunshine.
No, really. That was her name. Her parents were hippies.
Sunshine was quite literally the only light in Arnold’s cup of black and luke warm coffee life. And she has been out of the bland and boring picture for going on three years now.
It was that tie.
That’s what Arnold thought anyways.
It was that tie that caused him to flee as he did.
It made him leave her.
He let a stupid tie break his only relationship in half,
preferably equal halves.
Arnold missed her.
And he had to see that brightly coloured and busily patterned necktie every morning when setting foot in his closet. He just couldn’t bring himself to throw it away, however. That would make the number of ties he owned uneven.
And Arnold just couldn’t live with that.
Today, Arnold let his mind wander, and it brought him to miss Sunshine more than ever. Painted pictures in his mind played back like a movie he had seen a thousand times. Memories clouded his mind and made him dream of her more than he ever wanted to. It was something he could not escape. Arnold craved structure, and this was his anchor to the real world and all of his emotional stress. With these picture perfect memories dancing around in his head all day, he was denying himself the structure he needed. Coping with beautiful memories was not a simple task for Arnold. He had to erase them to move on. He just plain and simple had to move on. Erasing them was another task.
He wished she could be with him again. He wished she were here on his bleak drive to work. Life lost its lustre without her. Although he missed her, it was probably best for Arnold to be alone. As usual, it was more efficient that way.
He drove down the sopping and disgustingly dirty highway. The road looked as it always did. Black concrete, typically even yellow lines and a wet horizon. Water sprayed across the windshield. It made the world look more dismal than ever. For Arnold, that was probably the cherry on top to a fantastic day ahead of him. The monstrous industrial moving truck in front of him was spitting a gritty mess of dirt and muddy sediment at his face, full speed.
To avoid any further conflict,
He changed lanes.
It was December 2nd, 2007. This was Arnold’s birthday. He was turning an uneven number again, this year. Twenty-seven.
His day had become a boring and orderly series of unfortunate events.
Upon Arnold’s arrival in Langley, at the school he was called in to teach at this particular morning, he noticed he missed a spot shaving. A sense of immediate failure felt like a slap across his poorly shaven face. His sandpaper complexion was generally clean and smooth, as Arnold was generally a clean shaven gentleman. But today, he had what appeared to be a Hitler style moustache, in an overly noticeable and almost Mexican way. This added to the drama that was his birthday. This brought him close to tears, which was a lot for someone who couldn’t bring himself to cry over anything else. Arnold held it back, without the slightest sign of defeat; as he usually did.
The previous alone could have been what ruined his birthday, but in reality, his birthday had already been ruined. It was ruined before he even woke up.
Arnold had a dream about Sunshine. A dream that could technically be classified as a nightmare. Arnold often dreamed of her. How couldn’t heÉ Even subconsciously he couldn`t ignore her defined beauty, and remarkable features. Her personality shined brighter than her name. In his dreams she was the main character. She was the host to every television show; she was the alpha and the omega. She was more beautiful than anything he had ever seen. Sunshine always wore her hair down. It was long and blonde and beautiful like her. He always imagined how blonde and beautiful their children would be. He was a bit of a weirdo that way.
Arnold glanced at himself in his rearview mirror. This could have been a quick glance at his new found moustache that he was so very hesitant about. This could have been a quick check to see if he was still alive. He carefully and quite enthusiastically moved the small mirror about, in an attempt to find it`s perfect placement. Arnold stopped. Looking into the small mirror, he studied his own face; careful not to startle himself. Arnold was a person who found it difficult to look himself in the eye.
His day passed by incredibly fast.
This may have been due to the fact that after mentioning to the class he was assigned to, that this day in particular was his birthday, one of those obnoxious kids filled him in on an interesting fact. Not only was today Arnold`s birthday, it was also the birth date of the infamous Britney Spears. Not only did the two share the same birthday, they were born on the same year. Arnold was awe struck. He spent the remainder of that class trying to figure out how a sixteen year old boy knew something like that. But it’s not like TOC`s do anything anyways. (ZING!) Despite that, he figured it was best not to ask.
On Arnold’s equally bleak drive home, he received a call on his cellular phone from his very elderly and outdated grandma Lou. He despised that lady. She should have been expired by now. That was always a constant thought in Arnold`s mind when even the faintest thought of that woman came to mind. Blood relation was no longer an obligation, for she smelled of cats and vinegar. That smell could also be classified as cat pee, but Arnold simply denied that thought entirely. He wasn`t able to openly resent little grandma Lou, hating on the elderly blood relatives just wasn`t his style. And plus, it was pretty hard to tell someone that knits presents for everyone that they`re way past expiry. Even though presents always felt scratchy, and they never fit. Although they were presents, they were never a kind gesture. Grandma Lou always had a way of reminding Arnold and his cousins that they were ingrateful little turkeys that sucked their parents dry. But, Arnold`s family problems and long overdue childhood emotional damage will have to wait for another day. He had enough on his plate today. He quickly and productively flicked open his phone. She wished him a basic happy birthday. How that decrepit creature remembered his birthday was incredible. How she was still alive at the age of Nintey-Two was of far more preposterous.
She died twelve minutes later.
But nobody will find her this week. Or next. What a shocker.
Arnold came home in a rush. He quickly swung open his front door, piled his things neatly in his office and proceeded up the stairs for his third cup of coffee. Arnold often drank coffee. As an avid coffee drinker, the stress on his shoulders caused him to drink more than usual today. He also suffers from sleep deprivation, which can also easily be linked to stress. Arnold`s daily routine was eating him alive. In reality, it was much more than his day to day, it was his past, present and future that ate at him as it did. He never sought out help for his problems. He couldn’t even admit to having them in the first place. That might have been the initial problem.
Arnold scoped out his old apartment. He hated it. The ceiling was the only appealing feature. It was the only thing that went without error. It was plain, it was clean, it was white and never needed maintenance. It lit up when the lights did, and it could fade into the background at the flick of a switch. Arnold hated his bedroom. He hated his clutter and he hated his closet. But most of all he hated that tie. He hated the constant reminder that he still loved her. He hated himself for never letting go, and after three long and drawn out years; he hated himself for never trying. It wouldn’t have killed him to just break out of his coordinated shell and clean up the mess he left for her to exist in. It might kill him, but he needed change.
After pacing in his tiny room for what felt like hours, packing and unpacking his bags over and over again, after contemplating the situation a million times over, he was ready. He had to feel one hundred percent on this one. He had to be sure. With the long weekend ahead of him, a cup of black coffee for the road and a new mind set, he set out on his journey. He was off to Horseshoe Bay, the closest ferry terminal around. He decided it was finally time to take the biggest step he had ever taken, even if it were outside his well organized and delicately planned schedule. His long weekend plans would have to be fulfilled over another long weekend, he had business to take care of, and everyone knows that Arnold P. Hainsworth means business. He also regretted not making that clearer earlier in the day when he was faced with that painful sixteen year old joke.
Never in his life did he regret something as much as he regretted losing Sunshine. And classically, he gained the guts to win her back.
This feat would normally go unattended by Arnold, this was something far outside his comfort zone. But pushing himself to the edge might be a push in the right direction. Arnold fully understood that in the heat of the moment, he should just go through with his plan. He had the idea to win her back in his mind for years. He had the script memorized. Time ticked until now, and stopping the clock to lock in with his final decision was exactly what he felt was necessary.
He couldn’t believe he was doing this.
She wouldn’t believe he was doing this.
Beads of sweat weren`t something he was used to. His nerves consumed him. He blinked fairly hard to stay focused. This action made him look foolish, but it wasn’t like anyone was around. Except for the lady driving beside him, obviously concerned and probably wondering what the hell he was worried about. Her curious and critical gaze gave it away. Again, he changed lanes.
Nobody could ever see him like this.
Not without his permission.
Except Sunshine.
And she was about to.
She was still miles away, and he had every opportunity in the world to turn back. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He kept it at 110. Occasionally 120. Arnold wasn’t one to speed, so he barley did. But he still felt bad ass.
Horseshoe bay glowed crowded and colourful. Heads bobbed around. The mess grew wider with people. Ugly sky met wildly colourful umbrellas, hats and hair. The terminal was a breeding ground for public conversation, an array of luggage and way too many goodbye hugs and kisses. Affection made Arnold uncomfortable on every level. Feeling the new and unpleasant sensation of an uncomfortable scenario, he purchased himself yet another coffee for the ferry. He needed his energy to last him the trek. He boarded. Despite his latest purchase, within minutes he fell asleep in his car. Within minutes of that, he was jolted from his sleep to the sound of the ferry`s droning horn.
Another painful awakening.
Now awake in his seat, he was instantly occupied. His mind became tangled with questions and answers. His brain organized itself into a collection of once happy photographs. For the first time in his life he was unsure about the future. He was lost before he even set out. His second thoughts kicked in, now that he had time to relax, but the ferry was well on it`s way, and he would have to deal with the consequences of his hasty descisions. He would be facing her alone. On an island he didn`t belong on. He suddenly wished he had packed himself a lunch. On this particular day he could have used some fuel for the fire. To calm himself down, he carried himself heavily up the dense metal stairs. He hit the passenger deck and got himself some food. He needed to settle his uneasy stomach. He decided to eat outside, with the wind and the rain and the cold. He looked out over the edge. White waves swallowed themselves whole. The boat`s razor edge ripped through the winter-grey water. He imagined the lives under the wake, creatures doing their daily routines, living their crustacean lives in beds of ancient sand. They lived in such a deep and dark place, deprived of sunshine. They never got the sunshine they needed, and neither did Arnold. But at least he was going to try. And crustaceans probably don’t even know what they`re missing anyways.
Arnold, on the other hand, knew exactly what he was missing. The thought grew. It grew into a giant he couldn`t ignore anymore. It was a monster. It would have to ride in the backseat on the drive to Sunshine`s house, Arnold wouldn’t be able to handle any company today.
When the ferry finally docked in Nanaimo, at Departure bay, which Arnold would be departing from eventually, his heart skipped beats and his foot trembled on the gas pedal. His heart sank into his stomach. He reeled it back up, and started his engine.
His car hummed along with every other motor that sat crammed and idling inside the spacious ferry. It didn`t seem so spacious now, however. It was packed full with cars and the sickly songs of their engines. This reminded Arnold of every other public transit experience he has ever had. Wether the transportation was by bus, greyhound bus, train, plane or whatever, there were always the unavoidable crowds, unexpected noises, general conflict and constant surveillance. Arnold felt eyes on his back, he could feel the stare from every direction. He hated knowing that he was in plain view of an eager crowd when he felt so close to the edge simultaneously. He contemplated jumping overboard. He could live with the crustaceans and frolic with their families in fields of kelp. This thought caused him to burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. He pictured himself being introduced to a family of shrimp and possibly their middle class octopus neighbours. He imagined anemones and whales the size of small planets. He imagined that the father shrimp all had little whiskery moustaches. He matched some of the creatures up with unique accents and funny little hats. He pictured their little sandcastles and their petite sand-dollar currency. He was fogging up his glasses with high strung, humorous tears. This was a huge step out of Arnold`s usually closed minded world. He was beginning to develop a creative conscious. This was an advancement! This defied Arnold`s average nature.
The neighbouring vehicles failed to collect even the slightest hint of insanity from Arnold`s car. They probably didn`t even notice his existence. Which is often the case when people are overly critical of themselves and fear the opinion of the public. The truth is, people probably don’t even notice you exist. In Arnold`s mind, they probably had no idea he was laughing to himself the way he was. He knew he had to laugh today, if he didn`t laugh at himself now, he may not make it through the day. Or the next day.
Taking life seriously was often incredibly easy for Arnold. But being on the edge of his little world currently made things incredibly difficult. He thought about his sanity sometimes, as any human does. But today, he had especially taken those thoughts into consideration. Especially after his little daydream about ocean life with his new sea-creature friends. He was knees deep into his thoughts when he realized that he was holding up the row of cars behind him. The loud beeps and angry horns behind him turned his pale face hot pink.
TO BE CONTINUED, FOR IT IS NOT YET FINISHED.
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