"Bright colors are specs on the earth as smoke clouds the air."
They are in the middle of a revolution.
Bright colors are specs on the earth as smoke clouds the air. Herbal freedom, they claim like it’s some kind of vacation. They don't have anything else to live for anyway; yesterday was all about peace and love - today, Tommy was dead.
Some kind of revolution, echoes around them as though muttering the words would bring 'em back. They dried their tears with alcohol and ganja, losing all inhibitions to the damn revolution. Maybe it isn't the answer anymore. A toast to it all, let's get the wind.
She weeps along with the soft strums of his guitar; the revolution a cause which Tommy died for that they no longer believed in. She thinks of a time, just a few days ago, that it was about peace and love, the sound of the music a revolution of its own. The streets are silent now, the world is still. There isn't a sweet silver lining anymore - it died with Tommy.
Tommy spoke of the tomorrow, the only one of them without a dark shadow. She loves, loved, she reminds herself, (she just can't let go), Tommy more than she loved the rest. He was absolute and sure, and spoke of things like freedom and choice. She slept with him sometimes so she could feel closer to perfection and purity, something she hadn't been since before she joined the revolution.
As she puffs on the stick lingering between her slightly parted lips, she recalls the things he'd say in the middle of the night after their late night rendezvous. Forget everyone else, Laura, he'd said, when it's all over, they'll face their demons, seek forgiveness, wish for peace and love and happiness. She thinks, briefly, maybe he'd manipulated them all into believing in his dreams, like they were going to get something out of it.
She thinks of the pallets of blankets they all used to make on the grass, weekend trips in support of the revolution, doing things like packing up the van and traveling south to see Martin Luther King, Jr. His speech was riveting, Tommy would remind them; they couldn't remember the words because everyone else had been too high, like it was Woodstock or something. Woodstock had been all about sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll; when they'd left, no one could remember anything.
Tommy, he had been like their modern day Jesus and they'd all gather around him and listen intently for his upcoming parables about life and love and peace, like a true Bohemian. When it was just the two of them, he was more human. He would encourage her to be flawed, to make mistakes, to paint her jeans bright colors and leave gaping holes along the thighs. Sometimes, she believed his motivation was that he really wasn't Jesus at all and loved to look at her milky white skin. His hands used to linger along her thighs; all the while, his warm breath carried the words of "The Beatles", all you need is love.
Tommy had known all along that sometimes she’d fall into Jimmy’s bed before snuggling up beside him. He never bat an eyelash or showed a hint of jealousy, he just smiled and slid his fingers through hers as she crawled into bed, prompting him to press his bare chest into her cold back. Sometimes, she’d never even climb into bed; she just fell asleep beside Jimmy and his post coital breaths. She’d wake up, go into the kitchen, and lean against the doorframe with arms folded across her chest while offering Tommy a sleep-filled gaze; he’d smile and lift a hand to scratch the back of his head before taking a bite of his breakfast.
She doesn’t think that Tommy was really all that human after all.
A god damn revolution, Jimmy mutters again after awhile, voice shaky and fingers burning from the embers at the tip of their grass. He doesn’t know how to deal with death and hate. It’s all lost on him like the feel of her blonde hair on his fingertips. He’s never experienced tragedies and sadness without explanation. He remembers being told when he was little that his uncle died in World War II, but it didn’t affect him - he’d never known the guy.
Jimmy usually kisses her with his eyes closed, afraid to see the world for what it truly is and always seeing it the way he wants. He is more human than Tommy and he doesn’t really know what he is fighting for - maybe choices and individuality, or could just be for late nights of sex and smoke trains. He doesn’t know what is real and true anymore, it all just IS for him; he exists in a world of illusions.
She’s drawn to him because he’s human with regrets and things he would have done differently, because he’s made vital mistakes. He’s easier to exist with because she feels good enough, better than him really. She wasn’t a bad girl, didn’t make any huge mistakes or have any big regrets, just minor things really. Not before the revolution and maybe not even after. Jimmy doesn’t speak in deep, profound, metaphorical meanings. He just says what comes to mind. Most of it with an edge blazed before the words even left his lips. He doesn’t believe in freedom really. He just believes in intercourse like it’s the answer for death and hate.
Tommy died and Jimmy cries, finally understanding the revolution.
Days pass and they still sit in dark rooms with cigarette embers lit and smoke seeping into the walls, something impure to inhale just to remind them they’re alive. They’ve been thinking for days and still don’t really have any answers. Just that they don’t really know what’s going on and won’t be able to fend for them anymore - the only words leaving Jimmy’s lips being, a god damn revolution.
“He died saving me,” she finally speaks, voice hoarse from nicotine and tears and silence. The smell of weed and alcohol stifles the air around them, daylight begging to peek in through the cracked blinds, but they couldn’t remember to forget like it had never done its job before. Maybe they were just numb to the high by now, hiding in the darkness and mourning their loss as if they could feel anything anymore.
“I know,” he agrees with a single nod. He takes a long drag of the cigarette perched between his two fingers before absently pinching the filter and rolling it between his fingertips. He glances at her in time to see her in a blank daze across the room, Tommy’s voice echoing in her head: When those bastards come after you, you just smile, okay? They’ve got nothing to lose in all this. This isn’t even their fight. Jimmy was jealous - he loves her, just doesn’t believe that she knows happiness in this world. He continues, “I wish I could say I’d do the same thing that he did for you.”
“He told me he loved me,” she added, quietly as though she was alone in the room and reflecting in their past life together.