Sarah Gray - Untitled

Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance

A mind divided against itself. This is the basis I used for trying to explain to my son the dualistic nature of my mind as his father and as Phaedrus. Maybe telling him about Phaedrus wasn't such a good idea. Maybe he's too young to grasp that his biological father has been swept up in a sea of memories of another and therefore isn't really his father, at least the one he used to know. Chris is a smart boy though. After we ride a while I'll stop for some chocolate malteds and ask him about it. I hope he's interested in more than small talk. He's very good at minimizing an important subject so that it becomes insignificant small talk. And I'll be true to myself. I'll be Phaedrus, the man I've struggled so hard to suppress and contain within my mind.

We stop in a town close to the coast. It's a small place with not much to offer. I lead Chris into a soda shop and order the drinks. We take them outside and sit under a huge shade tree. Chris mostly plays with his straw and stares into the chocolate. I ask him how he feels but he doesn't answer. I find it annoying when others blatantly ignore what is said to them. I think to myself Listen and ask him again. This time I get a long heavy sigh.

"Chris, do you understand who I am? I can still be your dad; things will just be different."

He sighs again and then looks at me. A deep look that feels like he's trying to see the thoughts swirling around in my head. Then he looks away and asks again about the bottom of the ocean. Why had I told him that I would meet him at the bottom of the ocean?

"I don't know exactly, Chris," I try to explain. "It was a dream and dreams can be crazy with no real meaning."

Of course I don't really believe that. I know why I had told him that. I stared into nothing as I recanted the days I spent in the hospital. All alone I would just stare and think and try to rationalize what was happening inside me as I was being pulled in two directions, one in favor of Phaedrus and the other in favor of the former me. And then I received a letter that brought me out of my trance. It was from Chris asking if we, the family, could go to the beach when I got better. I found myself always coming back to that letter. Maybe I could save my family by going to the beach and drowning this person invading my thoughts. No, I knew it wouldn't work. I didn't actually feel that Phaedrus was trespassing. I loved to stumble upon his memories. It opened up an entirely new world for me. His thoughts and perceptions and reasoning exceeded my own. He was interesting and provoking and really pushed his mind, my mind, to the maximum capacity. Far off in the distance I heard a familiar sound, only it was very faint and I could have easily ignored it.

"Dad. Dad, did you hear me? DAD!" Chris was now yelling to get my attention and I was sitting two feet away from him.

"Yes, I heard you. It's time to go." I didn't even look at him. I just got up.

"Where are we headed now?" he asks somewhat despairingly.

"We're going to the beach. Well, we're going to camp out at this overhang that looks out over the ocean. It's really beautiful."

I throw the cups away and we get on the motorcycle and head out. As the small towns go by turning into bigger ones and the country roads diverge into highways I start to remember driving down this very stretch. In fact, I could close my eyes and not miss a turn. He came this way. He was going to the very lookout I had just told Chris about. I should say that I have been here before, if I'm going to take on the role of the man so persistent in exposing himself once again. I watch the scenery go by recalling where I had stopped before, people I had spoken with, places I had rested and the dreams I had had. It was very relaxing to finally let these memories wash over me and not try and fight them. Yes, this is who I am. This is who I want to be. Chris must understand this and accept me as who I am supposed to be.

We pull off the road and park the motorcycle in a small lot for those who want to see the overlook. I hand Chris his gear and we walk down a short dirt path. We make it to the overlook and I'm glad to see that no one else has decided to camp here for the night. We stand near the edge and look out over the ocean. It is extremely beautiful and picturesque with the moon shining down on the dark water. We just look for a while. I put my arm around Chris. He makes no movement either closer or farther away from me. This let's me know that I'm still dad.

It's too dark to set up camp so I walk the motorcycle down the path and shine the light. The ledge is big and flat but we choose to role our sleeping bags out off to the side. After eating we gaze at the stars and listen to the waves breaking below on the jagged rocks.

"Dad, I just want you to be my dad. You can be Phaedrus or whoever and still be my dad, right?"

I answer that I can but that he will have to be patient with me. He asks if I will tell his mom. Here comes the hard part.

"Chris, I'm not going back home." I wait, holding my breath.

"What? What about mom and the family? How will I get back?" he asks nervously.

"I'm sending you back on a bus. I love you and your mom and your little brother, but I can't tell them what I told you." I think he understands. There's a long pause and then defiantly he states, "Well, I'm not going back either."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not. I'm staying with you. I can't tell them either and I won't live there unless you do."

"Chris..," I begin but he stops me.

"Dad, you told me that you would meet me at the bottom of the ocean. Well, this must be it and I'm here and I'm not leaving."

I thought about what he had said for a few minutes. He had a point. "Chris," I said, "this isn't the bottom of the ocean." I pause and then say while pointing past the overhang, "That is."

"What do you mean?" he asks inquisitively.

"Literally, that's the bottom of the ocean," I say and look at him trying to make out his facial expression in the dark. He gets up and walks to the edge. Then he comes back and motions for me to get up. I do. He takes his socks off and then his T-shirt.

"Well, come on. If that's it, let's go."

I hesitate and then say, "Chris, we can't go. There's no way back. Once you're out there that's it, the end. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, and it's what we've been riding towards this whole time. I understand who you are, who you've become. What you need to know is that I'm your son and that makes me a part of him. This is where we really meet and I'm not just talking about at the bottom of the ocean." I understood what he was saying. We now saw one another eye to eye.

He was naked now except for his boxer shorts. This kid, my kid, was smart. He knew he was looking for me. It just took a while for him to know that he had found me as Phaedrus. Now that he accepted the truth he could relax, stop fighting and see what had to be.

Our feet left the ledge at the same time. We jumped with all our might into the sky and then plunged into the depths of the ocean. We were each ourselves devotedly fulfilling our destinies as we had finally come to peace with who we were as individuals and with who we perceived the other to be.