Paper Cut
On the Road in Baja: part 1

by Twyla Jane

DISCLAIMERS: This is fan fiction.  No profit involved. It is based on the television series "The Magnificent Seven". No infringement upon the copyrights held by CBS, MGM, Trilogy Entertainment Group, The Mirisch Corp. or any others involved with that production is intended. Mog created this Universe. The March Magnificent Seven Challenge by Beth, not to write a poem but to be inspired by poems. The result is a combination from an old drabble, an even older poem written by me. Thank you Libby for the encouragement, as per your suggestion here is a moment. first in the "On the Road in Baja " triology set prior to Tijuana Jail. 3/09/03

Ezra stepped into the safety of his front hall, checking that the door locked securely behind him before dropping his keys into a hand painted porcelain bowl not bothering to look at the haggard reflection in the mirror. He didn’t need a reminder that his attire was rumpled and in a total state of tattered disarray. Thinking to himself that there were bad days, his carefully cultured image and refined manners were dispelled in a flash as a derisive snort slipped out.

And then there were days like these. The type of days that it simply didn’t pay to get out of bed because they started from the moment you rolled out of the bed sheets and only got better if you took a header straight to hell.

Then he made the worst mistake of the long dreadful day because despite all his precautions, he looked.

Ezra Standish stood there for a long moment staring at the man in the mirror and loathed what he saw.

The façade he had held firmly in place all day cracked finally rupturing under the pressure of all the anger and pent up frustration burst forth as he violently planted a fist in his own reflection sending the fractured glass cascading down some even managed to skittered across the finely tatted lace runner that covered the small table. There were days that sharp pain in Ezra’s bloodied fist would’ve been enough not this day though, comparing today to some of the others was like comparing a paper cut to a gaping flesh wound.

A hearty kick sent the brass umbrella stand arcing over the living room careening off ceiling light before clattering to the floor. The unlit globe creaked as it teetered for a brief second before plunging to the floor exploding as it hit. The shattered pieces flew across the wood floor unnoticed by Standish who was liberating leather bound volumes from the bookshelf lobbing them across the room skillfully taking out a scenic oil painting over the mantle as well as the cast iron sconces that hung at its sides with “The Ebb Tide”. The brandy decanter and matching tumblers fell victim to “The Vessel of Wrath”.

After clearing the bookshelf, Ezra whipped an ornate vase off a vintage drop leaf table turning the object over in his hands before letting it fly.

“Are you through?” The soft-spoken voice startled a sweaty bloodied Standish as he watched the heavy crystal vase rotated end over end denying him the visual of it connecting with the far wall, but he did hear the satisfying crash, as he turned around a snapped at his visitor no true thought to how they had gained entry. “NO!”

“Good.” The simple drawled out word had Ezra stock still staring at the lanky Texan the wild rage deflating as he acknowledged the man who leaned against the doorframe inside his front hall. Watching on slack jawed as Vin casually leaned forward fishing through the broken shards of mirrored glass atop the table to pluck up the keys to the Jaguar behaving as nothing was amiss simply beckoning his friend as he would on any ordinary day. “Come on let’s go.”

If the thought of asking where flittered through Ezra’s mind the question went unasked instead he thought it more pertinent to state the blatantly obvious.

“Mr. Tanner, you are completely insane if you think I’m actually going to allow you to remove my car from the garage let alone drive it anywhere.”

“Yup.” With a smirk plastered across his face Vin spun around and jogged down the short hall and heading out the front with Ezra following close behind leaving the door open in his wake.

Tanner had the sleek vehicle out of the garage and onto the street barely able to slow the down enough by time the southerner grabbed on to the car door handle and jumped in. Not willing to give Standish an opportunity to change his mind Vin gunned the engine and sped off barely giving his passenger a chance to buckle in.

“I suppose there is nothing I can say or do to sway you to stop?” Weary and subdued the pain finally registered in Ezra’s mind as he uncomfortably fumbled with the seatbelt but managed to lock the troublesome device.

“Nope.” Vin’s grin widened as he responded.

“Then may be so kind to reveal where exactly we are going?” Ezra sunk down in his seat and closed his eyes, feeling both humiliated and relieved at the same time that Vin had shown up when he had.

“We’re going crazy Ez!” Standish popped one eye open and looked over at Tanner, the man, his friend, had a lopsided smile plastered on across his face and realized that maybe just maybe wherever Vin had planned to go at this moment in time it would be the best thing to do to keep sane.

“Then show me the way.”

The Mind
What a simple thing
To lose

Everyday
It seems
A little at a time
The more we try to stop it
The more we lose our minds

The clock ticks
Minutes
Hours
Days go by

Sanity slips
Through
The cracks
Of our daily lives

Yesterday long gone
Tomorrow approaching
Closer still

Deadlines
Come and go
We begin to lose our will

Sanity
What is it meant to be?

Considering humanity
Insanity seems the way to go.

11/93

 

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