Lovelights - Benjamin and Jane E-Book

Elias J. Connor

• Herausgeber: FINN Books Edition FireFly
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

Sometimes you have to look beyond the horizon to see the things you've been waiting for in vain. Benjamin Foster is in his late 30s, a dry alcoholic and very withdrawn. His only contact is his adult goddaughter Crystal - but it is precisely this family bond that falters after Benjamin suffers another serious relapse. When he then changes jobs, he meets a mysterious colleague who completely throws his feelings off balance. Not only is Jane several years younger than Benjamin, she is also very shy and reserved. Benjamin knows he's in love with Jane, but she seems unreachable. When they become friends despite all the difficulties, Benjamin gains new courage and strength. He wants to fight for her - but that seems to be getting harder with every step, because Jane has secrets that Benjamin doesn't know and that could be dangerous for him... A gripping love story of a very special kind about two people trying to find their way together in a hopeless world.

Leseprobe

Elias J. Connor

Lovelights - Benjamin and Jane

Inhaltsverzeichnis

Dedication

Chapter 1 - The cold in my heart

Chapter 2 - Alone in the golden cage

Chapter 3 - A new way

Chapter 4 - Unreachable, but you are there

Chapter 5 - Why is no one listening?

Chapter 6 - Jane's birthday

Chapter 7 - The brother

Chapter 8 - Are we secretly dating?

Chapter 9 - Far from me

Chapter 10 - She's back

Chapter 11 - New life

Chapter 12 - Walls

Chapter 13 - Benjamin's confession

Chapter 14 - The trip to the amusement park

Chapter 15 - Hopeless

Chapter 16 - Give it up

Chapter 17 - Sad autumn

Chapter 18 - Jane in the middle of nowhere

Chapter 19 - Crystal's lullaby

Chapter 20 - When a dream comes true

Chapter 21 - The first date

Chapter 22 - Pandemic

Chapter 23 - Jane's revelation

Chapter 24 - Crystal's farewell

Chapter 25 - The end of the rainbow

About the Author Elias J. Connor

Impressum

Dedication

For Jana

My friend, my angel, my princess.

Muse, provider of ideas, companion.

I am incredibly happy to know you, to be with you and to be by your side.

You are the most wonderful thing I have ever met in my life.

Chapter 1 - The cold in my heart

The train rattles slowly along the rails. I don't know how long I've been in here, but it feels like hours. And because it's still so early, it's still pitch black outside.

How I hate that. I don't like the dark. At least not anymore. And certainly not early in the morning.

shitty work, honestly.

I've been on sick leave for the past four weeks. Officially because of a torn ligament. I didn't even know that you can even fake it at the doctor's, but he actually believed me. Of course he sent me to the x-ray station, but I never went there. The doc wrote me a sick note and I sent it to the company.

Good. Yesterday was the last day of my sick leave, so today I have to go back. The same thing again, irritable mood as always, grumbling group leaders and employees, thousands of complaints about the high sick leave rate in the company.

Bored, I get off the train and walk along the field path, here in the industrial area of Solingen, past the wide fields. It takes about 15 minutes to walk from the train station to the company. Who the heck would ever think of building a new building for our workshop for mentally ill people that is so far off the beaten path that even mere mortals have difficulty reaching it? Early in the morning on a cold January day.

But good. We moved last fall and have been working here ever since. Well, yeah, I haven't actually been here that often. I've been absent for half a year, I'm sick more often and I'm generally quite demotivated.

I dodge silently through the corridor to the smoking corner.

"Hey dude," a familiar male voice greets me as I sit down on the bench without a word. I turn and see a man in his mid 20's who is looking at me with a big grin.

"Hey, Jack," I say as he takes a seat next to me.

"Long time no see," says Jack then. "Where have you been? I sent you a few messages but I guess you didn't get them."

I breathe out annoyed, but I don't want it to sound annoyed.

"I'm fed up," I then exclaim. "I just don't like it anymore."

"What's going on?" Jack looks at me seriously. "You could have at least gotten in touch, Benny."

At the same time, a burly young man with dark hair enters the outdoor area where we always retreat to smoke. He's maybe 30 or a little older, and I notice that despite the cold, he's only wearing a sweater. I haven't seen him for a long time, but I still remember who he is.

"Look," he says thoughtfully. "The long-lost Benjamin Foster is back."

"Lex, leave him," Jack admonishes the man. "He must have had his reason."

The young man finally sits down with us and lights a cigarette.

"Benjamin," he says seriously. "It can not go on like this. They're talking about the technical committee. People should be fired who are absent too often. What if they fire you?”

I get up excited. "Lex," I say. "You've never been upset. What are you doing so stupidly at me now?”

Lex looks me in the eyes, perplexed. But he says nothing.

Lex and Jack are like my best friends. I've known her for years - first Lex, and later Jack. We're a real clique. Often, mostly on Fridays after work, we do something: eat a doner kebab, go to the cinema, things like that. Our gang even has a name: The Alliance. That's what we are, a real alliance.

Lex has never been mad at me no matter what I screwed up, and there's been a lot of that lately. Being late or not at work, missing appointments, transferring them for no apparent reason. I really didn't notice that this has increased so much in the last few months. But he's never been mad about it.

Apparently now.

I don't know what's going on myself. You know me. I'm just the way I am. Even though they're my best friends, I still need time to withdraw from time to time so I can be by myself. But lately, Lex often feels like this is happening too often.

You know almost everything about me. You actually know almost everything that I have experienced and had to go through. You know I've written about it and even published this story in a smaller scale book.

Final destination.

Benjamin Foster's story. Ex-alcoholic with a long drinking career. The man who only found a way out of his addiction when he was given a big task. The one who adopted a girl named Crystal, who later became his very best friend and longtime confidante. Years of existence and growing friendship with her, years of fighting for her and her life. Left home at the age of 16, she shared a flat and later lived with him. Eventually, as a young adult, she moved in with her boyfriend.

Crystal.

I've been thinking about her a lot lately. I'm always happy when she writes or asks if I can come and see her. She's grown up now and lives with her boyfriend in a place that's not that far away.

But we rarely see each other anymore.

Crystal is doing an apprenticeship and is heavily involved in her work. She is now 20 and does what young people do. Life.

She is still my goddaughter and always will be. I'm her only family left and she means mine. Oh yes, we've been through a lot together. We lost everything and then regained it. Her life has never been easy. Mine does not. But I don't want to think about my old shitty life, not now.

I checked it. After the severe alcohol relapse in the summer of 2016, six months ago, I finally put an end to my entire previous life, wrote everything down and told it.

And Crystal is the one who was there then. The one who gave me courage to say it. And she's the first in our long friendship to find out why I've been drinking for years.

I know Crystal realizes how grateful I am to her for surviving this devastating relapse and for not leaving me alone in this.

I'm safe again Satisfied, strengthened and sure that I don't have to think about it anymore and don't have to drink anymore.

I haven't heard from her in almost two months. What is she doing? Is she okay?

I trust her. If you don't hear from the kids, they're fine, they always say. I'm sure she's fine, why am I worrying?

My gaze wanders into space and I feel like I'm floating. I feel free of all the negativity that has passed. I remember the beautiful things that made me change that past life and make me who I am now. I want that. That's how I want it.

"Benny," Lex says. "How old are you now?"

I look questioningly at Lex.

"38," I reply. "Why?"

"Man, Benny," says Lex. "You're hiding yourself. Come out.”

come out

He said it often. But I always find that he doesn't really think I'm shutting myself off. Sure, I'm often at home and don't go to many meetings, I've noticed that.

But now he seems deadly serious.

I'm an ex-alcoholic. I'm also probably kind of a schizo or a psycho. We are all a bit like that here, some more, others less. It is, and I can deal with it. Those close to me know how I am and who I am. Especially Crystal, because nobody is closer to me than her, who is my only family.

Why don't I understand Lex's comment and take it as an attack? Why doesn't he seem to understand me either?

At the same time, an elderly man who works here at the facility as a group leader steps out. He comes straight at me.

"So, Herr Foster," he says. "As announced, we now have a conversation with social services."

Clear. So clear.

I sent a sick note, what do they want?

As we sit upstairs in the office, I hardly notice what they are telling me. I understood something about warning. Because I miss too much and because I supposedly stole gummy bears from an order recently.

I've lost my nerve. Not really. I'm fine, why don't they check that?

Also on the way to the train station - just left, at 9 o'clock in the morning - I know that it could have been the workshop. This is too much. I collect warnings and now I'm even leaving. Now they have to fire me.

I do not care. I don't care. I don't know whether this is suddenly the case or whether this indifference towards my life was announced beforehand.

At noon at twelve o'clock I'm sitting on my sofa at home and have a completely empty head. No thoughts, no brooding, no feelings.

I see the half-full can of strong beer on my living room table. Someone must have emptied it halfway because there is still something in it.

I don't know if I'm the one drinking from it or if it's someone else somehow.

Me, Benjamin Foster, sober for almost a decade, interrupted by a severe relapse six months ago.

Start at one, I think to myself. Actually, I've only been sober for half a year. But not anymore.

Job gone, Crystal doesn't call, and my friends are mad at me. I can think of many reasons why I'm drinking a beer again today. The habit of the alcoholic comes up in me, which makes me shift the responsibility onto other things again.

Yes, I know the real reason for my long-term drinking. And after I've completely processed and finished with that, there's no longer any need to drink. I'm not allowed to either. I have responsibilities - not only for my life, but also for Crystal's and for my friends. I have a responsibility as godfather, friend and human being.

Holy shit. Why?

I look at the beer.

Then I throw it away. I want to dump it down the sink, but I'll probably dump it down myself instead. Somehow I try to convince myself that I don't notice and that it's not me at all, but someone else who is sitting here drinking again. I really want to believe it.

I do not know where I am. It's dark outside. I hear the monotonous sound of people bawling, but it seems so faint that it doesn't bother me at all.

I look out of the window. The headlight of a car shines in and I suddenly realize thousands of small patterns that are distributed symmetrically in the light on the window.

Where am I? It's so quiet here.

"Benny," someone calls out. "Back there?"

"Want to have one?"

They put something on the table I'm sitting at. I'm sitting there alone.

They don't sit next to me, but I'm given something to drink. I don't know what it is, but I drink it, and the more I drink, the more floating I feel about it.

Some fucking January evening in 2017. I'm sitting in my then favorite pub and drinking again. That's how it is now.

And no one is with me. That's the way it should be.

No, no, no, I call to myself. What am I doing here? Just why?

I look up I think I sensed a rope there.

"Benjamin, come on, have another drink. It's been a while."

I try to stretch my hands up and try to get to the rope somehow.

I don't even notice the sound of the voices singing and shouting. It's like a foreign language to me.

Time seems to stand still and turn faster at the same time. I just don't notice certain moments, others seem like they last forever.

Suddenly I'm sitting in the subway. I can't tell if it's clear in my head. I don't notice the alcohol, I'm not drunk either. I just can't feel anything anymore. Only one wish: I want out. Just get out of it all.

The S-Bahn stops, and still not knowing where I am, I trudge down the stairs from the station in the rain. There is a bench on the forecourt that I sit on. Here I sit now, in the middle of the night and in the cold. I'm freezing and holding my jacket.

"Cold," I hear someone say.

I turned around briefly...

She stands there and looks at me with her big eyes. Her gaze is serious and anxious. She breathes in and out regularly, and her breaths make little clouds that dance around in front of her impossibly pretty face.

I have no idea who this young woman is. I do not know you. How am I supposed to? I've probably never been to this corner before.

The strange woman, maybe in her late twenties, is shaking just like me. Her hands clutch her white anorak. And her shoulder-length, light brown hair, tied in a ponytail, blows back and forth in the light night breeze. But she stands very still.

I just look at her, but I probably don't register it at all. I dont know.

It's only five, maybe ten seconds, but when her eyes meet me, I can feel it. It's something I've never felt in my life before and I absolutely can't explain it.

I close my eyes briefly and when I look in her direction again for a second look, she's gone.

I sit back and suddenly feel clearer than usual in my head. I have no idea what just happened, but I must have seen a ghost.

Who is this woman? I've only seen her for a few seconds, but I realize she's not just anyone. In the few seconds she was looking at me, she triggered something in me that I can't explain. Something that won't make me forget her.

It's only five or ten seconds - but from that look of hers I know now more than before and it's stronger in me than I ever thought possible. I know I have only one choice and there would only be one choice - and that was: live.

I walk slowly to the platform as the next train pulls in. Then I'll drive off.

After several stops, still not knowing where I am, I get off. Mechanically, I walk along a street to the nearest neighboring town, to a quieter settlement made up of several two-family houses.

When I get to Crystal's door, I stand there for a few minutes. Finally, I take my cell phone out of my jacket pocket and text her.

"Crystal, are you home?"

There is no answer in the next few minutes. Even after half an hour nothing happens.

Suddenly the light goes on in the stairwell, as I can see through the large glass front door.

I hear footsteps of someone running down a flight of stairs.

The door then opens and Crystal gives me a deep, questioning look.

"Crystal," I say desperately.

"You've been drinking, Benny..." she states.

Tears run down my cheeks. It's a wonder they don't turn to ice in the cold.

"All gone," I stammer. "Nothing left. No job, no people..."

Crystal strokes my shoulder. There stands the young woman, my best friend, my goddaughter, and looks deep into my eyes.

"Benny, it can happen once, but twice? That's not good.” Her look is understanding, almost pitying, but also a bit reproachful. I know that, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

"Marlon isn't here," she finally says. "He'll be back tomorrow."

"Are you and your boyfriend having a fight?" I want to know.

Crystal doesn't say anything, just shakes her head.

"Benny, come upstairs," she finally asks me. "I'll make you some coffee."

We walk up the stairs to her apartment on the first floor.

When I sit down on the sofa, I only perceive everything very vaguely. I get dizzy and heavy. My head is spinning, even as I take the first sip of coffee that Crystal puts in front of me.

And she just sits there and looks at me.

What have I done? why did i do it What happened?

She ties her uncombed black hair in a ponytail. I don't know if she knows the answers because I don't know them myself. But she seems to know more about and about me than anyone else. That's true. She's just Crystal. And she is here now.

I notice that my eyes are getting darker. Did Crystal dim the lights? There's a light dimmer in her living room, I know that. But did she dim the light? Why?

"Crystal, do you believe in angels?" I want to know. "Or special beings not like us?"

She seems to be looking at me questioningly, but I don't really notice.

"Why are you asking that?" I hear her voice from afar.

"I think I saw such a being," I stammer.

At that moment my vision goes black.

Chapter 2 - Alone in the golden cage

The wind whips her face. She covers her eyes with her hands and at the same time clutches her thick jacket with her arms.

She walks slowly down the street. It's dark and she can't see exactly where she's going. The little dog she has with her - a beagle - trotts along slowly beside her.

You can see that she is scared. Afraid of the dark? Afraid that someone might come and talk to you?

The young woman may be in her mid-20s, but her natural-looking hairstyle makes her appear a little younger. Her dark blonde hair blows in the wind. The light of the lanterns in the avenue causes her sweat to break out with fear.

Suddenly she hears a noise. She hastily hides behind a wall at the side of the road. She is breathing heavily. Her dog sits next to her and looks at her.

"Jane," she suddenly hears a man's voice. "Jane, are you out there?"

The young woman says nothing. She presses even closer to the wall. She wants to blend into the wall so no one sees her.

If only a wall would form around them, enclosing them. Then she would be all to herself.

"Jane," the man's voice calls again.

The young woman closes her eyes in fear. Nobody should see her.

Suddenly she feels a hand on her shoulder. The woman turns around abruptly.

"Jane, come home," the man says to her in a calm tone.

Jane breathes out resignedly.

"Yes, dad," she says.

Chapter 3 - A new way

It's still quite cool, but it's slowly getting warmer.

Just not in my heart.

Early April and I'm still on indefinite sick leave. I'm glad Crystal kept me from ending up in the psychiatric clinic because I don't ever want to go back there. I don't need this anymore. I do not want that anymore. I still vehemently believe that I've finished with everything.

Haven't I?

I'm sitting on the couch in my living room. I do it even though I really don't want to do it again. But then I do it anyway. Somehow I'm hoping this will give me a clue as to what's really going on with me. I'm trying to figure out what's nagging me, even though I think it's over.

I'm reading the book I wrote then. It has been in front of me in printed form for some time, one of the few existing copies. It looks good and it's mine. Actually, I should be proud to have accomplished this.

But reading the book titled "Endstation" is far more difficult than the time I wrote it. I get so much feedback from the people who have read it.

Terminus encourages. Endstation reflects bare life as it is and shows how combative and strong Benjamin Foster actually is.

But is it me?

I sit here and read line by line.

I don't even notice that a key is put in my apartment door from the outside, it opens and someone comes in.

"Crystal," I say to her when I notice that she's suddenly standing in my living room.

"Hey," she says, smiling. "How are you?"

I sigh and put the book down.

"It's okay," I say to her. "Sorry, I was really deep..."

She sits on the sofa and looks at me.

She has sat on my sofa so many times. I don't remember exactly when was the last time. Somehow it seems like an eternity to me, but some things don't go away. That's a good thing. Some things remain, others pass away and are gone forever.

Crystal stays. She always stayed. Even if she doesn't really take part in my life at times, she's always there.

"You read your own book?" she asks me.

I nod.

"It's no use," I think out loud. "I was hoping it would bring me back to reality. That I recognize how my life is today. How it is with what I have today. With my current family, with us…”

"Benjamin," Crystal begins as she gives me a sharp look. "Do you realize that there can be no more us? At least not like that.”

I was afraid she would say that. But I hoped she wouldn't.

"What do you mean?" I ask helplessly into the void.

Crystal doesn't answer, just looks at me.

"I don't want to lose you too," I stammer.

"Stop it," she suddenly screams. "You always act like you've always lost everything. You make yourself dependent on things, and when you don't have them anymore, even if only temporarily, you think you've lost everything."

I cry softly.

"I haven't read your book," she says to me. "Maybe I won't either. Benjamin, stop that.” Her voice quietens. "I can't do this with you anymore. I've always been able to do it, but if you can't fundamentally change your life now and finally see for yourself what's important without me having to stand next to you and confirm it to you, then it's over for us as a family. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

I'm shivering.

It might not matter. I've lost everything anyway. Now also the last person in my life that I have.

"Please give me one last chance," I want to beg her.

But I don't. I keep quiet

I got something. I don't know what, but I got something.

"Now will you please throw away your self-pity so I can tell you something?" Crystal breathes sadly.

I nod.

"Okay," she says. "First: Even if I don't get in touch for months - you are and will always be one of the most important people in my life. For now and for all time.”

I'm shivering. Did she really just say that?

"I'm just as scared of losing you," she continues. “Benjamin, you have suffered another severe relapse. You tried to take your own life. And you don't think for a second that I might feel like I failed and did something wrong with you. I don't know why you did that, Benny, but secondly, you promise me you'll never do anything like that again."

I nod again wordlessly while wiping tears from my eyes.

"And thirdly, there must and will be something that will take away your dependency - whether it's from me, from other people or from alcohol. You will seek and find it, do you understand?”

I look at her questioningly.

Then Crystal gets up and walks to my small desk. She turns on the computer and opens the internet.

"Google," she says. "You don't like your job anymore? Then look for a new job. Now."

Change jobs? Leave old habits? Start a whole new life? Get rid of all dependencies? I'll never make it, I think to myself.

"I don't know if I..." I begin.

"Please show me that you are strong and can do it, Benny," she says. "It was your terminus. Our. And now take some fucking train to a new life. Something that suits you, free from all pressure, all negative thoughts and those things that happened to you as a child. Free from alcohol and your dependence on people. Benny, change your life and do it now. Please. Otherwise…"

She doesn't continue, but I know she wanted to say, "Otherwise I'll never come back."

The Internet is on, the Google page is open, and Crystal stands up. Without saying a word, she runs to the door.

"Please don't go," I dare to say.

Then she comes back and hugs me and strokes my head as I cry.

"You can do it, Benny," she whispers. "And you won't lose me. Not even if I should move away one day.”

"We're friends..." I just stammer.

Crystal nods.

Then she runs out of my apartment. I sit on the computer chair and look at the screen. After two or three minutes I reflexively look at the phone. Crystal didn't block me on WhatsApp. She remains available.

A new life? With what content?

I carefully enter a search query. Several suggestions are made to me. At a workshop similar to the one I work in, I somehow get stuck and open the page.

"Perseus workshops for mentally ill people and people with mental impairments" is written in large letters on the start page.

I look at the pictures and read the table of contents. They have an affiliated auto repair shop there, with assembly stuff. Not sure what for, but it looks interesting.

The people in the pictures appear to be happy. The tone in which the page is written is balanced and calm.

And then the contact form suddenly appears further down.

I don't know who wrote the message, but since that second it's suddenly like I don't recognize myself. I tremble when I read what I just sent.

"Dear Sir or Madam, I have just found your workshop on the Internet and am applying for a position as an employee in your company. About me: I've been working in a workshop in the north of Solingen for eight years, but I haven't felt comfortable there for a while. In the last year everything in the field of work has been falling further and further down. I have trouble getting up early and feel very demotivated. I would now like to change this and have come to the conclusion that a change of workshop is the right thing for me. Your workshop seems to offer opportunities that I might not otherwise have, and I would be happy to visit your premises for a tour and/or an initial consultation. Sincerely, Benjamin Foster.”

It doesn't even take two days to get an answer.

"Dear Mr. Foster, would it be possible for you to come to our workshop tomorrow morning? We would be happy to welcome you there for an initial consultation.”

I can't even read who signed that. I immediately send Crystal a copy of the email via WhatsApp, and when a smiling smiley comes back from her, I know. It has begun. And it started today...

I'm much too early the next morning when I visit the workshop, which is not that far from where I live. I'm already standing in front of the building at eight o'clock in the morning. It's big, although the internet says the Perseus workshops are a small company. I see the flagpoles on which the signs of the workshop are emblazoned. And then there are more flags – probably several companies are integrated and merged in the house. You have already mentioned on the Internet that there is the possibility of working in other areas as well.

I stand there and smoke one cigarette after the other until I'm finally supposed to have my appointment at nine o'clock.

Who do you think works here? People come in one after the other. Some loud, funny guys. Then two very quiet women and finally a man who actually looks like he might be autistic. He approaches me.

"You're new," he states, looking at me with a big grin.

I nod. "I hope so," I say.

Then he goes on.

I'm putting out the cigarette and looking down briefly.

I don't have to look at the ground anymore. You wrote that nice e-mail. I don't have to be sad or feel alone anymore, no, I don't have to.

I only saw her very briefly. For a moment that feels like hours, I see this young woman with light brown hair standing in front of me. As surreal as it seems to me, it seems so real. She stands and looks at me with a questioning look that, though I can't interpret it, has told me more than I could ever know in my life. I can see right now that she is a special person. No idea what she's got and why she's here, it doesn't matter either. But for that second, even though I know it's real, I feel like I've seen a ghost. Why is that?

I don't think. I can not do that. I've only known since that moment that this house is kind of magical. Yes, I believe in that. Its magical. It's all here somehow.

She looks at me and snorts softly. Her big eyes study me for a while. The strange woman may be in her late twenties, maybe even a bit younger, I can't tell directly from her face. Her hair, tied in a ponytail, blows gently in the wind.

Then she raises one arm briefly and I notice for a split second that her hand must be missing at least two fingers. But it's not strange. I think it's so normal that I don't even notice it.

She stands there and looks at me.

And then she turns to the door and goes into the workshop.

Unusual.

I just can't shake the feeling – whoever this strange young woman is – that I know her, from somewhere. I can't shake the feeling that I've seen her before.

man, what's happening right now? What is happening here? is that magic

I slowly trudge in as well, because it's now time for the conversation I'm supposed to have here today.

The Perseus workshops: what could I expect?

"Hello," a woman greets me immediately. "You are Mr. Foster, correct?"

I nod.

"I'll take you up to social service," says the woman.

I have to wait a while upstairs. But finally the social worker comes and we talk about what is going on here. I talk about my difficulties in the old workshop and she says that I could definitely switch. We would then go the normal way, which would mean that I should do an internship here and if it was determined that I fit in here and the work suits me, then I could start at the earliest possible date.

Finally, all areas of the workshop are shown to me. It looks good what they're doing here. Not monotonous things like in the old workshop. More important work, really with metal and machines.

Can I do that?

I dont know. But today I dare more than ever.

At the end I am shown the canteen – and there she is again. The unknown, strange woman. She looks at me again and so do I. I have no idea what happens when our eyes meet. I haven't drunk, I haven't taken anything - not this time - and yet it's the same spirit, the same angel that I saw standing somewhere in the cold at night.

---ENDE DER LESEPROBE---