Blue Anesthesia

  © 2017 Daniel Lidman. All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are spawned from the author’s imagination.

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter One

  Grains of Bone

  1

  With the flick of a switch, artificial lights interrupted the gleam of morning. In the swallow of these artificial lights, Axel Gardner spawned false thoughts. These thoughts were narrow in their thought-lanes. They turned perspective into a magnifying glass, coated with dust, blurring reality for their bearer. The artificial lights beaming from his ceiling were too bright for a newly awakened Axel, who had grown accustomed to two kinds of darkness: the physical one of the sky, and the mental one of his mind. He rejected the bright lights, sheltering himself in the darkness behind closed eyelids. Here, thoughts were in the masses. Nothing visual could distract. His survival instinct tried to combat the false thoughts with one echoing sentence, thrown for a loop inside of his mind.

  Everything is going to be okay.

  Sensitive bubbles of anxiety rose in his thought-lanes, exploding, adding a layer of difficult warmth to his thinking. In the darkness of his eyelids, Axel didn’t deem it reasonable to think: everything is going to be okay. It was too easy to believe that everything would indeed be okay when everything was black. And that only led to one thing: suicidal tendencies. His meat-curtains opened. He raised his body into a seating position, and as he sat up, reality poured into his awareness in heavy doses. The sound of a ticking clock greeted him. Axel yawned. He smacked his lips together like someone who had tasted luxurious wine. Did that bring out the flavor of the wine? He assumed so, for now, he could taste milky morning breath. The physical problem of bad breath grabbed a ticket to wait in line behind hundreds of other problems. Axel always suffered from many problems. As he sat in bed, Axel turned his attention to a wet stain of sweat on his pillow. It seemed to mock him.

  I guess even sleep tormented me, he thought. He felt his brain wink, as if replying with: You know it, champ.

  Maybe it was a good thing that no romantic interest existed in his life to wish him a good morning. He lived in the waking world as he slept, by himself, just Axel. Most of his social interactions were processed, one-sided communications with an audience. He had been a successful comedian for four years now, even earning himself his own TV show, which aired late for others who also suffered from false thoughts, rendering them unable to sleep. Axel titled his show The Seed of Comedy. The show was a token of his hard work, and Axel brimmed with joy during its first seasons. However, as of summer, when a blanket of heat laid over Earth, tucking in all the life with embracing warmth, Axel started to feel strange.

  In his younger years, the focus of achieving his dreams to become a comedian was large enough to eliminate any physical need. His brain ran a mental tongue over itself at the thought of becoming a comedian, never allowing dry thoughts to hinder his concentration. But now that success was reached, Axel Gardner felt more alone than ever. When the craving for initial success stopped, the mental tongue of his brain turned into a dirty, harsh towel, staining his thoughts with spiritual confusion. He had remained so keen on his dreams his entire life—a psychological need—that he forgot about physical needs. He craved physical affection and love; a craving that every human carries in one way or another. But he had ignored these cravings at first, only wanting to focus on becoming a comedian.

  With all his success, he was thrown into an upper level of society where dreamers turned preachers to the levels existing below; shouting how much better and how much more right they are, and always will be. As the months on this upper level went on, a question in the back of Axel’s head started to grow—waiting to turn into a flower of wonder. He tried to ignore it at first, but as the question bloomed, he had to face it.

  Will I ever find love in this environment?

  Most of the people in the upper level of society, he realized, acted too good for him. There existed others who didn’t; but instead, these people had high expectations of him, as though they thought he was too good for them. He had never stumbled upon a middle-ground. But couldn’t he look for love on the level below? Where he himself had once existed? Maybe awhile back, but probably not now. Could he trust someone to not use him for his success? Would he not lay awake at night, wondering if the love had been real or false? Had the attraction been the color of his persona or the color of green? Could a person have a false attraction at first, but then fall in love with the real him? Would the false attraction even matter then? He didn’t know. He started to ponder over this when summer struck. The sun seemed like the right time for thoughts of love.

  It was an odd thing to be overwhelmed with sadness in the summer. It was like being a single black dot on a blank piece of paper. To be surrounded by eternal light, reflecting off the pure white, never escaping it, feeling like an accident—a mistake—in the eyes of the painter who spilled ink, creating a black dot, creating Axel Gardner.

  Axel was sealed into a narrow perspective of the world. This perspective made his sadness seem permanent. As the sadness held his hand in a grizzly grasp, showing him the new world through a lens exclusive to him only, false thoughts invaded.

  Whoa, nice face. I can see why you’ve wanted to become a comedian since a young age. Was it when you first saw your reflection?

  Didn’t write any good jokes today, huh? Yeah, well, maybe that’s because you aren’t good. Did you ever think of that?

  Axel assumed that it would get better with the passage of time, as all things did. Every time these thoughts of pain invaded, mental resistance built. With time, Axel’s invading thoughts would grow into a daily routine, rendering their insults old and tired. And when that happened, he would grow accustomed to their pain, and almost find it boring. That’s when he would beat it. When he would become used to the invading thoughts and images in his head, they would no longer be frightening. They would stop being the monster he first thought they were, and turn into a neighbor whom he shared no friendly bonds with. An all-natural, ecological neighbor who greeted him with emptiness, and who he thought nothing of. Maybe that would happen someday, but it felt long away. How could one grow used to pain? His sadness had been in the driving seat of his existence for a few months now, and it hadn’t even begun to speed yet.

  On his nightstand, his phone vibrated against hollow wood, startling him. Susanne, his younger sister, was calling. Axel answered.

  “Hey, Axel, are you still coming to the family dinner at mom’s tonight?” Whatever emotion her tone carried was lost in background noises. Axel heard funky voices of a children’s cartoon, followed by snorting laughter from Susanne’s daughter, Emma.

  “I am. Why?”

  “I’m just making sure. I thought maybe you’d be too busy writing for your show. Is that tomorrow night?”

  “It’s the day after tomorrow.”

  “Can you tell me one of the jokes?”

  “You calling me in the morning would pass for a joke.”

  “It’s Sunday.”

  “And my idea of a day in the sun is on an island somewhere, away from you.”

  Axel breathed a laugh. His sister joined him, drowning all the background noises with her pitch for a few seconds. He waited for her breathing to turn steady before he spoke again.

  “I’ll be there, Susanne. Will you say hi to Emma from her uncle?”

  “You can say hi yourself; I’m taking her with me to
the dinner. Hey, thanks for the laugh. Laughter’s the best medicine, right?”

  “Right,” Axel agreed in a bland tone.

  I wish that was true in my case.

  “I’ll see you tonight,” Susanne said.

  “Bye.”

  Axel’s chest felt heavy. He worried about the day after tomorrow. He worried about the live performance. Two weeks ago, his invading thoughts had started to shout obscenities, rendering him insecure. As an act for an audience to view, he needed to appear happy and confident. Many of the people in the audience came to laugh, maybe to forget about their own sadness. In that case, he couldn’t appear sad and insecure. He’d fire back reminders of the audience’s own sadness.

  When he first started his career as a comedian, Axel had a glistening joy inside of him. This joy buttered the pallet of everyone around him, making their smiles shine. Axel loved the idea of laughing. Making people smile felt good enough, but when they laughed, that was something else. It was as if their smile could no longer contain itself and morphed into something purer. The eyes in the audience were happy to have him around. He loved being on stage, buttering their pallet. To him, the butter seemed unlimited; the jokes not only had life in his career, but also outside of it. He cracked instantaneous jokes in conversations outside of work, and they rarely failed.

  As his sadness began to creep, those eyes in the audience no longer seemed happy with him. They seemed to be judging him. The laughs were still there, but Axel questioned if they were real. His legs began to shake in moments of doubt. He supposed that if his insecurity was to get the best of him, and he would start to stutter and fail, at least people would get a last good laugh. Witnessing the failure of someone was real big in comedy. As physical symptoms of insecurity like the shaking began to appear, his sadness only increased. He would lay awake at night, panicking. Soon enough he would not only be without love and physical needs. His success, which had been the price of skipping out on love, would crumble in his hands. He felt heartbroken. He was not heartbroken over someone else. He was heartbroken over himself. After all, couldn’t you lose yourself just as you lost others? Become a stranger in your own mind and body? Not recognize yourself? Sure, and in a way, Axel supposed that was worse than losing someone else. He felt heartbroken, indeed.

  The ticking of the clock continued.

  Axel looked up at the clock.

  I love you too, sweetheart.

  The erect pointer of the clock showed its appreciation to this, growing tall as it struck 12 p.m. on the fifth of January, 2014.

  The live shows were high in attendance at the start of a new year. Axel supposed that people wanted to start a new year with laughs and smiles, in hopes that it would somehow pave the road ahead for the rest of the year. He imagined it was kind of like waking up next to a loved one who always made you smile as you recognized their presence, entering reality from sleep. If your face wasn’t smiling, your heart was. Those emotions in the morning were the ones that mattered the most on a new day, paving the foundation for the hours ahead.

  Axel felt tired at that thought; not physically, but mentally. He struggled with his naked body out of bed and released a loud cry as he stretched. He looked to see if he had left the window open last night before he went to bed, to allow the breeze of nature to caress his skin and swoosh him to sleep with the sound of the wind, as a loving mother would.

  Nope; the window was closed.

  A good thing, too, for someone might’ve called the cops over that stretch, reporting attempted murder on what sounded like a large cat. Outside, the sky painted blue. At least the weather is nice, Axel thought. He stumbled across his room, feeling like a doll on strings. He felt as hollow as one, too. His apartment was messy. The furniture had the appearance of frozen preschoolers on a schoolyard; scattered all over the place. In the past few weeks, Axel developed part of his teenage attitude. He would do everything later.

  Should I do the laundry? I’ll do it later.

  Should I clean? I’ll do it later.

  Should I fix my life? Well, maybe I’ll do it later.

  He felt a crippling lust to try and finish writing some jokes but was quick to remind himself that comedy was only funny when you weren’t the joke yourself. A chuckle brewed in his stomach. He decided to let it out. What the hell, right? The windows were closed. He could act a maniac and laugh hysterically, no one would hear. A heartbroken Axel dragged his useless flesh to the northern corner of the room, where he kept his slippers. They were imprinted with foxes.

  You know it, champ.

  He staggered to the kitchen, where he sat with an appetite for all things physical rather than mental. Axel craved physical warmth, love, and most of all for the gleaming eyes in his audience, on the brink of laughter, to feel real again. His mind hammered and dragged him along the harsh pavement of reality. As he was being dragged, a question in his mind came forth.

  Could I be clinically depressed? Yes, he thought that might be true. He hadn’t felt like himself in the past few weeks. A great vacuum had sucked out all of his joy into a black void. Axel barely felt the weight of his organs anymore. He glanced out of the kitchen window and saw two birds chasing each other. Axel felt an odd shame as he looked out of his window. He felt like he watched a world where he didn’t belong; a world, which didn’t want him. The birds continued their chase, swift and full of life. Behind them, the sky grew ever so blue with daylight. The clouds surfed the blue, slow in speed, but still reminiscent of life. And here sat Axel Gardner, a black dot upon the beautiful canvas of Planet Earth.

  2

  Axel was raised in a beautiful home with a loving mother who took care of him and showed him the world through a golden lens. In her narration, nothing felt wrong with the world. The golden lens she narrated him through was neither dirty nor stained, but rather shiny and warm like the sun, aiding the perspective of joy, along with that wonderful blue sky. Sure, his mother had shown him the ugly side of the world: the dangers of humans and animals alike. She also showed him how to prepare for the dangers of the environment in which the humans and animals inhabited—Mother Nature. In her grace, she protected him from all the physical dangers of the world, never realizing that the mental dangers of the human mind often exceed the physical ones. But, in Axel’s childlike innocence, the ugly side of the world never worried him. As a child, like most children, Axel thought that the golden lens would last forever.

  His interest in comedy grew in elementary school. When Axel grabbed a pen and a paper, along with the freedom of expressing himself upon the empty surface of paper, he did. Many children drew action scenes from recent memories. Axel noted that the color of red was often busy. Many used it to draw blood, a most important feature on an action drawing. Axel drew various characters, often making their head a big, round circle to leave more room for funny facial features. He also applied personalities to these funny characters. He voiced some of them; using a deep voice for the larger characters, and a voice high in pitch for the smaller ones. He brought the drawings home, showed them to Susanne, and his big brother, Duncan. At first glance, none of them laughed a real laugh. It was more of a confused breath than anything else. But when Axel applied the personalities to these characters, voicing them, both his sister and brother burst out in laughter. With his vocabulary small, and his writing still in the early stages, Axel realized that he had a thing for physical comedy. He used this ability well; turning sad moments into happy ones, and turning happy moments into even happier ones. He had the complete freedom of expression, for adults saw him as a child who had no great depth of understanding, therefore not taking him seriously.

  There was one adult who took him more seriously than others, however, and that was his mother, Dee. Most of Axel’s jokes in their home occurred around the dinner table, when all of the Gardner’s were gathered; his own private audience of three. He realized that food could be applied to physical comedy, and blabbered filth whilst chewing on steak. His voice became moist, clear, and
the words slurred. His brother and sister laughed at this, but his mother seemed to take offense to it. She emphasized the importance of manners, but in spite of that, she had a good time at the dinner table. Her children were laughing, spreading joy around one another, and that made her feel proud as a single mother.

  In his teenage years, Axel was still a comedian, joking around with his classmates at school. He didn’t just rely on physical comedy now, but also comedy with depth, meaning. His intelligence had developed, and he started to grow his own image of the world. With this perception, he wrote down many of his jokes. One of the best things about having an interest in writing in school, Axel thought, was the ease of pretending to work when he was really just writing personal jokes. This new, more developed type of adult humor also worked its magic at home. Everything in Susanne and Duncan’s life now had a serious undertone. As the exams got more serious, their mother’s attitude toward studying grew more serious, rubbing off on most of the Gardner family. With this serious undertone, arguments occurred more often, and they were more heated than usual. Everyone was prone to them, falling under their pressure easier than ever. Dee’s children had intense worries, which were juggled in their heads from the time they woke up to the time they went back to bed. The beautiful thing about comedy was that it would take away these worries for a few seconds. In the midst of laughter, people are too busy trying to settle the pain in their stomach, rather than worry about exams and school. Under average circumstances, laughter would be some dozen seconds of a teenager’s day. But in the Gardner family, that span of laughter reached minutes of laughter in one day. It wasn’t much compared to the endless long hours of worry, but it was enough for everyone to keep their head straight.

  They would all sit at the dinner table, talking about the dreadful topic of school and how this sucked, and that sucked harder, and that sucked all the sucks. Then Axel would say something funny and the irritated faces would be slapped with joy. His brother would sometimes ruffle his hair, and his sister would put her hand in front of her mouth to hide the food from showing as her mouth was wide in laughter. Dinner usually took place just before the blue was sucked out of the sky, replaced with black.