Monday, February 23, 2009

Exhibit 7

Haiku, Eh..Bless You?

Gorgeous galaxies
Gathering glamorous glares
Give genuine glee

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Exhibit 6

Haiku, Eh..Bless You?

Friendless fiend finds fun
Favorite forged false fortunes
Formulate fantasy

Monday, February 16, 2009

Exhibit 5

Haiku, Eh?...Bless You?

Elephants elate
Excited enthusiasts
Even elopers




Exhibit 4

Haiku, Eh?...Bless You?

Dashing dead damsel
Dawned defect draped diamonds
Dreading damned duties

Sunday, February 15, 2009

Dear Reality, Leave Us Alone. Love, Society

Haiku, Eh? Bless You?

Calling candidates
Cunning characters commence
Conducing callbacks

Pseudomonas infeckticus

Haiku, Eh?... Bless You?

Barreling bandit
Bringing books based by beliefs
Built between bygones






Exhibit 1

Haiku, Eh?...Bless You?

Against anguish ache
Apart an ant at an arch
Apealing at all



Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Superfluous


Betrayal








Cataclysmic










Disloyal Union of Dignity Pt. 5

Preface:
She strived to be the free spirit she idealized, Stargirl. Although fictional, it appeared to her as a reality, a way to live without interruption. On the surface and through her demeanor it showed like a glistening diamond. She lived in t-shirts from places she’s never been to, sweatshirts that were too many to count, and corduroys she ordered off the internet. She always wore one green and one black Converse, clear nail polish and her hair was kept in a French braid always paired with a single curl dangling near her ear. She enjoyed ice cream in the winter and hot cocoa in the dead heat. She put gummy bears in her ginger ale, still listened to the Backstreet Boys and Vanilla Ice, was addicted to reality television, and had a tattoo of Frida Kahlo on her forearm. She could never sleep with socks on, made her own friendship bracelets, and played the saxophone. She loved turtles and sunflowers, and hated the holidays and snow. She never wore hats or hoods because they made her claustrophobic, was near the top of her class, and had green tea with orange blossom honey running through her blood. She believed in evolution and Global Warming, praised Al Gore and Martha Stewart, and thought that society was corrupt. She had dreams of saving the World, saving herself, and finding something real. She had lost faith in love and superficial relationships ever since she had her heart ripped out. She had one friend, Emerson, since that one summer when everything seemed to change. Although on the outside she appeared avant-garde, deep down she always had a sharp pain to belong. What she loathed the most, she wanted more than anything. She wanted to fit in, she wanted to be accepted for who she was. She never showed that side in public because she wanted to appear strong, that she could put past societies ideals of connections and norms, even in the midst of falling apart. Her name was Juniper: junior in high school, caring, quirky, unconventional, lonely, inside tearing into a million pieces.
*******************
And with that I turned my back on Him, back on the world.

It was the kind of can’t stop thinking, breath racing, stomach acrobating kind of love. I thought that I had finally found someone who would, and could, accept who I was besides silly, old Emerson. His name was Owen. Age: 17, Height: 5’ 10” Eyes: blue, Hair: brown, Occupation: being the most awesome person ever. I never saw him at school before that day he approached me in the hallway.

“Its Juniper right?” I turned so quickly around towards that liquid velvet voice that I almost practically fell right into his arms.
“You bettcha.” I can’t believe I said that. I stood awkwardly, waiting for his reply. God, what could he say to that?
“Ha. “ And with that he smirked at me, blinding everyone within a 20 foot radius with his pearly whites. “My name is Owen.” He held out his hand and I looked at it.
Was I supposed to shake it? That’s not the way I roll so I fist punched his hand and remarked, “It’s nice to meet you.”
A wave of surprise had washed over his face. “That’s quite a way to introduce yourself.” He suggested, still holding that smirk on his face. I couldn’t let myself get distracted.
“So what can I do for you today, Owen? Wait let me save you the trouble. Who name’s their kid after a tree? Did you get dressed in the dark? Or my personal favorite, your mother ship just called, they don’t even want you.”
His expression changed drastically to a face of concern.
“No, no. It’s definitely not like that at all. I would never do something like that.” Glancing deep into his cerulean eyes, I could somehow see that maybe he was actually telling the truth. I could feel my cheeks rushing with blood and reaching 101 degrees at the sight of my embarrassment.
“Oh, I’m really sorry about that. It’s just that after all this time of being this way, I don’t really trust to many people. You know? So if you’re not here to make fun at me, then why are you here? You must not have gotten the memo, its social suicide to be caught with me.”
His smirk returned. “Hmmh. Well I’m not dead yet.” He glanced around suspiciously in the practically empty halls. “I don’t really do this very often, I mean come up to a complete stranger, but I was wondering if maybe you wanted to hang out sometime.” I thought about it intently.
“You are really telling the truth aren’t you?” His eyes stared deep into mine, providing me with his answer.
“So I’ll pick you up Friday at 7:00?”
And with that all I could manage was a nod of my head.

“So what are you going to wear?” Emerson asked me playfully as I was getting ready.
“What do you think?” I questioned back sarcastically.
“For goodness sack Juni.” She said when she realized my lack of wardrobe. “At least wear the brown corduroys with the blue sweatshirt because it brings out your eyes.”
“How many times do I have to tell you Emerson? This is not a date.”
“Sure, whatever you say.” She remarked back, rolling her eyes in the process.
“It’s just two people going out to enjoy mindless, subliminal entertainment as friends.” I hesitated at the word friends. As much as I needed someone just to talk to, I yearned for even more out of this. This wasn’t about what I wanted anymore, this was what I needed to pull myself back together. I needed someone to finally take me in with open arms and never let me go. I needed someone to drink hot chocolate with me in the summer, someone to admire A Self-Portrait for Leon Trotsky with, someone to complain to, someone to tell me everything is going to be alright and to hold on. So on that note, I listened to Emerson’s remarks and picked the blue sweatshirt. Hey, you can’t mess with fate right?

He picked me up exactly at 7:00 in an old, beaten down minivan. I wasn’t shocked at the fact that he actually showed up. Something in his demeanor suggested this was going to be different, he was going to be different. I thought for an instance about how a contestant on America’s Next Super Model would walk towards the car. Left. Right. Sway the hips. Left. Right. Don’t show any emotion. With all my brain cells working overtime to draw from last night’s episode, I forgot that I had never stopped walking at my usual quick pace. Suddenly my feet slipped out from under me as I stumbled down the step to the sidewalk. So much for a good first impression. As gracefully as I could I tried to regain my composure. Glancing into the window of the car, I could tell that he had been laughing for a grin still lingered on his precious face. I felt relieved when I hopped into the passenger seat.

“That was pretty elegant.” He suggested when I was situated in my seat.
“I’ve had a lot of practice I guess.”

My experience with the opposite gender was limited, so get-to-know-you small talk took up at least three-quarters of the car ride.

After a long moment of silence, something I was dreading suddenly popped into my head.
“Do you think that I could ask you a question?” I stumbled out.
“Sure, go ahead” He smoothly replied.
“We’ve never spoken to each other before so why did you ask me to go out tonight?” I glared at him. As he took his time answering the question I had formulated several hypotheses of my own. Scenario 1: This could still all be a ploy and he’ll make a very good FBI agent one day. Scenario 2: He genuinely wanted to get to know me. And my favorite, scenario 3: He wanted to enjoy a carefree life together, live in a house in the country with a white picket fence, have a dog named Microwave, and celebrate our 50th wedding anniversary by going skydiving. I was caught in my daydream when he finally answered the question.
“There is just something about you that I would like to get to know. You are one interesting person.”
“Oh, okay.” Getting to know me? That could take ages. As much as that answer gave me some relief, I could still not rule out scenario 1. He could take this all the way not matter what his eyes say. To trust is to be deceived.
“Now it’s my turn. Why did you accept?” His voice was so irresistible, it was hard to focus.
“Um…I guess I don’t get many offers to go out with people. They see me and tend to run away. So when you came along and said that you wanted to take me out, how could I resist? I just know that we are going to be good friends.” There comes that word again. I blew it. I affirmed what I wanted to be. I glanced at him when I said that word and could sense some disappointment radiating from him as he swallowed hard. There were two solid options to this response. He was just being nice and didn’t want to go out ever again now, or he felt the same thing I did. I needed him.

The rest of the car ride was spent in silence. Boy had I killed the mood. I was glad that we were going to the movies so we could avoid conversation all together.
We were settling into our seats in the theater before the movie started when he tried to salvage the damage I had done.
“I’ve never met anyone, well speaking in terms of girls that loved horror movies before.”
“I just find them so interesting you know? I think it speaks a lot about our society and how we build ourselves up to be these great species, yet we are still so vulnerable to simple things that our mind perceive as dangerous.”
“Yea…I’d have to agree with you on that.” Did I say too much? I’ve scared him back two steps again. I didn’t have too much time to dwell on that idea for to my appeal the giant, dancing popcorn came ripping across the screen and with it music so loud I couldn’t shut it out to escape back to my own fears.

It was half way through the blood and gore when I felt something warm fall gently on my hand sitting inactively on the arm rest. I didn’t know what it was until I glanced down and practically jumped out of my seat. This must be a mistake. Why would his hand be there…on mine? What was this? He must have been stretching and accidently put his hand on mine. I waited a few nanoseconds and when he didn’t move it I got really nervous. I didn’t know what I should do, so I did the only thing I knew how. Run away. I pulled my hand out too aggressively to be taken mildly, mumbled something about having to use the restroom, and jetted out. I heard him call after me. I think he said something about being sorry. I couldn’t think. Why couldn’t I just accept this, it was what I wanted after all. Now there was no chance of us. Not even of being friends; which would have been fine by me at this time. How selfish of me.

I sat at the first bench I saw and tried to slow down my racing heartbeat. I nestled my face in my hands and started to recite Frost in my head to calm myself down. Two roads diverged in a yellow woods, and sorry I could not take them both, and be one traveler, long I stood… I felt the cushion move next to me. He came back, came back after me.

His soul exploded for all to see and glance at. “Look, I’m really sorry about what happened back there. I don’t know what I was thinking. I mean you said in the car that you wanted to be friends and here I am taking advantage of you. It’s just that, when I’m around you I feel alive. In some strange way, even though we just met each other, you complete me. I can understand if you want me to take you home now, and I can understand even more if you want me to stay out of your life forever. Just give me the word and you will never see me ever aga…”
“I liked it.” I blurted out. I needed it to stop. I caused this with my lies of deceit. I couldn’t lie anymore, not to myself or him. I de-cradled my blistering head and looked at him. How could I cause this boy so much pain? If I knew anything about wanting to be wanted. To be wanted was to be needed, to be needed was to belong, to belong was to be completed
“Oh.” He leaned back, but still held a look of distress on his perfectly proportioned face. No face should ever have that on it, especially his.
“You kind of caught me off guard. I didn’t know how to react. I haven’t had much experience with people and then here you come along. This is entirely my fault. All that talk about being friends made me cringe. I want to be more than that with you. You just make me so nervous.”
His expression changed back to a sign of relief and he let out a long breath. And with that we sat there for what seemed like an eternity, even though it was probably only ten minutes feeling the moment. I wished this would never end. He broke the silence first, as if we were playing that stupid elementary game.
“So what now?”
“I don’t think that we could go back in there. We probably upset the whole theater.”
“Ha. Yea that’s true. Do you want to just go for a walk or something?”
“I would love that.” He got up before me and offered me his hand. I could get used to this.

We didn’t see each other the rest of the weekend but we talked every waking minute on the phone. He was in the same grade as me, loved Andy Warhol, praised An Inconvenient Truth, and drank pomegranate green tea. He looked to the stars for advice, made a mean chicken cacciatore, and studied history all the time. He read Thoreau, listened to Blind Melon, wanted to travel to Russia, and had a pet tarantula named Dog. Even through the silence, knowing he was there brought me comfort. He was more than I could ever imagine him to be. And best of all he accepted me for me. I didn’t have to hide anything from him. I needed him to sew me back together.
He promised to pick me up for school. I could feel my heart pounding as a prodded down the runway towards his car. He got out before I reached it and opened the door for me.
“Hey, baby.” Remember to breathe.
“Hey.” I managed to stutter out. I pinched myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.
We made the same small talk we did the last time we saw each other; which was fine by me because I was still getting used to having someone there to actually listen to me when I spoke.
He pulled into an open spot when we got to school. I opened my door before he could come all the way around. Was I supposed to wait? I thought that chivalry was dead.
“Did I tell you how nice you look today?” He said glancing me over again. I knew that sweatshirts and corduroys were comfortable attire, but nice? Really?
“Thanks. You don’t look to shabby yourself.” And with that he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and we floated through the front door of the school building.
At first the glares meant nothing, but then they got worse and the whispers went from murmurs to barely audible.
“When did that happen?” I heard.
“I thought he was going to ask me to prom.” That one caught me off guard.
“There goes Owen’s popularity.” Popular? He didn’t say anything about that
“They won’t last long.” A shot through the heart.
We walked through the endless maze of ridiculers and ended at a group of people that I had an easy time recognizing by their footwear. I could never look at their faces. They were the it crowd. They had everything. Money, good looks, acceptance, friends. Why was he taking me here? They were my worst adversaries. I couldn’t go a day without hearing some kind of remark from them. I tried to slow down our walk and maybe even stop it, but his strong body so close to mine would not budge.
“It’s okay.” He whispered into my ear. I melted.
“Hey guys.” Owen pronounced reluctantly as we finally met my makers. He got no response, only disenchanted faces. Ten eyes glared down at me as I tried to look anywhere but at them. At least this explained why I never saw him before. I avoided these people at all costs and never dared offered my eyes to their devise.
“I can’t believe you Owen.” The blonde one, Jennipher, said. Was that aimed at me? “What do you think you are doing to yourself not to mention to us.” She said that as she motioned to everyone with her hand.
“Cut it out Jen. You have no say in this.”
“You better watch yourself.” She retorted back sharply under her breathe.
“Come on Juniper, we should go.” He turned our direction and we walked away.

The next couple of weeks were spent pretty much the same way. He would pick me up for school and we would dart stares and remarks all day and he would drop me off at home. Moments away from school were a refuge. We wasted the nights away talking about nothingness, and spent the weekends lying on the hood of his car staring at the stars. I didn’t care what we did as long as we were together.

It all came to a sharp end over the course of a week. I blame myself for not seeing it coming. I guess I trusted him too much. He started to make excuses why he couldn’t talk on the phone or hang out and eventually he quite calling anymore. He stopped picking me up for school and was awkwardly silent and distressed when we would walk around the halls. When I questioned him about it he said that he was just tired. Ha, tired of being with me. It was on the last day, the unspeakable day that the last straw had been drawn. Touché, mi amor. Tou freaking ché.

I was rounding the corner of the hallway at school well after everyone had gone home when I saw him leaning against a locker. He was playfully talking to Jennipher. And by playfully I mean flirty. I didn’t know what to think. It felt like someone was cutting me open. She leaned in for a kiss which he didn’t refuse. Oops, my heart just fell out.
“I can’t believe you went out with that thing.” Someone stomped on my heart.
“I don’t know what I was thinking. You know you are the one for me.” 911. I need to be put back together. Hurry.
“I knew it was only time before you would change your mind.” Too late. It’s too late. It already has dirt and footprints on it. I don’t want it back. I don’t want it back.
I tried to keep my composure, to keep this civil. I wanted to rip out every single one of her blonde hairs one by one… And looked down as far as I could, to where it bent in the undergrowth. Oh, screw everything. I couldn’t handle it anymore. I dropped my bag of books where I stood and the noise belted through the hallway. He turned to look at me and I turned away, walking as fast as I could but still in ear shot distance.
“Juniper, wait.”I didn’t slow.
“You aren’t seriously going after her are you?” I could hear footsteps following me faster than my feet could take me. He grabbed my shoulder forcing me to halt my journey.
“Let go of me.” I shot at him. Not looking into his eyes.
“It’s not what you think.” No she was suffocating and you were just giving her mouth to mouth. Cut me some slack will ya?
“I saw you with her.” He really was stupid. What a jerk!
“I didn’t mean for it to end like this.” Garbage. You meant everything to me. Everything.
“I dreamt about being with you forever. I hate you.” And with that I turned my back on him, back on the world.

The next few weeks went by in a haze, and I lived as if I weren’t even living anymore. I got up, went to school, got home, went to bed, and repeated.

Every time someone stared, snickered, or remarked at me, it was like I lived the entire thing all over again. I walked the hallways without ever once looking anyone in the eye. I only saw feet, I only saw shoes. They wouldn’t hurt me would they? Ha. Wrong. Dead Wrong. Too simple to be deceptive? I think not.

I was making my way to my biology lab, four weeks, three days, and 52 minutes after the last straw had been drawn, when I saw their feet. All perfectly laced, all perfectly polished, all perfectly expensive, all perfectly two different colored shoes? Say it ain’t so. I wished I didn’t look up. I wished I didn’t follow his legs wrapped in corduroy up to his perfectly formed body, to his perfectly uniformed face, to his perfectly speckled blue eyes. Really? What was this some kind of sick homage to your defeat of my soul? I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to rip that dirty blonde off his arm. I wanted to grab him and never let go.
“Well look what the cat dragged in.” Jennipher said in a mocking tone. She cued her entourage to laugh at her pitiful excuse of a joke. I used all my will to not pounce on her.
“Leave her alone, will ya Jen? What did she ever do to you?” Owen remarked back. Oh now you come to my rescue. Jerk.
“Ha. She’s breathing isn’t she?” Another cue.
“Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t see your name on this air. Did your daddy buy it for you? My mistake.” And with that I puffed up my cheeks to emphasize the fact that I began holding my breath. Did I just talk to her? I know I saw a shockwave of surprise form on her face. She better pour acid in her ears to clean them out. I thought that I saw a smirk birth on his face. I didn’t want to stick around to confirm. I need him still. I don’t need him at all. I needed to get out of there before I suffocated from my wants and my lack of air.

***************
We stopped at little diner off Route 15 to refuel. It looked really quaint and humble like it was straight out of a tourist magazine. The door jingled when we stepped inside. Immediately I was overwhelmed by the smell of hamburgers and cherry pie. I was famished.
“What can I get for you darlings?” The little old waitress asked us after we looked over the items available.
“A coke and a cheeseburger.” Emerson said.
“I’ll have the same thing, except hold the cheese and make mine a ginger ale.” She smiled like she just heard something really funny and took our menus away. Was it me? Probably.
Our food came out pretty fast which was expected because it was pretty empty, aside from the people sitting at the counter who were probably regulars. About halfway through, our meal was interrupted.

He came in through the door like he didn’t have any agenda, like he was on his own terms, and didn’t know where he was headed and was fine with that.

He looked at us when he came in, his blue eyes flashing against the leather of his jacket. He moved his way towards our table. What could he want from us? We must have stuck out like a sour thumb against all the elders getting the early bird specials.

“Well hello ladies.” He said suavely. He motioned Emerson to move over so he could join us. He couldn’t have been older than 17 or 18. He was alone. “The name’s Diego.” No way. “Named after Diego Rivera that is. My mom has this obsession with him. Me, I like his wife better.” Frida Kahlo’s husband. No way. No way. I held my jaw open and sucked in a long breathe. Emerson kicked me to keep my composure. I couldn’t trust him yet. I could give him all the trust in the world.
“Emerson.”
“Juniper.” I stuttered out.
“Wait. Like the tree Juniper?” Like I haven’t heard that one before. They are all the same aren’t they?
“Yea.” I said back bitterly. I hope I didn’t seem cold.
“Wow, that’s a pretty name. Symbolic of loveliness.” Seriously? I blushed. Smart and charming.
“So what brings you ladies out here?”
“We are on a road trip out west.” I didn’t know what his intentions were, so I wanted to keep our location as vague as possible. However charismatic he may have been, he could be a serial killer as far we knew. Luring his victims in with his wit and gorgeousness and then slashing their throats with his pocket knife. I could see him taking a finger or two as souvenirs. He would preserve them and hang them up in his lair by fishing line so they would look like they were just suspended there without any attachments.
“Interesting. Any particular reason?” Darn. He interrupted my daydream.
“Just visiting family,” Emerson suggested, winking at me. I guess she understood what I was trying to do. “And yourself?”
“Actually I’m headed on a road trip out east. Well I guess it really isn’t a road trip. My family is moving there. They took the plane. I decided to take the long way, you know figure some things out. I just want to find something real, ya know? God society is too corrupt.” I swallowed hard. He said it like we were his best friends.
I really looked into his eyes at that moment. Cerulean. I didn’t know if I could handle this. The memory of everything flew into my head and I felt really nauseous. I think I may either throw up or cry. Maybe both. Did he have to be so perfect? Did he have to have his eyes? All of sudden he realized what was happening and I looked away fast. Could he read me? I didn’t think that I was an open book.
“Is something wrong?” He questioned concerned. A crease formed in his brow line.
“No, no it’s. You just look like someone I knew.”
“Oh. Good or bad?”
“Eh.” I shrugged and he laughed. I melted and what’s his name disappeared. I could listen to his laugh forever. It was perfect. Stuck right in the middle of being too soft and too obtrusive.
“Hey guys, I just thought of something. I met some really cool people down at The River. It’s this really cool hang out place. They’re having a party tonight. Would you ladies like to come?” He moved back into his debonair voice.
I looked at Emerson at the same moment she looked at me. Careful observations lead me to believe that he was genuine. That hasn’t been the case though in the past. This could be fun. This could be dangerous. I wanted to do it.
“Okay. You twisted our arms.” I spoke before Emerson could speak. She looked at me condescendingly. She knew what I was doing, and her reaction turned to excitement. She trusted my decision. She was too trustworthy sometimes.
“7:00. Down the road and make a right. You can’t miss it… Catch you ladies later then. “And with that all I could manage was a nod of my head.

He was right. We couldn’t miss it. The bon fire was like a giant smoke symbol. You could probably see it from a jumbo jet, 20,000 feet up in the air, free as a bird. I parked the car on the roadside, and Emerson and I walked giggling towards the action. I felt alive. I felt better like I was in fourth grade again. Carefree. Innocent. Amused.
“Ladies, ladies. I’m glad you came.” Diego greeted us when he saw us moving in. “I want to introduce you to some people.” He started to walk away. Emerson needed to kick me again to put me in focus. We followed him ending at a group of four people. “This is Cambridge, Rosaline, Igor, and Tallulah. Everyone this is Emerson and Juniper.”
“Pleasure to meet you.” Cambridge said and sort of bowed at the same time. He had a quiet manner about him, like he was a giant puzzle waiting to get unwrapped.
“Nice tat.” Tallulah proclaimed. For a minute I was perplexed about what she meant. I then realized that I had rolled up my sweatshirt sleeves in the car.
“Thanks.” I said almost embarrassed that I took so long to respond. I saw Diego’s eyes dilate as he saw my arm. I started to bite my lip as a lump formed in my throat.
We spent the next hour getting to know everyone else by firing questions back and forth. They never judged me but rather took in what I had to say like it was the most interesting thing they ever heard. They were all so unique themselves, so different and yet they were of one body. Cambridge was the quiet intellect that knew more about everything than was probably good for him. Rosaline was the beauty of the group graced by blonde hair, blue eyes, perfect skin. She never let it showed once how pretty she really was. She never flaunted about anything. Her humbleness was well, humbling. Igor was the brute force of the group. His muscles were practically bulging right out of his shirt. Yet he confided in us that he would never hurt a fly, liked to bake cookies for the nursing home, and listened to classical music. Tallulah was definitely the rebel. She had tattoos of miscellaneous items running up and down her arms that included a cupcake, a giraffe, a beaker, and what looked like a Russian nesting doll. She didn’t have an attitude unless you gave her lip, then watch out. She had the mouth of a sailor. Diego didn’t look like he fit into the group. He stood off to the side and had a constant look of thinking on his face.

Before we knew it, it was getting dark out and we drifted back into our own thoughts. That darkness was cut, if ever so slightly, by the blaring fire in the middle of the river bank. I was deep into one of my storage bins when Diego asked me to go on a walk. I was reluctant to accept. I didn’t want to leave Emerson all alone in a place we’ve never been before. I looked at her and could tell she would be fine for just a minute. She was warming up to Cambridge. They were locked in a conversation about something intriguing.

He tried to give me his hand but I smugly got up without his help. I hope I didn’t offend him. We walked for a little ways until we came to a gradual stop.

“Why didn’t you tell me you like Frida?” I bite my lip.
“I don’t really know. I guess I didn’t think of it.” Liar. Liar. Pants on fire. You have a bloody tattoo of her on your arm for goodness sake. Get real.
“You are one interesting person, I have to admit.”
“Interesting in a good way or bad way?”
“Eh.” He shrugged and I laughed. I haven’t laughed like this in ages. Something has got to go wrong.

We stood in twilight together looking for answers in the stars. I stared again into his eyes. They looked the same. They looked identical. It started to pour in again. Not just that incident but everything. Every single damn thing. I couldn’t stop it. It took my breath away. I thought I was over him. I couldn’t do it. I was suffocating. It hurt too much. I never got my heart transplant yet. He went to grab my hand as a tear started to flow down my cheek gracefully. I reacted violently by pulling away suddenly. He looked at me very uneasily. His head turned to the side like he was trying to figure something out.
“I’m so sorry. I just can’t. Forgive me” I mouthed to him and ran to find Emerson. I think he nodded and said something about how he would wait until I healed. That he understood. What did he know about me? I hope he would forgive me because I could never forgive myself. Selfish. I would never see him again. We were both headed in opposite directions and we both had opposite agendas that somehow melded together like they were of the same.

Sunday, February 8, 2009

Calling Lauren, Are you there?

I wonder sometimes if she still lives in that brick house on the corner with the underground pool we were always too afraid to go in farther than our feet. I wonder if she remembers the time I told her a joke and milk came out of her nose. I remember her laughter but not the joke, maybe it wasn’t even that funny, but maybe she just laughed because we understood each other. I wonder if she remembers the innocence we felt on that day when she said we would be best friends forever. When she said we would call each other everyday and have sleepovers ever weekend. Why didn’t she ever call? Why didn’t I ever call? Why was the last time I saw her nine years and three months ago? Was I too naive to understand that would be the last time we would see each other? Am I still too naive to understand that I am at fault for losing my best friend?
We pulled up in our big, yellow submarine almost four hours later than when we departed from headquarters to our final mission location. Well, okay so maybe I made that up. Maybe it was a big, yellow school bus and maybe it was from my second grade school; and, well, maybe it was the zoo we ended up at. Who cares anyway? Nothing mattered to me I was young and with my best friends in the whole entire world or rather the whole entire universe which stretches from, hold on, “My Very Energetic Mother Just Served Us Nine Pizzas,” Mercury to Pluto. I’m not sure but that is a really, really big space. Okay so where was I? Ohh! I was telling you about my trip to the zoo, but not just any zoo, Space Farms. This trip would be the last one I would ever go on with my school because my family was going to move right after this final journey. Ironically the zoo is located in the town we would call our new home. I never worried about leaving my friends behind because we would still see each other everyday, right? Okay so now that’s out of the way let me get to the heart of the story.
We pulled up in our big, yellow school bus almost one whole hour later from when we departed from the school. Everyone started to pile off the bus in a somewhat orderly fashion as we were instructed by Sister Joan. I don’t remember what hit me first, the smell or how big the place seemed to someone only four feet and half tall, give or take. I gave myself a twirl around to get a glimpse at everything there was to see, to absorb my surroundings. My attention was drawn to something shiny guarding the gate to get in; a silver lion rested outside the building. I hoped we would be able to see something that cool.
“Now everyone get into your buddy groups and we shall proceed into the zoo.” Sister Joan pronounced over all the jittery children all dressed in blue shorts and blue shirts proclaiming where we were from, “St. Leos School.”
I was already in my group, my friend Selene was standing to my left and my best friend Lauren was on my right. Selene had dark hair, and the darkest eyes I’d ever seen. She had darker skin than I did and was of Indian descent, I think. Although she seemed quiet in person, when we got together there was no telling what would happen. We had just become friends that year and had already shared so many laughs. Lauren had yellow hair, deep blue eyes, and big teeth that protruded every time she smiled. I thought it made her look like a walrus. We had known each other since kindergarten. Every weekend it seemed we would be at one of our houses laughing, enjoying a good old game of hide and seek, or playing with our Easy Bake Ovens. I still have my oven. It rests comfortably, undisturbed in the attic above my head. I found it one day and it still smelled like chocolate cake. It took me back, back to time when things where so much simpler, when boys had cooties, when friends always listened, when recess was short and worries were few, when your clothes didn’t need to match, when decisions where made using eeny meanie miny moe, when goodbye meant only till tomorrow, when the night light in our room quieted all our fears. I want to feel innocent again. I want my best friend back who made everything seem easy.
Everyone followed in a straight line behind Sister Joan as she stopped by a booth positioned on the side of the building and exchanged some kind of papers to the old lady situated behind a sheet of glass. She reminded me of my grandmother with all the lines she had on her face. I snickered under my breath when we walked past her.
Once we were in the true part of the zoo I could really sense how big it was. It just seemed to go on forever and ever. I hoped this day would never end. With the glaring sun beating down on our little heads, Sister Joan divided all the buddy groups into four different larger groups, each with a different advisor.
We followed our leader past cages filled with animals and finally stopped on one that had two big tigers resting on a concrete slab. They seemed huge in comparison to the eight bodies staring back at them.
“Rarrr!” I made a clawing gesture towards Selene who was staring at the cage intently. I guess she didn’t see it coming because she screamed. Not the kind of scream when you see a spider and not the kind of scream when you see one of those really scary movies, but something kind of in the middle. I guess I didn’t anticipate her screaming, either, because I let something out too. A little something, I didn’t want to show how really off guard she caught me. And, well, I guess the tigers didn’t expect it either and all of a sudden they got up and started to circle their cages. All three of us became wide-eyed and ran back towards a patch of grass. We when got there, we were all out of breathe, but that didn’t stop us from laughing our faces off. They were never going to hurt us, I mean there were steel bars separating our world from theirs.
“Did you see your face?” Lauren asked Selene. She couldn’t answer because she was laughing too hard to even hear what she said. After we caught our breathes, we ran up with our group who was already looking at black bears. From there we went on to see turkeys, goats, a kangaroo, buffalos, and then we stopped to look at the deer.
“Ohh, look how cute the deers are.” Selene proclaimed as we got up closer. Two deer came up the fence. Brown fur engulfed their entire bodies, however some white peeked out under their bellies and on their tails. They looked at us intently through the bars on the cage, four eyes staring at six. I thought we were playing a game; I was waiting to see who was going to blink first. They never blinked. They just stared at us through the fence, not moving the slightest. They didn’t have to move to tell their story, their eyes said enough. I was too young to understand what I witnessed in their eyes that day, the sadness, the pain, the loss of innocence. A year prior they were probably out in the woods, running around freely. Now what were they subject to? A 15 by 15 cell with a slab of cold concrete to sleep on. I heard the crunching of leaves behind the deer and saw a third one pull in beside them. It was now six on six. Something was different about this one. The place where his antlers should have been was replaced by big pools of bright, red blood. That image has been permanently burned into my memory. I cannot look at a deer without seeing that poor one back in the zoo, so sad and in so much pain. I didn’t comprehend it so in my immaturity I had only one thing to say, “Ewwww, that’s so gross.” And then we walked away without any remorse.
After our encounter with the deer we decided to take a break for lunch. We picked a nice spot underneath a large tree that offered shade from the blaring sun. As I was about to take a bite of my PB and J sandwich, a light breeze came through where we were sitting. With the wind, came Lauren’s voice, “We’re going to call each other everyday, right?”
I had to think about what she was talking about. I don’t know if I didn’t want to face the facts or I had no concept of what was about to happen. “Of course we are. What are best friends for?”
“We should have sleepovers every weekend. You know we should just keep it like old times. Nothing should have to change just because you’re moving.”
“I agree. I mean if we didn’t have school it we would totally see each other like everyday.”
“Yeah, totally.” I could sense something was, in my naive little ways, wrong. There was some hesitation in her voice. She was getting me worried. We would call each other everyday wouldn’t we? And every weekend a sleepover just like she promised? Deep down I knew everything was going to be alright, it always was. She made it that way. She was nurturing and caring, the best person I had ever met.
“How about a picture of the three of you?” Sister Joan said behind us. She caught me by surprise in my deep train of adolescent thought.
We all got up and posed for the picture. I put my arms around their shoulders; the piece of lemon licorice in my mouth tinged as the flash went off and caused temporary blindness. That’s all I remember. I don’t remember what happened after that. I don’t remember if we saw anymore animals or even happened on the bus ride home. I don’t remember even saying goodbye; although I’m sure it was heartfelt and involved some Kleenex. Or did I even say goodbye because I didn’t want to face the facts or I thought I would still see her, because goodbye is such a vague word. Goodbye for now, goodbye until we see each other again, goodbye until we call each other, goodbye forever.
The next day was moving day. It was cold and rainy for a June day. I remember the moving trucks pulling up, and loading our lives into the back. I should have called her to reassure her of our promises, to make sure she knew what the plan was. I wonder if she even remembers me now and the last time we saw each other. If she ever came across those bracelets we made in first grade that said “best frendz,” would she think of me and our purity in misspelling friends? I wonder if I bumped into her on the streets, if she would even recognize me. I don’t think I would recognize her, I mean nine years and three months is a long time. I don’t look the same. What does she even look like now? Is her hair short, maybe she dyed it? Did she ever grow into her adult teeth? Was she even able to move on after our departure or did she wait by the phone in hopes that I’d call. Why didn’t I ever call? Why didn’t she ever call? We both broke our false promises.