Day 96 - Letters

     I prefer to write you letters.  When I write you a letter I am taking time out of my day to think about you.  When I write you a letter I actually take my glasses off so I can read what I'm writing.  My age is getting to me.

     I write my letters by hand.  I leave the mistakes to show my humanity.  Sometimes e-mail and text can be too perfect.  Occasionally there is a funny little auto correct but for the most part texts are short pseudo sentences that are a quick action or reaction to something immediate that may or may not need a response.

     When I write to you I stop to look at the world around me and I think about how I can share it with you.  When I text you I look at the screen and try to see how fast my thumbs can move.

     If I'm lucky your text back will be immediate and it will almost be like we're having a conversation.  It doesn't matter if you're in Connecticut coming up with reasons why we can't hang out, in California wondering why we haven't hung out, or in Europe wondering why I won't fly out.

     When I write a letter I'm lucky if the letter gets to you.  Sometimes it is just lost in space.  Other times it is taken by someone who feels I have no business writing to you in the first place.

     When I send you a text lately I have been worried about your safety.  I am hoping that the regional tragedy that has struck your area hasn't somehow taken you, my friend or acquaintance, away from me.  My text is a knee jerk reaction to fear.

     When I send you a letter I have time.  I am safe and I'm hoping you are, too.  I don't have a fear that I'll never see you again.  I'm not worried while I wait for your response back.  It's still like we're having a conversation BUT it's a more leisurely, relaxed conversation where we are allowed to laugh and smile quietly.

     When I read your letters I know you've taken time out of your day to think about me.  I actually have to take my glasses off so I can read what you've written.  My age is getting to me.

Day 95 - Momentum Part 2

     My Father pulled his car just passed the little sedan and clicked on his hazard lights.  You always turn your hazard lights on because you never know what to expect.

     "Stay in the car.  We need to see if we can get this puddle jumper out before the plows come."  The sedan was just passed the turn.  A plow coming at full speed wouldn't see it.  It wouldn't have mattered if we had cell phones at the time.  To this day there is no cell service on that strip of road.

     "OK,” I said.  He stepped out of the car and looked back and forth to see if anything was coming.  I rolled down my window and poked my head out to see what was happening.
     The little sedan was still.
     "Hello,” I heard my father call out.  "Hello?"  A light snow started.  He slowly moved towards the car.
     A young female Stotler rolled the window down.  There were tears in her eyes.
     "My parents are going to kill me," she said.
     "Are you hurt?" he asked.
     "No," she said sadly.  "I'm just stuck.  I was trying to get home from work before the storm."
     He crossed his arms and surveyed the situation.  You could tell he was holding back a lecture.  He looked up and down the road to see if anything was coming other than the storm.
     "Doesn't look like there's any damage to the car.  We can get you out," he finally declared.
     "I don't think," she started.
     "Well, we could drive to the nearest house and call George to see if he'll be able to tow it out.  I think he'll charge about $50.  I don't have $50.  Do you?"
     "No," she said crying a little.
     "I also want to try to get this out before the snow plow comes.  We're too close to the corner for them to see you.  They'll just bury you deeper.  Let me get behind the wheel.  Just let me know if anything is coming around the corner."
      My father sat in the little sedan.  The vehicle moved forward just a little then back just a little.  The next time it moved forward just a bit more then back just a bit more.  Finally, with one great lurch back, the car broke free of its snow prison.
     My father looked at both if us for a second and then drove the car back into the snow bank.
     "What...why...Mr.," she stammered.  "We were out."
     I was confused, too.
     "Come on out of the car, son."  He called, motioning me over to the little sedan.
     "I helped you get the car out.  Did you watch what I did to get it out?"
     "Yes, but,"
     "Good," He said definitively.  "Son, make sure no cars are coming."  I ran to the other side of the road, checked both ways, and gave him the ok sign.
     "You won't always have someone to help you get out when you get stuck.  You need to be able to survey the situation and get your self out when you can.  I know you can do this."
     With a deep breath she climbed into the driver’s seat.  The little sedan moved forward just a little then back just a little.  The next time it moved forward just a bit more then back just a bit more.  Finally it broke free.
     "I did it!"  She said, poking her head out the window.  "I did it.  I did it!"
     "Now, slow and steady," he instructed.  "No reason to try to fly home.  Your house ain't goin' no where.  You just have to get there safe.  Slow and steady is how you do it."
     We watched the car slowly disappear into the night.
     "My sister."  He said as we got back into the car.  "I'll have my sister dance with me at the telethon."

     I looked at him with a bit of confusion.

     "You won't always have someone to help you out when you get stuck but sometimes with a quick survey of the situation you can get out."

    

 

Day 95 - Momentum Part 1

     Winters in New England tend to be long drawn out affairs.  I am not a big fan of the cold or the snow but I must admit one of my favorite sounds in the world is the sound of snow falling at midnight.  Even if the machines are trying to hammer their way through my skull they will stop for a moment to listen and enjoy the peace.

     The ride home with my Dad was quiet.  We were driving home from a theater that had once been a national landmark.  We were going to be in a telethon to raise money for its restoration.

     I was playing a few Hendrix tunes.  He was performing a dance tribute to James Brown.

     "It just needs something," he said.  I could tell he was working out the steps in his head.

     He had plenty of time to work it out.  The recent snowfall made driving home on the back roads a nightmare.

     "Slow and steady," he instructed.  "When you get your license in a few months some of this mess will still be on ground.  No reason to try to fly home.  The house ain't goin' no where.  You just have to get there safe.  Slow and steady is how you do it.  As long as you have the momentum to keep moving you'll get where you need to go."

     A little sedan passed us on the left and disappeared around the corner.

     "No reason for anybody to be passing on roads like this," he said shaking his head. "Isn't that your friend, Stotler?"  He raised an eyebrow.  "Looks like his parents car and they're out of town."

     "No?"  I said, wondering out loud if it was true.  There had been incidents with bikes, quads, and snowmobiles so the question of a Stotler joyride in the snow wasn't far fetched.

     "He doesn't have his license so I don't think he'd be that stupid."  I questioned myself again.

     My father had raised children for years.  He was well aware of the stupidity of teenage boys.

     "All that matters is that the boy gets home safe."  He shook his head with the concern of a parent.

     Curtis Mayfield played quietly in the tape deck.  Between songs you could hear the crunching of snow beneath the tires.  This was just the beginning of the storm.  It was supposed to snow heavily from midnight until mid afternoon the next day.  We would be home well before midnight that night.  Everyone knew school was going to be canceled.  This meant I could stay up and listen to the snowfall.

     "Damn it."  I heard him say as we came around a corner.  The little sedan had gone off the road into a snow bank.

     Winters in New England tend to be long drawn out affairs.

Day 94 - Wings & Things

     "So let me get this straight," continued Derich finishing off the last Thai flavored wing.  "You just let her leave?"

     "She was up and gone before I was able to say anything else and I..."

     "Poohstabber."  He said shaking his head.  He dropped the well picked bone into the basket.  "It's been years and this still seems to be a pattern with you.  Some woman is all about hanging out with you then after a little while she's all about getting away from you."

     "In my defense," I started, about to enjoy one of the dry Cajun wings, "she..."

     "What was the super hot Asian chick's name," he interrupted, "You know?  She's friends with that chick, Paris.  Twinkie, Kinky?"  

     "Kiki, god damn it!  Her name is Kiki."

     "Whatever, the same thing happened with her over and over again."  He took a deep pull on his beer.  "Love these wings by the way."

     I had introduced him to my favorite wing place near work.  It was a rare Sunday that Derich was able to get out.  He was a married man now with two kids under the age of four.  He was happy to do anything that got him out of the house or away from the office for a few hours.

     To everyone's surprise he and the wife were doing really well.  It was one of the few weddings that I actually put money on to last.  The odds were so high against it that even the hardcore wedding folks didn't think it would work out.

     "This is different.  She said no."  I dropped the bone in the basket.  "As far as I'm concerned everything ends at no.  Even if she wants to get down to business later I just can't.  I think of my friend Marcus and how his life fell to shit."

     "This conversation is far too deep for wings and things.  I'm going to need shots if this is going to keep circling the drain."  He bit into a dry Cajun wing and his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

     "You know we can't do shots," I said.  "She'll kill us.  We're both lucky you're out now.  If you call home two hours late, fucked in half drunk, you might as well plan on freezing to death sleeping in your car because she will NOT let you in the house. Personally, I won't be a party to that.  We'll talk about it later."  I picked up the last tasty Cajun wing.

     He pushed himself away from the bar, crossed his arms, and tried to look into my soul.  I could hear the machines starting to whir.

     "You need to get out of your own head.  It's like a pattern with you.  Just when you are about to open things up and get to the next level you find a reason to shut down.  What's going on?"

     I took a quick look up and saw myself in the mirror behind the bottles.  I could clearly see I was hiding but I didn't know what or from whom.  The machines whispering whir cascaded to a cacophonous clanking.

     "Love these wings."  I said as I dropped the last bone in the bucket.

Day 93 - No Means...

     "I hope you don't mind," she said moving back to her side of the couch.

     "I'm fine," I answered waiting for the blood to return to the rest of my body.

     "I've never seen anyone react to a no like that before.  It was so awesome.  Most guys just don't get it.  You just stopped."  She looked comfortable.  "I tell you no and you get it.  No means no."  She came in for a kiss on the cheek.

     I thought back to my friend Marcus and tensed up a bit. 

     "There is a great caveat in the male female dynamic when it comes to the word no," I said quickly backing away.  "I like to stay on the side of caution.  Most guys think of it as a challenge.  I think of it as a definitive statement.  I understand the definition of the word no."

     "Good.  I like that.  Maybe next time..."

     "Oh there won't be a next time."

     "What do you mean?"

     I remember the look on Marcus's face when the police showed up at his parent's house to ask him a few questions about his last date.

     "The good thing about No is that I honor the word.  I don't push.  I don't beg.  I don't plead.  I respect your decision.  But to me no doesn't just mean no.  It means never.

     "It means we can still be friends.  I have handshakes and hugs for you but this situation?  This here?  This won't happen again."

     "What the fuck?!?"  She said.  The comfortable look was gone from her face.  "I tell you no and then you tell me this will never happen?!?  Who the fuck do you think you are?"  I have never seen a woman more angry than when I have said no to her or I have respected her no.

     I remember Marcus sitting on his couch head down in front of his parents recounting the story of his hook up.  I remember the state trooper writing everything down while he occasionally looked at his audio recorder to make sure it was still taping. 

     I remember the trooper noticing discrepancies in the opposing parties statements.  He let Marcus know he would have to go back and look at the situation.  He also let Marcus know even if the prosecutor didn't press charges right away he had three years to change his mind.

     I remember being asked to leave while he talked with his family about what their next moves were.  I remember my friend's voice break with tears just before the door shut.

     "Seriously, who do you think you are?"

     I took a deep breath.  I thought about the irony of this whole thing.  She was the one who said no.  I abided by her wishes.  This wasn't a game to me.  No doesn't just mean no.  No means never.  I thought she was going to hit me.

     "I'm just some guy who wants to make sure there's no doubt in the future.  You said no and I'm abiding by that no.  I didn't question your request to stop.  I ask that you have the decency not to pursue this any further.  When you're less angry this will make sense.  You're welcome to stay and talk if you want but that's about as far as it's going to go."

     She slammed the door on her way out without saying good-bye.

     "I'm fine," I told myself as I took a deep breath and felt the blood return to the rest of my body.

Day 92 - What If

     "I hear your night was a little rough last Thursday," Karen's voice laughed a little through the phone.
     "I'm ok," I answered trying to figure which room of the house I was in.  I had a vague memory of excusing myself to Amber and Tony.  I gave the lame excuse of having to work early on Friday.  Truth is I was thrown back into hibernation mode.
     There is a moment when I'm out and about that a little switch clicks.  No matter what I'm doing or where I am I have an undying urge to get home.  I could be having the best time ever but when that switch clicks it's over.  The world around me becomes mute and it feels like a beacon is blinking in the distance.
     Initially I thought it was because I saw the ex but then I realized that I just wasn't ready to be out yet.
     "Are you sure?" Karen asked snapping me back to attention.  "Tony said you kind of bolted out of there."
     The fact that they still talked amazed me.  I know people who were married for five years that fight tooth and nail for every dime and picture in the house.  These two were together for almost 30 years before they were divorced and still had breakfast on Saturdays.
     "I just had to get out of there.  I wanted to make sure the night didn't get away from me."  I realized I was on the living room couch with my cat sitting on my chest.  "It was in my best interest to have my feet hit the street when they did.
     "It sounds like Tony got home all right.  He did get home all right, didn't he?"  I did a quick check to make sure I was wearing my own clothes.  "I was convinced he was all right."
     "He's ok.  Amber is ok, too.  He called me to let me know he got home all right."  She paused for a moment.  I was waiting for the worst.  I was waiting for the how dare you.  I was waiting for the 'What were you thinking?!?'
     "Thank you," she said quietly.  "Thank you for being a friend to both of us.  Thank you for not taking sides.  Thank you for making this transition as easy as possible."
     My kitty meowed as I sat up and she lost her warm spot.
     "You're welcome, my friend.  Sounds like it wasn't me who had a rough night.  You ok?"
     "Yes.  I know Tony and I did the right thing but every once in a while you remember the good times.  You just ask yourself 'What if?' and you wonder for a moment.  This is just a 'What if' moment."  I remembered having a conversation with Stotler about this a few years ago.
     "You are on a path," I started.  "This is a moment in time.  You don't know what the next moment will bring or if you'll even be around to see it.  I suggest you enjoy each moment like it was your last.  I talked to both of you.  You were almost dead inside and it seemed like you had nothing to give.
     "This is the most alive I've seen the two of you in the past five years.  We all end up where we are supposed to.  You just have to keep moving forward.  Don't let your self get stuck in the past.  You're doing ok.  Most importantly you have this beautiful black man to guide you through."
     "I know," she said laughing a genuine laugh for the first time.  "Every once in a while it's just good to hear a friendly voice.  You should get to work."
     My cat jumped on to her perch to watch the morning sun pour across the yard.
     "I will." I said finally putting my feet on the floor.  "If you need anything let me know."
     "Ok," she said with a heavy sigh.
     "Everything works out for the best."
     Before she hung up the phone Karen thanked me again for being a good friend.  I stretched a deep stretch and took a moment to watch the sun pour across the yard. 

     It's always nice when you can put your feet on the floor and know which room of the house you're in.

Day 91 - Return

Thank you for reading.  The Days will return late 2014 early 2015.

That Beautiful Black Man