Leafstorm
04-12-2008, 01:03 PM
Angela liked to chew Juicy Fruit gum. I could tell when she was near because the air became redolent with that singular sweet smell. The scent invokes her brown liquid eyes, gazing coyly at me through straight bangs of auburn hair. She is smiling, with her mouth closed and her lips pursed, modestly hiding her perfect teeth. But her eyes are slightly squinched at the corners, betraying innocent longing or shameless desire. And oh how I crave her, crave the smell of her breath as she whispers in my ear, the sweet taste of her kisses. My Angie, so beautiful, with a little sadness in her eyes, and I love her artlessly with every sense, every heart beat, and every fiber of my soul. <?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /><o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
One evening in autumn I told my parents I was going to a school dance, but went instead to Angie’s house – to her bedroom. She put “Goats Head Soup” on the record player and kept lifting the needle and moving it back to “Angie”. Eventually she got distracted and only the hiss-click of a needle on the edge of a world accompanied our love-making. I converted then and there to the religion of Angieism. Dominus meus, deus meus. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
Sometime later I went to the grocery store and got annoyed when I had to pay 19¢ for a Hostess Fruit Pie, when I’d always paid 15¢. Despite my annoyance I decided to buy two and give one to Angie, thinking that since she liked Juicy Fruit gum she’d like a fruit pie as well. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
After Mr. Granger’s World History class, she came to my locker and I presented my gift. Her younger sister Kathy was with her, watching and learning, I suppose. Angie laughed and wrinkled her nose. “Yuck!” she said about my offering. She and her sister giggled and walked away. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
Later that day Kathy delivered the folded up note. Angie wanted to break up with me. “Not because of the pie,” she made sure to mention. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
I stood for a long time staring into my locker, and I nearly missed the bus. I realized as the bus rolled out into the farmlands where we all lived, separated by fields and woods, that I’d forgotten to bring home my World History book, and that I couldn’t remember the assignment for the next day.<o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
My friend Marty called me a grumpy asshole for not wanting to play euchre on the bus ride home. I told him to go to hell. I asked him, if he had no choice, if it were a matter of life and death, would he have open heart surgery without anesthesia? He told me I was fucking crazy. I threw a fruit pie out the window and hit a mailbox. Because I was. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
A month later, while Angie and I were “still friends”, she confided to me that she was pregnant. I was shocked, but not the worried kind of shocked, because on the night of the dance we’d only gone so far, but not far enough – for her and for me. Some fear of mine, perhaps, or some wisdom of hers. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
Math was not my best subject but I could add two and two. She’d gotten pregnant while we were together. She ended up quitting school, having her baby, and marrying the guy – a basketball player from a rival school. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
Then things became fuzzy. I remember a very long bus ride. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
When I got off the bus I was in the city and it was overcast and cold. I looked down an alley, or maybe it was a creek bed, because it was muddy. I heard voices so I walked toward them. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
The muddy alley intersected with another just like it. Some men were sitting around a fire, drinking coffee and playing cards. I gazed down the intersecting alley and I got the idea that it would take me back to my school. I started out, determined to retrieve my history book, and to talk to Angie, and to apologize to Marty, and to fix something broken or find something lost.<o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” said one of the men, who appeared to be a little older than the others. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“Why not?” I asked. “Won’t this take me to <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" /><st1:place><st1:PlaceName>Fairview</st1:PlaceName> <st1:PlaceType>High School</st1:PlaceType></st1:place>?”<o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
The other men laughed. The old man didn’t, but just shook his head and watched me. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
I’d gone only a short ways when I noticed that the muddy surface I was walking on was getting wetter. Damp spots were now large puddles. As I pressed on I encountered an actual flow of water – little rivulets in several places. I kept moving. I peered into the distance and thought I could make out the shape of the school, but it was hard to tell. Things were fuzzy. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
The rivulets combined and the entire street became a shallow stream, with swiftly flowing, ankle deep water. I made my way slowly upstream, and after only ten more paces the water was pushing against my shins. A little further and it was above my knees. The water against my legs stung right through my jeans, as if infused with shards of shattered time. I almost lost my balance. I took one more step forward and was in water up to my waist. I turned around and headed back.
There was a little chuckling when I walked up to the fire. The older guy regarded me silently. Finally he gestured to me to have a seat on the crate beside him. He said his name was Vic. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“Who’s the President?” he asked after he’d handed me a cup of coffee. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“Ford,” I replied. The other men laughed. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“It’s George Bush,” said Vic. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“Never heard of him.”<o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“Well, let me tell you, half the world wishes they could say that,” he said.
“Cigarette?” I shook my head. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“Gum?” I looked down and saw that he was offering me a stick of Juicy Fruit. I recoiled and he put it away. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“How about a fruit pie?” He offered me one – apple – and I noticed it was priced at $2.49. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“What year is this?” I asked him. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“2008,” he replied. He moved quickly to catch me, I guess because it looked like I was going to faint. But I didn’t faint, I just vomited a little. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“Long bus ride?” <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
I nodded. “Thirty five years, apparently.” <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
We sat in silence. I thought about Steve McQueen, who as Jake Holman says in the last scene of “The Sand Pebbles”, after he’s been shot: “I was home. What happened?” Jake stares into space, trying to make sense of it, then he starts to rise and he shouts “What the hell happened?” A shot rings out and he’s dead. He loved <st1:PersonName>Shirley</st1:PersonName> so much. I loved Angie so much. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
A few notes of a vaguely familiar song sounded, then repeated, and when it repeated a third time Vic spoke into a small, dark, rectangular object. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“It’s for you,” he said, handing me the object. He noticed my look of confusion. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“It’s a phone. Hold it up to your ear, listen and talk.”<o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“Listen and talk,” I repeated. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“Lemal!” said a voice through the static. “How the hell are you?” <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“Marty? Where are you?” <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“Uh, west. I moved west. Up for a game of euchre?” <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“Where west?” I asked. “I can’t hear you very well. <st1:State><st1:place>California</st1:place></st1:State>?”<o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“No,” he said, “North.”<o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“What?”<o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“Northwest. So can you come over? Bring some money and we’ll play poker.”<o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“No!” I said with a laugh, “You always win and take all my money. Where – Marty? Are you there? I can’t– Marty?” <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
By the time I’d handed the phone back to Vic I’d remembered three things: the name of the ballad he used for his ring tone, that cell phones had been around for years, and that Marty had been gone for years. I started to cry. I doubled over, feeling like a forgotten scar had split open. I think the men sitting around the fire got a little nervous – maybe thinking I was going to flood the alley with my tears. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“Dominus meus, deus meus,” said Vic. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“Huh?” I asked, barely able to see through the tears that made everything fuzzy. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“Time.” <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
He let me take mine. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“Shall we, gentlemen?” he eventually asked. The others nodded, rose, and gathered up their scant belongings. Vic put out the fire with the last of the coffee. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
He told me to grab the crate I was sitting on. We started walking in the opposite direction that I had attempted. I followed them, but stopped and glanced back. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“The school’s not there, Lemal,” said Vic. “Mr. Granger’s gone, too. Listen to me. Are you listening?” <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
I turned and looked at him. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“You don’t need to turn in that history assignment. Understand?”<o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
I stared at him, trying to hold back more tears. I got a better grip on the crate and joined the group. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“Where are we going?” I asked Vic. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“Forward.” <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“If you don’t mind,” I said, “I think I’ll have a stick of that gum now.” <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
He produced the pack and slid a stick out with his thumb. I popped it into my mouth and was surprised to find that the sweet taste didn’t make me sick or weepy. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“Angie!” Vic started singing. “Oh, An-gie!” <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
I joined him. “When will those dark clouds disappear?<o:p></o:p>
Angie, Angie, where will it lead us from here?”<o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
The other men started singing too. We sang loudly as we walked along. I noticed that the alley was becoming drier, the sky less gray, and the air a little warmer. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“With no loving in our souls and no money in our coats <o:p></o:p>
You can't say we're satisfied <o:p></o:p>
But Angie, Angie, you can't say we never tried.”<o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
We finished the song and walked along in silence. Vic looked up at the mostly sunny sky. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“They’ll return, you know,” he said, looking at me. “The dark clouds.”<o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
I nodded. I chewed my gum in silence, savoring the sweet mysterious flavor.
<o:p></o:p>
One evening in autumn I told my parents I was going to a school dance, but went instead to Angie’s house – to her bedroom. She put “Goats Head Soup” on the record player and kept lifting the needle and moving it back to “Angie”. Eventually she got distracted and only the hiss-click of a needle on the edge of a world accompanied our love-making. I converted then and there to the religion of Angieism. Dominus meus, deus meus. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
Sometime later I went to the grocery store and got annoyed when I had to pay 19¢ for a Hostess Fruit Pie, when I’d always paid 15¢. Despite my annoyance I decided to buy two and give one to Angie, thinking that since she liked Juicy Fruit gum she’d like a fruit pie as well. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
After Mr. Granger’s World History class, she came to my locker and I presented my gift. Her younger sister Kathy was with her, watching and learning, I suppose. Angie laughed and wrinkled her nose. “Yuck!” she said about my offering. She and her sister giggled and walked away. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
Later that day Kathy delivered the folded up note. Angie wanted to break up with me. “Not because of the pie,” she made sure to mention. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
I stood for a long time staring into my locker, and I nearly missed the bus. I realized as the bus rolled out into the farmlands where we all lived, separated by fields and woods, that I’d forgotten to bring home my World History book, and that I couldn’t remember the assignment for the next day.<o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
My friend Marty called me a grumpy asshole for not wanting to play euchre on the bus ride home. I told him to go to hell. I asked him, if he had no choice, if it were a matter of life and death, would he have open heart surgery without anesthesia? He told me I was fucking crazy. I threw a fruit pie out the window and hit a mailbox. Because I was. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
A month later, while Angie and I were “still friends”, she confided to me that she was pregnant. I was shocked, but not the worried kind of shocked, because on the night of the dance we’d only gone so far, but not far enough – for her and for me. Some fear of mine, perhaps, or some wisdom of hers. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
Math was not my best subject but I could add two and two. She’d gotten pregnant while we were together. She ended up quitting school, having her baby, and marrying the guy – a basketball player from a rival school. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
Then things became fuzzy. I remember a very long bus ride. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
When I got off the bus I was in the city and it was overcast and cold. I looked down an alley, or maybe it was a creek bed, because it was muddy. I heard voices so I walked toward them. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
The muddy alley intersected with another just like it. Some men were sitting around a fire, drinking coffee and playing cards. I gazed down the intersecting alley and I got the idea that it would take me back to my school. I started out, determined to retrieve my history book, and to talk to Angie, and to apologize to Marty, and to fix something broken or find something lost.<o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” said one of the men, who appeared to be a little older than the others. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“Why not?” I asked. “Won’t this take me to <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" /><st1:place><st1:PlaceName>Fairview</st1:PlaceName> <st1:PlaceType>High School</st1:PlaceType></st1:place>?”<o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
The other men laughed. The old man didn’t, but just shook his head and watched me. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
I’d gone only a short ways when I noticed that the muddy surface I was walking on was getting wetter. Damp spots were now large puddles. As I pressed on I encountered an actual flow of water – little rivulets in several places. I kept moving. I peered into the distance and thought I could make out the shape of the school, but it was hard to tell. Things were fuzzy. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
The rivulets combined and the entire street became a shallow stream, with swiftly flowing, ankle deep water. I made my way slowly upstream, and after only ten more paces the water was pushing against my shins. A little further and it was above my knees. The water against my legs stung right through my jeans, as if infused with shards of shattered time. I almost lost my balance. I took one more step forward and was in water up to my waist. I turned around and headed back.
There was a little chuckling when I walked up to the fire. The older guy regarded me silently. Finally he gestured to me to have a seat on the crate beside him. He said his name was Vic. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“Who’s the President?” he asked after he’d handed me a cup of coffee. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“Ford,” I replied. The other men laughed. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“It’s George Bush,” said Vic. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“Never heard of him.”<o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“Well, let me tell you, half the world wishes they could say that,” he said.
“Cigarette?” I shook my head. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“Gum?” I looked down and saw that he was offering me a stick of Juicy Fruit. I recoiled and he put it away. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“How about a fruit pie?” He offered me one – apple – and I noticed it was priced at $2.49. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“What year is this?” I asked him. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“2008,” he replied. He moved quickly to catch me, I guess because it looked like I was going to faint. But I didn’t faint, I just vomited a little. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“Long bus ride?” <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
I nodded. “Thirty five years, apparently.” <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
We sat in silence. I thought about Steve McQueen, who as Jake Holman says in the last scene of “The Sand Pebbles”, after he’s been shot: “I was home. What happened?” Jake stares into space, trying to make sense of it, then he starts to rise and he shouts “What the hell happened?” A shot rings out and he’s dead. He loved <st1:PersonName>Shirley</st1:PersonName> so much. I loved Angie so much. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
A few notes of a vaguely familiar song sounded, then repeated, and when it repeated a third time Vic spoke into a small, dark, rectangular object. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“It’s for you,” he said, handing me the object. He noticed my look of confusion. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“It’s a phone. Hold it up to your ear, listen and talk.”<o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“Listen and talk,” I repeated. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“Lemal!” said a voice through the static. “How the hell are you?” <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“Marty? Where are you?” <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“Uh, west. I moved west. Up for a game of euchre?” <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“Where west?” I asked. “I can’t hear you very well. <st1:State><st1:place>California</st1:place></st1:State>?”<o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“No,” he said, “North.”<o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“What?”<o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“Northwest. So can you come over? Bring some money and we’ll play poker.”<o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“No!” I said with a laugh, “You always win and take all my money. Where – Marty? Are you there? I can’t– Marty?” <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
By the time I’d handed the phone back to Vic I’d remembered three things: the name of the ballad he used for his ring tone, that cell phones had been around for years, and that Marty had been gone for years. I started to cry. I doubled over, feeling like a forgotten scar had split open. I think the men sitting around the fire got a little nervous – maybe thinking I was going to flood the alley with my tears. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“Dominus meus, deus meus,” said Vic. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“Huh?” I asked, barely able to see through the tears that made everything fuzzy. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“Time.” <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
He let me take mine. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“Shall we, gentlemen?” he eventually asked. The others nodded, rose, and gathered up their scant belongings. Vic put out the fire with the last of the coffee. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
He told me to grab the crate I was sitting on. We started walking in the opposite direction that I had attempted. I followed them, but stopped and glanced back. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“The school’s not there, Lemal,” said Vic. “Mr. Granger’s gone, too. Listen to me. Are you listening?” <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
I turned and looked at him. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“You don’t need to turn in that history assignment. Understand?”<o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
I stared at him, trying to hold back more tears. I got a better grip on the crate and joined the group. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“Where are we going?” I asked Vic. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“Forward.” <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“If you don’t mind,” I said, “I think I’ll have a stick of that gum now.” <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
He produced the pack and slid a stick out with his thumb. I popped it into my mouth and was surprised to find that the sweet taste didn’t make me sick or weepy. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“Angie!” Vic started singing. “Oh, An-gie!” <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
I joined him. “When will those dark clouds disappear?<o:p></o:p>
Angie, Angie, where will it lead us from here?”<o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
The other men started singing too. We sang loudly as we walked along. I noticed that the alley was becoming drier, the sky less gray, and the air a little warmer. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“With no loving in our souls and no money in our coats <o:p></o:p>
You can't say we're satisfied <o:p></o:p>
But Angie, Angie, you can't say we never tried.”<o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
We finished the song and walked along in silence. Vic looked up at the mostly sunny sky. <o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
“They’ll return, you know,” he said, looking at me. “The dark clouds.”<o:p></o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
I nodded. I chewed my gum in silence, savoring the sweet mysterious flavor.