s u m m e r
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Sue had lived above Friar's Cellar for as long as I could remember. From the first days in town I admired her pale white calves. I looked forward to the days she would sit on the roof directly above Tate, wearing beautiful patterned silk dresses, tapping one foot lightly on the tarred roof as she read.
We met quite by mistake. I was far too self-absorbed to say hello and she was far too nervous to meet anybody, she just didn't show it then and these days...well...these days we've both just about out grown anything we were then so that only the shreds remain. Fabric from a worn battle flag, valiantly carried over fields and through the skies.
But then, things were different.
Then the days were puffy around the edges, soft despite their harsh content, and a kid like me could dream of a dorm room he hadn't seen yet and a warm body rather than hissing radiators and a cold slate roof. Many nights I sat on that slate roof and thought just what I'd say if I ever got the chance. I'd watch my breath become a fast moving cloud and wish on all the stars 'cause I didn't believe it it anyway, but I did, ya' know?
Believe in it that is.
I used to think if I went to all the right places, all the places I liked then someone would be there, someone like me. And we'd laugh at how alike we were because we cherished the same spot and it was just coincidence that brought us together and soon a fast unbreakable friendship would follow.
Then there was Sue.
Nothing I thought on those cool nights mattered or even remotely turned out to hold the slightest bit of truth in time or even dream. The thoughts stayed on the slate, forever under the cool, cool stars.
In reality it was an apple core thrown from the roof of Friar's that brought us together and allowed us to skip right over the awkward moments of introduction and into the corner only the best of friends understand...apology.
I felt the core bounce off my shoulder and saw it roll around on the sidewalk before I looked up.
"I'm sorry," said the white calves, "I didn't look, and I really didn't think I threw it hard enough to..." (The apology trailed on, Sue was a talker once given a reason. I'd find that out in the months and years to follow.)
"It's okay, but if you've got one that's not all used up, you could toss it down. I wouldn't mind."
It was the first time I saw her smile. Ever think about that? The first time you ever see someone smile? Or do anything really. There few defining moments between human beings but two of the most important are first moments and last ones. The first time you see a smile or hear a voice, or a sigh, or feel the grip of fear around your wrist. The first time you smell vomit, or feel the weight of a woman's head on your chest. These are moments that can never fade and never be replaced. And I think Sue was the first girl who had ever taken the time to really smile at me in my whole life. An honest smile. It all goes back to the eyes. Always.
Apology. Invitation. Apple. Drink. Stories. Common ground. Friendship.
That's pretty much how it went. Neither of us wanted to waste it with sex, though we talked about the possibility. She didn't like my places and thought my ideas of meeting someone there were silly. But then again she hung out in the gallery up the street always looking at whatever was in the last room on the right.
She may have thought my idea of place was flawed, but at least I admitted what I was doing.
We began to find new places together and it's amazing how fast you can forget about old ones.
The rusty spinning wheels in the park that made me sick. The small rubber cube of space on top of the music building. The third stairwell of Aycock auditorium. One particular monolith in Green Hill, the one that would define all others later. The old Jarrell lecture hall.
We stole the world there.
Just inside the doors we stole the world. It was all laid out for us on an old oak library table. Sheets and sheets of it. Ancient world. World at war. World divided. Orange, purple, green, yellow world. Countries that meant very little then.
"Here, want half of Africa?" Rip.
We took the world back to her place and cut it up. We decided the continental drift theory wasn't all that bad if you had a good pair of scissors and some imagination. It didn't look so good once everything collided on the other side. We put Europe back the way we thought it should be. The only way we figured it would ever work was to put large bodies of water between every country. We made islands out of everything.
Figured that was the best way. Lots and lots of water.
She wanted back Japan and Australia. Offered a trade, but I smiled over the table and moved them next to Sweden and the rather small island of North Carolina.
No thanks.
goodnight 10.18.99