What He Did

Dear 13,

All I can think about you is stupid shit, because really isn't that what 7th grade was?

Dear 14,

Honestly, you had it pretty easy.

Dear 15,

She's going to break your heart and date a fatass.

Dear 16,

Enjoy driving and enjoy the friendships you have.  They won't last.

Dear 17,

You'll find it hard to believe, but you'll be glad you didn't do it.

Dear 18,

Make the most of the time you've got left.  Those days will save you.

Dear 19,

Get lost in the smoke.

With love for all of you,

The black Bic lighter was held securely between his hand and the steering wheel.  In his other hand he clenched his pipe, his thumb resting on the choke.  The swirls of red, yellow and green that gently collided with each other went unnoticed by him as he kept his eyes focused on the road.  As the highway straightened uphill he quickly and expertly removed his sole control from the vehicle long enough to move the lighter in his hand to a usable position, press the piece to his lips, suck in as he lit the edge of the bowl and release the choke.  The action took a matter of seconds and the hand with the lighter took control of the wheel back just as the car began to veer to the right.  The smoke went rushing down his throat to his lungs where he held it for several long seconds as he used his free hand, which held the pipe, to roll down his window.  He cocked his head to the left and exhaled with an added sign of relief.  The gush of smoke was carried away by the gnawing winter air.  The last of the wispy matter exited his body through his nose as if he were a dragon, snorting in the face of those against him.  As the familiar but always new sense of relief began to creep through his body, his straight face turned upward slightly into a stupid looking grin that hard as he tried could not be erased from his visage. 

He had reached the top of the hill and very quickly before the road curved left he repeated the process again, nearly coasting off the road before he managed to get control back and swerve back to where he needed to be.  He flicked his fingers across the nob that activated his left turn signal as he entered a turning lane.  The tink tinking that accompanied the flashing stop light green arrow on his dashboard annoyed him.  It reminded him that he was anxiously waiting to see that same shade of green on the stop light.  Instinctually he rolled the volume dial of his radio with his middle and index fingers letting the music overpower everything in the vehicle, including his thoughts.  He glanced out of the corner of his eyes to see if anyone in the cars around him paid him any attention.  With his concerns assuaged he leaned down and took another quick hit.  He coughed as the familiar taste of butane exploded in his mouth.  Fortunately, he had some Dr. Pepper in his cup holder to cleanse himself.

The light changed and his foot leapt onto the accelerator on its own accord.  The bass of the music gave him a beat to drive to.  He reached down to the chilled metallic surface of his iPod and started pushing the next button, giving each song about two to three seconds to convince him to play the whole thing.  His thumb started to grow tired of clicking when a familiar melody roared through the speakers.  When he looked next to him at the empty passenger seat he saw images of her sitting there dancing to that very song.  He took out his phone and brought up her name in his contacts.

It rang.  He turned the music up louder.  It rang, “Hello?”

“Hello?” he asked.

“Yeah?”

He held the phone out for a few moments before he brought it back to his ear.  He turned the music down, “Did you hear it, Court?”

“Yeah, I heard it.”

“Good.  I was just driving, ya know.  And this song came on and I remembered how much you used to love it and I thought to myself, “why not give my old friend Courtney a call?” ya know?”

She laughed quietly and he could see her smiling in the seat next to him, “Oh wow so I’m an “old friend” now?”

“My dear old friend who I’ve known for most of my life.  So what’s new?”

“Nothin’ much, just studyin’ for this final for this class I’m failing.  What are you up to?”

“Just drivin’.  Ya know?  Living the dream at home, just thought you might like to get a surprise phone call from me, your dear old friend.”

“Oh of course.”

He quickly tried to correct himself, “Not to say that getting a call from me is special . . .  ya know.  Getting surprises . . . getting surprise phone calls is nice. Not like just from me specifically, but just in general, I thought you might like it.  Everybody like’s getting calls from people they haven’t heard from in a while.”

“It’s very nice,” she paused, “It’s nice that it’s from you too.”

“Cool.”

“This surprise wouldn’t be necessary though if you woulda called me over break though.”

She was joking, he knew, but he groaned none the less, “Oh but isn’t getting a random surprise call much better?”

“It makes up for it a little bit.”

“I’ll make it up for you this time when you come home.”

“Good.  This was a nice little break from studyin’ though.”

“I’m glad . . . “

“But I really need to get back to this.”

“Oh, I understand,” he said, flustered, “I hope you do good on it.”

“Thanks.  I’ll see you over break.”

“Definitely.  Bye Court.”

“Bye . . .” she lingered for a moment though.  He drove through a light as it changed to yellow, “I’ll see ya later.”

“Kay.”

We are different people.  In th end that is the lesson of youth.  3 can't be 8 just as 13 can't be 19.  Youth is a transformation of the mind, hell maybe life is just one big transformation as we morph into different people as we experience the things that change us.  And those experiences have a purpose.  They move us on to the next stage of our lives.  Our past becomes memories of different individuals we once knew.  We once were.  There is no going back.  Those experiences will be different for others and hard as some will try nobody can be the judge of who had it more difficult, who has "the most knowledge of what life is" or has "seen some pretty tough shit".  

We don't know anything about why we are here, what our purpose to exist is.  And  sadly to exist is sometimes a struggle. But the experiences we meet and overcome make us unique.  And being unique, having a story to call your own, is really the only thing we have to live for.  What some people refuse to accept though, is that that is okay.  I don't believe we should need a purpose to live.  Living the human experience should be enough.  The human experience of being aware, being aware that you are alive in the present, being aware that you have a personal history that makes you an individual but also apart of a shared collective of human history, being aware that time passes and you are changing.  

You're different than you were five years ago.  You can only remember you as you were.  You don't get to be that person forever.  So live it and when the time comes, part ways and move forward.

The cigarette smoke swirled about at the roof of the car before he told them to crack the windows.  As the sound of rushing wind entered the vehicle the wisps of smoke started to dissipate out the small openings until the fog cleared.  The music and the bass were up full blast and the voices of his passengers tried unsuccessfully to overpower it. 

“We almost there?” a voice in the backseat asked.

He looked in his rearview mirror to look at Derek lying on the laps of Mitch, Ian and Sara.  Not enough room.  “About fifteen.”

Beside him, in the passenger seat, Mike cracked open one of the Natties they’d stolen from Ian’s brother.  “You can ride in the trunk on the way back.”  He suggested.

“Quit touching my boobs!” Sara squealed.  The five guys laughed as she pushed Derek away.

He made a sharp right turn and drove past the abandoned ice cream shop.  The statue of an ice cream cone with a smiling face waving at customers had been pushed over.  The building itself looked about ready to fall over too.  The road changed from pavement to dirt and stones about a mile in and soon a hollow engulfed them.  He drove slowly along the worn, beaten path but that didn’t stop all of them from bumping about.

It wasn’t long though before the shroud of the trees was lifted and they emerged before an expansive lake of murky water.  He drove right up onto the beach.  As soon as the car stopped the doors were thrown open.  Derek was tossed on the ground as Mitch and Ian shed their shirts and shoes and ran towards the shoreline.  Sara took off her shoes, lit another cigarette and sauntered behind the two boys.  As their feet entered the water, Mitch and Ian looked at each other, the frigidness of the water wasn’t lost on either and their stares challenged the other to advance more.

In the car, Mike finished off his beer, tossed it out the window and grabbed another one, “Want one?” he offered him.

“Nah, driving.” He replied.

“Pussy.”