A dream - tornado

Matt, Chey, mom and I were in a van driving in East Texas. On the horizon, thunderheads were building and lightening was flashing. The lightening storm became more pronounced and the the clouds began to glow an angry red, deep inside where the lightening was being formed. I watched as an extremely bright, glowing blue bolt struck a power plant, and I exclaimed aloud in shock and amazement.

Thick sheets of rain were starting to cascade down from the distant clouds, and as I watched, the sheets began to narrow and form long, slender tornadoes. I counted four of them... three were angled slightly as they trailed down from the clouds, and one stretched across what seemed to be miles almost horizontally until it finally touched the ground. I began to grow alarmed.

We finally arrived home, which was a flimsy trailer. I knew this wouldn't do, and that we would have to find more substantial shelter soon. Mom and Chey went into the house and I stayed on the front steps, calling to Matt to come inside through the howling wind. He had the hatchback of the van open and was digging around for something. The trees were whipping violently and the clouds were roiling all around. I couldn't get Matt to come inside, so I went in, intent on turning on the TV or a radio and finding out exactly where the tornado was, because it seemed very close.

Mom and Chey had the TV on, and there was a newscaster standing under some trees, talking loudly above the noise of the storm into his microphone, trying to ascertain the location of the tornado from his weather man back at the studio. I watched for a while, but when no details were forthcoming, I went into my room to pack some things. When I entered my room, Mandy, the girl from Alaska who I used to say 'hi' to every now and then, was in there. She smiled at me, turned around, and asked me to help her undo her bra. I felt for the clasp through her shirt and found it, and unhooked it, and her bra fell to the floor. She turned around and smiled and said, "No peeking. Now that we're together, no peeking!" I said, "We have to get out of this trailer! The tornado will tear it to pieces!" And with a mischievous smile, she turned and ran from the room.

I stood there kind of stunned for a second, and then I began picking up some clothes and started folding them. I heard mom and Chey yelling for me to come into the kitchen, so I ran in there and saw them watching the TV. The newscaster was still trying to find out where the tornado was, and then the power went out. I panicked for a second and almost bolted, and then the power came back on again just in time to show the tornado hit right where the newscaster was. The trees behind him literally exploded, and bits of detritus flew through the air at deadly speeds. I watched as several of his crew were impaled with sharp pieces of wood, and the screen turned to static.

I ran outside and the tornado was upon us. I knew there was nowhere to run, so I just stood there. It passed very close to us, but didn't make a direct hit. In a few seconds, it was over, and when the dust settled, there were injured people all around me. One of the news crew was standing with his mouth wide open, a long shard of glass stuck in his throat and protruding obscenely. Tears ran down his face as he struggled with it, trying to pull it out. Another man was impaled through the torso by a long branch which protruded from the ground. Other people were standing around and crying.

Sci-fi care package

Several months ago while I was in Alaska, before I discovered the library, I made a public plea on facebook for somebody to send me a book! I was just kidding, but then Rae, an old friend from Jr. High, took it seriously and sent me a sci fi package while I was in Alaska. She's a librarian and had some spare books lying around.

One of them was called 'The Fey - The Sacrifice', the first book in a 5 part series. I was wary about starting it, but I had read every other book she sent and this was the only one left, so I read it, knowing that I didn't have the other 4 books.

It turns out that it is one of the best books I've ever read, and I have the other four ordered through Amazon. The second one got here the other day and I'm halfway through it. I can't wait to read all of them.

Thanks Rae, for sending me some spare books. I never would have known this particular enjoyment if it weren't for your consideration. Thanks for being nice. :)

Lookie cookie

Last night I was at the 7-Eleven on University and Malone. I go in there a lot when I'm taking my night walks, and there's a usually a girl working there who I chat with for a few minutes. We were talking about something ignorant that cracked me up. Anyway, as I was leaving, she said "There goes my favorite customer!"

So I was digging through my bag to get my Pepsid AC and lookie what I found! Four M&M cookies had stowed away in there!

:)

Another late night walk, and a kitty.

Last night I took another late night walk with my book and flashlight. I walked for about two hours, pretty much all over Denton - my path made kind of a big triangle with the Kroger parking lot, the UNT campus, and the downtown square forming the vertices, and I was coming home from the general direction of Kroger. When I go that route, I usually take a shortcut through the parking lot of the Baptist church on Malone, just south of University. So, as I was walking through the well lit parking lot, I spotted a black and white kitty prowling around the edge of the sidewalk near the bushes. When it saw me, it froze and made as if to kick it into high gear. I approached warily and crouched, held out my hand, and said "Here ki ki meow!"

Well, that cat did kick it into high gear, right towards my outstretched hand. It immediately began meowing loudly as it rubbed its head into my open palm. As I stroked it and scratched it's neck and head, it purred loudly, all the while augmenting the petting process by rubbing its head forcibly against my hand and arm and leg; whatever part of me that was the closest to it. After a minute or two of this, I stood up and the kitty started doing figure 8's around and between my ankles, just rubbing and meowing like there was no tomorrow.

And then the kitty did something I've never seen a kitty do before... a dog, yes. But a kitty...? I stopped petting and scratching the kitty and I stood up. The kitty also stood up, latched onto my thigh with its front claws, and began rubbing its head against my knee! As if to say, "Hey, up there! Yeah, you! Down here! Why did you stop? Pet me! Scratch me!" I had to laugh out loud at the overt friendliness of this kitty.

So, I crouched down and pet the kitty some more, and took some pictures. It wouldn't hold still for very long, so I managed to get four decent ones out of about 20 attempts. After about 10 minutes of this I finally decided that I should probably get home, as it was getting late. However, when I started walking the kitty followed me. As it followed, it would lag behind a little, then take a running leap and latch onto my leg again, actually holding on for a couple of strides! It kept this up for about 50 yards, until we reached the point where the parking lot illumination began to fall off. I kept walking for a bit and then turned around to see what the cat was doing. It was just sitting there on the edge of the light, meowing its little kitty head off. I felt sorry for it, so I approached it again and pet it some more, then I started walking again. It followed me a little way out of the light, then sat on its haunches and started crying again.

I tried to get it to follow me home, but it was afraid to leave the light. I contemplated picking it up and carrying it home, but I thought that might frighten it too, so I left the poor kitty there. I might go back tonight and see if it's still there. If it is, I'll try to carry it home. That kitty is just too friendly not to have around the house.

Another late night walk

Last night when I got off work I grabbed my book and flashlight and started walking. My first destination was the square. When I got to the courthouse, there was a group of about 15 kids, probably high school age, standing on the grass between the sidewalk and the courthouse. One had a guitar and was singing "I Dare You To Move" by Switchfoot, and the others were singing along. I remember kind of liking this band, especially that song "Meant To Live".

We were meant to live for so much more
Have we lost ourselves
Somewhere we live inside
Somewhere we live inside

I like that song.

Britney had mentioned something about a friend of hers from her church inviting her downtown to the square to sing after work. Since Switchfoot is a Christian rock band, I thought that maybe this group of people was what her friend was talking about. Anyway, I stood around and watched them for a while, then did a couple more circuits of the courthouse, and left.

Next I found myself walking down Hickory. Now, at night when I'm reading by flashlight, my eyes get adjusted to the bright page and my peripheral vision becomes useless, unless there are streetlights. Walking on the sidewalk is kind of a challenge, because I can't see exactly where I'm going, and I tend to stumble off of the curb quite a bit. So, when it's late and there's no traffic, I usually walk down the middle of the road if I'm in a residential area. I usually don't walk in the middle of the major city streets, but since Hickory is one way, I didn't have to worry about people driving up behind me, so I just walked down the middle of Hickory towards Fry Street and kept an eye out for approaching headlights.

About halfway to Fry Street, I heard somebody yell, "Hey, what are you reading?"

I stopped and saw a couple of guys standing in their front yard. I called to them, "I'm reading a fantasy novel called 'The Fey - The Changeling'. It's the second book in a five part series, and it's really good." I walked over to them and explained the book to them.

"So, do you read a lot?"

"Yeah, all the time. This is kind of a hobby of mine, walking late at night and reading by flashlight."

"Wow, that's a cool hobby. Kind of dangerous though, walking in the middle of the road like that."

"Well, Hickory is one way, so I don't have to worry about anyone coming up behind me, and when I see headlights, I just get out of the road."

"True... why the middle of the road though?"

"Because the sidewalk is too narrow, and I can't see it while I'm reading, and I tend to stumble. Sometimes I don't see a curb coming and I'll fall ass over teakettle."

They laughed. "Hey, what's your name man?"

"Elias."

They introduced themselves... and well, shoot, I already forgot their names. Anyway, I told them that I work at 7-Eleven. They said they'd come by and say 'hey'. They seemed pretty cool; one had dreads and the other was just an average looking college kid. Maybe I'll make new friends.

After that, I headed towards Fry Street. As I was passing Riprocks, I heard, "Hey Ash!" I turned and looked, and there was David! I stopped and we talked for about ten minutes about the old days at 7-Eleven. David had a friend with him, and he said that they were out hitting the bars. He asked me if I wanted to drink with them, but I declined because I really wasn't feeling that good... I've been sick for the past week. I just wanted to continue my walk and read. So, we parted ways with the promise that we'd get together soon and hit the bars.

When I got to Fry Street, I took a left on Fry and headed towards the campus and heard "Hey man, so you're off work now?" What? Everybody is talking to me tonight... I turned, and there was a guy I recognize as a customer from 7-Eleven. He had his van set up on the curb with the side door open, and was selling herbs and pipes and stuff. I approached him and explained again about my late night reading walks. He said, "Do you have a cold man?" My voice is pretty messed up right now, so I guess it's obvious. I told him that I had some kind of bug, and he loaded a pipe up with some kind of herb and said that it was good for opening up the sinus passages and loosening the phlegm. I took the pipe and hit it a couple of times. We stood there and talked while I hit the pipe for a while. It smelled and tasted nice, but I don't know if it actually helped my sinuses.

I gave him a three dollar tip and told him that I'd buy a couple of ounces of it from him the next time I saw him, when I had cash. He said it was $15.00. That sounds like a good deal, and even if it doesn't help with my cold, it's pleasant to smoke, and it actually really relaxed me and made me feel calm and peaceful.

After that I walked around the campus for a while and read some more until I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore, then I walked home and hit the sack.

Loud, unwanted sounds

Have you ever noticed how when you sit down on the commode your farts are magnified a hundred fold? This is a dilemma for me. Usually, when I sit down to pee, it's because I don't want to make any kind of sound while doing it. This goes back to my childhood, when I was afraid to make any kind of sound while using the bathroom, out of fear of waking up my dad.

Now I'm a man, and any man worth his salt will never admit that he EVER sits down to pee. But there are instances when this must occur... sometimes you're too drunk to stand up to pee, other times your back hurts because of a kidney infection, and other times you're just too damn lazy to stand up whilst doing it.

So anyway, back to the topic, about how toilets magnify sounds. So, the main reason why I sit down to pee is so that nobody will hear the 'TINKLE TINKLE SPRINKLE SPLINKLE' of the peeing process (this is possible by practicing blind aiming at the inside of the bowl above the water line). But at the same time, when I sit down, my body construes this as... "Ok, time to get rid of some toxic waste, the solid kind! Avast ye mates, man the helm and get ready!"

NO! Says I, to this. And although I am quite successful at consciously regulating bodily functions when the need isn't imminent, my subconscious almost always succeeds in sending a few gas bubbles down the tail pipe. Thus, when I sit down to pee, I almost always find myself battling between the urge to fart and the urge to pee. My subconscious betrays me almost every time. I think my subconscious has a sense of humor. It likes to play practical jokes on me, especially when it knows that the jokes will be LOUD and OBNOXIOUS.

Hey, the joke is on you, subconscious! You are me, and when you make me fart in the commode at 200 decibels, you are playing a joke on YOU TOO!

Take that, me.

Sleep

I have a theory on sleep, which has most likely been thought of before, like everything else that has already been thought of that doesn't have anything to do with the 12th dimension.  Anyway, the primary reason why we sleep isn't because we need REM, or dreams, or to recharge the brain, or to organize memories, or to clean out the subconscious, or any of that other crap that people are saying.

The reason why we need sleep is so that we can divide our lives into days.  Imagine one continuous, conscious life, without any concept of tomorrow.  Life would become unendurable if there wasn't a tomorrow to look forward to.  Everything can change tomorrow, right?  Because it is another day, another chance to get it right.  Now, if there were no such thing as sleep, every problem we have would just continue to build up and up and UP and UP AND UP AND UP!!!  Until we 'splode.

So, in order to prevent the 'sploding from happening, we need to experience oblivion now and again, to get a fresh start and a second chance on things... to have a feeling that we are 'starting anew'.  Tomorrow is always a second chance, no matter that most people have thousands of tomorrows to look forward to.  It's only the 2nd tomorrow that matters, which is every tomorrow.  All of the other things, like dreaming and recharging and all of that hogwash, are just secondary factors to the primary need not to 'splode.

Not to say that 'all of that hogwash' isn't necessary.  It's just a side effect of the main purpose of sleep... to give us another chance.  We all need another chance, right?

Happy Tree Friends!

These always cheer me up! :)

Ugh

Yesterday at work, Ryan and I spent about an hour in the cooler. I was constantly having to go grab a napkin to blow my nose. I figured it was just because it was cold in there, but by the time I got home, every time I swallowed my throat hurt.

I didn't actually fall asleep until about 6:00 am because every time I'd shift positions, the greeblies in my sinuses would drain to the other side and my ears would pop.

So I woke up at 10:00 this morning with a head that's completely stuffed up, ears that go from deaf to pain, and the only thing that doesn't hurt when I swallow it is ice cream (thanks Matt, I ate most of your Chocolate Fudge Chunk).

Chilly

Tonight is kind of chilly. The first chilly night I've experienced since I've been back in Denton. At first I thought it was chilly for September, but then I realized it is October. Remembering that it is October reminded me of two years ago, when I first met Leah. We first started trading MySpace messages in October of '08. That line of thought made me think of how cold it got later that year. I remember one night when Leah was working second shift at 7-Eleven and it was sleeting. I was hanging out with her there, and when she got off work and we tried to get into my car to leave, my car doors had frozen shut. I don't remember why my keys wouldn't work, but Leah and I had to walk halfway to my house with an umbrella protecting us from the sleet to get the spare keys from Matt. That is a memory I will always cherish, us walking together in the cold, sleet falling all around us, huddled up together under that umbrella.

7-Eleven

Well, I survived my first day at work at 7-Eleven, again. Chiy is pretty nice, and an alright dude as far as I'm concerned. However, he is one cheap sonofabitch. He wants us to re-use the little plastic gloves for handling hot dogs and taquitos. As in, use one pair all day. And when the hot dogs turn to beef jerky on the roller grill? Why, there's nothing wrong with them. Sell them fuckers! It's an added bonus... beef jerky flavored hot dogs! And the paper towels. We aren't allowed to use paper towels, period. I don't really get that part, but that's basically the case. Third shift are the only ones who are allowed to use paper towels, because they have to clean the 'vision', as Chiy calls the windows. There's a special place where they keep the paper towels, in the back room above the place where wine is stored. Don't touch those towels! They're for third shift!

Oh. And it's perfectly ok to let a pot of coffee sit for hours and hours and hours. I'm guessing the reason for this is so that the decaf will transform into dark mountain with extra caffeine. After all, why throw out perfectly good coffee that improves with age? Chiy saw me dumping a pot that was 3/4 empty and had to pull me aside and give me the 'waste not, want not' talk.

And about the garbage. Chiy saw me emptying the garbage behind the counter near the sink, which was only 3/4 full. He commended me on my initiative, but made it clear that the garbage should only be emptied when it's about to overflow. Saves money on trash bags, you see. Oh, and blue paper towels are to be used ONLY as refills for the paper towel dispensers at the gas tanks, and for no other reason under any circumstance.

Now, about the hot food. As much as I hate to, I have to ask each and every customer, up until 7:00, if they would like two slices of pizza for $2.00. I forgot to do this a couple of times, and Chiy noticed. He walked up to me with a big smile, patted me on the back, and said, "I'll give you a couple of weeks to get the hang of it." The smile did not reach his eyes. I took this to mean, "I'm paying you the big bucks so you will increase my profits, so you better not fuck up! You have two weeks to get your shit together!"

I worked with Brittney today. I remembered everything pretty well, but I still had to ask her to help me every once in a while. It was weird... when I worked at 7-Eleven before, I was the one training her and answering her questions. It was weird having to ask her how to ring up a money order, and where the banana key was, and how to scan a lottery ticket. Still, she was a point of familiarity for me in this imminently familiar yet strangely unknown environment.

For example... I have a new code now, but I kept punching in my old 4 digit code into the register to log on. I did that several times out of sheer habit. I remember when Ryan and I used to race to see who could log in the fastest. I was pretty damn fast back then... it will take me a while to get that fast again with the new code. Also, there used to be a trash can right next to the sink. It's moved a little to the left now, and I found myself trying to throw stuff where the trash can used to be, again, out of sheer habit. The coffee trough was exactly the same though... I made coffee like a pro and didn't flood the coffee trough once. I saw a lot of old familiar customers who were surprised to see me and welcomed me back like we were old friends. The mailman was the most vocal and enthusiastic about my presence there. Made me feel kind of good that a lot of the old regulars recognized me.

So, my responsibilities as the Ass. Manager of 2nd shift are to keep the cooler stocked, mop the floor every two hours or so, keep the coffee trough wiped down, plus-sell pizza to every single customer, and make Chiy lots and lots and lots and lots of money. In a couple of weeks, if I pass the initial muster, Chiy will let me start ordering stuff again. Joy.

So here I am again at Shmevin Eleven. It's actually a little sad being there now, what with all of the good old memories from before... hot dog bun fights, AHHHHHH Terry, payrolling cigarettes for Flower Lady, working with Leah... but life goes on and I'll probably make new memories over the next year or so that I'll be nostalgic about all over again.

The radio

Ugh... hell, I'm awake now, so I might as well write about this.

It's 12:21. About 30 minutes ago, I woke up to an echoing announcers voice coming in from outside. It sounded like some kind of emergency. I couldn't make out what was being said, but it was definitely coming from outside, and echoing off of the hills. Puzzled, I started to become more alert... what the hell is it saying?

Still a little sleep addled, I heard the words 'ground zero'. I sat up and became more awake... what did I just hear? Why is somebody outside announcing... ground zero, over a speaker or something? Is this some kind of public announcement? The voice went on in, what seemed to me, to be frantic tones. A jumped off of the couch and ran to the window. I leaned my head out...

...and it was coming from about two floors up, to the right. Just a radio. Somebody had talk radio on, blaring out the window, echoing off of the mountains, for all of Ketchikan to enjoy. I digested this information for about 5 minutes, and started to get just a TEENY bit peeved, so I leaned out of my own window and yelled, at the top of my voice, when the radio paused, "CAN YOU PLEASE TURN THAT DOWN?"

After about 15 seconds, no change. I tried again. "HEY, YOU WITH THE WINDOW OPEN AND THE RADIO ON, COULD YOU PLEASE TURN THAT DOWN?" Again, no reply. I looked around for something to throw up there, to get their attention. I found a couple of pennies and threw them, but didn't even get close.

YEESH. This called for action, I guess, so I threw on my pants and went on up to the 10th floor. It was either the 10th floor window or the 11th, so I'd try the 10th first. Makes sense, no? So, I listen to the next two doors down from mine, that is... in a relative manner, judging from my floor up to theirs, and heard nothing. I went on up to the 11th floor and did the same. From the first door, I heard music. I was just about to knock, but it wasn't music I'd been hearing, it had been talk. I went to the other door and listened... THERE IT WAS. TALK. Loud talk coming through that door. I knocked. And knocked. And knocked. And knocked.

I was just about to give up and leave, when I suddenly just got furious. Are they ignoring me, or just asleep? Do I have to listen to this all night? I'd already tried shutting my own window; it didn't work. So, I KNOCKED!!!

I heard a stumbling around inside! I stood there, careful to look up at the peep hole so they'd see me. A long time went by, so I thought I'd try actually talking.

"Hello in there!" and I waited for about 15 seconds. I heard somebody mess with the doorknob, and thought it was about to open, but it didn't. So, I said it again:

"Hello in there! Could you please turn your radio down? Either that, or shut your window? It's blaring out over the countryside like a megaphone, and we can hear it two floors down!"

I waited for a while and got no response. Then the radio turned down... and then it went back up, even louder! ARRRRGHH...

"Will you please open the door so I can talk to you?"

I waited some more, about another 30 seconds, with no change in the radio and nobody opening the door. I was at the point of just... disbelief now, or denial or something.

"You aren't even going to open the door so you can hear me? Just turn your radio down, please?"

Then I hear the radio go down abruptly, and a voice from within... "Saheee." I assume this means "Sorry." I at first thought that maybe this lack of communication was due to a language barrier, but the radio had been blaring in the Queens English. I think it was more due to a lack of wanting to open the door, probably because of some long haired freaky looking mustachioed man standing outside at midnight and banging on it like a lunatic.

Anyway, the radio is down now. Hopefully it will stay that way... but I'm up... :p 

Oh boy.

Maria says she's in love with me. She's only 19, she's a kid... she's horribly depressed. I talked to her last night on the phone for about two hours, trying to figure out a way to cheer her up. A preview of my future counseling sessions, I think. I don't want this poor depressed kid to be in love with me or be heartbroken when I leave. She doesn't even know me, but she's asking me if she can come home with me!

Lord, what do I do about this situation?

Maria, again.

I was across the street just a little while ago, across from the apartment. Looking for alcohol... I was on a mission. Just a short hop to pick up something to drink. A bottle of rum, a 6 pack, something. And some cold medicine, too.

So there I was, at Safeway, and I couldn't make up my mind... I was thinking, am I going to buy cold medicine, or alcohol? Both? I walked around for a bit, found the cold medicine; picked it up. Cold medicine in hand, doing good so far... but if I buy this, thought I, then I won't have enough for a bottle of rum. This bothered me somewhat.

After a few seconds of careful contemplation, this didn't bother me anymore. Everything will work itself out... that's the thought that ran through my mind at the time. So, I took the cold medicine to the counter and browsed the alcohol section (Safeway has a liquor store built in that sells the straight stuff at all hours, ain't that cool?). Anywho, after a minute or two, I realized that I didn't have enough for both cold medicine and alcohol. Duh, and damn. What's it going to be, cold medicine or alcohol? I let other customers go head of me while I decided.

Ok, that's it. I took the cold medicine back and put it on the shelf. I had decided on alcohol... it seemed wise at the time. BUT, I wasn't gonna buy it at Safeway. Somehow I felt like they didn't deserve my money, since I didn't have enough cash for medicine AND alcohol. I'll take my business elsewhere, thank you, evil corporation, for requiring more money than I have in my pocket. Does that make sense? No, and I understand that. However, I routinely act on information that makes no sense. That's just me, though.

So, thusly armed with a megadose of pride and feeling right about everything, I marched right out of those doors and right into New Town Liquor. It's only right next door. Right there, in fact, in the same building. Just a short jaunt through an indoor hallway, a shortcut through the mall, and there you are. Or, there I am. Take that, Safeway, for not letting me afford beyond my means. But, I didn't go into the liquor store...

Maybe I should digress for a minute. The Safeway and the New Town Liquor store are both in the same building, which happens to be a mall. Yeah, there is an actual mall here in Ketchikan, barely thriving with half of the stores closed, and dark, even on Saturdays. This mall is right across the street from my apartment, and they used to have a Waldenbooks here but it closed in April of this year. The only real bookstore here in Ketchikan. I bought a book the last time I was here in '07, and now it's closed... just like the other half of the mall. I gotta say, when I first arrived here and realized that there was no bookstore; man oh man, not only did I feel a little bit lost, but I was kind of pissed, too. But this was before I discovered the public library...

...anywho, it was only a short march out of the Safeway and into the Mall, and across the Mall Hall was the New Town Liquor store, which was where I intended to go. Only... I didn't go there. Instead, I decided to just loiter there in the Mall Hall. I dunno why I did this, I just did. Call it an act of impulse. A compulsive act. Whatever. So, I decided to delay my liquor purchase on some unexplainable whim. Sorry for the buildup; it probably means nothing in the Great Scheme Of Things Involving Me... but allow me to elucidate anyway.

The Mall still had functional escalators, which is kind of remarkable. I went up the escalator, and on the way up, I looked across at the down escalator directly across from me (which was also functional... in a redundant way), and saw what looked to me to be a very old lady... sunken eye sockets, stringy hair, thin, tiny; going down. I describe this as accurately as I remember it. I didn't think twice about this old lady until I reached the top.

After I had almost forgotten about this, after I had almost relegated it from short term memory into oblivion, after I had stepped off of the escalator, this old lady had suddenly rushed up to me, and was giving me a hug. WTF? thought I. I stepped back and recognized the old lady... and by the way, this next part kind of freaked me out at the time.

It was Maria, the 19 year old girl who I had met about a month ago; the one who had poured out her life story to me while I was at work, the one who had described to me the horrible things that had happened to her. This was the young vibrant girl, full of energy that day, who I had just then (now) seen (had seen, was seeing) as an old, withered lady, going down the escalator as I went up the escalator. This girl is 19 years old - her name is Maria. Why did I see her as an old lady? How did that happen? I just don't understand that at all.

I remembered her confession to me that day - me, a complete stranger - about how she had been horribly raped. There I was, having a random encounter with her, in the mall; not unlike the random encounter in the store that day. This is a young girl, not an old lady; young and pretty and exuberant, and I know her; kind of. It's hard to describe how odd this feels to me, so I won't even try, except to say that it was... is... it feels important, somehow.

Her mom was there, calling to her, to come back down the escalator. Maria ignored her mom and kept hugging me. Then she immediately went into high gear, talking, telling me things about her life since we had last talked, telling me more things, confiding more personal information, a torrent of emotional communication which I tried to keep up with.

We talked about stuff. She told me stuff, I told her stuff. She's very young - so young. What is her life going to be like, I wondered? Will it consist of more pain? Will it get better? What is up with this girl? We talked and walked for a while, there on the upper floor of this dead mall. Suddenly it hit me that she should be with her mom, who most likely is wondering what the hell happened to her daughter, and who is that stranger she ran up to and hugged? The next thing I thought was that I'm leaving here, very soon, and I worried, as I am wont to do. I pulled her into the nearest store, intent on asking the clerk for a pen.

"I'm going to give you my phone number and facebook page, because I'm leaving soon. I'm going back to Texas in a week. Are you on facebook?" I felt really protective of her, in a big way, right then (I still do). I didn't want her out of contact with me in case she needed to talk about something...

Maria, flustered. "No, but I'll make a page."

We wait in line for a few moments, so I can get a pen. The proprietor tries to sell us one, until I make it clear that I only want to borrow, not buy. This little episode passes, and we finally get to the counter after a few moments of weird silence. I procure the pen, and write down my phone number and facebook info.

"Look up my name on facebook, ok? When you make your page?"

"Maria, lets go!" Maria's mom is there, at the top of the escalator, looking at us in the store. She doesn't look happy. She's probably very worried - I sure hope so - about who the hell this guy is, this weird... person whom her daughter is talking to; who she's been walking with on the upper floors of a half deserted mall for the past 10 minutes. I felt embarrassed and guilty.

I give Maria the piece of paper with the info on it.

"Take care." I waved at her. And, "Be careful!" I say as...

...she disappears down the escalator with her mom. She has a mom; a mom who should take care of her. Who is worried about her. A mom who cares about her.

I hang out for a bit, thinking about what just happened.

I also wonder why I alternate between 1st and 3rd person when I write stuff like this.

Past and present tense, rather, I should say. I get my tenses and persons mixed up.

Memories

Memories... light the corners of my mind...

Misty water colored memories...

Of The Dark Tower.