Echo

“End of the Trail”

We explored the area and collected rocks. He said he really liked rocks, so I helped him find ones that were cool looking. I noticed that whenever he was talking like a normal human being, he would mention his grandfather a lot, the times spent with him, the things he learned from him. He had mentioned before that his grandfather had passed away recently. Sensing a way to get to a real person, I asked him about his grandfather, and we got into a deeper level of conversation. On the way back, I busted his balls a little bit about how he really goes out of his way to be kind of a douche when in moments when he doesn’t think anyone is noticing, he does really considerate things, showing that he’s a thoughtful and sensitive person. It really doesn’t add up, I said. So what’s the deal, Tom?

We got into a really deep conversation where he told me about his exes (he’s dated two single mothers in a row) and I suspected that he’s still in love with the second to last girlfriend, but it sounded like if their relationship was solid, then maybe he just met her too early in his journey, and it was necessary to let her go for now. Who could tell if they wouldn’t reconnect at a better time when they’re ready. Ever since I was young I used to feel that the worst thing would be to meet my soulmate, the kind I could walk a lifetime with, before I was ready. That thought has always gotten me to face all of life’s challenges as head-on as I could, so I would waste as little time as possible getting myself to the place where I would be ready for my life partner when our path’s crossed, though to be honest, I don’t think the universe just gives you one chance. I feel like if you miss your chance, you just go through the difficult process of having to let them go, someone who is such an incredible fit for you, until you come around again to a place where you are ready. Then whoever it is, that same person or someone else who is equally qualified to make you happy, will be there when you’re ready.

It seemed that a lot of Tom’s issues are tied to his grandfather’s death, but I suspected it was more complicated, but I wasn’t sure until
I could meet his parents or at least learn more about them. My calling him out did help though, and from that time on, without his weird behavior, we’ve been able to really connect as friends.

The hike back was much more pleasant than the hike out to the waterfall since I was finally talking to a real person, and we ended up sitting at the shuttle stop and getting to know each other on a level with more substance. I told him he was someone I frankly could never date because he was inconsistent and it was clear he had no idea what he wanted. I need a guy that I know where he’s coming from and who he is, because I don’t do well with guessing. He asked me what I meant and I pointed out things like how he would put out something real, like a sincere part of himself towards someone, then hedge it by taking it back, acting like he’s someone who doesn’t give out sincere things, or inviting the person to question his sincerity. So what it really shows is that he’s telling someone to “approach at their own risk” because they don’t know what they’re getting. It’s kind of a standard douchebag move where a person thinks someone is interested in them, but really, they’ve been offered to approach at the cost of their own feelings, so if their feelings get hurt, it was never the technical responsibility of the person who had first shown interest. It’s a way of going about connections that’s not very respectful, I told him. You know better than that.

He listened, and was big about trying to understand what I was saying, which gave me more respect for him. He mentioned he thought I had kind of a pessimistic opinion of him, because I’d said that he “seemed” like a good person. I pointed out that I had a pretty balanced, objective opinion of him, because I’d looked past the behavior that most people would have already been turned off by, and noticed another layer, one that showed a lot of thought and consideration for others, and a wide streak of kindness. Kindness is one of the most valuable traits I appreciate in people, which is probably why I hadn’t completely written him off days ago.

He asked me why I thought he was inconsistent, because he did genuinely like me and want to spend time with me, but had no idea why he was acting inconsistently.

I told him my theory that deep down, he was probably a great guy, offering things of high value that are honest, real, deeply compassionate and affirming, but he also didn’t know what he wanted, or who he wanted to be, and wasn’t ready to have anyone attach to him, pinning their hopes and dreams on him before he knew who he was and where he was going. It’s part of the natural process, I told him, and it’s fine, but you have to recognize that you’re at the beginning of the journey of figuring these things out. No one expects you to know already.

It’s like you are attracted to people and want to get close, but you don’t want them to attach and become an obligation before you’ve agreed to accept them, I said. So you want people to get close to help you figure out what you want, but not too close where they expect something from you. It’s like you’re afraid that by showing interest in them and showing real things about you and what you can offer, people might fall in love with you, and you have ambivalent feelings about that kind of responsibility if you’re not completely sure you want to accept it.

You see and feel a lot, more than the average person, he said.

Sometimes it’s just about really listening or watching what people are really saying, I said.

He thought about it, then added, I feel like you’re like this future version of me…just further along the path.

I laughed. I’ve actually thought the same thing.

Don’t worry, son. You’re gonna get there, I said. And you’re going to be an amazing person.

He laughs shyly and pretends to roll his eyes. He hates it when I call him son.

He says that this conversation is unusually deep considering we don’t know each other very well, but he thanks me for it, and for being so honest with him to help him become a better person.

I can only be honest, I said. And my favorite thing in life is helping people. Remember the other day when you said I had a superpower of appearing and disappearing like a ninja, and I told you that was the least of my powers?

He laughs. Yeah.

I’m on the brink here. I’m about to tell him a secret, and in the daytime no less. This is highly unusual.

My biggest power is I can get things out of people. Pain. Potential. Feelings. Ideas. Things they shouldn’t hold on to. Things they need to get out. Things they need to hear themselves say, and see that someone understands. Things they’ve never told anyone. Secrets. There are certain strangers I connect with, and an entire universe spills out. And people intuitively trust me because I care, I listen, I don’t judge, and I’ve got a strict code that dictates that I can’t do anything unless it’s with good intentions.

That’s a great skill to have, he said, then fell into silence. I don’t know what he’s thinking, if he even knows what I’m talking about, but I don’t worry about it. I’ve touched the core of a real person, and that’s all that matters.

*****

We realized that we’d been sitting at the stop for almost 2 hours waiting for a bus that should come every 30 minutes. Realized that we were sitting at the wrong stop and caught the 2nd to last trip back into town. The bus driver asked us where we’re from, and when he heard I was from California, he said, that’s where they got all that legalized weed.

It suddenly turned into an interesting bus ride, because he had lots and lots of enthusiasm for talking about weed. I told him that I had lived in Amsterdam last year, and had actually won a Cannabis Cup for a smoking product that my company (comprised of just me) helped an inventor bring to market. There was a mother with a teenage son sitting in front of me and she clapped her hands on his ears and told him not to listen to us, so I tried to steer the conversation towards the intellectual, telling him there was recently a study done that estimated California could collect $1.4 billion in taxes to go towards balancing our deficit if they made it a regulated substance. And currently the California medical dispensaries don’t pay federal taxes, because the federal government doesn’t recognize them as businesses, but the US is desperate for another gross national product. I didn’t exactly want to be in this conversation, even though I don’t have a problem discussing most things under the sun, but this was definitely mixed company. And he was wearing his headset so the entire bus was captively listening to his side of the conversation over the speakers.

We met up with Tom’s parents in town who were really, really cool, and I spent time with them helping Tom pick out a watch. As we were in the store, I asked his mom what she did for a living, and she said that her husband was a real estate agent and she used to help him out, but her father died last year and she hasn’t been able to work since. Too sad, she added, quietly. A picture of this family was starting to become clearer in my mind. The feelings were so strong of what was hidden inside, I was getting taste sensations.

We headed back to the boat, and they invited me to eat at their table, but I told them that I’d met the executive chef and he said he was going to do something for us tonight, so I was curious to see what it was.

I was late to dinner because I ran into the girls and chatted with them. As I walked towards our table, I passed the chef and he said that he’d bought us a bottle of red wine, for which I thanked him. We hadn’t had any wine with dinner any of the nights, so it was nice to have and made for a lively dinner. There was a big dessert gala afterwards we headed to. With a glass and a half in
me, I was very…happy. And very red.

The gala featured a band playing oldies, ice sculptures, fondue fountains and lots of desserts. It was all pretty sweet. The chef is walking around and my mom keeps telling me to go over and say thank you to him, and while I kind of didn’t want to, I know I should so I go over. I shake his hand and thank him for the wine, telling him that dinner was excellent. He asks me what I had and I told him I had his menu with the rib-eye, though I tried the duck as well. He asks me where I’m from and I say, California, and he tells me he’s from Jamaica. He asks what I am and I tell him that I’m Chinese. I also mention to him that I have a friend who’s half Jamaican and half Chinese, and he responds that his grandfather is Chinese. He invites me to hang out later, another awkward exchange where I make non-committal noises, and gives me his card with his number on it.

I got on the dance floor and danced a little. Man, I was in such a good mood. I’m someone who does most of my dancing in my car, with friends or in private. Dancing in public can make me feel a bit self-conscious. So if I’m feeling the flow and comfortable dancing, then I’m definitely in a very happy state. This older woman started taking off her sweater, and I happened to have some dollar bills in my pocket so I flashed them, and she laughed and pretended to dance for them. This got the attention of this older man with a ponytail who was with her, who took this as his opportunity to grab me and dance with me. Don’t spin me, I said to him. Don’t you dare spin me.

So he spun me like 4 times in a row to the point I got really dizzy, staggering when he let me go. He lunged forward to grab my hand, but I wasn’t getting on that ride again, so I grabbed my mom and pushed her at him and said, Here! Dance with her! And left. Here’s my mom getting spun:

Before you laugh and say, “Weee!” just know that moments later, he conked her face into the back of her friend’s head and gave her a bit of a black eye under her eyebrow. Did I feel bad for throwing her under the ponytailed bus? A little bit. But only a little.

I went back to our table and the boys were hyper as hell. We started playing this game where they would hold out their hands and I would pretend they were drums. I don’t know how it happened, but they suddenly become savages, turning on me, tackling me to the couch and playing drums on my head and body. Terrorists!

when children attack!

I kept trying to sit up and they would slam me back down until finally, I had to go King Kong on their asses and throw them off. I totally roared!

I danced a little, then came back and was wrestling with Jonathan when I looked to my left and saw Christian standing by the bar, looking in our direction with a giant smile on his face. Man, that guy’s smile lights up a room. What the hell is his problem.

Tom and the girls showed up and came to sit with us, but the girls were standoffish, then left suddenly. Tom was worried about if they were upset with him, but I told him, it was probably between the two of them. I knew he was worrying about it though, so I asked him to dance with me, but he still wasn’t feeling well from the food poisoning. I told him to get some gingerale, but since he’s by himself (at one point I came back from the dance floor and he was having what looked like a staring contest with my grandmother), I tried to stick with him so he wouldn’t feel alone. Like I’m making a conscious effort to consider his inner state and make him feel comfortable and supported because I know he doesn’t feel good. He’s probably also minorly sulking. So I’m teasing him with my dance moves, and I want him to know these moves won’t wait forever, and I don’t remember what it was he said that irritated me in a way that made me feel like here I was making an effort, but if he didn’t want it I could easily be off having my own fun.

So I say as much, then turn around and see Christian’s still at the bar. I know that dude likes to dance, and goddam…that smile…so I wave at him, gesturing if he wants to dance. He toasts me with his drink.

Oh-kay. Wrong message.

I gesture more emphatically what I hope is the universal sign for do-you-want-to-dance, and he comes over.

He says he’s too stuffed from dinner. He asks me if he can ask me a question. Are you a swimmer?

You’re asking because of my shoulders?, I ask.

Yes.

I tell him that I play basketball but a lot of people mistake me for a swimmer, and he says I look like an athlete of some sort. He tells me he ran the 800, and I think he must have pretty good mental discipline. It does at some point surprise me that we’re in a conversation. I’d pretty much written the whole incident at the dance club off, and detached from it, assuming he thought I was just another shallow cruise girl hitting on him. To be having this conversation here felt a bit like a redemption, a connection that hadn’t missed, just required a little toss through time and space the way a trapeze artist gets tossed by her partner, hangs in space for a moment before grabbing the bar on the other side. I felt better that in his memory of this cruise, I wouldn’t be just another ho.

He asks me what I do in Los Angeles and I tell him I’m a writer. He asks me what I write and I tell him I went to film school so I started with screenplays, etc., but now I’m working on my first novel, which isn’t going well. I also have a humor blog, and I write poetry. Basically everything.

I ask him if the cruisers on this trip have been fairly well-behaved, and he said outside of old ladies constantly harassing him and wanting to take pictures with him, they have been. I say it’s probably because he’s got that something that makes him seem like a celebrity. He says that people tell him he looks like Andre Agassi, but he got the looks and Andre Agassi got the skills, so he makes the money (a voice inside me whispers, julia…didn’t YOU say that?) I say people are probably drawn to him because he is who he is, and the confidence of being content with that is what people are drawn to. I feel a groundedness inside him, and I appreciate it. Very few people know who they really are, or have done the work to get to know themselves, and even fewer people have gotten to a place of accepting and liking who they are. I knew I didn’t know him well, these were just initial impressions, but he struck me as someone who had a good sense of himself and was happy with the person he’d become.

I ask him how long he’s been working on the ship, and he says he’s got a 4 month contract with 2 months off. He plans to go to Thailand on vacation when he’s done. I say that it’ll be good to get away from all the old ladies harassing him, and he said that he’ll have no ladies harassing him because he’ll have company. I take this as his way of telling me he’s got a woman and setting a boundary, which I’m fine with because my pride was already so spanked by our first encounter at the dance club, I’m not thinking anywhere in that direction.

He wants me to
guess his age. I haven’t really been able to tell age since I got back from Europe…my perspective of people goes deeper and broader now that age is really hard for me to pinpoint. I think it had to do with meeting so many people without a common language, that to communicate and understand, you have to look into their eyes and grab meaning from other places. So I got really accustomed to being in that place. I tell him about how I can’t tell age and he still wants me to guess. I feel like he could be anywhere between 26 and 35. That’s my usual range for anyone “around my age.” It takes me a long time to guess, but I guess 31.

Wow, he says. I’m actually 35. But thank you for shaving 4 years off.

I wonder if he wanted me to guess because he thought he was older and that I was a lot younger.

I tell him I’m 31, and he’s surprised. I just told him instead of playing the guessing game because I didn’t want him feeling he had to flatter me by guessing young. I’m proud of my age (though 30 was easier to say; I don’t find the number 31 very interesting). I’m proud of the life I’ve led and the wisdom I possess. I just seem younger because I truly enjoy myself and life. And I tend to find happiness in big and small things.

I don’t know how we got into a deeper life discussion, but I asked him what he was looking for in life. He said that he was looking for a place he could really call home, a place of belonging, and it struck me because it’s something I could deeply relate to. I guess most people can, if they really thought about it, if they really felt inside themselves for what it is they need. I thought about that night with the hipster, the one who told me I would never see an Alfred as my partner, and how when I told him about the hat I’d lost and how I would accept as hard proof of God if I’m walking on the beach on the other side of the world when I’m 8o and found my hat, and he wished he could see me in that exact moment because I would probably be the most beautiful woman in the world. Because I would be radiating an absolute happiness at having found what I never expected to find. I looked at this man, feeling his light and his depth, and felt with conviction he would get what he was looking for as long as he believed in it enough, and it suddenly filled my world with colors. I felt the same way as probably the hipster that night…a feeling of inspiration and joy…that in the moment this man sitting next to me found his home, the place where he belonged, wherever, whomever, whatever it may be, he would radiate a light so bright, the world would be able to feel it in its depths and light the sky.

It would be another small win in the grand scheme of things for the good guys.

The thought made me so happy I couldn’t help laughing and clapping my hands, this vision of his happiness making me giddy like a little kid. I had bubbles in my head. I told him that maybe in that moment when he finds his peace, everyone around the world connected to him will feel happiness for a moment, or be very lucky for a moment, but they won’t know why.

We started talking about other things. I ask him in terms of his own life, kind of like how every runner focuses at a point just ahead of them, what’s at the farthest end of his periphery. We’re talking, and suddenly, I see Tom take off without saying goodbye. I’m actually worried about it, because we’d left a conversation open when Christian came over, but I figured I would catch up with him later and smooth it out.

Christian asks if I would like to get tea somewhere else because it’s hard to talk in such a loud environment, so we head over to the cafe for tea. We’re talking and truthfully, it feels like one of those “assignment” connections, the ones where I meet a stranger, talk to them in a way that helps them get clarity in their life, and then I never see them again. I don’t get anything out of it on a personal tangible level outside of a sense of a good deed done, some food for thought, maybe some karma in the bank, but I feel in a way that it’s important that I do these things because when I don’t avoid these chance encounters that feel a bit like “assignments,” I find that my life becomes very randomly lucky. And plus, I really enjoy being helpful and making people feel understood.

We’re having a great conversation, and he’s telling me a little bit about the path that led him to work on the ship, when Tom comes up and says that he had gone to the bathroom, but when he came back everyone was gone. We invite him to join us, and the three of us have a great conversation deep into the night. It was actually really unexpected and rewarding. The whole day was marked by fulfilling, deeper conversations, between the one I had earlier with Tom where I broke him open and touched something real, then his mother opening up about her pain, then meeting and getting to know Christian. It was a highly productive day, quietly satisfying and I felt I’d performed all my spiritual functions gracefully. I went to sleep feeling content, like I’d done a good deed, and the universe was happy with me.

The next morning, I woke up with a fever.

Day 6 – Thursday, 7/31 – Ketchikan

7/31/09 Free write:

22 day! Self-portrait: My spirit is young. My soul is old. My heart is open, and my mind wants to taste the universe. I will probably never be truly happy, but I will always find inspiration. There’s too much knowledge in this world and too little wisdom. This is the way the world turns. And upon it, the things that fly off and disintegrate, and the things that stay rooted. In the many ways that we learn to love and hate ourselves, we find that nothing is real except the things that have come to pass. What is life? What are the compromises we make? What do we give up when it is time? Time stops for no one, but we can stop time.

These problems are so small. May your passions always run deep and your light always shine bright. A beautiful man walking a beautiful life. Strong first step. No second step. No killer instinct. Catch and release. What a stunning man. You are my poetry.

Seeking inspiration.

The world is as much inside me as outside, sifting through my fingers. And when the storms came, the children remained in the yard and not a sound could be heard except the beating of our hearts as the water poured down with promises of a new beginning.

Seeking light.

Warmth giver. Replenishing love. I am going to crack this one open. I would not betray these confidences. If I can’t trust you to be careful with the things of value which I show you, I will not show them to you. How many people will understand you? Believe in you? How many people even understand themselves.

I will write what I know and let the rest fall into place.

To know deeply and truthfully. See things for what they really are, then inject some hope. Believe that there is a place for you somewhere in this world. That you will find what you are looking for as long as you believe exactly this, even if you can’t see it yet. What is imagination can become a fact, if you think of it that way. Why should you continue…to shake it off…if the writings on the wall? Tears when I feel beauty. When I see it. Innocence and magic are the only things worth living for. I like quiet but powerful things. Subtle but powerful. Still waters run deep. I am a well on a moonlit night. The smart ones always let the moon lead. But who can wander deep enough into the forest to find me?

Eventually you will find your peace. The wings that bring you to great heights. Som
eday, two feet ahead, you will turn the corner, and there you are.

*****

I woke up with my brain dragging me out the door, ready to output some words. Went to get breakfast but wasn’t hungry. I recognize the symptoms. This is always how it starts. I’m itching to do my free-write and tried to do it in the mess hall but it was too noisy, so I went down to the Cova Cafe, ordered a latte and wrote.

Stared at the slowly rotating gold structure in the middle of the room, head numb, then suddenly realized on its golden band, the word, Seek. Ah. A very important word in my life. Perhaps the brand name of my inner motor. As I’m staring at the word in wonder, watching it come round, then disappear, then come around again, I see Christian pass by on the floor above, wearing glasses, his confident, graceful stride I would come to easily recognize anywhere.

One word.

One echo.

Stunning.

My heart skipped. The previous night’s conversation flooded back. The words, the electricity, the confusion. Did all of it really happen? Who are these people to me now?

I didn’t have time or mindspace to question what was going on, my brain refused to go there, so I let the free-write try to unravel my insides, but everything came out cryptic. I had left myself no tangible string to pull to unravel this.

Just another day, I told myself. Just another day. Take it one bit at a time.

I looked up and saw Tom walk in, looking around. I put down my pen. I sense my writing day is over.

He sees me and approaches.

I was looking for you, he said.

I know, I said, laughing.

Something inside me feels like it’s time.

We talk and it’s different. It’s calm, deep, serious. I sense we don’t have much time so I have to get in quick, clean and precise. I have to dive deep, grab the root, pull it up and show it to him. Whether or not he could believe it or understand it was completely up to him.

I had a feeling I had the key. It was dropped in my lap the day before and I remember it being unexpected, but noting a possible significance in my mind.

Your mother mentioned that she doesn’t work anymore since your grandfather passed, I said.

There’s a flicker of surprise in his eyes that this subject has come up, but by faith, he follows.

Yeah, she and my aunt have had to take care of my grandmother who hasn’t been doing well. So it takes up a lot of her time, he said.

He knows and I know he’s not telling the full story.

She told me it’s because she’s still sad, I press.

Now I’ve caught him off guard. His mouth drops into a little “O” as his mind scrambles for words.

She told you that?, he asks, like he’s not exactly sure he believes me.

Yes.

Wow, you really do get people to tell you things.

The rest of the conversation was like a melting. He told me about life in his home after his grandfather passed, the kind of man he was, the way the family fell apart afterwards. How his dad had heart problems from the stress, his grandmother, mother and aunt were near paralyzed with grief, and his uncle wanted to leave his aunt claiming she was cheating. How he was the person that everyone went to keep everyone together. I commented on how much weight from other people he must have had to shoulder at such a young age. And meanwhile, he must have been going through so much of his own pain. In such a difficult time, who was taking care of him? He thought about it for a moment.

Myself, I guess.

I looked into his eyes and could feel the pressure inside him, like water rising. I felt tears well up in my eyes.

Sometimes kids are forced to grow up too fast, because they learn they have to take care of the very people who should be taking care of them, I said.

If there’s one life experience I understand and can relate to, it is this.

I think about it.

You’re a very strong, kind person who’s gotten so good at taking care of other people, your lesson is to learn how to let other people take care of you, I said.

He opened his mouth, then shut it again, staring me in the eyes, so wide, so deep. He’s listening.

You deserve so much more, Tom. Give only to people who give back to you equally. You’ve gotta find a way to feel good about someone wanting to give to you as well. Don’t confine yourself to deserving less. You’re like a vending machine that works on an honor system. If you keep giving away sodas and you’re not getting any money back, stop giving away sodas. Start believing you deserve to have someone care about you, be compassionate with you and the things you hold valuable. That’s why you keep dating single mothers. You figure, they’re maternal and know how to take care of someone, but they’re already symbolically bound to never exactly having enough to give to you. You have to find a way to truly believe that you deserve exactly what it is that you want most.

We continued our intense conversation (his parents later claimed they walked by a couple of times to see if we’d notice them, but we were so deep in conversation we didn’t), when Christian approached. The three of us talked, but to be honest, I don’t really remember the conversation. I remember some words exchanged, some laughing, some good feelings, but my most vivid experience of the memory, is the intensity of his eyes, the warmth of his smile, and the echo that rattled the walls of my body as my soul hit the ground, face-first.

*****

Left to get ready for fishing, giggling the whole time at myself. All this talk, all these years, all these deep, philosophical, mystical ideals and theories about soulmates and destiny and heaven and sky, and all it took was just a really, really nice, decent guy to make me fall flat on my face. It really is the simplest things in life that are most beautiful, can be the most fulfilling.

I knew I was devastated. This had ruined me. When I made my list of 3 places you’ll never meet a heavyweight, I didn’t add cruises as number 4, and this must be some sort of joke on me. What real can possibly come out of a meeting that so breaks almost every practical rule of life? My SOS read:

julia’s doing a face plant for a man with long, graceful fingers and a mind she wants to taste. he inspires poetry in her heart. disaster imminent.

Went fishing. We were disappointed to have to share the boat with people we didn’t know, but they turned out to be a father/son duo from Texas who were very nice. It felt like I was tagging along a family trip, but took this time to really get to know Tom’s parents and make them feel comfortable. Caught 6 fish. Couldn’t stand it when the captain hit ’em in the head with a hammer, so I would always find something interesting in the Captain’s seat to look at when it happened. Tom’s mom really likes me. I can almost feel her wondering what it would be like to have me in her family. It’s sweet, but I can’t give too much thought to it.

Formal night again. On the bus ride home, Tom had decided he was going to go for Sarah, and enlisted my help. We decided on Operation Plan A & B (I’m sure we could have been more creative with the name, but with this guy, it’s probably safer to be literal): I would get to the dining room early and talk with them. Happen to mention that I really got to know Tom on this fishing trip and how he’s actually a really nice guy who’s just acting strange because he’s a little sh
y. See if I can repair his reputation. Plan B is when he comes in after I’ve dropped this feel-good nugget on the girls, has dinner with them, and behaves.

We’re all running late for dinner so I’m hurdling around the room, because I once calculated that it takes me a minimum of 24 minutes to shower and be out the door at home, but I don’t know how my time will be affected by the small room, the weak hair dryer and the human obstacles.

I get down to the dining room in about 35 minutes, sit down at the girls table. I realize I have to do this quickly because I was supposed to call Tom when I was out the door so he could time 15 minutes after the call to come down and join them, but I forgot. So I ask them how their day went, blah blah blah, and I wait for them to ask how the fishing trip was, which they do. Then I tell them that it was great getting to know him and his family, that they’re going through a hard time because of his grandfather’s passing…has he told you about that? (that got sympathy noises), but I really got to know him. He’s actually a really nice guy. He just does silly things that make him seem like a player, and you’re like, “What the hell’s your malfunction?” but underneath that all, he’s a sweet person.

I’m making the girls laugh and it’s disarming them, shifting their opinion. They point out some of his good traits and agree he probably just acts silly sometimes because he’s young. Man, I should get paid for this stuff.

I figure I’d slabbed enough butter on those hinges now that the door was cracked, that as long as Tom didn’t throw a flaming bag of poop through the door, he was set.

I got up, claimed I had to find my mom for photos, and called Tom to get his ass downstairs. Plan A was completed.

*****

Dinner was good. My mom left the table and asked me to order for her, so I got the sea-bass because I had a feeling it was gonna be really good. When it came, she got really irritated that she didn’t want fish, and I didn’t say anything because I was expecting this. I was waiting for my moment… She tried it, then tried everyone else’s and declared her entree by far the best. Aha!

I totally knew it would be good! You never trust me!

Oh, she said, and kinda laughed, embarrassed, and shrugged.

I totally picked half that sea-bass off her plate.

I earned it! That’s trophy fish.

There was a show in the theater and we drifted over there. Walking down the ramp I saw Christian near the top of the theater. Isn’t it funny how you never notice someone, and then when you do, you see them everywhere? Granted, we’re all on a boat so it’s like being in an aquarium, but I can’t remember having laid eyes on him at all before the dance contest, though I assume he must have been on the ship. The first moment of awareness was on the dance floor, the 11 on the white square on his back being the magnet that drew him into my scope.

The number 11. I’ve been on the lookout for an 11. But that’s a story for later.

So I ask him how the show will be, and he says he doesn’t know because he hasn’t seen any of the shows, but I could watch it for 20 minutes, and if I didn’t like it, I could join him for tea in the cafe. He’d mentioned the night before about a Polish Quartet that was very good, and I’m always interested in music, particularly when someone says it’s something they enjoy, because I find that being open to experience the things that people you like enjoy, often brings positive new experiences into your life. So that sounded like a good plan. Plus, I was most interested in conversation.

I got there first. The music was hypnotic. I would keep drifting off into space, thinking so many different thoughts, wondering about so many lives.

So I guess the show wasn’t to your liking, I heard someone say from behind me and turned to see Christian. Do you mind if I join you, he asked.

Of course, I said, pulling my mind back into the now.

He was pulling out the chair but stopped.

Of course, you do mind, or it’s okay?

Of course it’s okay, I said.

He ordered tea but got called away to take photos. It was me alone with the music again and my mind drifted. I’ve been finding that my mind is more expansive, able to put bigger pictures together and understand things about people more quickly and profoundly in a comfortable manner on this trip. I’m sincere enough in my presentation of myself that I can get close to people without them feeling defensive. In fact, most people have been welcoming it. I wonder if this is just a temporary window of time where things are falling into place, or a development in my abilities. Regardless, I’m making the most of it.

Christian comes back just as the musicians go on break and requests a song. Later, he would tell me that it’s about a man in love with a very bad woman, someone he passionately loves but who treats him badly. I asked him what the words were because I was very interested, and he remembered some of it, but said he’d find the translation later. It sounds tragic, I said when in my mind I thought, Bittersweet…As the greatest love affairs are.

I appreciate bittersweet. I understand bittersweet. Bittersweet is truthful. Bittersweet is life. Bittersweet is being able to taste everything that life has to offer, to have fully lived. What I found though, is that the more I’ve tasted life, having an ability to find the tiniest, easiest rewards that give you the simplest pleasures can open the door for a very pure joy that can last a long time. Like holding a child’s hand the moment he sees the ocean for the very first time. Or a random act of kindness between strangers to light up a lonely night.

We talked about subjects great and small. We learned the details of each other’s lives as well as traveled places through words so broad and dimensional, that sometimes we wouldn’t be sure what we were talking about, only that it was the truth. He mentioned he had a girlfriend again, which I accepted and made a note of the boundary, but to be honest, despite how drawn I was to him, despite my fascination with him, I had been very conscious about the lines. In fact, I know I like touching people when I talk and feel connected, but every time I let my guard down and in a happy moment, felt my hand going towards his space, I would make a quick effort to pull it back. I wanted to be respectful. I didn’t want a beautiful connection to go anywhere that wasn’t already agreed upon.

We talked late into the night. He reminded me that I needed to turn the clocks forward an hour. I never turned mine back, I said.

It was time to get some sleep. As we part, I tell him, I hope you find what you’re looking for, your place of belonging. And when you find that place of happiness, you’d better let me know!

Wouldn’t you know through the connection, he asked, smiling.

Yeah, probably. But I’d also be curious what exactly it is.

I go to shake his hand, but he gives me a hug. When I feel the warm skin of his cheek against mine, so familiar, I know without a doubt that I’ve known this man somewhere, deep in the past, or in the expanse of our future, somewhere in this circle, we have or will know each other deeply again.