whimsy

the whimsical outsiders. the blue and pink haired lady with a pet monkey, the tattooed biker social worker, the old accordion player always stealing jealous glances at the monkey. never a harsh word for anyone; all will share their last morsel. i know these characters are a lie. a lovely fantasy world; a plausible Narnia. plausible only for those who have not visited that wardrobe and seen who really lives there. it is much more like a nature show, people devolve when they find themselves in a struggle to survive. i have been in that struggle. there was one person, in Denver, only one who was not devolved. he found me as i struggled through life at 17, homeless, with no friends or family, emotionally crippled and unable to find any opening to begin to live. he was a biker. he was thin, short, somewhere between 29 and 40, long unkempt beard, wallet chain, jeans and jean jacket, and a motorcycle. he took me to stay with him, it was like a commune almost, a cooperative anyway. there were 3 houses i think, close together. i was never sure who owned what, but they seemed to pool the rent anyway, maybe food too. i shared his bed, but he never touched me. he never wanted anything from me, he only wanted to help me. i was young and messed up. i was into some things that weren't good, but i didn't know what else to do. i was full of hatred for myself and the world. i wasn't there long, maybe a week, maybe it was 2, maybe a month. time was fluid then.

i met a girl and i began a friendship with her. she had her own story. she was on the run from something. she was with a boyfriend and another friend. they invited me to stay with them at an apartment where they were staying; someone was letting them use it. i decided to go, i don't know why. i should have known they were no good when we went to pick up my things and they wanted to rob the people i was staying with. i wouldn't let them. they wanted to take the stereo of the guy whose wife had left him and taken their baby, she was there for one or two days when i first got there. he was torn up over it. i don't know why she left; he always seemed very nice and decent to me. maybe she got tired of not having anything, or maybe there were things i didn't know. there was one other couple, they were very young, not much older than me. he was pumped up and goofy, i didn't care for him at all, or her, a cross between Barbie and Daisy Duke. then there was one other guy, he had long blond hair, an even grungier more countrified Axle Rose with a missing tooth or two. we were all smoking pot one night and he passed me a bottle of cherry juice. it was about a one liter glass bottle, someone got them from where they worked. he was grinning as he passed it to me, a strange possibly malicious grin. i couldn't tell for sure but it made me uncomfortable. what really made me uncomfortable is that i was sure there was less juice in the bottle before he upended it and took a long swig than when he handed it to me. i knew i must be hallucinating, but nevertheless i wouldn't drink it, even though i really would have liked some.

one of them was home when i came for my things. as i was getting ready to get into the car to leave he came frantically telling me not to go until the guy who brought me to stay there (i can't even remember his name now) had a chance to talk to me. i blew them off and left. he had gotten wind of some of the things i was doing and wanted me to stop. that was probably one reasons i left when the opportunity came. and the girl was close to my age and had had a life close enough to mine that i felt like i could have a connection with her, and i had never had a connection with anyone in my whole life, not since i was in sixth grade and had a friendship that lasted a year and a half. that was the longest friendship of a handful that i ever had. i suppose this was why i went. i shouldn't have. it went horribly wrong. they were thrown out of the apartment by the landlord because the person who let them stay there hadn't paid the rent. i came back from a walk to find them sitting outside the door with all of their things. there was a bottle of shampoo of mine they left behind, i really wanted it, i had bought it from the health food store, but the apartment was locked and i couldn't get back in. they wanted me to come with them, but they had no plan beyond going to look for day labor. in the meantime, i met someone who wanted me to come with him to New Orleans. he said he had a job promised to him on the oil rigs that payed $1000 a week, which was damn good money in 1981. i didn't like him at all, but i went. we hitchhiked there, i think the car broke down on the way but i can't remember. he stole all the money i had, $160, while i was sleeping. all i wanted to do was to get away from him. we go into New Orleans and i just walked fast, not knowing where i was or where i was going. he was still there, and we were at a red light. i thought the light changed. i couldn't see well; i needed glasses and had lost them before i left home. i thought i saw other people start to cross. maybe it did and the car ran a red light, i don't know. they said i flew 10 feet. i still have a slight scar above my eye, a chipped tooth that has since been fixed, and a large bump on the outside of my right thigh where the car slammed into me.

it got worse from there. i wish i could find the man who tried to help me. i wish i could tell him how much i appreciated what he did and apologize for leaving the way i did.