He turned sideways in the aisle to move past passengers still struggling to jam slightly too-large carry-ons into the overhead compartment. I groaned inwardly, because I knew exactly where he was going to sit.<\/p>\n
It had been a long couple of nights in San Jose. My room was right next to the bar, and synthesized music pounded incessantly on the wall above my head. It was cold and the blanket inadequate. Each night I huddled with my hands between my thighs to keep them warm.<\/p>\n
I drifted off not long after I sat down on the plane, and dreamt I was Chuang Tzu dreaming he was me.\u00a0I\u2019d been looking forward to leaning up against the window and sleeping my way through the entire flight, maybe use the footwell of the empty seat next to me to stretch out.<\/p>\n
That wasn\u2019t going to happen. I knew it as soon as I saw him.<\/p>\n
He was wearing greenish cargo shorts of some sort, with too many pockets full of too much stuff so they bulged in too many places; flip flops, and a shirt that might have been white once, a long while ago, but was so wrinkled it looked like it had been wadded up and tied with tight rubber bands. He was three days away from his last shave, and his hair, though clean, looked like he combed it with his fingers.<\/p>\n
\u201cHi,\u201d he said as he sat down. He dropped the small day pack he carried to the floor, shoved it under the seat in front of him with his feet.<\/p>\n
\u201cHi. I wondered if I wouldn\u2019t run into you on this flight. I was hoping for a nap.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah, well\u2026\u201d his voice trailed off into a smile. \u201cIt\u2019s good to see you again. I didn\u2019t know if you noticed me hanging back there.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNot at first,\u201d I said. \u201cHave you been behind me the whole trip, or just since Quepos?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFor longer than you know. Let\u2019s leave it at that for now.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy have I been behind you, or why are we leaving it at that?\u201d he responded.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes,\u201d I said. His clothes had the slightest odor, I can\u2019t say that it was unpleasant, but I could not identify it. It might have been food, or perhaps just the dense muskiness of being stored without air in his backpack.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt seemed like you were doing some sort of research that might be of interest, we decided to find out.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOf interest to whom? Are you with the government? U.S. or Costa Rican?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNot really,\u201d he said. \u201cI work for more of a development agency, of sorts. Let\u2019s leave it at that for a moment. Want a Coke?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThey\u2019re not serving. We\u2019re barely off the ground.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah, I guess that\u2019s right.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSo, is your development agency a non governmental organization? Private company?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cStubborn, aren\u2019t you? No wonder all those people spilled their lives out to you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou know about that?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI thought that\u2019s what we were talking about.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIs there an echo in here?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d he said. \u201cI think it\u2019s just the drop in cabin pressure.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSo, somebody you work for or are involved with thinks that what I\u2019ve been doing is of some interest from a development point of view?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cSomething like that.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThats why you\u2019ve been following me around?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, I was following you, though that\u2019s not the right term for it, to see if you were being honest or just out to exploit others.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s the verdict?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNobody\u2019s perfect.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOuch.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou did okay,\u201d he said, trying to soften the impact.<\/p>\n
\u201cOuch.\u201d<\/p>\n
He got a tired expression on his face, and I swear he rolled his eyes, but caught himself and looked at me as directly as he could, given we were seated side-by-side in cramped airplane seats.<\/p>\n
\u201cAlright. You were as honest as you could be, and while you did stray a little close to the line at times, exploitation is hard to define when it comes to art. Do painters exploit their models?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNice analogy,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ve picked up a few pointers. The main thing is that you didn\u2019t exploit for cheap or easy reasons. And you were honest. Those are high marks where I come from. Accept it and let it go.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy sit next to me now, when you\u2019ve tried so hard to stay out of sight?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause we\u2019re about done. You\u2019re going home, and I needed to ask you some questions.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll want to ask you some in turn,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
\u201cFair enough, but do you mind if I go first?\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
\u201cI suppose not. Go.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you have a favorite?\u201d<\/p>\n
I laughed out loud, because his question hit right in the middle of the bullseye. That was the very question I\u2019d been asking myself. I looked out the window while I assembled my thoughts. He was able to stop the attendant and he even reached over and dropped my tray table. It took me until the two Cokes had arrived to give him an answer.<\/p>\n
\u201cI thought I would. I figured it would be Rebecca, of course, then thought it would be Olivia, how her potential was tempered by vulnerability. Alycia for her faith and serenity. Valerie’s blend of intelligence, wisdom and passion was stunning, and Avi’s innocence, honesty, and strength made him \u00a0\u201camazing,\u201d to use his favorite word. Ed made me sad and of course, so did Pantalones, but that was no reason to reject them. So I don\u2019t know. I didn\u2019t get quite deep enough into the others, I suppose, or deep enough into myself where they would resonate.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you learn anything?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI learned I can live small and still feel fulfilled, as long as I have art. Rebecca, Valerie and Olivia made me realize how selfish I can be.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d he asked, actually looked confused.<\/p>\n
\u201cBy how much they give, are willing to give, the extent of their sacrifice. It may be a female thing,\u201d and then I immediately regretted saying that. But by the way he smiled, I think he saw the regret and let it drop.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat else did you learn?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow thin are the differences.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe focus on the differences between us, between people or between people and animals, even between people and the ocean. But at so many levels, we are really all the same, at least have the same rhythms, and it is the rhythms that unify. I don\u2019t have better words for it than that.\u201d<\/p>\n
It was his turn to look away and think for a while.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat was your favorite place?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cBocas del Toro.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause of Olivia and Alycia, Avi and Valerie? You know they won\u2019t still be there if you ever go back,\u201d this he said with a real look of compassion in his eyes. \u201cWould you want to live there?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cProbably not,\u201d I said. \u201cI think it was the water. I like Bocas, I will go back and maybe for a longer period of time, but I don\u2019t want to die there. The Pacific Northwest is my home.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOkay. Last question. Why did you go? What were you looking for?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s two questions,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd there will be followups. But humor me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAdventure. Connection. Love, maybe.\u201d I don\u2019t think I\u2019d admitted that even to myself before he asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you find it?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cReally? What about the story of Olivia and Alycia? What about Avi and Valerie?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, yes, I saw their love, how they loved and how they were loved. I meant something else.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSomething more personal?<\/p>\n
\u201cSomething more my own,\u201d I admitted.<\/p>\n
\u201cLet me ask you this. Do you believe you can perceive an emotion you don\u2019t experience?\u201d He was looking at me intently as he asked this, so I was a bit wary, careful with my answer.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, my guess is that perceiving the emotion is experiencing it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHah!\u201d this exploded out of him, was so loud it startled me and caused the man on the aisle seat to look over, even though he was wearing headphones and watching a movie. \u201cGood boy! So if perceiving emotions and experiencing them are the same, can we agree that by perceiving love, you experienced it?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat was a trap. Yes, I\u2019ll agree I experienced a form of love and connection, but not the way I want to be loved and connected.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, let\u2019s get to that. My guess is that if you have this capacity for love, you have been loved. Correct?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOkay.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat happened?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDifferent things at different times.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou fucked it up.\u201d He managed to say that with compassion but I don\u2019t know how.<\/p>\n
\u201cMostly. Yes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDifferent reasons in different relationships.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cReally?\u201d he asked, now in the same tone of voice people use when they say \u201cseriously?\u201d indicating a level of stupidity hard to believe.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy exwife said I let go of what I want to reach for what I can\u2019t have.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSounds like a wise woman.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, and your point would be\u2026?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, don\u2019t get that way. I\u2019m on your side,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat remains to be seen,\u201d I replied.<\/p>\n
\u201cFair enough. So why did you fuck up your relationships?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShort version?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cPlease. For now.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m going to have to see you again?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLet\u2019s stick to our topic for now, Evasive Boy.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe short version is that I didn\u2019t find a partner to play in my playground.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cReally? No one wanted to commit?\u201d He said that \u201creally\u201d with the same tone of disbelief.<\/p>\n
\u201cThere were some important differences.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m sure there were. Who focused on them?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI think I wasn\u2019t ready to sacrifice my core values.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cValues?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOkay. Desires. Wants. Aspirations.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSo you sacrificed companionship instead? So you could live the life you wanted?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat seems a little harsh,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe truth can be,\u201d he threw back quickly. \u201cBut we\u2019re not done. You may appreciate the outcome. What have people said about your little stories?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI would say for the most part readers have been very receptive.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGood Lord. \u2018Very receptive?\u2019 What in Hell are you hiding from?\u201d<\/p>\n
It was my turn to sigh. I don\u2019t like talking about myself, and compliments make me uncomfortable. Especially when I am forced to recount them.<\/p>\n
\u201cFeedback has been very positive,\u201d I said at last.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, Christ, I don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBullshit.\u201d He spat that word out like he had a mouthful.<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause I shared something that I was seeing.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat you were seeing?\u201d Now the sarcasm was thick as sour cream. \u201cYou were acting out your lifelong ambition of being a video camera? A seismograph? No editing involved, just recording?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOf course not. What I saw, what I felt, how it impacted me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd readers liked this? Why?<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause I engaged with them.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEngaged with readers, or with your subjects, with your butterflies?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBoth, I guess.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy did these people talk to you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy am I talking to you?\u201d I shot back.<\/p>\n
\u201cExactly. But let\u2019s answer my question first.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause I asked them questions?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWould they have opened their hearts to just anyone the way they opened them to you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, I suppose not.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou suppose not? Let me repeat: What in Hell are you hiding from?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThey opened their hearts to me because\u2026 I cared about them. But they couldn\u2019t know that so\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
He waved his hand in preemptive dismissal of my argument.<\/p>\n
\u201cDidn\u2019t you once say that much of our personal communication is not verbal?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSo, let\u2019s assume they knew that, in your own way, you loved them.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s a little strong.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGranted. But I\u2019m not prepared to say that love is just one thing, and nothing else qualifies.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMe either,\u201d I said, mildly offended at the implication.<\/p>\n
\u201cThen stop doing it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou are a pain in the ass. What is it you do again?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m in the development business. So if the people you talked to knew, in some way, that you loved them, and you shared that experience with readers, you shared love, right?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou have stretched this far past the breaking point,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t think so. And I\u2019m willing to bet that if you were able to summon the courage, that\u2019s exactly what your readers would say if you asked them.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI thought they loved the writing.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThere\u2019s lots of wordsmith\u2019s out there. I\u2019m going to repeat the question: What were you looking for?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnswer\u2019s the same. Adventure. Connection. Love.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you find it?<\/p>\n
\u201cIn a way, I suppose. I perceived it, and by your definition, experienced it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMore than that. You showed love, received love, shared love.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut I didn\u2019t hold love in my arms.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTo say you have nothing because you don\u2019t have everything seems a little selfish and small, especially coming from you: you who can love the father of a girl he abandoned for a principle; who can love an armored up tough girl trying to find fairness in a world where it\u2019s in short supply; who can find love for a drug and alcohol addled cripple who can\u2019t keep his pants above his knees, an old surfer chasing the future as if the past did not exist. I\u2019m leaving out your daughters and all the others because they are too obvious. All that love, and you want to hold it in your arms?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI want to be held.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou are a writer. You need to hold yourself. That\u2019s what we do.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cJust a second. Let me track down the attendant. I need a Coke.\u201d<\/p>\n
Of course, he never came back. The plane was full. I walked the aisle back to the bathrooms, saw people come and go out of each. I looked into first class until the attendant chased me out. I asked if a man had come up and asked her for Cokes, and she said no one had, besides me.<\/p>\n
I know he didn\u2019t get off the plane before I did. I thought once I caught a glimpse of him, but I was mistaken. But my guess is that I will bump into him again, somewhere out on the road, probably chasing butterflies.<\/p>\n
End<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
He turned sideways in the aisle to move past passengers still struggling to jam slightly too-large carry-ons into the overhead compartment. I groaned inwardly, because I knew exactly where he was going to sit.<\/p>\n
It had been a long couple of nights in San Jose. My room was right next to the bar, and synthesized music pounded incessantly on the wall above my head. It was cold and the blanket inadequate. Each night I huddled with my hands between my thighs to keep them warm.<\/p>\n
I drifted off not long after I sat down on the plane, \u2026 Read more\u2026