"Tom T___'s kid died"

My dad and I didn't communicate very regularly, so it wasn't unusual that he would have gone out of town on a trip and not let me know about it until after it had happened.

"I just got back from the funeral, it was really rough"

Wait? Tom T___... which one was he? For a moment my brain was clogged with all of the names of my father's fraternity brothers. There were so many of them, all over the country, I never quite remembered which was which. Wait.. wait... oh.. WAIT.

"Wait... what??? Tom T___? Which kid, Dad? Which one?"

Ohmygod, wait wait, I remember I remember very very well who Tom T___ is. Holyshitholyshitholyshit..

"Jeff. Jeff died."

whatwhatwhatwhatwhatwhatwhatWHATWHATWHATWHAT!?!?!?!?!?!

"Ohno, ohno, Dad? Oh no, he died? What!?! How? when?"


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Yes, I knew very well who Jeff was, I did indeed.

Jeff was the guy I always thought I would have that Oprah moment with. My first crush from when I was little. The one I would watch grow up in Christmas pictures sent to my house every year after we moved away.

What did I say to him before we moved away? This strawberry blond kid who I would chuck weeble wobbles with across the parquet floor of his basement. Those fuckers never did fall down. And we tried. The one I would see every year when he would come to Judo tournaments in St. Louis. This ballsy real-live kid who I thought was every bit as cute as Shawn Cassidy. Jesus, I really really liked him. What did I say?

"I like you."

It was right before I moved to New Jersey.. I knew I wouldn't have a chance again to see him for a long time. No more Judo tournaments, no more hanging out on the bean bag chair at his parents in Chicago. I knew I liked him though, my first real crush.. I must have been like.. how old are you in 3rd grade? Anyway, I told him to his face.

"I like you"

He said, "I know"

And that was that.


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


"He was electrocuted on the El tracks"

Jesus christ. WHAT?! Jesus.. His mother worked for the Chicago Tribune. I knew if I looked hard enough, I would find some sort of obituary. Something.. That kind of shit doesn't go un-written about.

Man found dangling from the El Tracks, apparent electrocution.

"Man" he was a man now.. or was. Little ballsey Jeff. The article said he mother mentioned him often taking part in "risk taking behaviors". Yeah that's not a hard stretch of the imagination. He apparently walked home on the tracks all the time.

Fucking dumb-ass. Jesus fucking dumb-ass christ. Sigh..

The next time I saw Jeff, he was drunk on homemade beer. We were both in high school. I was a raging alterna-teen and he was a partying midwestern football player looking at colleges on the east coast. I was somewhat disappointed that he hadn't grown into my ultimate soul mate. I was pretty straight edge at the time and thought he was incredibly pathetic being drunk at an adult party with all of our parents present.

But somehow I knew destiny awaited that night. Oh yes.

When I was getting ready to go to this adult party, I listened to Sign o' the Times and thought to myself, "Tonight's the night Jeffy-boy, tonight's the night."

When I had come back from going to the bathroom, the lights had been turned off and he was sitting on the couch.

"Did I turn off the lights when I left the room? Weren't you sitting on the floor?"

"Huh? Oh, I uh.. I dunno"

Ah.. smooooth.. but I played along. Eeeek! This show is so scary! I must snuggle closer and ever closer to your um.. pretty damn attractive football guy body..

I'm not exactly sure how it all began (is anyone during those first moments?) but soon he was ontop of me, sort of sucking on my chin with a Guns n' Roses video playing in the background.

He was the second boy I ever kissed. He was the first that knew what to do with my nether regions.

I'm not sure, but I think he was planning on fucking me that night. I told him "I'm not having sex with you, so you can forget that right away." He didn't really seem interested in my reciprocating his kind use of my clit, so we continued to make out and then I went up to bed very very late.

At some point that night, he told me things about his family. Why he got drunk that night, how pissed he was at his parents. Maybe the pre-cursors to why he was such a risk-taker. I don't know. I actually really liked talking to him. We had a history, after all. There weren't many people in the world I could say that about. I moved so much.

I treated him like shit the next morning. Our fucking PARENTS were there. I never really forgave myself for not hugging and kissing him goodbye. I fucking ignored him. I was a real bitch. I barely looked at him. I promised myself, "The next time I see him, I'll tell him I'm sorry for being such a bitch."

And that was that.


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


"So, wait? When did he die? The funeral is over? Dad, JESUS CHRIST why didn' t you tell me.. Fuck, dad.."

"It happened so fast, I just flew out and back, I... I didn't think..."

He didn't think that I had a connection with him after all these years. That I had imagined all these years that we would meet again. Maybe even be destined.. like a modern Heathcliff and Cathy.

I dunno. I didn't really think that I guess. But I liked knowing he was out there. One of the first people I met on this earth, my first crush, my second kiss. I liked knowing he was existing in parallel out in the mid-west somewhere. Maybe I would get to see him grow old in Christmas pictures.

"Oh shit, Dad, I would have really like to have gone.. I really would have.. I wish I had known."


When I got to the airport, sitting in the rental car shuttle, I could see the clouds forming in the sky. A real fucking hard-core midwestern thunderstorm was just about to break out.

I had checked the map, but frankly, in all the rain, I could barely see ten feet ahead of me. Shit. Shit. I think I fucking just drove into Indiana. Shit..

I had to turn around several times, but the rain cleared just as I pulled into the town. Supposedly I had been to this town many many times, but frankly, nothing looked particularly familiar. Oh wait... maybe.. maybe that looked the same.. maybe.. I could have been making it up to feel more connected, I really don't know.

The sun had come out with just as much force as the rain had, and what ever water was left inbetween the transition had turned the air heavy and lush. There was 'god sky' everywhere. That's the phrase I use to describe it when there are huge tangible sunbeams all over the place. Major godsky. Some of the beams were making it to the ground. Pretty damn fitting.

I found a florist in the town and asked them if they knew where the town cemetery was. My dad had only told me that Jeff had been buried in the town cemetery, and I hadn't thought that there might be more than one. I got lucky and the florist was able to give me directions.

I bought one flower. One big honking teddy-bear sunflower. I can't explain it, but it seemed fitting for a guy who was 6'4'' with a shock of blond-red hair. It reminded me of the sun outside. It definitely reminded me of the kid I knew.

One doesn't think about these things, or at least I hadn't, but when someone dies young, or suddenly and there's a burial soon after, apparently, you can't rush the tombstone. I had only been to funerals of older people who had had their plots and stones all picked out and ready. As I wandered around the graveyard, it became even more clear, no one had been ready for this.

I spent the afternoon, sweating and talking to myself, looking for a fresh grave that could fit a 6'4'' football player in it.

Pretty fucked up. Or morbid. And pretty damn frustrating.

It was a big place, but I found him.

Their were so many flowers on top of the grave, you could barely see the fresh earth underneath. The flowers were still fresh, some of them barely wilted at all. Oh right, the funeral had only been a week and a half ago.

Yeah, this is it.. this is him.

I stood there for awhile, taking in the fact that the very same guy who's teenage beard rubbed my face raw, was now right below my feet. Six feet under. Shit, that phrase had new meaning.

For fuck's sake, Jeff, you're fucking dead. Jesus christ. What were you fucking THINKING? ugh..

I felt stupid, standing there, crying a little, for someone, that, technically, I barely knew.

I shoved the flower's thick stem into the ground at the top of the grave. A makeshift gravestone, blazing yellow against the funeral flowers that had begun to turn brown. There would be a little extra time now, before all the flowers would be dead and gone.

"Dude, I'm so so so sorry I was such a bitch to you after that night. I hope you knew I was just freaked out. I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I'm really sorry.."

I said it out loud, weeping.

I'm sure he probably wouldn't even have remembered. But I did.

And that was that.

Ok, so, this is just a general thing that I feel the need to discuss.

So, have you ever been sort of blissfully *maybe* semi-aggressively persuing an individual (what me? aggressively persuing someone? NO!), for the love or even for the friend (for chrissakes, EVEN FOR THE FRIEND) and then they do (or perhaps even wear) something that doesn't JIBE with your fantasmagorical imaginings about them?

And you suddenly feel panic described by the following inner thoughts:

HOLY SHIT, WHAT HAVE I DONE WITH THIS AGGRESSIVE PERSUIT, I'VE BEEN WRONG, SO WRONG!

CONTROL-Z! CONTROL-Z!

UNDO! UNDO!

I WAS JUST KIDDING! I DON'T WANT TO TAKE YOU INTO THE BACK ROOM AND DO AWFUL AWFUL DIRTY THINGS TO YOU.

I...... WAS..... JUST..... KIDDING...

ABORT THE MISSION! ABORT!

Ever have that happen?

Even if it's only for a brief panicked moment, and the person goes back to being the dreamy dream boat they have been inside your head all these days.

It's very jarring.

It takes quite awhile to get over the adrenaline rush it produces. Very unpleasant. Ramps up the irritable bowel for a spell. Not good.

CONTROL-Z, PEOPLE, control-z.