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Thursday, October 27, 2011

"Speak to me, God."

"I laughed so hard I thought I'd die," a poem I read as a kid from the Hodgepodge Book. This poem makes  me laugh every time I think of it. However, it has real meaning.

In the Summer of '85, I was a young teen with ideas and dreams.  Most of my days were spent dreaming of a way to get away.  I lived in Hawk Springs, Wyoming, a small rural town with nothing to do, except dream.  At the time there were a few other kids my age living in town.  There was Steve from up the street and Tom who lived in the next house over.  We were not the best of friends, but we sometimes would hang out.  We might head over the junkyard or over to turtle pond.  Most of our days were spent thinking about getting away.  The year before, we took our bikes and rode until we reached the next town over.  That was an accomplishment, it was almost fifteen miles away.  When we got there we went over to Gary's house, Gary was one of our classmates.  We then talked about going further to the next town over from there, Torrington. We never did finish that feat. However, in '85, we seemed to go in different directions, Steve was more interested in hanging out with an older guy named Larry. Tom was busy mowing the lawns, and I was left with either hanging with my grandfather, who was living in the trailer behind the house, or hanging with my brothers. Neither one of those options suited me. I was then beckoned to hang with the older neighbor.  At the beginning of the Summer, the neighbor would entice us to hang with him.  He would drive us to Torrington, to hang out with some of our classmates that lived there.  We'd need to come up with money to pay for the gas.  The neighbor would always want to go to town, but had no money. He'd always provide the transportation if we had the money.

August 1st, "I did die."

That afternoon, the older neighbor came over to my house.  He was wanting to go into Torrington.  He said we could go to the drive-in and hang out with some of my friends.  I enjoyed hanging out and having a good time.  I didn't have enough money, so he suggested to check with Steve and Tom.  I made my way over to Steve's and found he was leaving with Larry to go to the Bluffs and Tom was out mowing the front yard of his Uncle's house and said he was told not to hang out with Pete anymore.  That was the deal breaker.  I then went over to grandpa's and he had given me ten dollars.

Leaving a few hours later, we'd talked about what we going to do that evening, planning on cruising main and heading over to the drive-in.  All the excitement of what the evening might bring, resolved the fear that I had in the back of my mind.  I didn't like going to Torrington without Steve and Tom, but Pete reassured me that everything was going to be fun. Once we arrived in town, we drove up and down main street, searching out people we might know.  Pulling into the Mini Mart, he stopped to talk to a man in a white Impala.  The man had blond long hair and seemed to know Pete quite well.  He motioned to me that we were going to cruise around with him for a bit.  I made my way to the back seat, which was upholstered in red leather.  The fuzzy white dice hung over the rear view mirror, which swung back and forth with each turn.  After riding around for a bit we made it to the top of the hill over looking Torrington.  I could see the swimming pool and the houses which lit up the area.  I gazed over the row of lights and could see Dj's house.  We had hung out with her the time before and I longed for that day to return.  I wanted to walk on down to her house and call home so my mom could come get me.  I thought for a bit, and asked myself, what would she say, I was going to the show, and I was not there.  The man in the Impala returned us back to the car.  The car was an 1959 Oldsmobile, with different colored panels and missing the hood of the engine.  I climbed back in the car, it was getting late.  I laid down on the torn seats and closed my eyes.  When I woke again, it was raining.  The downpour stalled the motor of the car.  I asked him to take me home, he insisted that once the rain stops that we will head back to Hawk Springs.  He finally got the motor started and he kept on driving around.  We passed Dj's house again and went passed the ball park.  I kept thinking that I should get out and walk to her house. I closed my eyes again.

Some weeks later I woke in the hospital.  My mom and dad were sitting in the room, watching and waiting for me to wake.  I could feel the painful catheter inside my bladder.  The halo around my head was screwed into my skull with four large bolts, the doctor said that I had broke my neck and referred to it as the hangman's break.  I could not believe where I was, tied to a bed with all my junk showing.  I was told that I was in an accident.  The '59 Olds' top had been sheered from the automobile, the motor had been savagely smashed into the passanger side.  I had been slumped under the motor and the dash.  Shards of glass shattered and embedded on to the seat and into my flesh. I still have shards working their way out of my body, at times.  When Winter rolls around I can still feel the pain shoot through my neck and body.

Pete was arrested but nothing really ever happened to him.  The neighbors, never came up to visit me in the hospital and always blamed me for the accident.  I was not the one driving, and I certainly was not the one who decided to drink.  If only I would have listened to the voice in my head.

Maybe god spoke to me?

I always ask God, why didn't you take me that night?

The ongoing poem continues, "and they buried me."

Update:  Pete was again caught drunk driving in Torrington, WY.  He had no license to drive and only received three months in county jail. WTF

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