“Yeah, I get that,” I told him. “I feel badly that people have lost things they've worked their whole lives to obtain, but that's life. History is full of examples of both hardships and successes, so people shouldn't be so surprised.”
“True,” my dad said, “but it's different. In the past people were more self-efficient; they could live off the land. Losing your livelihood today is devastating because people are so dependent on societal constructs. They don't know how to provide for themselves anymore.”
My mother was nodding in agreement. “As our society has moved towards a technology-based structure, they've lost touch with the land. More and more people are starting to realize that the system they depend upon is inherently flawed and extremely vulnerable. This terrifies them.”
“If any part of our infrastructure were to fail, there would be disruptions in more than just technology. It would affect the food chain, causing shortages and famine. We'd have issues trying to control the population if they felt like their ability to survive was threatened.”
“That's why there are all these doom's day preppers,” Carolina said.
Our dad added, “No matter what people are afraid of, their fear is deeply seeded. It doesn't really matter how their anticipated catastrophe manifests itself either. It doesn't matter if it's a zombie apocalypse, a pandemic, a disruption in the power grids, or an invasion of some sort, people are fundamentally afraid of starving.”
“So you're saying that the woman who went crazy and shot up a daycare did it because she was afraid of starving?” I surmised. “That doesn't seem right.”
“Yeah,” Rae concurred. “I think I'm going with Georgia on this one; my vote is that the woman is just crazy.”
“It's like I always tell you girls, desperation makes people do unexpected things,” my dad reiterated one of his fundamental lessons. “Humans are animals and like any other animal, if a person feels cornered or threatened then you can bet their going to lash out. Their fear will make them aggressive and their helplessness will make them do whatever they feel is necessary for their survival or the survival of those they love.”
“You've heard the saying 'desperate times call for desperate measures,' right?” my mother offered. “It's the same concept.”
“So the lady felt like her situation was desperate enough that she felt aggressive,” I concluded. “Her response was out of her helplessness.”
“Yes,” my dad cheered as both he and my mom smiled at me with approval.
“Why didn't she just ask for help?” Rae wondered.
“It's not that simple sometimes. She probably did ask for help, but then realized all of her resources had been exhausted,” Georgia replied. “She probably felt like she had nothing left to lose.”
“That's terrible,” I responded.
“There was probably some substance abuse involved too,” Chris said. “It's not uncommon for people to try to self-sooth by drowning their sorrows in alcohol or relaxing by smoking a joint.”
“That's true,” my mom agreed. “John, didn't they say something about the toxicology report coming back with barbiturates or something?”
“Yes, but apparently she had a paradoxical effect where the drug caused a reaction opposite of what was intended.”
“So instead of calming her down, it juiced her up?” Rae asked. “Weird.”
“You usually only see that in children,” I commented.
My dad was nodding at us. “Correct, but for some reason, the drugs she took put her into a state of extreme agitation instead of sedating her.”
“That's so sad,” Carolina said. “I feel so bad for the people involved.”
“What happened to her children?” I wanted to know.
“They were taken by social services,” Georgia informed me.
“I hope I don't ever get that desperate,” I stated with trepidation. “I wouldn't want to be responsible for hurting someone because I lost all hope. That's just… awful.”
“Good lesson for staying away from drugs too,” Rae interjected.
“Yeah, I couldn't imagine get all fucked up on some random drug, losing all my sensibilities and control, then murdering a bunch of people,” Georgia said.
“Right! What would it be like when the drugs wore off?” I wondered. “Would you remember what you did?”
“I think we should change the subject,” Carolina suggested, much to my relief.
I was very close to tears, feeling overwhelmed by the whole conversation. Being a history buff, I knew history was colored with plagues, wars, and starvation. Many powerful civilizations had crumbled and most fell because they over-used their natural resources. I could see that on a worldwide scale and that was terrifying.
I didn't want to see the sinister side of humanity nor the destruction of it. I feared the darkness that threatened to overtake our world. I didn't want anything to fail or anyone starve. I just wanted to listen to the birds, watch the trees sway in the breeze, and fish in peace. I wanted the whole world to just calm the fuck down!
Thankfully, we were able to move onto more pleasant conversations and the rest of the day passed easily. We had a bountiful catch, so we spent the afternoon cleaning and filleting the fish we pulled in. Mom pan fried the fillets over the fire pit with lemon grass and wild onion. She served the meal with homemade potato salad she'd prepared the night before with the intent to bring it for us to eat. I always loved my mom's potato salad, so I was very happy.
Evening found us sitting around the campfire telling stories, singing silly songs, and telling jokes. It was a nice way to recover from the intense conversation that had transpired earlier in the day. The evening of laughter quickly erased the tension from my body and the fear from my mind. The world was as it should be and I was lost in my bliss.
That night, the sleeping arrangement only changed slightly. My parents slept on the futon instead of Rae. This displaced her so she crawled into bed with Chris and me. We had plenty of room and once my head hit the pillows, I was out. Fresh air often had that effect on me, but when I coupled that with the closeness of my two best friends, I felt secure and that allowed me to sleep peacefully.
David met us at the Rustic Inn for breakfast as planned. The town of Stacy sat on the east side of Interstate 35, so it was a convenient meeting location. Though we had a lovely breakfast, my spirit grew heavier as each moment took me to my inevitable good-bye.
“I'm going to miss you,” I whispered as a tear slid down my face. Chris gently brushed the tear away, replacing it with a kiss.
“We may not be together, but we'll never be a part,” Chris replied before he kissed me sweetly.
I knew somewhere inside that I ought to have felt exposed and uncomfortable sharing a tender moment with Chris while our families watched, but I didn't. Somehow, the world didn't matter when Chris held me close; all that mattered was us. As he enveloped me in his welcomed embrace, his presence filled me with peace.
After a moment, Chris kissed the top of my head then drew back from me, touching my cheek lightly with his fingertips until we were too far apart for him to reach. “I'll text you whenever I can.”
I nodded sadly; his absent touch already a painful void. Why didn't it feel like this every time we parted? I realized that it was my state of mind that created the illusion of separation, so I tried to combat its hold. I tried to stay positive and embrace the excitement for the adventure this trip always was for Chris and his father.
“Have a great time,” I said, putting on my brave face. “I'll be here when you get back home.”
Chris smiled at me with both friendship and affection. “Love you,” he said as he waved good-bye.
I returned his meaningful smile then he climbed into his dad's truck as I answered back, “Love you, too.” Then he was gone.
Chapter Eight
With Chris out of town and school on summer break, I spent my days working part-time at the local Y.M.C.A. and my nights mostly with Rae. I spent many hours tending to t
he garden with my mom and Carolina or just sitting in the sunshine reading. I was happy that the time was going faster than I had expected because I missed Chris.
Every other day I would collect the mail from both the auto body shop and Chris's house. I took a quick glance through all the deliveries and if anything looked urgent or pressing, I'd set it aside to ask David what he wanted me to do with it. It felt good that David trusted me with both his personal and professional business.
Whenever Chris was able, he would call me, but that proved to be difficult. The reception was poor along the border, but I was happy with whatever I got. Mostly, we were able to text. It was easier to get a text message or even a picture mail sent than to maintain a call. More of our calls dropped than messages failed to send.
I was grateful for the advent of texting and picture mail; something I knew wasn't available when I was younger, but something I couldn't remember going without. It made me think about what my parents had said; how society's so dependent on technology. I shuttered to think what this separation from Chris would have been like had we not had the ability to at least text.
I had a new respect for the people in the past, holding them at a higher level of esteem. I couldn't imagine how difficult it would be to have a loved one traveling, especially a long distance and not be able to see how they were doing. It must have been a daunting experience riddled with stress to have someone sail away and not know for months or years as to their whereabouts or state of wellbeing. I didn't think people would handle losing mass communications very well in today's world; we were a pampered civilization for sure.
My separation from Chris and the challenges we faced in trying to remain in contact with one another gave me a new understanding of my sister's plight as well. I had a deeper understanding for the things Carolina endured being a part of Roger and a reverence for the gracious way she handled it all. I began to see my sister with different eyes.
When I thought about their separation, especially the fact that Roger was in a combat zone and not just on a fishing trip, I felt silly for being sad. I felt guilty that I hadn't realized my sister's situation before, but Carolina and Roger just made it look so easy. I knew it wasn't, but now, I had more comprehension of just how hard it must really be for them both. Their incredible sacrifice made my situation seem insignificant and I felt very immature for pouting or pining over Chris.
The old adage that “looks can be deceiving” was starting to take on new meaning for me as well. There were little things in life that I hadn't noticed before, but for whatever reason, they were becoming more pronounced. I wasn't sure what was changing, but then I decided it wasn't what, but who was changing that mattered. It was me; I was the one changing. Maybe this was what growing up was about?
Perhaps growing up meant more than just getting a full-time job and paying the bills? I knew it did, but it's so easy to overlook the subtle aspects of adulthood. Some adults, but especially children, often missed the little sacrifices and self-less acts that accompany maturity. True love was a gift because it meant you were willing to love someone more than yourself.
My mom had always been a huge advocate for crafts that taught us useful skills. I'd grown up taking various classes either with my mom, my sisters, or by myself, so it only seemed natural that I pursued this as my summer job. Therefore, I accepted a position teaching basket weaving three times a week.
Carolina was way more talented than I was when it came to weaving. Her nimble fingers worked intricate patterns with ease while I practiced long hours to acquire just a fraction of her skill. Our mother always smiled approvingly whenever she'd find us utilizing our crafting abilities, especially if they were manifested in some kind of practical way. I think that was encouragement enough to make me continue my pursuits, despite feeling inadequate compared to Carolina.
Georgia had officially graduated from the University with her Bachelor's Degree. Unfortunately, her credits weren't awarded until after the spring ceremony, so she'd have to wait until fall to participate in her graduation. In the meantime, she was working extended hours with the construction crew she worked on. She was happy to be packing so much money into the bank, but I knew she was tired. The pace in which she lived her life simple awed me. I had no idea where all her energy came from!
Carolina decided not to take courses through the summer at Augsburg College. Instead, she volunteered full-time at Northrop Urban Environmental Learning Center as one of the summer program teachers. Though Northrop was actually an elementary school, they offered community programs for kids whether they attended the school or not. It was a perfect fit for Carolina and she loved every minute of it.
Rae usually helped her mother, Jenny run her in-home daycare whenever school was on break, but this summer Rae had reached her limit. She told her mom she would help when she could, but she was getting a regular job. She got hired at the Caribou Coffee located on the third floor in the Mall of America. She was jazzed to be in the mall with all the people and activities, but more so, she was thankful not to have to work with children.
Summer progressed and finally Chris returned from the Boundary Waters. He had a gorgeous bronze tan and sun-bleached highlights through his dark brown hair. I couldn't get enough of looking at him because he just looked so healthy and refreshed. He radiated joy and calm, drawing me to him just for the pleasure of sharing his mood.
“I missed you so much,” Chris told me, crushing me in a heartfelt embrace.
“As you've told me several times since you got back,” I laughed happily. “I missed you too, but it's been a week now, so it's okay to stop saying it.”
Though he kept his arm wrapped around me, Chris released me so we could walk into the mall together. Rae was about to get off work and we were meeting up with her to grab dinner and see a movie. It was a rare treat for a Saturday night and I was tickled pink.
“I can't believe your dad didn't take you up north this weekend,” Chris told me.
“Right,” I answered. “I think my mom told him to let us spend some time together.”
“Oh,” Chris smiled. “See, they like me.”
“No,” I corrected. “They love you.”
Chris laughed and then kissed the side of my head. “Of course they do. Everybody loves me; I'm a delight!”
I rolled my eyes at him, but I couldn't suppress my mirth. I laughed at him, which only encouraged him more. He started greeting people as we passed them in the mall, telling them he how he was a joy to know and that people loved him. Though it entertained me, it also embarrassed me; my reaction just made Chris laugh more.
When I returned to school in the fall, I was pleased with my status as a senior. I was thrilled to be in my last year of high school, but I knew my senior experience was vastly different from my fellow students. In many ways, I was already beyond graduation.
Thanks to the post-secondary enrollment option program offered by the Minneapolis Public School system, I had begun taking college courses at the start of my junior year. I was continuing to participate in that program, so I lived in an interim state of existence. I wasn't truly a high school student nor was I a real college student yet.
I took two classes at the high school, had two online courses, and physically attended another class on the University campus. It was an interesting blend that allowed me to participate in the normal high school activities, such as homecoming and prom, while taking the first step into the next chapter of my life. I considered myself to be very fortunate and I worked hard to maintain the privilege.
Though I was considered a student at Roosevelt Senior High School, I only attended there for choir and math, both of which I shared with Rae. My online courses were through the University of Minnesota's twin cities location. They included a literature course and psychology. Lastly, I took an American Sign Language course on campus, satisfying my foreign language requirements. This was not a course I wanted to take online.
Just like Georgia, I would be graduating early, but I'
d have to wait until the end of the school year to actually have my graduation ceremony. I didn't mind because I planned to continue taking classes all the way through spring semester. I'd be stupid not too since the program I was in paid for the courses until the end of my official academic year.
Rae was also enrolled in the post-secondary enrollment option program so she was in the same boat as I was, though she took different classes than I did. She preferred not to take any courses online because she liked the student life and atmosphere attending real classes afforded her. Her flexible personality made her fit in no matter where she went and her easy nature made her very popular socially.
I was well-liked, but I wasn't popular. I didn't prefer crowds or parties, choosing a quiet night with an intimate group of friends any day. Rae was cool whether she was alone or in a mass of thousands. She just had a thirst for adventure and a love of life that was enchanting. I admired her spirit and thanked God every day that she was my best friend. I never could figure out why she liked my boring ass so much, but I was glad she did!
“How do you like your classes at Inver Hills?” I asked Chris.
“I like them,” he told me. 'So far, anyway.”
Chris was enrolled part-time at the community college in Inver Grove Heights. He was working full-time at his dad's shop. David was trying to groom him for taking over control of the company, but Chris was reluctant. When he'd told his father during their fishing trip that he wasn't sure if he wanted his business, David was hurt. Now that he had time to think it through, David seemed to be his normal supportive self again.
“How are things with your dad?” I wondered. I wasn't sure if it was smart to ask about the touchy subject, but Chris didn't seem to mind my intrusion. Besides, his future plans would affect me as much as him since we were planning to be together.
“Better, actually. Thanks for asking.” He smiled at me sincerely. There were no signs of mocking or sarcasm in his demeanor.
“Thanks for answering,” I told him, honestly thankful for his candor.
A Ripple of Fear (Fear of Dakota #1) Page 13