by Maia Walczak
‘So, what, are you saying we shouldn’t try to change the world? We should just sit back, relax, and let all that shit happen?’
‘No. I’m just pointing out that until we address the root of it all, none of it will change, not in the long run,’ he paused, and then laughed, ‘though I do think that if we were capable of sitting back and relaxing a bit more the world would be a better place.’
‘Sounds to me like you’re a Buddhist.’
He laughed. ‘No. Not all. I’m definitely not a Buddhist. I don’t have any philosophical beliefs or ideologies.’
I didn’t say anything. For a few moments we just carried on walking and drinking our coffees in silence.
‘You know, you don’t need beliefs to realise that the mere fact there is something called existence in the first place is ridiculous,’ he said, interrupting the silence. ‘It’s mind-blowing. It’s crazy. And yet we don’t see that.’
‘Well, no, I disagree; I think sometimes we do. People wonder about why we’re here and what the world is and how the universe came to be. I mean that’s where science and religion come from in the first place.’
‘Sure. Some of us get moments of pondering and wondering. But fundamentally, on a daily basis, we don’t see or feel it. You know, the thing about the miracle of existence is that if and when people stop to ponder it they think of it as something happening in the past, either the Big Bang or God creating the world, or whatever, depending on their belief systems. And they’re like, “Yeah, it’s amazing that it happened, but so what? What’s it got to do with me? It happened ages ago, and currently I have more pressing things to think about.” But it’s not got anything to do with what happened back then, if it happened, why it happened or how it happened. It’s this, what’s happening now. It’s what’s sustaining it. This is the miracle. That this is happening right now is not the product of a miracle that happened at the beginning of time. It is the miracle happening right now. It’s crazy. It’s beautiful. And when you suddenly see it, it’s like woah, how could I not have? There are no words.’
‘And you’re sure you’re not on something?’
We both laughed.
‘No. Totally sure. I mean unless there’s something in this coffee.’
‘Well, would you mind swapping with me? I want some of whatever it is you have in there.’
I couldn’t believe I was engaging like this with someone. God, it felt good.
‘But you know, the thing is,’ he continued, ‘I also realised that all my angst, all my turmoil and anger, all my suffering over the suffering of others and the destruction of the planet, was redundant. It was never going to solve a thing. In fact, by feeling that way, I was actually just throwing out more suffering into the world. It was just another symptom of the madness. So, in a way, what happened actually helped me with my work, because I had a clearer head. I felt as though I could do all the things I’d used to do but without all the rage and negativity inside me. I seemed to get more done.’
‘And all your anger and frustration, it just suddenly dropped away? With no conscious effort on your part?’
‘Yes. Pretty much. But it did really shake stuff up for me. It made me rethink a lot of things. At first it kind of seemed to bring tension into my friendship with Adam. We’d been through a lot of stuff together and we’d understood each other so well on that level. But the thing about him is he had a bit of a past that I only much later found out about, of dabbling in all sorts of stuff, including eastern philosophy, psychedelic drugs, meditation, stuff like that.’
‘All that hippy shit stuff, right?’ I said, smirking. He laughed. ‘Hey, I’m just using your words,’ I said.
‘Sure you are. And obviously you’re totally judging me on all this.’
‘Sure I am, you fucking hippy. So anyway, what happened to Adam?’
‘Well, luckily his adventures have made it easier for him to finally understand some of the stuff I talk about. At the beginning though, he used to try to get into a lot of arguments with me about it. It was kind of tough because at the time he was really one of the only people I felt I could share all this with. But after a while, and in his own way, he seemed to come to terms with a lot of the stuff I’d told him. With a combination of yoga, surfing and living the simple California life, he mellowed out.’
He smiled, and I smiled back.
‘Anyway, what happened on that beach that time was powerful. It was life changing. It’s been with me ever since, except now it’s just a memory, a very powerful one of course, I mean sometimes I get glimpses, but I’m very much a human being trapped in this world called my life story again, you know, albeit with a hell of a lot more perspective.’
‘Yeah,’ I said, and before I could stop myself, ‘I know something about feeling trapped in a life story.’
God Silvia, no.
I could sense him looking right at me, perhaps even raising an eyebrow. He was clearly about to say something, but I managed to get there first.
‘Oh my gosh,’ I cast a quick blind glance at my watch, ‘I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise that was the time!’ I racked my brain for the next part of the lie, ‘I have to be back home in half an hour.’ Bullshit, there was no way I’d make it back in half an hour. He knew that. ‘I… I have someone coming round… for a session… in an hour.’
This lie, it was appalling, but it saved me.
I felt guilty. He’d just opened up to me. We weren’t finished, we just weren’t finished, damn it! But if I stayed any longer…
God! What was happening? Why had I even gone this far with Jack, and why did I want to continue? Here I was, dismissing it all so suddenly with a goddamned shit lie. It felt terrible.
‘I’m sorry for taking up your time,’ he said. It sounded more like a question than a statement.
‘No no. I’m sorry. How stupid of me,’ I didn’t dare look him in the eyes. I was far too embarrassed. ‘I feel awful. I’m really sorry. I was really enjoying your company,’ I blurted out and then felt even more embarrassed.
‘Likewise. I don’t usually talk about the stuff I just talked about with you… so sorry if I went off on one,’ he said.
Shit, now I felt really guilty.
‘Fuck, no Jack. It was all so fascinating.’ I meant it, I really meant it. God only knew I wished we could have carried on.
We stood there for a few more seconds in idiotic silence. I looked around trying to get my bearings. Which way was best to run?
‘Well I think I’ll just carry on walking,’ he said, ‘I won’t keep you any longer for now.’
For now?
‘Thanks Jack. Enjoy your walk. Goodbye.’
I turned round, and, without looking back, I ran.
That Smile
The thing about the mind is that it has a life of its own. And mine had developed a habit of thinking about Jack. I knew I had already gone too far with him, but even so – or perhaps because of it – I found myself fantasising about hypothetical conversations with him.
I was on my way to meet Polly, my dealer, and more than anything I wished I could have just sat down with her and asked for her opinion. You know, like they do in the movies. People have heart-to-hearts in the movies. People share secrets, open up. I wanted to tell her about Jack.
‘How’s school, Polly?’ I asked, after we’d greeted each other in the abandoned parking lot – our usual meeting place. She smelled different today, like perfume. The smell was subtle, but it was totally unlike her, so it hit me.
‘Ah, y’know, okay, I guess.’
‘Almost the end now, isn’t it?’
‘Mmm yeah.’
She was smiling. A kind of shy but super excited grin. It looked like she was using every muscle of her face to try and hold it in. Even I knew what that grin meant. ‘Have you met a boy Polly?’ I smiled at her.
She half frowned, but then immediately forgave my mistake and was beaming again.
‘A girl, actually,’ she said.
‘Oh
sorry. My bad.’
‘Yeah, she’s rad. Really rad. I mean, it’s like only the beginning and stuff…’
Yes, it’s always exciting at the beginning, isn’t it? I thought. ‘Ah, but still… that’s exciting!’ I said.
‘Mmm, yeah,’ she nodded, trying so hard to contain that smile.
She handed me the carefully-prepared bag of weed, with my name handwritten on it in her pretty handwriting. I handed her the cash. She was still nodding. She was always quite highly sprung, but this time I could tell it was induced more by circumstance than by chemicals.
‘We’re thinking of going away together for the summer,’ she said.
‘Oh, nice! What’s her name?’ I wondered where I would score my weed if Polly disappeared all summer.
‘Olivia.’
As she said this, Polly looked deep into my eyes with a piercing excited gaze that told me she was desperate to carry on talking about Olivia.
Who was I to give relationship advice? Unlike most other people I dealt with, though, Polly was one person I didn’t feel too nervous about engaging in a bit of conversation. I didn’t see her too often so I felt it was totally okay to lie to her if I had to. But who’d have thought we’d wind up sitting in a concealed corner of the lot, our backs perched against a wall and our butts pressing into the gravelly ground, sharing a joint?
After what seemed like an hour discussing Olivia, Polly’s previous relationships, what it meant to be a good girlfriend and, above all, sex, I had somehow managed to steer the conversation onto Jack. I don’t know how. I shrugged off The Fear. Fuck it Silvia, it’s only Polly, I told myself. I felt so relaxed. I didn’t reveal much about myself of course; I was still sober enough to not make that mistake. But I found myself coming towards the end of a delirious – yet hushed, always hushed – babble about Jack’s epiphany and the strange sense of calm he’d made me feel the first day I’d met him. I didn’t tell her, of course, that I had no intention of seeing him again.
‘So, what’s holding you back?’ Polly said.
‘What d’you mean?’
‘Well, have you fucked him yet?’
‘God no. I mean, no Polly, I don’t want to do that.’
Polly laughed. She laughed real hard.
‘What?’
‘Bullshit. Why the fuck are you talking about him then, if he’s not someone you wanna screw?’
‘No. Well that’s the thing. It’s not like that. I can’t stop thinking about him but it’s really not like that. If it was I would have fucked him already.’
We burst out laughing, but I felt bad for doing it. I didn’t like the idea of ‘fucking’ Jack. He wasn’t someone you just ‘fucked’. I had too much… of something for him. I don’t know what. Admiration, respect, perhaps.
‘Look Silvia, you’re hot. You should just fuck him.’
I was high, so high, as I walked home. I was flattered that dear seventeen-year-old Polly thought I was hot. My highness meant the absence of all my sadness and I loved it. Oh god bless you weed! I could have kissed the world right then!
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and scrolled to Jack’s number.
But I didn’t call him. Not that time.
The Perfect Excuse
It was another one of those freak days today: Arthur in the afternoon, Max in the evening. I’d seen Arthur earlier that week already – he’d received some negative feedback from one of his art tutors and had been in a foul mood, so to be frank, I was really not looking forward to seeing him again.
I had become very immersed in my art lately, and had managed to wean myself off constant thoughts about Jack. And, although I wasn’t much looking forward to Arthur, I found myself looking forward to Max. I felt the need for some mindless sex today. All the things I’d started to hate about Max – today I craved them again. And, no doubt, I would have them.
At around noon, as I was cutting carrots into chunks to make a soup, my phone rang. Arthur.
‘Morning Silvia.’
‘Morning,’ I said, even though it wasn’t, anymore. ‘What’s up?’
He cleared his throat, ‘Sorry Silvia, I don’t feel too good today, I don’t think I can make it.’
Arthur had never cancelled before. By the sounds of it he was hungover, but I didn’t bother to pry, it wasn’t in my nature.
‘Sorry for the short notice.’
‘It’s okay.’ It was okay. After all, I didn’t really want to see him anyway. ‘Hope you get better.’
‘Thanks Silvia.’
‘Okay. Bye.’
‘Bye.’
The moment I hung up, my mind catapulted straight back to Jack. This was the perfect excuse I had been waiting for. He probably wouldn’t be free at such short notice, but that wasn’t the point – the point was to make contact.
Jack: the mysterious character that, against all my will, I was being drawn towards. He had imparted to me an inexplicable sense of possibility. But possibility of what, I didn’t know. Such feelings were dangerous. It was easy to get too comfortable, lose self-control and say too much. And yet, even as I mulled this over, my fingers were typing a text message to him. I pressed send and felt a pang of fear, followed by a sense of relief. I didn’t know which of those two feelings to trust, so instead I carried on chopping carrots.
As I switched off the blender I realised my phone was ringing. I honestly hadn’t expected him to get back to me so soon. I let it ring for a few seconds longer and then I picked up.
‘Hey,’ I said.
‘Hey. How are you? I just got your message.’
‘Oh yeah, sorry about the short notice. I just thought y’know, if you’re around and free and feeling up for it, then that’d be great, but I realise it’s a pretty big ask, so…’
‘Well, actually, I just had an interview a few blocks down from you, so I’m in the area. I was just about to head home, but… I don’t know. I mean you need someone for 2pm, is that right?’
I looked at the clock. It was 12:30 exactly.
‘Well… I mean not really. I was just about to have lunch. Have you eaten? I’ve made carrot and coriander soup.’
I honestly felt that there were two Silvias operating in me: the one who was doing all this talking, all this action, and the one who was observing her in fear, trying to scream to her no, don’t!
‘No, I haven’t eaten yet. But are you sure?’
‘Yes.’
Breaking Bread
He looked so different in a suit. Quite handsome. I didn’t usually find suits all that appealing.
So, here we were at the dining table, filling the first few moments of silence with the crunch of breaking baguette and the slurping of hot soup. He looked away to the side and out of the windows.
‘This really is such a great place you have here.’
‘Thanks,’ I said, and immediately changed the subject. ‘You know, I’ve been thinking a lot about our conversation in Balboa Park the other week.’
‘You mean my monologue?’ he laughed.
‘Yep. It was a good monologue.’
‘Oh really? I’m glad you think so. Anything in particular?’
‘Well, all of it, really. I’ve become very focused on my art since then. Maybe more than I have been in a while. I’ve been creating quite a lot of abstract pieces. When I do abstract stuff it means I’m not working with any concept, plan or formula in mind. It means I work in free flow. I guess really it’s my favourite way of working, it’s just I don’t usually give myself much time for it, because the abstracts don’t seem to sell all that well. Anyway. The point is that it’s when I do the abstracts that I most often get those moments of flow I mentioned to you. And this week has been full of that.’
I could feel my face beaming. Even just recalling those moments of flow made me happy. He was beaming right back, with a look in his eyes that told me he knew exactly what I was talking about. I felt that crazy sense of possibility take over me again, like anything was possible.
I didn
’t mention that the copious amounts of weed I’d consumed that week had definitely added to those moments of flow, of letting go, losing myself. Perhaps I could have, but what with that suit he was wearing and the official and lawyer-esque air he had about him today, I decided not to.
‘Obviously there’s parts of your experience I don’t understand,’ I said.
‘Of course. It’s not something that can be understood.’ He shook his head. ‘It’s beyond the intellect. Like I said, I don’t even understand it.’
‘Yeah. I see what you mean. But then, even if it can’t be understood, there are parts of it that… well, they resonate… y’know?’
I fell in love with the smile that appeared on his face at that moment. I would have liked to capture it and keep it in my pocket as a go-to image for the rest of my life. All I could do was take a snapshot with my mind’s eye.
Any moments of silence that followed whilst we finished lunch no longer felt so awkward. It was like an ice had been broken, and an unspoken bond had been established. It was wonderful, but there was a limit to all this, and soon our bonding would reach a plateau, because at some point the spotlight would have to turn on me and I couldn’t let that happen, could I?
*
Oh god, he was doing it again. That relaxed face. Those eyes, distant yet present. As his naked body reclined on the white sheets he seemed to be once again surrounded by an invisible aura of calm. And, just as before, it was contagious.
‘Silvia…’
‘Mmm?’
‘Do you ever paint in colour?’
Fuck. Why did I ever tell him about my colour-blindness? He wasn’t going to let it go.
‘No.’
He kept quiet after that and let me continue my work in silence.
An hour and a half later I felt I was done. Satisfied. After clothing himself he walked over to my easel, uninvited but not unwelcome, while I added the last touch to the drawing.