Chapter 23
We work our way down some back alleyways, and I feel myself being sucked further into the proverbial rabbit's hole. The streetlights are higher up-- attached to the tops of the run down buildings we pass, making the path shadowed, and the little light even more pale. I can still make out the kid's figure in front of me-- a body by the name of Brent, as I have learned on our short trek. It's all I really know about this guy-- and all I care to know. I don't want to know who he is, where he's from, or where he's taking me. I just want to blindly walk into something.
If ignorance is bliss, I'm orgasmic.
He slows down and I follow the slight turn of his body to a hole in the ground. On closer inspection I realize it's not a hole, but a darkened doorway that seems to run into the basement of a nondescript building. I follow him down the cracked steps, stumbling slightly when he stops at the bottom.
"You ever party Spencer?"
I stare at him as my mind draws a blank. What does that mean? "Party"-- does he mean drugs? Weed, coke, LSD? Booze? Or does he mean life? Is he refering to feeling truly alive? Does he want my past? Or does he want to know that I was virtually born yesterday? That my life just started a few weeks ago?
My head is a jumble, and yet I can formulate an image of how stupid I must look right now gaping at him.
He must get his answer from the look on my face because he gives me a smile and grabs my hand.
"Hang on."
He opens the door quickly, and we slip inside. I barely have time to process the loud music or the flood of people as he drags me deeper in. I feel a sudden rush as I glance the unfamiliar surroundings. It's like I've entered a whole other world-- One I barely knew existed from what I saw on television less than a year ago-- But it does-- In real life-- In flesh and blood, and I'm quickly being engulfed by it.
We go deeper, and deeper, and I feel my excitement grow.
As we emerge from the crowd I can make out a small group of people in the corner of the room. They're slumped against the wall, laying on the floor, sitting in each other's laps--
If we were in a bar-- these would be the people who had their "own" barstool.....These are the regulars.
I don't know why but I stand there dumbly watching them. For some reason I've formed some sort of admiration for them-- they look so relaxed-- happy-- free.
"Come on--"
Brent tugs at my hand, breaking me out of my reverie, and we head straight for the group. I feel myself slightly tremble in aticipation, and I force my body into a laid-back dance to cover the fact from him.
We stop in front of them, and they look up in expectation. I look back at them the same.
It's like I've been beamed onto the mothership.
"Hey guys-- How's it goin'? This is Spencer."
He raises our joined hands forcing me closer. I feel like I'm living in slow motion again as I stumble in front of them for inspection. I blink an elongated blink, waiting as if I'm awaiting my sentence-- but it never comes.
I'm not shunned-- I'm not an outcast. I'm accepted. That's never really happened to me before. It's kinda awe inspiring.....
Before I know it, I'm sitting among them-- laughing with conversations and inside jokes I don't understand. It occurs to me how strange and exhilerating this is--like deja vu that is mismatched in emotion-- like I know that this is the part where they turn and ask why I'm still there or my awkwardness takes over and I sneak away--just, in this case it never happens.
"So Spencer-- where you from?"
I look at the girl whose name I recently learned is Deanna and meet her inquisitive green eyes. I wonder if she can see it behind my own eyes-- the hot Arizona sun, the cold New York winters, the places I've been, the things I've seen...... But I know she can't-- because I can't see those things myself.
The only thing looking back at her is the blank canvas that has become me.
"Nowhere....... Everywhere."
She grins back at me.
"Yeah-- I totally get that. I jumped ship when I was fifteen-- I mean, I didn't need to put up with that sh*t, you know? Told my little sis' I would come back for her when I could, but she ended up shackin' up with some guy from Long Island-- I wasn't pissed or anything, I mean if she could get outta there on her own kudos to her, you know?"
I nod like an understanding student, and her head tilts.
"When did you skip out?"
I let my eyes wander as I percolate the answer.
"A couple weeks ago."
Her face lights in excitement.
"Oooh! A virgin! Let me give you a few words of advice-- you know that old saying, 'just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they're not after you'?-- It's true. If there's one thing you need to learn it's that *everyone* is after you-- the pigs are always out looking for a fresh runaway-- dealers want clients, pimps want employees, and if you're lucky, you have parents like mine that don't give a damn about you and won't add to the mess. There's only one person you can trust-- yourself-- and if you can't trust yourself, well, then you're f*cked, because you need to be able to sort it out-- friend and enemy, fact and fiction, fun and danger-- not to say those things don't mingle-- in fact, in my experience they almost always do..... life wouldn't be fun without it..... But you just gotta be able to know when you can use those things-- it's all about one goal Spencer....."
I feel completely entranced by this girl as I raise my voice over the booming bass.
"What's that?"
Deanna spreads a grin as she raises herself to stand. I watch her expectantly, wondering if she heard my question. She looks out over the crowd, her eyebrows peaking as she spots a familiar face in the crowd. She begins heading towards the mob. I try once more.
"De?"
She looks back at me like she'd nearly forgotten I was there, and once again her face breaks out in a broad smile. I look at her and instantly I know she heard my question--
And I know I'm not getting the answer tonight.
"Have fun Spencer."
We work our way down some back alleyways, and I feel myself being sucked further into the proverbial rabbit's hole. The streetlights are higher up-- attached to the tops of the run down buildings we pass, making the path shadowed, and the little light even more pale. I can still make out the kid's figure in front of me-- a body by the name of Brent, as I have learned on our short trek. It's all I really know about this guy-- and all I care to know. I don't want to know who he is, where he's from, or where he's taking me. I just want to blindly walk into something.
If ignorance is bliss, I'm orgasmic.
He slows down and I follow the slight turn of his body to a hole in the ground. On closer inspection I realize it's not a hole, but a darkened doorway that seems to run into the basement of a nondescript building. I follow him down the cracked steps, stumbling slightly when he stops at the bottom.
"You ever party Spencer?"
I stare at him as my mind draws a blank. What does that mean? "Party"-- does he mean drugs? Weed, coke, LSD? Booze? Or does he mean life? Is he refering to feeling truly alive? Does he want my past? Or does he want to know that I was virtually born yesterday? That my life just started a few weeks ago?
My head is a jumble, and yet I can formulate an image of how stupid I must look right now gaping at him.
He must get his answer from the look on my face because he gives me a smile and grabs my hand.
"Hang on."
He opens the door quickly, and we slip inside. I barely have time to process the loud music or the flood of people as he drags me deeper in. I feel a sudden rush as I glance the unfamiliar surroundings. It's like I've entered a whole other world-- One I barely knew existed from what I saw on television less than a year ago-- But it does-- In real life-- In flesh and blood, and I'm quickly being engulfed by it.
We go deeper, and deeper, and I feel my excitement grow.
As we emerge from the crowd I can make out a small group of people in the corner of the room. They're slumped against the wall, laying on the floor, sitting in each other's laps--
If we were in a bar-- these would be the people who had their "own" barstool.....These are the regulars.
I don't know why but I stand there dumbly watching them. For some reason I've formed some sort of admiration for them-- they look so relaxed-- happy-- free.
"Come on--"
Brent tugs at my hand, breaking me out of my reverie, and we head straight for the group. I feel myself slightly tremble in aticipation, and I force my body into a laid-back dance to cover the fact from him.
We stop in front of them, and they look up in expectation. I look back at them the same.
It's like I've been beamed onto the mothership.
"Hey guys-- How's it goin'? This is Spencer."
He raises our joined hands forcing me closer. I feel like I'm living in slow motion again as I stumble in front of them for inspection. I blink an elongated blink, waiting as if I'm awaiting my sentence-- but it never comes.
I'm not shunned-- I'm not an outcast. I'm accepted. That's never really happened to me before. It's kinda awe inspiring.....
Before I know it, I'm sitting among them-- laughing with conversations and inside jokes I don't understand. It occurs to me how strange and exhilerating this is--like deja vu that is mismatched in emotion-- like I know that this is the part where they turn and ask why I'm still there or my awkwardness takes over and I sneak away--just, in this case it never happens.
"So Spencer-- where you from?"
I look at the girl whose name I recently learned is Deanna and meet her inquisitive green eyes. I wonder if she can see it behind my own eyes-- the hot Arizona sun, the cold New York winters, the places I've been, the things I've seen...... But I know she can't-- because I can't see those things myself.
The only thing looking back at her is the blank canvas that has become me.
"Nowhere....... Everywhere."
She grins back at me.
"Yeah-- I totally get that. I jumped ship when I was fifteen-- I mean, I didn't need to put up with that sh*t, you know? Told my little sis' I would come back for her when I could, but she ended up shackin' up with some guy from Long Island-- I wasn't pissed or anything, I mean if she could get outta there on her own kudos to her, you know?"
I nod like an understanding student, and her head tilts.
"When did you skip out?"
I let my eyes wander as I percolate the answer.
"A couple weeks ago."
Her face lights in excitement.
"Oooh! A virgin! Let me give you a few words of advice-- you know that old saying, 'just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they're not after you'?-- It's true. If there's one thing you need to learn it's that *everyone* is after you-- the pigs are always out looking for a fresh runaway-- dealers want clients, pimps want employees, and if you're lucky, you have parents like mine that don't give a damn about you and won't add to the mess. There's only one person you can trust-- yourself-- and if you can't trust yourself, well, then you're f*cked, because you need to be able to sort it out-- friend and enemy, fact and fiction, fun and danger-- not to say those things don't mingle-- in fact, in my experience they almost always do..... life wouldn't be fun without it..... But you just gotta be able to know when you can use those things-- it's all about one goal Spencer....."
I feel completely entranced by this girl as I raise my voice over the booming bass.
"What's that?"
Deanna spreads a grin as she raises herself to stand. I watch her expectantly, wondering if she heard my question. She looks out over the crowd, her eyebrows peaking as she spots a familiar face in the crowd. She begins heading towards the mob. I try once more.
"De?"
She looks back at me like she'd nearly forgotten I was there, and once again her face breaks out in a broad smile. I look at her and instantly I know she heard my question--
And I know I'm not getting the answer tonight.
"Have fun Spencer."