How do you find what people are searching for when you have no idea where to find it? And just what was it I had to find? I pondered this later as I laid on my bed staring at the ceiling. It was late and I was trying to get some sleep. But my thoughts kept me awake.
As I laid there, I could hear yelling at the house two doors down from where I lived. At Steve's house. There's a bunch of yelling there every few days. And Steve usually ends up spending the night at the Curtis's. Which was what I assumed was happening when the yelling stopped and the sound of a slamming door followed.
I rolled over onto my side and tried to go to sleep. Only to be disturbed by a rapping on my window. Sighing, I got out of bed and went to the window only to find Steve standing there. I quickly opened the window and motioned for him to come inside, helping him pull himself up so he could get in.
"Thanks Chris." Steve panted once he was inside. "Mind if I stay here?"
"No, but why aren't you going to the Curtis's like you usually do?" I couldn't help asking.
"I don't know." Steve mumbled. "Well, I have questions of my own."
I closed my window. "What are you talking about?"
Steve sat down on my bed. "Well, what if you're right? What if everyone is searching for something?"
"And?" I sat down next to him.
"Chris, it seems like I have this huge hole in my heart or something. I don't know how to describe it. But it's like this empty feeling. You know, kind of like when you get really hungry?" Steve paused to looked at me through his curly hair.
I nodded and he continued.
"I keep working on cars. I spend a lot of time with you guys. I do anything I can to try to fill that hole. But it's always there." Steve sighed. "And then there's my dad. I've always wondered if things would be better if we lived in a nicer neighborhood. Not a socy one but a nicer one than this one. I've spent so much time being angry at the world and I'm sick of it. Nothing this world offers seems to satisfy the emptiness that I feel. And I don't think money or a better home would change that."
"I thought you thought my questions were stupid." I said softly.
"I did. At first. But for some reason, I can't stop thinking about them. It's like listening to a scratched record that keeps skipping and plays the same phrase over and over again." Steve admitted.
"And it gets so annoying that you can't sleep." I found myself saying.
Steve chuckled. "Exactly!"
We sat in silence for a while. And for once there wasn't an uncomfortable tension between us. Instead, there was a sort of understanding.
"Soda wants me to find whatever it is everyone is searching for." I found myself saying.
"I want to find it, too." Steve told me. "I'm tired of having this empty feeling and being angry all the time."
"But, how are we going to find it?" I asked. "I don't even know where to look."
Steve stared at his hands for a few minutes before he responded with, "We can't look where we usually go, that's for sure. If we could, we'd have the answer."
"That makes sense." I said. " Still, we have no idea where to look. At least I don't."
We didn't say anymore after that. I think we were both trying to figure out where we could find what everyone was searching for. And both of us fell asleep as we each pondered our own thoughts anyway. So it didn't matter that neither of us spoke for the rest of the night.