Reunion Tour

The Story

22 December

Three o’clock, maybe, saw Henry today. Friend (?) from highschool. Thought: am so lonely, should try hang out w/ someone, assuage loneliness. Did not work—just spent day observing someone else’s loneliness, remained lonely myself.

            Getting ahead of self… Three o’clock, got to Henry’s house. First thing could see inside: HENRY RICH. Well, technically, Henry parents rich. Windows, ocean view, floor-ceiling; marble countertops, massive TV, real leather couches. Other first thing, seen at same time: HENRY LIFE MESS. Rubbish everywhere, weird sour smell, dirty clothes on (real leather) couch. Kind of rich where person forgets life/body processes exist, begins exhibiting symptoms of poverty—would not look out of place in tent under bridge somewhere.

            Second thing noticed (or, third numerically, second sequentially, as first two simultaneous): Henry drunk. Took moment to notice because his speech not slurred (Henry good fake sober, had to fake lots to parents in highschool, now with parents gone guess he just faking sober to himself, to me, maybe to God). But no, yes, Henry drunk, all signs there: most-empty vodka bottle on (marble) counter; eyes bloodshot; wide-mouth smile at nothing. Smile, really, tell: could always tell Henry drunk because when Henry fake sober pretend he happy, but actually sober Henry always miserable.

            Chitchat made, v boring: how been, how life, job?, girlfriend?, etc. (Henry fine, okay, no, kind of). Eventually got talking about highschool. Henry like: Remember year 8 camp, fat kid, what name, Jamie, haha, Jamie huffing up hill pushing bike behind group, falling into sand? Haha, what Jamie doing now? (I tell him: GP, married). Or: Remember hot chick, year 11, the, uh, uh—Anna!—how Josh had crush on Anna all year 11, never said anything, just started sweating whenever she nearby, sweated all through shirt, haha, ohmygod man, fucking Josh, man (incidentally—Josh: unemployed, Anna: married to Jamie).

            By now, we few drinks in (well, I few, he many), sky dark, and Henry suggest, hey, old school just couple blocks away, why not visit?, and so then there we are, clambering over chest-high gate w/ NO TRESSPASSING sign, laughing/swearing like teenagers, and I’m all, “what if there are cameras”, but I’m laughing too, I don’t really care. And:

            Woah, the canteen is way smaller than I remember

            Oh god, I remember this classroom, Shakespeare quotes on whiteboard

            And here’s our table

                        near the cold bubbler

                                    the one with the stream of water that shot over the balcony if you held

                                                all the way

We used to shoot each other when they walked by

                        and fill chip bags with water and throw them at the ground below

                                    and one time Amy got caught water-chip-bag in hand

                                                by Ms Anderson in that beige flowery dress

                                                            and ran all the way across school

                                                and then I guess she ran all the way across the country, haha

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                        We didn’t even make it out the suburb

And I just put my arm around him, we look at the stars, which, weird to see from school.

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This story first appeared in edition 2 2021 of Farrago