Filling In The Blanks: Infatuation

We slowly slid into the ways, which before this trip had repulsed us. The smells, the movements of the body, the words and sounds that would spew from the lips of these hippie scum, it was difficult accepting something different. Although we were much more liberal than our mothers and fathers, we were staunch conservatives compared to these people. I saw things in my first few days at the commune that still cause me to blush. Up until this trip Jeff, Skip and I had all slicked our hair back, wore crisp, creased jeans and button up shirts, rarely un-tucked. It was just the style. We weren't squares, we were just normal, this was normal for us. We had the hair and beards on our side now, and even the bus, but our clothes really needed some adjusting. Behind the closed door we'd mock the way these people carried themselves, sloppily and loose. Skip would prance around like a fairy calling himself Moon-Fruit while Jeff parted his hair down the middle and stretched it into pig tails. We had a blast ruining our clothes in order to fit in. Jeff ripped the sleeves off of his shirt and split the end of his jeans to imitate the way bell-bottoms fit. Skip tore shreds of cloth into strips long enough to wrap around his forehead, biceps and ankles. He looked more like a homosexual Indian than a hippie, but at this point anything to break the ice with these people would do. Although I had hilarious ideas of ways to wear my clothes, it was difficult for me to follow through. I ended up playing it safe and just fraying the bottom of my jeans. I un-tucked my shirt and wore it with only the three center buttons snapped shut.  Around lunchtime on the second day we were ready to make our debut.

Walking through the tall grass towards the redwood tables and blankets spread around a make shift amphitheater, I couldn't help drawing parallels between us and the guys who'd sneak off into the woods of Griffith and Elysian park to do god knows what. It was painful for me to pull this off. I remember getting light headed as we neared the group of people; I became paralyzed with self-conciousness as the joke turned to reality. I took short, shallow breaths and made a grumbling sound in the back of my throat, I hoped no one else noticed. I had to really make an effort to unclench my fists and act as if everything was normal. I had to be mellow, I had to be groovy. "Hey man, you look like you could use some blues. You're too up tight man, loosen up." A guy lying on his side, propping his head up and flicking his toes in a teasing fashion, reminded me of a demented Jane Fonda. His strawberry blonde hair fell femininely over his shoulders and his mannerisms were like that of a drunken songstress longing for love at the end of her set, wispy and desperate. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye and as I walked by he reached for my ankles. I hopped over his hands and quickly caught up with Jeff as if he was going to protect me. I hadn’t yet realized that this was all gunna come down to me and how I'd be able to adapt. I knew Jeff would either change 100% or not change at all and just bully everyone else into accepting him. Skip was indifferent. I'd catch him twirling the fringes of his bandanas in his fingers even when he didn't have to be in character. I think he liked this life style. I just couldn’t let go of myself, much like the issues I had peeing in public restrooms. I was plugged.  I constantly felt like the guy in a conversation who everyone ignores, in fact I was that guy. I'd try to include myself by slowly creeping closer into groups talking politics or drugs and nod my head as if I had been there all along. I'd make eye contact with people, but they knew I didn't belong, they simply wrote me off. I couldn't continue to be the social pariah. I felt stuck with that look on my face that so obviously is not a smile. The corners of my mouth would quiver as I'd stare blankly into the distance, rubbing the palms of my hands together and praying for my tear ducts to stop swelling. I tried to find comfort in Skip and Jeff, but even they had assimilated. I felt more alone here than I had 17 years ago when Dad left with Mona. I couldn't figure out what I was doing wrong. I knew I was a nice, intelligent person, who was for the most part accepting of others. I also knew I looked pretentious though, or at least that’s what I've been told. I desperately tried to fight this image by acting as concerned background only. On the rare occasion I felt noticed, I'd act interested in the most mundane things. A bee, a dried branch on a tree, the scuffs on my shoes. I didn't know how much longer I could do this for. Free food or not, this level of internal discomfort was unbearable. To this day I acknowledge the stress of the commune as being the foremost cause of my many lost hairs. The life of a hippie was in no way soothing, it was the hardest test I had ever taken.

Based on car mechanics, a subject of which I knew very little, I was able to form a chicken-shit companionship with the commune’s mechanic. Daily he'd work on this rusty old school bus. Some day’s he'd paint it and I'd lend a hand, and other days he'd bore out the cylinders or take apart the fuel pump and I'd only listen to him talk about his progress, replying with "right" or "I know." I guess it was the plan of the commune to load up in the bus and take off for warmer climates once winter came around. His name was Julian. He had olive skin and a naturally fit physique. His shoulders were broad and while he was completely immersed in the hippie lifestyle, he still seemed straight. Julian had a girlfriend who'd come around, who I found to be very attractive. She had long hair, longer than the other girls and would wear beads in select strands of it. She had soft porcelain skin and the firm part of her cheeks glowed red. Her nose was as unobvious as any nose could be and her ears still looked like that of a child, soft and without any sharp point or poignant cartilage. She had long, flowing arms and her thighs were toned and filled the vacant space of her shorts and flowing linen dresses flawlessly. She wore sandals that were held to her feet by strips of thin leather that wrapped around her ankles and climbed to her knees. I couldn't help but stare when she came near. I tried to be as inconspicuous as possible, but I couldn't hide the way my face would glow as she walked by. The most distinguishing trait about her, Shanley, was her smell. I remembered the other girls would smell like a mix of patchouli and body sweat, but Shanley would always smell intensely attractive. I tried to fight the infatuation, but even from across the field my chest would cave in and the back of my neck would burn with desire as her scent danced across the commune. This smell became my daily comfort. I'd go to bed thinking about it and wake up hoping it'd be around.

I was sitting inside the school bus and Julian had gone down to the ocean to wash himself. I heard a sweet, slightly nasal voice softly call out "Julian... Julian are you in there?" I hid at first, sliding low into a bench seat about halfway down the length of the bus. I watched her out of the dusty window approach, her hands tucked into her pockets. She paused, admired the sun and smiled at a hummingbird flying near by. I loved her. She boarded the bus, and took a few steps down the aisle. She called Julian’s name once more. I felt stupid hiding behind the seat. I desperately wanted her to notice me, but needed a way to not seem pathetic and creepy, so I pretended like I was asleep. I raised my head above the seat rubbing my eyes and faked a yawn. I breathed in deeply and on the inhale said, "Oh hey, I was just sleeping. Sorry if I startled you." She walked towards me, not saying anything, just smiling as if she knew something about me, as if she knew how I felt about her, how I searched for her smell. She took a seat in same bench I occupied, leaving little space between us. Our knees and shoulders touched and she still didn't say anything.  She was uncomfortably informal with no regard for personal space. It drove me wild.  Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of silence, her grin relaxed and she moved the hair away from her face. "I see how you look at me. I see the way you get when I'm around and I see that you want me." "No, no I mean, sorry, it's not like that. It's..." "Don't interrupt me. I see how you take long deep breaths as I walk by and you know what? I like it. Thanks for noticing!" She had a sick sense of humor. I was in a state of shock and hadn’t snapped out of it yet. I saw the light and felt the weight of earth compounding on top of me and as I imagined her screaming, "You freak, you pervert, you fucking square loser!" She didn't yell though. She didn't even tell Julian. This is how our rapport began. It was very cynical and sarcastic at first but after a while, being together just felt right. I tried to hide my interest from Julian. I knew they had been a couple for 3 years now and I didn't want him to think I was trying to take her from him, even though I was. It became difficult for me to stick around at the school bus. All I could think about while there was what Shanley was up to. I knew that these would be the only opportunities I'd have with her, fearless of Julian seeing us together, he'd be preoccupied. It wasn’t long after this realization that I stopped showing up to help with the bus. I spent my days with Shanley now. We'd sneak away and go for long walks into the woods. She'd hold me by the crease in my arm and I'd lead her through the darker areas. She let me feel as if I protected her and I loved it. I always had an interest in painting, photography and writing, but never had anyone to share these things with. Shanley seemed like an expert at all of them. She knew so many painters and authors by name and by acquaintance and she took amazing photographs.

At first our hidden relationship, a term that we both interpreted in unique ways, worked out superb. I wanted nothing more than to be recognized and here was Shanley, a goddess amongst mortals, building me up higher than any other had before. I walked around confident now, almost arrogant knowing that I didn't have to search for that smell anymore, for it was on my clothes and in my hair and accessible to me, sometimes.  It was a wake up call of sorts the first time I allowed myself to see Shanley and Julian together. I had wholeheartedly convinced myself that Shanley had all but physically left Julian, so you can imagine the blow I was dealt when I saw them walking hand and hand, down the same trails we would walk, laughing about the same things we would laugh about. I followed them for a while. I watched him put his arms around her, and her skip a head and seductively look back at him over her shoulder. They were together, and I had ceased to exist. I had no idea how she did it. The divide between me and Julian was so great to her, that at no point in time did it seem as if her two love life's overlapped. I watched them kiss, drink together and one time eat mushrooms and make love and I felt inadequate. Our lips had never met, our skin had never appreciated the others in length, the only connection we had was verbal.

I convinced myself I needed to stop pursuing her. I saw that she was able to disconnect herself from me, and I knew I wasn't able to do the same for her. I made the decision to stop talking to her and avoid her at all cost, but the smell wouldn't leave me. It'd follow me around the commune enticing me to come back and allow her to use me for whatever emotional support she seemed to lack from Julian. That fucking smell drove me crazy. Lovesick is not just a term, it is an actual sickness and I had the symptoms that made me nauseous night and day. The nausea would subside in the moments I’d spend with her, but I noticed myself become frantic. I'd frantically look for her when she wasn't around, I'd frantically talk to her about anything when she was, I'd frantically yearn for her connection and it became harder and harder to find. The worse I got the better Julian became. Whatever he wasn't satisfying before had apparently changed because my plan to ignore her had completely failed, as I was the one now being shunned. She left me hanging and I couldn't stand it.

I spent the next few weeks avoiding anyone who might have suspected my feelings for Shanley. I needed to completely avoid all situations that brought her back into my life. When I was unable to do this I'd find myself punching the lunch tables in the dark and screaming into my pillow before spending the night tossing and turning. I had gotten in too deep and I was coming to regret it. We had been here in Tofino for more than a month now. It was never our intention to stay for more than a week, but we each got stuck in unfortunate circumstances that kept us down. Skip had started using LSD on a daily basis. I hadn't spoken with him in 3 weeks. He looked completely different, sublimely aggravated and emaciated. Jeff was caught in a sea of lust. He'd briefly stop to talk to me back at the van or down at the beach to tell me about all he women he'd been with individually and in groups. He admitted he was having difficulty performing, he felt used up. Then of course there was my circumstance. My world of fantasy had been crushed by a reality that smelled so fucking good. I was ready to leave. I was sick of Tofino, of hippies of my buddies and myself. I wanted to be alone again, but no matter how hard I tried there was always something or someone taunting me. I was at my breaking point and something needed to change.

I was laying in the van, it was raining. I heard intoxicated rhythms of breathing and dancing coming from the valley below and I grinded my teeth to wash it out. I put my hands over my eyes and began hyperventilating. I was having a panic-attack and no matter how badly I wanted to I couldn't get away. Where would I go? Who would I go with? Even though I was desperate, I was still too afraid to be on my own. I curled my legs into my chest and laid on my side, staring blankly at the sliding door of the van. I exhaled, conceding to my circumstances and then the cabin light came on. I felt the front of the van dip down, and the passenger door shut. I brought my eyes out from beneath my hands, and there sat Shanley, soaked. "We're getting out of here."