Life Line

A very long time ago, I had a male friend... who happened to have cerebral palsy. Some of his challenges were physical... issues with balance, spasms, gait, speech... and some of his challenges were cognitive. But he was able to get around ("I can walk," he used to say. "Who likes to jump, anyway?") and he really appreciated life. He was sweet and funny.

We would sometimes go to movies, sometimes out to eat, sometimes shopping. And we would go to random festivals and street fairs. He liked to be around other people... and to people watch. And he really liked cotton candy.

At one festival, we decided to visit a fortune teller. We both had our palms read. I don't remember many of the details of what she forecasted for me, but I do remember what she said to him... that his life line was very long... longer than mine. And he got upset and said that my life line needed to be as long as his. Otherwise he would have no one to go to fortune tellers with down the road.

After we left the fortune teller, we were walking down the street together, talking and eating our cotton candy. A car full of guys drove by and slowed down when they neared us. One of them yelled out the window, "Hey! What are you doing with the 'tard?! You can do better than that!" And they all laughed. I looked over at them and stuck both of my middle fingers up in the air as the car peeled off.

We shrugged it off. Losers. But we were both a bit frazzled, and I could tell he was upset even though he didn't say much and tried to laugh it off. It made me wonder how often he was subjected to the ignorant cruelty of other people.

Our favorite thing to do together? Go to old libraries and wander the stacks. One of the libraries has over 10 million items. You can literally spend an entire day wandering around. One floor is just maps and globes... another floor is comprised of photographs from the 1850's to the 1980's. We spent a lot of time there, exploring and learning.

One day at the library, we were perusing the archives. We were joking around about something and he got a little handsy with me. He grabbed me, kind of rough. I told him no and he stopped, but things got very uncomfortable very quickly, and I said we should leave. So we left. We said an awkward goodbye, and then I walked home... with a huge heavy lump in my stomach and some tears.

I didn't spend time with him after that. I was afraid, I guess. I would still see him on occasion in group settings... and I couldn't think of one single thing to say to him. It made me feel sad and kind of sick. And then my life circumstances changed and I moved. We never saw each other again.

That was so very long ago.

Whenever I see a sign for a fortune teller, my eyes involuntarily peek down at my life line. It's kind of short, when I really stop to look at it. It's just a fleeting thought, only to disappear as quickly as it surfaced. Memories can do that... invade, and then go... poof.