Broken People (21 page)

Chapter 24

Tall people

FA
T KID.
In my mind, almost everyone on this earth is the same height. As a mass of people, they exist, shoulder to shoulder. What they know is what they see. And they all see the same thing, only what’s directly in front of them, because they are all at the same height, the same eye level. Living each day and seeing what’s directly in front of them and the exact same as the person beside them, they stumble through each day blind to the rest of what exists. From time to time, a tall person is born. They grow up, and having a different perspective, a different field of vision, they see all that there is to see. With their heads held above the crowd of the masses, they are aware of all that there is to know. All seeing and all knowing, they watch the ignorant and happy people below them blindly exist. The knowing, the truth, the seeing scares them, hurts them and binds them. The tall people live, bound each day, to decide whether or not to expose the masses to what they are incapable of seeing. Above the crowd, their eyes see everything that emerges beyond the heads of the masses. Inevitably, in their life’s travels, another tall person becomes visible in the distance. And. They both blink and stare, in disbelief.

“Oh my GOD!” Michelle screamed, her hands cupping her face, when I walked through the door.

Assuming the man carrying the flowers earlier was Britney’s father, I extended my hand toward him, offering a handshake.

“I’m Kid, I spo
ke to your daughter through an Internet blog. I stopped in to see her,” I said, offering my hand.

“The pleasure is mine,” the man said
as he shook my hand. “Michelle has told us a lot about you, and what you have done. We appreciate you calling Michelle. That phone call saved my daughter’s life,” the man said, gesturing to Britney.

As his wife approached, I extended both of my hands toward her, lightly cupping her hand between both of my hands. She smiled and nodded as our hands touched. I nodded in return.

“You must be Marc,” I said as I turned to the younger, tall man in the room. Clearing his hair from his eyes, he offered his hand.

“Thank you for
everything you’ve done, sir,” he said, shaking my hand firmly.

I smiled, and released my grip, turning to Michelle. She looked embarrassed, mad, and angry, all at the same time. I had texted her earlier, and reminded her that I had a surprise for her. Earlier in the
week, we had spoken, and I had expressed the same thing to her. When we spoke, she also had indicated she had a surprise for me. I had never, however, told her what the surprise was. I am certain that she imagined our first actual meeting being a little different, and not so much of a shock.

“We need to t
alk, out in the hallway, Kid,” she said, in a very matter of fact tone. In her combat boots, jeans, and a light colorful top, she turned and went through the door, holding it for me. In person, her eyes and her attitude were much larger than I ever imagined.

“You fucking asshole, you just show up. J
ust walk in here unannounced?” she half screamed.

“Listen, Michelle, as you know, I have been driving. I was coming here all along. And, no, I did not tell you. It was to be a surprise, not
the
surprise, but one of them,” I said quietly, trying to calm her down a little.

“Well, I don’t like it. And, as you say, you can
write that down
,” she said, as she pointed at my face with her index finger. Wow, this girl had guts; and an attitude as big as mine.

“I apologize, Michelle, if I have offended, embarrassed, or
placed you in an awkward situation. It wasn’t my intent,” I said quietly, opening my arms, offering to hug her. As if we had been old friends for a decade, she hugged me. As she did, she cried for a brief few seconds, and then stopped. Breaking our hug, she turned and wiped her eyes.

“Let’s walk and talk,” I said, beginning to walk down the corridor. “Do
you know where the cafeteria is?” I asked.

“Duh, I’ve onl
y been in there a hundred times. Follow me,” she said, quickly walking half a stride ahead of me.

“So,
what’s the surprise, asshole?” she asked as she walked briskly, her head turned slightly my direction.

“Well, I have several,” I said as we got on the elevator. “Let’s discuss them in the cafeteria. Nice boots, by the way.”

“Fuck you Kid,” she said, as she pushed the button to the first floor.

“Seriously, I like
them. They remind me of some I had, back in the day,” I said, as I admired the boots.

We stepped off the elevator, and walked down the hallway together like old friends. I had no awkward feeling being with her. We walked, side by side, as if we had known each other for years. Michelle was wise beyond even her
own comprehension and certainly wise beyond her 18 years on earth. We had been friends for almost a year now, and even though we had spoken on the phone for countless hours, and had shared photos of ourselves, I still expected this to be awkward. It wasn’t even close.

We entered the cafeteria, and each got a coffee. Not remotely close to my Americano at the coffee shop, but
sufficient for this occasion. We walked to a vacant table and sat down across from each other. We studied each other for a moment and Michelle broke the silence.

“So, how was your
drive, and what is the surprise? You go first, and then I will let you know mine,” she said.

“Well, I kind of have two, so let’s go back and forth, how’s that? Me, you, then me again,” I said, laughing.

“Fine,” she said sharply.

“Well, I guess I will just get to it then,” I stopped and to
ok a breath, then started again. “As I told you on the phone, I had one of my dreams. After years and years of nothing, I had one. It revealed several things. Most importantly, Britney is going to wake up, Michelle. She is going to wake up and I think she will be fine.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? You came here to say that? I don’t know whether to tell you to fuck off or what. Jeez, Kid. I can’t tell her parents that. Do you really expect me to believe that? I mean, I know you have certain gifts, but Kid. Seriously. You had a dream that you really
think is going to come true? Really? I don’t know what I think about this,” she said, shaking her head.

“Listen Michelle, I have never had a dream like this and
not
had it end up being true. Or real. Or whatever you want to call it. And I don’t want to tell her parents anything. If everything goes as I think it will, she will wake up while I am here today. I want to leave as soon as she does. I do not want to be here after she wakes up. There will be too much embarrassment and lack of trust on her part,” I said, extending my hands across the table to hold her hands. She was beginning to shake. As she reached out and held my hands, she began to speak.

“That makes sense. I never really thought about it that way. Kind of admitting to her parents that she talked to you about suicide, an
d didn’t talk to them, right?” she said, holding my hands.

“Exactly. Oh, and the drive was great. Most of it at between 120 and 160 miles per hour. Well, except for when I got pulle
d over in West Virginia. Potentially, I could have received ten tickets, but the cop let me go,” I said, smiling.

“I hate cops,” s
he said, rolling her eyes.

“This one was nice. Mad
e me look at things differently. I will have to tell you the story later. So what’s your surprise?” I asked.

She let go of my hands, and sat back in her chair.
A smile began to appear on her face, and she looked intently into my eyes. With her eyes, she smiled almost a prideful smile. She stood from her chair, turned to the side, and began to speak as she started to lift her shirt from her waist.

“After all of this happened, my parents, and, well
… all of the parents started to pay more attention to their kids. To listen, ask questions, probably in fear of their kids having suicidal thoughts. My parents apologized for the tattoo comments, and said if I wanted to get one, I could. So, I did. I couldn’t wait to tell you, and to show you,” she said as she lifted her shirt and revealed her new tattoo.

As I looked at it, I tried to act as if I had no idea what it was going to be. It was done in a fancy script, but it was clear what it said.
Still swollen and apparently new, the tattoo was gorgeous. This kid was a piece of work. Her first tattoo wasn’t going to be a butterfly or some flower. As she held her shirt up proudly, I read the words out loud.

“
‘Stay Human’.” That is absolutely gorgeous Michelle. And I must add, quite appropriate. Where did you get the idea?”

“Well, I had a dream one night. It was the night my parents made me so mad. There was this guy, he was in prison, and he was mad at the authorities. It was a really weird dream. But it was like I could actually sense what the man was thinking. The dream was clear and vivid. Not like any other. He got out of prison, and there were all of these rules. One rule said he couldn’t get a tattoo. He said fuck it, and went and got one. And when he did, it said this. It just fits, don’t you thi
nk?” she said, beaming.

“It certainly does. More than you know. Kind of puts everything in place,” I said, as I stood up.

“Well, what’s your other surprise?” she asked, lowering her shirt, still glowing with pride.

I reached into my left pocket and retriev
ed the post-it note, and handed it to her, folded in quarters. She reached toward the note, and took it in her hand, rolling her eyes. As she looked at it, I noticed that it was covered in pocket lint and dirt. It had been in my pocket for several days, and it showed. She began unfolding it, and turned it over to read the two words I had written on it.

“
Are you fucking kidding me? But. How did you…Kid, what the fuck? What’s going on? This is crazy. It’s freaking me out,” she said, looking at the note.

“I had a dream. In it, Brit
ney woke up, and I saw
that
. Clear as day. I wrote it down to prove it to myself, and to you,” I said in a somewhat apologetic tone.

“Kid, you are truly an amazing person. You just are. You’re different, this is crazy. Oh my God, she
is
going to wake up, isn’t she? When?” she asked as she placed the note on the table, and began walking in my direction.

“Probably now, or as soon as we get back, if my dream was accurate, and it appears it will be,” I said as I hugged her again
, and then continued, “We need to make sure we’re done talking, because when she wakes up, I have to go.”

“Kid, it just blows me away, the
reading people
, as you say, the dreams, your ability to understand, to offer advice. You’re just so, well, I don’t even know how to say it,” Her voice trailed off as she started thinking.

“Michelle, everyone on this earth is the same height. They all see everything the same. From their vantage point, they all see each other. A literal mass of people seeing only what is in front of them. They live unaware of anything they can’t see. And, they can’t see beyond the person in front of them. Every now and again, a tall person is born. They, from their vantage point, are all seeing. All aware, and they see all that there is to see. I am tall. I always have been. You are as well. You’re tall, Michelle,” I said, and waited for her to respond.

“Kid, I am not tall. Not like you. You have the dreams, you have a gift. I may be smart, or intellectual, or intelligent, but I am a kid, and I know nothing compared to you. You have dreams that come true. You see what others don’t, you are taller than anyone. If I had those dreams, man. I’m telling you. If I did, then we could talk about being tall,” she said, rolling her eyes at me.

“Stop rolling your eyes, you’re going to make yourself sick.
Remember our
broken people
conversation?” I asked.

“Yes
. Why?” Michelle responded.

“Well, I am, by most standards, broken. You say gifted, I say broken. I stand above others. I see as far as there is to see. And I could see you standing above the crowd from San Diego. You’re tall. You’ll realize it one day, you will. And when you do, it will flow through you like an infection. You will feel compelled to help others, open their eyes to what you know, and what they are incapable of seeing without you. But, Michelle, I am broken. And broken people attract broken people, remember? That’s what has drawn me to you,” I said as she listened intently.

“Well, I don’t know Kid, the dreams. You’re way beyond what I can imagine,” she said as she straightened her shirt back into place.

“Well, shall we?” I asked, pointing to the doorway.

We both stood, and started walking to the doorway. I looked at the table, where the post-it note lay, my scribbling facing up. The two words I had written were clearly visible.
Stay Human
. As we walked by the cafeteria exit, I threw my coffee into the trash can, and chuckled lightly to myself, thinking of the trash can that I had thrown through my car window. We continued to walk down the hall without speaking. Michelle was, I was certain, digesting my tall people speech. She was thinking. Probably realizing that, if I was correct, Britney was going to wake up. As we got off of the elevator, and began walking down the corridor, our walk slowed slightly. Subconsciously, we were probably both a little reluctant to get to the room. An anxious fear, I assumed. As we rounded the last corner, we saw several staff rushing down the corridor.  At the same time, we turned and looked at one another. Turning back to see the corridor, we watched as they rushed into Britney’s room.