Broken People (22 page)

We opened the door, and the room was hysteric. Laughing, crying and praying. I stood in the doorway, knowing my time was done here. Britney, half sitting up, spoke two words as we stood in the doorway. 

“I’m hungry,” she said.

I don’t know what she may have said before that or after. I released the door and stepped into the hallway, and looked at Michelle, and shrugged.

“I guess I am done here, Michelle,” I said, opening my arms for one last hug.

“Oh my God, this is so exciting, but that room is insane, there are people everywhere. Why so many doctors, I wonder?”
Michelle asked.

“Who knows,” I said, still waiting for my hug.

“Well, I suppose I could walk you to your car,” Michelle offered.

“That would be nice,” I responded as I hugged her. We held t
he embrace for a moment, in a form of celebration.

“So, what
are you going to do now, Kid?” she asked.

“I guess
I am going to go to my brother’s house for a party,” I answered, smiling.

“You’re actually going to
visit your family?” she asked, with her eyes opened wide.

“I guess so.
”

“How long
did it take you to get here,” she asked as we began to walk down the hallway, headed to the parking garage.

“How long to get
here?”
I thought for a brief moment, and finished responding, “A lifetime, Michelle,
it took me a lifetime
.”

Chapter 25

Damn, that’s one tall bitch

MICHELLE.
Tall people. What I wouldn’t give to be tall. To have the dreams, to be both tall, and a doctor. That would put me in place to make a huge difference in this world, to make my mark. To do what so many others would not be capable of doing.
As we walked to the car, my mind was racing the entire way. I was overwhelmed with all of what had happened. Meeting Kid. Our talks, long-winded discussions, his advice, and just meeting him in general. I thought of Britney’s ‘attempted suicide’, and how everything came into place. Kid’s dream. My tattoo.    His knowing of my tattoo before I got it, and his knowing of Britney waking up.

I thought about what Kid said when we were walking away from the room. He said
‘
A Lifetime’
when I asked him how long it took him to get here. I think what he meant was that a lifetime of guilt, from his girlfriend that committed suicide, was all released when Britney woke up. Maybe, additionally, he was making progress in life through all of this. As we walked side by side, I realized that the entire time he had been here he had not eaten any chocolate. I looked at his khaki pants, and the left pocket. I saw that there was no rectangular bulge, and I wondered.
A lifetime.

Entering the parking garage, Kid pushed the button on his key, unlocking the car he was driving. He opened his arms, and we embraced for a minute. As I stood outside the car, he opened the door and got in. Quickly he started the car, and opened the window.

“I guess, I better get going if I am going to get to this party. Bye Michelle,” he said.

Standing outside the car, I leaned in, and spoke, “Bye, Kid. Will you, before you go, at least tell me your name? I know I have asked a million times, and a million times, you’ve said no. But, will you
now?”

“Well, I will tell you this. You can call me the same thing everyone else who actually knows me calls me. It’s not my given name, but it’s all I really get called by family and friends. My father hasn’t called me anything else since I w
as about fifteen, how’s that?” he said as he looked at me through the open car window.

“Fine, Kid, fine,” I said angrily, appreciating that he would actually tell me anything about himself.

As he started to back the car up, he spoke, revving the engine, “I got to get Michelle, or I’m going to be late. The next time we talk, just call me Hoot.”

As he backed the car up, I thought,
Hoot. I know that name from somewhere.

Acknowledgements

The contents and events depicted in this book are fictitious. The characters are fictitious as are the events. There are, however, some portions in this book that are a reproduction of items that Michelle Basilious provided (or stated) to me in conversations we had regarding life, living it, and what our respective thoughts were on any given day as they pertained to a circumstance or sequence of events.

Michelle proved to be wise beyond her years, and as I attempted to assist people in their need to have someone to lean on, Michelle often provided an opinion from that of a female perspective. Frequently she would take some time to consider her responses, and take a few days to give an opinion. Other times, she would immediately have a response.

Her opinion was always considered, but not always implemented.

One weekend, I had a girl get in touch with me that I had never met. She had received my telephone number from a friend of a friend. Frantic, she attempted to speak to me initially, but each time she tried, she was overcome with emotion.

This emotion filled silence continued for almost an hour, and then we then actually began to communicate, albeit slowly, and one-sided. I learned through the conversation (that lasted almost eight hours) that she was bound by her husband, and gang raped by his friends. This happened for a few days. Against, if I even need to state this, her will. She was in and out of consciousness for two days. Eventually, she was released. In shock and extremely poor health, she contacted me from a remote hotel room.

I struggled with this event
, and how to handle it. I struggled with this more than I have struggled with almost anything in my life. Vengeance. At what point does one administer justice to someone that the courts will undoubtedly not punish properly? The punishment for this particular crime, regardless of what was imposed by the court, would not be sufficient for the crime committed.

Although I could not speak to Michelle about the person, the events, or the intimacies of this conversation, we spoke for some time in general about God, about law and about the difference between what is right and what is wrong. I shared with her my thoughts of feeling a need to resolve this issue with the caller’s husband on my own. When the smoke cleared,
I sat in a coffee shop and thought. I made a decision. “Put up again thy sword into his place; for all they that take the sword shall perish with the sword.”  I decided, for once in my life, that it was not my responsibility to resolve this issue. I contacted the authorities, called in a few favors from some friends in law enforcement, and the issue was dealt with in a manner in accordance with law.

Michelle, as always, proved extremely useful in her ability to convey her understanding of the message of God in a manner that I could listen to and accept. I have always struggled with attempting to do what is right (in my mind), and hoped that it was what was right in God’s eyes. I do not know that these things always were in line with one another.

Until now.

Michelle’s independence, stubborn nature, and lack of willingness to give up proved useful throughout the above described event, and many others just like it. I have spent my entire adult life running. Running from whatever it is that has made me feel uncomfortable. Often, if something made me feel too comfortable, I ran. Michelle and Michelle’s way of communicating got me to listen. And I stopped running. I stopped running right after I ran to the tattoo parlor and got another tattoo.
An Arabic three on my left wrist. To me, a sign of completion…the trinity. The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

I have heard many times, and I do agree. God works in mysterious ways. His speaking to me through an eighteen year old female for six months got me to listen, consider, and ultimately apply his wisdom (and what I believe his intent was) to the above described event, and many others that followed it.

Some of what was shared between the ‘real’ Michelle and I was used, with her permission, in the writing of this book. As I stated above, the events in this book, entirely, are fiction, every bit of it. Nothing depicted in this book happened in part or as a whole. Described below is my best recollection of what my reproductions are of Michelle’s ramblings to me.

Depending on which version of the book that you are reading, and what manner you are
viewing it may not necessarily correspond accordingly, but in the chapter entitled “Fuck Oatmeal,” the ‘Stay Human’ tattoo (pp 47) was a tattoo idea that Michelle had. Although this phrase or tattoo idea isn’t copyrighted by her or anyone else for that matter, the idea of her getting the tattoo originated from her thoughts. I applied it to this chapter as a sort of dedication to her. In the same chapter, the sign on the door was of her mind and her making.

In the chapter entitled, “Cups”, the discussion regarding the KKK, medicine, and prejudices between Michelle and David, for all practical purposes, happened between Michelle and I. It was reproduced
in the book, in the best manner that my mind could recall, in the last paragraph of pp 62, and the first paragraph of pp 63. This was reproduced, once again, as a dedication to Michelle, and my agreeing with her very human understanding of these things that so many other people are incapable of grasping.

In the chapter entitled, “Broken People”, the email between Michelle and Kid on page 78, which goes into a discussion Between Michelle and Kid regarding broken people is an exact reproduction of an email from Michelle to me, short of a name change. The name at the beginning of the email in the sentences,
“You can read it when you get a chance. Shellie. If I met her somewhere…”
That name “Shellie” was changed in the email of the book to protect the person that Michelle was speaking of, but the remaining email, as depicted in the book, was a cut and paste from an actual email Michelle sent to me.

In the chapter entitled, “Dude, you’re
creeping me out”, the list of “Things I’ve Learned in My 18 Years of Life” is an exact reproduction of a list of things that Michelle developed. This list was not made for this book, but developed throughout Michelle Basilious’ life… over many years, many tears, and much thought. This is a list that she holds dear to her heart, and for good reason. From what she told me, she spent many hours in her bed at night crying as she added items to this list and made adjustments.

As I stated in the opening of the acknowledgements, the events, the conversations, and the opinions in this book are fictitious, and are an element of the imagination of the author. The sentences, emails, and list that the author described above are the extent of the items that were used from the author’s life, and applied to this novel. Remaining conversations in the book regarding these items, or reiterations of these events or items, are all fiction.

Michelle Basilious, however, is very real. For what it is worth, contrary to how she is depicted in the book, she loves oatmeal.

Maybe, if you hold your hands to the sky, and plead with God for the answer to a question you have never been able to resolve, she will appear.

When she does, you better be ready.

The author