Why I Committed Suicide (24 page)

Turns out RedOne’s timing belt was the problem which meant we had about five days to wait before the mechanic could get parts shipped in and do the labor. No problem I thought, we have an emergency credit card to pay for the car and we can stay at the family cabin until our car is repaired, maybe do some local day-hikes instead. The Sheriff was a super guy; he loaded our gear from the car into his SUV and then gave us a lift out to Lake City after Dirk didn’t show up. I was nervous because I had put our tiny bit of leftover marijuana in my backpack, which then went into the back of his Wagoneer and I thought maybe his supernatural cop instinct might pick up on it. But we drove through the winding mountain roads and spectacular scenery without incident. Jenifer sat up front with the Marlboro cop who showed her all his police gear and they chain-smoked cigarettes together.

I hope we scared the shit out of Dirk and Natalya when the Sheriff showed up at their door; they certainly seemed surprised to see us despite knowing we were going to show up eventually, regardless of their blowing us off. Maybe they were hoping that if they ignored us our final destination might somehow change. I thought it was pretty rude and low class considering we had asked for permission to use the cabin before they had even made plans to show up there, but I let it go. We ate an uncomfortable dinner with them, took showers, got clean, then pirated one of the four bedrooms and crashed out.

Waking up in the morning at the cabin retreat of my youth with the girl of my dreams, despite our separate twin beds (ala 50’s television) was a satisfying feeling. We walked around and I showed her the familiar scenery and the intimacies of the cabin hideaway including the rainbow prisms that fascinated me as a kid and the high-powered telescope by the back porch used for late night stargazing. The hummingbirds were out in force, buzzing to and fro among the feeders James’s mom meticulously attends to. I showed Jenifer the now defunct pond where James fell through the ice when we were goofing around one winter. James caught a lot of fallout as a child from our misguided schemes. I showed Jen all the fly fishing gear Mr. Patterson taught me how to fish with, the BB guns I used to shoot cans off the porch and the ping pong table in the garage. We mostly just sat in the sunshine under the huge windows in the living room, reading our books and resting after our hard day yesterday. Dirk and Natalya kept trying to get us drunk with them but we weren’t all that interested in imbibing. We were just enjoying the peacefulness of being where we were, respectfully taking in the environment. I can’t help but wonder now that if maybe we had been more outgoing or alcoholic with them we might have gotten to stay in the comfort of the cabin longer. Jenifer and I just wanted to be with each other and let Dirk and Natalya do their own thing since we didn’t want to intrude on whatever they had planned and we only needed to wait for RedOne to get fixed so we could go camping at some overnight spots like we had planned.

So, Dirk and Natalya just happened to be there at the same time we had planned to be there and maybe more social interaction was called for on our part, but they certainly didn’t act like they cared about anything we had to say. In fact they kept going out of the room to talk to each other in private and after they had a few beers in the evening some of their jokes maliciously leaned towards making fun of us and them acting superior about some of the friendly letters I had written to them after their marriage. I was unabashedly polite and stepped lively trying not to intrude or violate their space but I could tell something was going on.

The next evening, we all sat down for a late lunch and they nervously told us some bullshit story about how some friends of theirs were arriving the next day and how we would have to leave.
Excuse me?!
I called James ahead of time and he talked to his parents to verify our presence would be okay. Then all of a sudden out of the blue we have to go because his older brother decided it was his prerogative? Our car is in the shop, which they are clearly fucking aware of, and this was OUR intended destination and now YOU want to strand us in an unfamiliar town under the pretense of politeness? Well fuck that! I even volunteered to sleep in the basement or the garage if running out of bedrooms was their excuse, it seemed like an uncomfortable but reasonable compromise to me. It turns out they would have enough empty bedrooms for their “friends” even with us there; they just wanted us out of town. They went out of their way to make us feel as if we would be too much of an embarrassment to have around these “friends”. Oh Dirk, you little fucking man, I’m hurt. I always credited you with being better than that, the one adult I related to, and now that my hero worship is dashed, I feel violated. I feel angry to see you treat Jenifer this way. You little fucking man.

Dirk and Natalya diplomatically said we could be driven back to Creede after lunch or early the next morning. Since it gets into the 20’s here at night I immediately responded we would definitely go first thing in the morning, reminding them we don’t have anyplace to stay and that we can’t even get into our own car for camping gear since it’s in the shop. Then they had the audacity to say they would rather drop us off after lunch.
Well why the fuck did you even pretend to give us an option you cocksucking bastards?!

I can only hope that the drive into Creede was uncomfortable for them. We piled into their yuppie-wagon and refused to speak to them during the wholehour or so it took to get there. Jenifer was openly fuming at how disgracefully rude and contemptuous they had treated us the whole time we visited and I would have sliced open their plush leather back seats with a knife if I’d had one. My stomach was roiling as if I’d just eaten several teaspoons of salt. Fortunately after their few pathetic attempts to justify abandoning us in the middle of nowhere, they finally shut the fuck up and I could sit quietly and dwell on how humiliating it felt to be driven out of town by the smiling backstabber who shattered the embodiment of everything good I’ve wanted to emulate ever since my youth. It was pathetically weak of them and neither one of us could stand to be around them anymore after seeing their true colors. After Dirk and Natalya let us out of the car they turned it around and drove back by us giving a friendly wave like everything was just peachy with the world. So I pretended as if I was the idiot they thought I was and I smiled and waved back at them until they had both turned to look at me waving and then I shot them the bird.
Get the FUCK out of here you two-faced assholes!

Oh, we cursed them. We cursed any ass-kissing benefit to their careers or lives that might come about this week at our expense. We cursed their marriage, friends and future children. They now have a blackness that will forever follow them through life. Gaining without honor is akin to selling your soul. To gain by stepping on family, even extended family, is worse. Even though the first funeral I ever attended was for Pop, the grandfather that Dirk was originally named for, where I was allowed to sit up in front with the family in his absence, the devastation finally sank in and I realized that no matter how much I might wish or want or pretend or even love the Pattersons as my own family, I will never be a part of them. That’s what hurt more than anything else.

After that whole experience, we sort of stumbled around town for a while in shock. We checked the progress on our car and found out it would be a few more days before it was finished since the parts hadn’t even come in yet, then we ate some dinner at a local greasy spoon where we ran into the Sheriff again. We were pretty embarrassed to have to explain why we were back in his town so soon and wandering around like homeless people but he helped point us to this nice little bed and breakfast that Jen melted some parental plastic on. We should send Dirk the bill. The Sheriff also said if the opportunity ever arose he would pull Dirk and Natalya over and give them a ticket for us. Now THAT’S a great guy.

The owner of the B&B has been great to us too; she gave us college discounts without even asking if we were in college, despite her house being empty of visitors at the moment, and she helped us make plans to go out hiking into the wilds tomorrow. The extra bed and breakfast expense is justified because it’s a band-aidfor our fragile psyches, the place is very old school and romantic, which is what our trips are always about anyway. So I guess it all worked out for the best. I learned a painful lesson about childhood “heroes” and God brought us into contact with some truly kind people. Of course we’ll be leaving this small facet of civilization behind tomorrow for a day or three, just as we’ve already left our former host’s bullshit behind, and hopefully the icy darkness stabbed into our hearts will become swallowed among the majesty (there’s that word again) of the Rockies and we’ll learn to forgive. Even if the mountains don’t.

21 Then Peter came to Him and said, “Lord, how many times could my brother sin against me and I forgive him? As many as seven times?” 22
“I tell you, not as many as seven,”
Jesus said to him,
“but 70 times seven”
—Matthew 18:21-22

Once again we are back at the wonderful little bed and breakfast tucked into the heart of Creede. After roughing it for the past two days, Jenifer felt the need for more pampering and despite my worries about spending too much money I couldn’t find it in me to argue too much.

The day after our unappetizing reality check we set out to gather supplies and hiked a long winding trail that led up into the mountains surrounding the town. We bought water, trail mix and several other necessities like hot dogs, marshmal-lows, bread and rice. I also stole a roll of film for my camera. Jenifer got upset that I stole from a small town store saying how she would rather not have pictures if we have to steal them, but I couldn’t justify the hyper inflated price of $15 for one roll of 35mm film and I wanted to take some damn pictures. There was a brief harrowing moment halfway out of town when she realized her raggedy brown wallet with her money and credit card (which we need for the car!) was missing and I must admit I panicked and probably acted like an asshole (again). I had vivid visions of trying to get the car from the mechanic with no way to pay for any of it and then begging Dirk and Natalya to help us while they laughed and kicked me in the teeth with their steel-toed nazi boots. Memories of her losing her money in Mexico helped compound my growing sense of dread as we walked back into town, but when we returned to the store they had held her wallet there for her. I was relieved but then felt extra guilty about hooking the film from them.
I’M SORRY I STOLE A ROLL OF FILM ALRIGHT!
Damn I hate moral reminders sometimes.

We hiked up and up and up with our worldly possessions and borrowed camping gear growing heavier and heavier on our backs. We took a lot of breaks for cigarettes and pot but gradually we reached the less inclined trail that wound through a birch wonderland. I took a lot of pictures despite knowing that scenery blends together in a photographic respect but I also know my own angular variations and the inclusion of my 5’9” flannel-clad blond bombshell will make the photos memorable to me. Every time we paused I marveled at how the rigors of altitude flushed Jenifer’s cheeks and made her hair stick to her head. It was sexy in a sweaty aerobics instructor sort of way, plus the oxygen deprivation to my brain probably helped make me moony.

Eventually after trekking all day under a blue sky, Jenifer put on her stubborn face, dropped her gear and said she wasn’t going any further. We set up camp and I felt like an asshole for pushing her so hard on the hike, forgetting that she’s physically smaller and asthmatic to boot. I guess it’s just that her spiritual enthusiasm soars above mine so often that I forget to treat her like the lady she is, but I suspect she likes that I treat her as more of a friend first. My best-est friend. We put the tent up, gathered firewood and then explored our surroundings. My camera has a timer and I took this great picture of us from the back holding hands naked during sunset, staring out over a spectacular view.

After spending the night smoking pot and talking with Jenifer in front of the fire under the most vivid stars I’ve ever experienced, we turned in early to soothe our taxed frames. The following day we hiked back down to the great news that RedOne had been fixed. Well almost fixed anyway, one more night at the most. I got a greater appreciation for the influence and generosity of the Sheriff taking us under his wing when three other
touristas
came by the garage while me and the mechanic were having another conversation about Nebraska football. The people only needed something minor repaired on their jeep and the mechanic all but told them to fuck off while we were talking. He ended up only charging Jenifer about $160 bucks to fix her car, which was so surprisingly cheap for a timing belt that she wanted to tip him. I got the impression he still thought he was overcharging us because he went ahead and fixed some other minor stuff on her car for free, what a great guy! When Jen eventually tells her parents how much it cost to get the timing belt fixed, her dad’s going to shit a brick. He has used the same mechanic in Denton for years and always gets overcharged for everything. I suspect the extra money her dad pays is mostly just to give his obsessive-compulsive brain a false sense of security.

We’re going to have to cut our car trip short by a few days thanks to all the unexpected events that went on, but we both don’t mind much. We did what we set out to do and it’ll be nice to lie around the house for a few days, among real friends, with no particular place to go.

Today Dan and I went scavenging in the bowels of his parent’s garage. It was boiling with excruciating heat, even under the roof of the building that once upon a time was intended to shelter his parent’s mobile transports. Imagine a virtual warehouse of wall-to-wall boxes filled with discarded treasures of the 1970’s. I scored a new rolling tray that was once a souvenir from a now long forgotten trip to Tahiti. We also got all kinds of framed pictures and even some funky string art that has been incorporated into our living room décor. I wouldn’t have been surprised if we had come across a paint-by-numbers set featuring the Osmond’s, it was just that kind of cool loot. Anyway, after several carloads and lots of replenishing ice water, our front living room in the house is filled with all kinds of miscellaneous junk that one day we’ll sell in a garage sale and make a bit of cash. When the planets perfectly align and we are properly motivated of course. It’s just SO DAMN HOT now that it’s hard to do much of anything at all. We curse the heat yet hate the cold, there has to be a nice balance somewhere, but it’s probably not in Texas.