History of the Trap: November Harvest Part 1

 Our brief rain left the ground damp, a slight steam rising.  Not too much.  It never got very hot.  It never got very cold.  I stood on the school grounds, soaking up the just rained upon feel of the earth.  My clothes were wet; my face had cascading drops still on it.  I lifted my head to the sky, my eyes closed.  The sun made me feel like the skies were open, that if we could just soar high enough, we could escape this madness.  That I could return to a place where this never happened, snapped awake from this terrible dream, someplace where Lisa was still alive.  Yes, she might not be mine.  She might be with that guy from Huron University.  But that's okay.  Because at least she would be alive.

"Hey, Lance," said Katie Kurrash, coming up to me.  Katie was Jim Kurrash's sister, a large framed girl, built like her linebacker brother.  She was dressed in something new, something I had not seen before.  There wasn't as many clothes for the heavier set girls to trade around, but it looked like the home economic girls had made her something new, a brown pullover that looked like it might have been made from muslin.  It least it was a change from the red blouse she had had to wear for most of the last few months.  "You enjoying the rain?"

She was more melancholy than I remembered.    But who could maintain the illusion of the jolly fat girl in the pressure cooker we now lived in?  And had she lost weight?  I couldn't tell.  Like me, there might have been some minute changes, but not enough to stand out.

Seeing her reminded me that I was not the only one to suffer personal tragedy.  Katie had lost her brother in the terrible tunnel collapse.  He was a good guy, and a close friend.  How many mornings had I started where he was the first one there to meet me in the cafetorium?  He was an integral part of Artie's gang, and had been in our group since junior high.  And now he was gone, just a memory, like Lisa, and Sue, and Tom, and so many others.

"Yes, Katie," I answered.  "I'm just trying to clear my head."  Yes, wash away the blues, as if that were possible.  Yes, Doctor Duncan, I have skipped ahead.  To that  day in November when I decided to try put things behind me, and move on, at least as best I could.

"Are you gonna get back to your soap opera, Lance?  I know it might seem like a silly thing, but it was so good.  I really could use it back.  I think it would help, you know."

Yes.  A temporary distraction, a diversion, that's all it was.  But that's what was needed in this strange trap we were in.  Anything to distract us from the unreal nature of our existence.  "Soon, Katie.  I promise."  And that may be best.  Plunge myself back into the routine, work out my feelings on paper.  Ha!  In a way, I'm still doing that, with this journal to you, aren't I, Doctor?

She grabbed my hand and looked at me, forlorn.  "I know how hard it is, Lance.  Come inside now.  They'll be starting this week's Jeopardy game soon.  It's silly, I know.  But sometimes silliness isn't bad.  Sometimes it helps."

I nodded my head, my eyes misting, but not from the recent rain.  She was right.  It was time to go in.