Scorpions and Snakes?

The fear of the darkness has long been a part of my life, though the concept should not simply feature the phrase "a part," but the word "apart." For my fear derives not just from a lack of light, but one's person being stuck in such an environment alone. To this day, I am terrified of being apart from people, tortured by the concept of a companionless life.

In the midst of a difficult decision which I took upon at the beginning of the summer, I simultaneously felt compelled to flee from a number of relationships. I was never forced away; I retreated, for the quality of those relationships, though good, was not satisfying. It is strange to feel alone in a room of people, and I daresay I would never wish it upon someone else.

The worst of nightmares lived out comes in the form of fleeting companionship. And recently, it has existed in great quantity for me.

My largest complication arose from the quest itself. For, with the retreat from the old, came a search for the new. And yet, perhaps I moved too quickly. Great momentum carried me onward, and though at times I desired to stay, it seemed impossible to do anything save to always keep moving.

Perhaps one day I will find myself traveling at slower speeds, more manageable for escape. But John Mayer is definitely mistaken, this train should stop--or at least slow down. When the speed is too fast, one soon finds himself alone, for no one else can join the journey. I travel alone, but it is not how I wish it to be.

Some friends I have never left. Instead, they have left me. Over this season of searching, the concept of "relationship" has arisen in many forms, and in many guises. Some were what my culture calls one-way; others seasonal; and still others ,what my teacher refers to as practice.

Yet, even now, I am struck by an epiphany. Perhaps I am unsatisfied because I search not just for any friend, but friends who are wise, and share their wisdom in abundance. It is true that being around anyone can help keep my fears at bay. But what would I be if I never searched to put more meaning in my life? Only George Gray knows, his whispered warnings wafting over the cemeteries of Spoon River. I need relationships that will make me better, but not so much out of a bending to pressure, but rather from mild encouragement and beneficent wisdom.

One prominent example is immediately in my mind. In my blundering quest I stumbled upon some of the greatest people with whom I have ever had the pleasure of sharing a moment. The venue most consistently is a house just south of my own, and only a very short walking distance away. Somehow, it is like the hidden garden behind the wall. Something of greatness preserved, and I have only now found it with the luck of a child's curiosity. That is where I have seen healthy friendship, strong and prosperous in its existence, and overflowing in its love. When I am around the people who congregate and live there, these are the fleeting moments when I am filled with thankfulness and satisfaction.

Every day I ask God for many things, but most of all I ask for wisdom. And lo, the living God provides. I ask for meaningful friendships, and there are some literally around the corner. It is strange the places we are given the answers to our prayers, but it is not strange that we are given answers, and beyond answers, what we need and when we most need it. The living God is one that cannot be untangled from daily affairs. There is no reason not to ask for what we need, and there is no reason to expect that we will be given anything less.

"'For everyone who asks, receives; and he who seeks, finds; and to him who knocks, it will be opened. Now suppose one of you fathers is asked by his son for a fish; he will not give his son a snake instead? Or if he is asked for an egg, will not give him a scorpion, will he?'"

-Jesus, Luke 11:10-12

The Adventures of Lewis Beacon: Part 2 - The Hookah Lounge

It was a cold walk from Lewis' car to the lounge. Winter seemed to be stepping on Fall's toes. People stood on the sidewalks, huddled in groups talking outside of a hot dog joint and coffee shop across the street. They were mainly just post-punk kids, with their dirty, greasy hair and skinny jeans, pretending their rebellion counted against mother nature.

Someone pulled up in their car, right in front of the Hookah Lounge. A kid, probably no older than eighteen, hopped out and grabbed the door to the lounge as the car drove away. Lewis snuck in behind the kid.

Inside the lounge the smell of smoke was permanently in the air. Loud hip-hop bass bumped from speakers in the ceiling. Long, slow strains of hookah smoke wound lazily out of the mouths of a group next to the door. They were sitting on plush couches and swivel chairs around a table with three large hookahs. People talked and laughed over the music. The owner sat at the bar towards the back, staring at a wall-mounted flat screen TV.

Lewis was supposed to meet some friends that night. For a minute he stood at the door, staring around the club. The greeter was just asking him where he'd like to sit when Lewis spotted his friends. They were around a table near the bar. One of his friends, Hewett Vekeraam, stood up and waved at Lewis. Hewett was extremely tall, nearly six and a half feet to be exact. He had dark, brown hair, nearly black, with bright blue eyes.

Also at the table were Hewett's girlfriend, Karen Linderhill, Kyle Brown, Hewett's roommate, and Kyle's girlfriend, Lisa Phillips.

They had already ordered two hookahs so Lewis asked the waitress for a latte. The waitress walked away, and as soon as she did, Hewett leaned forward and asked, "So what took you so long?"

Lewis smirked, "You wouldn't believe if I told you."

"Try us," quipped Lisa.

Lewis recounted the entire event that had just happened in the gym locker rooms.

"And you didn't help him?" both women exclaimed in unison.

"Yo, fuck that," Hewett said. "If I meet Brent or Turk, I'll fuck them up!"

"I'm kind of with the women," said Kyle, "I'm surprised you didn't help him."

"Dude, they were as big as cavemen," Lewis said. "It would have been like me versus two giants. I wouldn't stand a chance."

"I'm sure my man called Campus Safety," Hewett said in Lewis' defense.

The other three looked at Lewis to see his response. Lewis winced.

"Well... I, uh. I..."

"What?"

"Why not?"

"Great! This Brad kid is probably dead now," Karen huffed, sitting back in the couch.

"They're not going kill anyone. That would be stupid," Lewis said. "You'd never get away with it at Calvin. There are cameras everywhere."

Everyone stopped talking for a while. Lewis could tell that Kyle, Lisa, and Karen were obviously disappointed in him. Hewett just grinned sheepishly. The waitress came back with Lewis' latte and set it down on the table. Lewis thanked her. She smiled fakely and walked away.

Lewis was watching the TV above the bar when Kyle got his attention.

"What did you say 'Brent' looked like?"

"Uh," Lewis turned back towards Kyle, "he was about as big as a house, with a black faux-hawk, and dressed in black sportswear."

Kyle nodded towards the door.

"You might want to see who just came in."

The whole group turned to see three men walk into the lounge: Brent, Turk, and Brad.

Running for a Baby Banana

I have really strange dreams. Sometimes they're fun, other times terrifying. People talk about one or two reoccurring dreams they experience regularly. About the only regularity in my dreams is how bizarre they never fail to be.

A good number of them are so strange, I have to write them down. Every once in a while I even turn them into stories... except last time I did that, it didn't really make sense by the end.

Last night, I had a dream that started off in a very terrifying manner. Unfortunately I am only now attempting to record what I saw, and the only things that I remember clearly took place in the middle of my dreaming.

I was running down a side street in an unrecognizable neighborhood. The only familiar aspects of the area were houses that looked similar to the ones in my own neighborhood, and the African-American kids walking down the sidewalk. For some reason I ran over to the kids, and we exchanged some sort of discourse (the content of which now escapes me). Suddenly I heard a commotion down the street and around the corner, so I left the kids and ran to the next street.

There were no houses on this street. Instead, on one side was some sort of church, and on the other was a school. On the right side of the street (the school side, I believe), a car had crashed, and smoke was pouring out of it. A few people stood by dumbfounded, and at first I didn't know why. All I was focusing on at first were the people in the smoking car. They were friends of mine!

I ran to the car and began getting everyone out of it. Three of the four were dazed but otherwise in good health. The driver however was unconscious. I opened the door, unbuckled her seat belt, and carried her out of harm's way.

Then I turned and saw what everyone else was staring at. At the end of the street was a busy intersection with a traffic light. Cars were waiting at the light, lined up on the adjacent road. The woman who had caused my friends to run their car off the road was now driving away, having hijacked a US Post Office truck. She clearly intended to ram into a car waiting at the light, but what she didn't notice were two baby carriages in front of the car. I ran again, this time to try and stop her, but it was too late. Before I could do anything, she plowed into the car, t-boning it, and causing a slight explosion. One of the carriages was hurled sideways.

I ran to it and lifted the limp form of a child out and into my arms. It was dead. Then, before my eyes, it turned into a banana--unpeeled. Right now, it seems quite funny. But in the moment, I was filled with sadness. I began to weep, clutching the banana close. Soon the paramedics arrived. The mother was found and notified, and everyone was given their required care.

A few days later, but still in my dream, I was at a weird party. Again, I don't recall why, but just trust that it was weird from everything else I've described. We were eating, and someone started joking about a banana in a fruit bowl on the table. I couldn't stop myself. Without a word, I ran from the room crying; I never thought I'd recover.

I woke up then. For a moment I laid there, trying to cry. How does one find a good day in such a beginning?

Though truthfully, I look for meaning in my dreams. Today, I watched for accidents.