Torn Over Ben
It was an enjoyable December afternoon. The sun radiated all gloomy life forms into lighthearted souls savoring the last dribbles of their vacations. For the next day would be Sunday, and even though Sunday could and should be a day of relaxation, it was not and never will be for it is poisoned with the dread of yet another Monday at work. We kids had off for the next week, which felt invigorating. It was as if we were back in the seventh grade and we actually had the time to write notes and decorate everything we owned with puffy paint. Those were the days. On that particular Sunday, I was riding in the car with my best friends Lora and Ashley. Our destination was not yet decided, and I was sentenced to ride in the cluttered back seat of Lora�s car, the infamous Duster. I wore a red knit hat over my chilled ears and matching mittens as I huddled my arms over my scrunched legs, protecting myself as much as I could from the wintry fan of open windowed smokers. This was one reason I hated the winter and also one reason why calling shotty was essential. If I were to complain of being cold, Lora would tell me in a mystical voice, �Do not be afraid of the winter. It�s sooo beautiful!� And I would reply, "Um...are you okay?" But her solution to the ever-worsening problem was to simply turn the heat up, which all got sucked right out the window anyways, and then I went back to shivering. Nonetheless, it was an enjoyable ride. Not a dirty little pile of snow could be seen on the ground, or in K-Mart parking lots and there was not a cloud in the frozen, bright blue sky. Luminous rays of sunshine penetrated the tired, crabby town of Hartford, Wisconsin on that fine morning, transforming it; it felt like Springtime. �He just rubs me the wrong way. He is kind of sketchy and conniving. I can�t and won�t ever let myself trust him,� I continued on in a reality show like manner with my opinions to Ashley, as I crawled up and inclined my head into the front seat of the car like a dog on a car ride. Ashley nodded dramatically as she turned around to reply, �I can see what you�re getting at,� she agreed convincingly. �So what are you doing tonight, anyways?� I automatically questioned her, searching for something to do myself. It was probably going to be another one of those boring nights, which I just so happened to love. Nothing to do, not much to say, relaxation. Relaxation was what vacation was about. �There�s really nothing to do, so I�ll probably go to Ben�s place,� Ashley responded aloofly. Truthfully, we three girls, as a team or individually, had never gone to Ben�s apartment to see Ben (which was actually Tim�s apartment that Ben moved into as a room mate); we had recently decided that Ben was sneaky and not to be trusted. We went over to Ben�s because that�s where all of our friends were. So later on that frosty December evening, when the delightfully clear sky became murky with gloom and gray clouds, and the air filled with millions of fluffy white specs that negated the gloom by covering the Earth with enchantment and charm, we three girls headed over to Ben�s place. Upon arrival, we were greeted like anyone would want to be greeted. There, sitting on Ben�s ugly black couches, were our friends who immediately jumped up to welcome us. We were bombarded with hugs and salutes and smiles from most everyone there. It was Molli, Sonny, Karly, Tim, Brooke, TJ, and Ben. As much as Ashley and Lora denied it, these people were our favorite friends. We felt comfortable around them, as they did with us. And as much as we liked to go and meet new people and feel uncomfortably out of place mingling at the big parties, there was always something curiously inviting about real friends. �Yes, guys. I know it�s been a long time since we�ve all seen you. It�s been at least a day now,� I commented in jest. I walked through the impressive apartment living room; The table was disguised as a mosaic of day old pizza, ash trays, cheap empty beer cans, magazines, and video games with a bright yellow flame of a bright yellow candle in the middle of the table bringing the scene together to appear cozy. That was Ben�s special touch to lessen the affects of the bad aspects of the apartment. And although the walls were painted and the room well furnished, the tracks I made towards the kitchen had been over once lovely white carpet now splotched in repulsive black stains. There was no method to this mayhem, but it appeared to be an over all battle field of car oil, bong water, and years and years of unqualified neglect. When one would ask Tim, �What the hell happened here?!� You�d have to use words of emphasis like hell because it was just that bad. Others would go even further and use other four letter words. Tim never did have an answer because he usually ignored the question. In fact, when I think of all the times I�ve actually asked Tim how his carpet became so unpleasant, and I have never once gotten a straight answer. Ben doesn�t know the truth, and he says he doesn�t want to know. I don�t blame him. I took a seat at the littered kitchen table with Lora and Ashley as Ben stood irritably at the large kitchen sink washing loads of grimy dishes, muttering profanities of Tim�s extreme laziness under his hot breath. Tim was lazy, and that was all. The reason I say that Tim and Ben�s apartment was impressive, but describe it as being grubby, is because it truly was a nice place had Tim not gained the opportunity to mess it up. It was a large apartment with three bedrooms, a sizeable but filthy bathroom, a washing machine and dryer, a large kitchen with all the necessary appliances, and a sizable living room capable of fitting all the locals. Tim and Ben even had matching furniture in the living room and kitchen. The two boys were capable of all this and could still afford to buy the latest NOW THAT'S MUSIC collection whilst neither one held a job. To me, that is an impressively difficult feat. The evening progressed as jolly faces strolled in and out at free will. Ashley, Lora, and I resided in the kitchen mingling with friends of all sorts: the ones we admired, the ones we tolerated, and the ones we wish would never go. The thick winter snow fell gracefully to the ground, collecting on the corners of the kitchen window sills as wispy white patches, producing an unconventional cheerfulness amongst the guests. The holidays decorations had just started coming down and there wasn�t a soul who hadn�t wished for a white Christmas that year; this would have to do. I glanced over at Sonny, Ben's best friend in the living room from my crowded location in the kitchen long enough to catch a glimpse of Ben singing a little jingle on the karaoke machine. His eyes shut tightly, long bright eyelashes emphasizing the grin on his face as he boisterously rang out, �R-E-S-P-E-C-T!� I smiled nervously to myself as he artfully threw his hands up with attitude in the smoky air to give the song that he so offhandedly portrayed its full merit. It made his friends laugh, and that�s what he liked. Ben was exceptionally talented at being the center of attention, even in a crowded room, which was the particular case. He was always doing things to show superb charisma by being a goof. He never ridiculed people to get laughs; he always let people laugh at him instead. The karaoke incident was not a big deal to others, and it wouldn�t have been a big deal to me, but for some reason that night, I remember it in vivid detail and smile every time I think about it. Ben caught my eye that night. I found myself going over to Ben�s more often than normal over that vacation break, and this time, I was going over by myself because my two best friends Lora and Ashley would often rather spend time with people that aren�t going to remember their names if they see them the next night. And I found myself going over to see Ben, rather then going over to Ben�s to find a fun party. My entire Christmas vacation was spent with Ben or hanging out at Ben�s, but I knew what my priorities were to be when I got back to school, and I knew that when my vacation was through, so was Ben. I had other things to concentrate on this year- most importantly grades. I knew that if I started going over to Ben�s after gymnastics practice, I wouldn�t get all my homework done. I made this mistake last year and I wasn�t going to do it again. "Tomato!" �Tomato is a fruit! That doesn�t count," I yapped at Ben playfully, finding myself challenging another delightful game of Scattegories. We two sat on a blanket on the floor for fear of actually touching the carpet. Tim stood in the kitchen blankly and went unnoticed, watching the dishes do themselves. "You want to bet on it?" Ben pressed sternly with a mischievous smirk on his face. He knew he was wrong, but the argument had soon become a ruthless battle of stubbornness. "I've got twenty-nine cents and Tim's ma on it that you�re wrong!" "Deal." I casually replied as I took my broken dull orange D.A.R.E. pencil and scribbled his pathetic answer right off his pathetic page. "You cant do that!" Ben shot back as he stood up and threw me a punch so hard in the arm I tripped awkwardly, but caught my balance again. I stood up, stunned, thinking to myself, "He just punched me!" I had never been one to stand for guys hitting girls, simply because I am a girl, so I curled up my thin, narrow hand into a bony fist and threw it down fiercely on Ben�s thigh. It must have hurt because he clutched his leg and rolled to the floor, scowling noisily. Seconds later he swiveled gracefully to his feet and came running for me with a look of sheer animal vengeance dwelling in his full-size honey colored eyes. His face had turned a bright shade of pink so I was barely able to make out any freckles at all on his innocent, baby-like, freckled coated face. He came barreling at me with an obvious intention to throw me into wall or through a window, but I dodged him, shooting to the left, running down the dimly lit hallway, and into the bathroom where I safely locked myself in. "Help!" I screamed excitedly as I stood with my ear up to the door, making sure with a panting smile that he wasn�t planning a surprise attack from the other side. At that particular point in time, I felt like I was ten again, screaming to my mom for her help which never came; it was like I was being chased around the house by my big brother again. It wasn�t a real fight from which I had reason to hide from my brother, just as it wasn�t a real fight with Ben. And although the fights were never real fights, that never stopped me from punching my brother and Ben like I would punch Tracy Wyclendt or Amanda Becker. I often times ended up with some impressive bruises myself; my brother would always give it to me, but he never truly let me have it. And if Ben ever truly let me have it which I never questioned, either it wouldn�t really hurt me (he was a rather scrawny fellow), or he would end up hurt also, compliments of my massive and overly-protective brother. I pressed my ear up to the door and could hear no signs of life within a twenty foot radius. I cautiously unlocked the door and quickly opened it a crack to take a peek of what is on the other side. I saw nothing in front of me but a stain on the carpet and a broken light bulb dangling above it. I opened the door a little wider and snuck a quick look to the right, expecting Ben to be fixed to the wall, making himself less visible to the untrained eye. Fortunately, I had been well trained in the past years, but Ben was not hiding to the left, nor was he sneaking up on me from the right. I fully opened the door, standing in the way of anyone�s entrance. "Ben," I called out nervously, "I know you�re right there!" I hesitantly spoke as I jumped from the doorway into the hall, expecting to find him. He was not there. I walked out to the living room with the intention of asking Tim of the exact location of Ben, but there I discovered Ben sitting in casually o the living room couch sipping on a fresh cocktail. I moved to Ben's present couch and sat down softly, glaring at Ben as a slight smirk crossed my blank face. Ben turned to me slowly, halted motion, and generated a most unusual looking face at me. His large, soft brown eyes switched positions as the left eye was now seeing that which the right eye had long viewed. And the left eye could now view all to the right. His eyebrows hunched towards each other; his forehead wrinkled up to make horizontally long, straight patterns on his face and chin. His little round nose scrunched up, almost giving him the same qualities of a curious gopher. This very gesture would forever make any reference of Ben a reference to my inner thoughts on rodents. The vacation was going by at full tilt as I spent many satisfying days and nights at Ben's playing stupid games like this, but having an unspoiled time. My holiday break included everything I'd ever want an actual break to be. I didn't spend every night wasting energy on parties I didn�t even remember like I had done vacations before. I got to spend time a considerable amount of time with my best friends Lora, Ashley, and Drew. And I got to relax, which was the most important ingredient to delay a nervous breakdown. I had been adapting well to this new lifestyle which Christmas Vacation had provided for. I had almost forgotten to come back to reality. Truthfully, Christmas Vacation was easy to get lost in this year. Not only was it those two enticing weeks of nothing to do-- which distracted us and almost troubled us, Christmas money made livin' easy and good. Over those past two weeks, I felt like a townie- a high school graduate with nothing better to do than sit around, and it felt good. I had been spending so much time with Ben over the week that I forgot it would all have to end because I would go back to school, gymnastics practice, and work. It would be challenging to get back into the school-mode, as my mother says, and get my head out of these stupid clouds. At that particular time, I recall, it was necessary to get good grades, making up for past years so I could get accepted to a college and as far as that goes, nobody was gettin' in my way. I didn't need anything else to worry about- especially Ben. The last brisk and wintry night I spent with Ben, we once again lingered at his lively apartment. The sky was clear and filled with dazzling and inspirational crumbs of radiance, only it was too cold to stand outside and enjoy them. My always stylish, come as a pair chicas also came to spend some of their valuable time with me at Ben's apartment. TJ, Tressie, Karly, Drew, and the ever so charismatic Sonny journey over as well. At one such time over the course of the night, I was positioned perplexedly at the cluttered kitchen table with such friends Lora and Tressie. We three girls were all turned towards the same curious sight- Ben extending the most entertaining and intriguing side of his personality we'd so often called for and seen before. There Ben stood in the middle of the living room, the grimy blackened carpet was his stage. We too were laughing at such humors that Ben's fortunate character flaws allowed for. Familiar faces lit up in delightful expressions that glowed for a moment in time, but I lost my good spirit. A foreign and highly contagious thought clouded my mentality: This is the last night I'll see Ben for a long time. As I watched him perform different songs, impressions, and dances in that frequently visited living room, and any last sign of joy left in me trickled and oozed from my sinking heart. What a nameless and powerful emotion I experienced that night! I studied the tiny digital clock on the microwave, squinting laboriously to silently read the time as midnight. On a normal night, midnight meant I have one more hour to spend having a good time. Then I would retire and head on home and to drift off into a lovely, usually unmemorable world of images and sound on my ever-so-welcoming basement couch. But on this particular starry night, midnight meant that I had one more hour to dwell in a disheartened state about the realization I had just come to, and then I would go home and sleep an agitated sleep. During that last personally mellowed hour, people casually began heading out. Lora and Ashley left as their usual pair, giving the driver�s licenseless TJ a ride home. Sonny and Karly stayed over at Ben�s house almost every night, and tonight was no different than any other night. People poured out the door until just Ben and I remained. As I sat comfortably on the couch trying hard to mask the frown on my face, Ben wandered slowly over to me, stopping along the way to clear off the kitchen table, take out the trash, and do the dishes. I was thinking during the few minutes when I watched him take a step forward for mankind in that apartment, that I cant let this or anything else like this get me down. Ben came close, kneeled down sharply, and with an saucy smile, said, "...hi." He gazed at me magnetically; his large eyes exposed his friendly appeal. I looked at him and became instantly energized, and I thoughtfully replied, "hello." "What's all the hub bub, Bub?" he concernedly asked me in a wispy, grandfather tempered voice. I replied casually, " Well, I really should be on my way." I lethargically pushed myself off the couch, pressing my arms against the bright eggshell painted wall, and stood up slowly, stretching gracefully and yawning as I progressed . I gathered my assorted belongings such as my brown corduroy purse, my dad's brown scarf, and my abused cell phone from the coffee table, assembling myself for departure. I put on my thick, navy blue wool pea coat and buttoned a single large indigo button in the middle. I tossed my purse carelessly over my shoulder, and cast my long, dark scarf over my wiry shoulders. This noteworthy scarf was my favorite new accessory because it completed every well-planned out ensemble dazzlingly. My thin knit black mittens covered my long frail hands, keeping me semi-warm even in the coldest months of a Wisconsin winter. Ben watched me as I prepared to leave, remaining silently parked on the couch, no sign of emotion on his small round face. My mitten muddled up a bundled goodbye-wave directed at Ben as he proceeded to rise up from his couch and see me to the door. He looked at me with fervored eyes, arranging his bright russet-colored hair here and there. I don�t think he truly realized this fun we had been having would have to end until I didn�t come over the next day. Ben threw his extended, lanky arms around my bundled up body and assigned a sincere embrace that was returned in sincere manner as well. Now maybe this is irrational, but I prevented myself from becoming warmhearted towards Ben simply because I had more important things to do. It also may have been a selfish reason to maintain a disconnected emotion, but that�s how Mr. Ebenezer Scrooge benefited - by denying what others were unable to deny. By this, I mean I needed to keep on track with what�s really important to live in this ever-growing and competitive world. I looked at Ben solemnly, searching for the right words, but none came to me as I spouted, �I won�t be coming over here very often anymore, you know.� He outwardly gawked at the statement with an impulsive baffled exterior and asked, "Why not?" I straightforwardly reminded him that I was still in high school. Ben must have remembered the stressful days of high school; it was only a year ago he had been in the same position. I had things to do this year, unable to be preoccupied by anything or anyone for that matter. He stared down at the dreary, dismal floor with an apprehensive expression smearing his once joyful features and said nothing more as I turned the sticky bronze doorknob to leave. "Goodbye," I whispered pleasantly in a good-humored facade. I wrapped my overly lengthy, maroon woolen scarf once more around my neck as I descended out the door, down the shadowy stairwell, and out the door.
Copyright © 2003 Tracy N Van Brocklin |