Stalker Girl

Step back in time with me. This time-traveling adventure is not all that long ago. It is my senior year of high school. 2005-06. Try not to be offended. She wasn't the funniest, best looking, or most charming girl. In fact she kind of freaked me out.
Physical contact generally makes me feel uncomfortable, especially from the opposite sex. I don't know why, but girls seem to use contact as a way of expression more than guys. I guess I just haven't gotten over that kindergarten mentality of cooties. When a girl sits next to me and bumps my leg with hers, I cringe. When she reaches across me, I curl into a defensive ball. Intentional contact makes me flinch, such as: lightly touching my knee with her hand to get my attention. To add my disclaimer; physical contact has its place. I don't mind hugging a family member or close friend. But I would prefer it if most people kept there distance. Maybe this phobia is a key to my being single? Back to my story.
The one thing she did have going for her was a sweet heart. She seemed to smile a lot, and she was very friendly. A little too friendly. Every time she said hello, she would grab my arm. This squeezing of biceps and caressing of flesh, made me queasy.
Survival instincts kicked in. I learned to keep my back to a wall, and my eyes peeled. When I saw her coming towards me I would quickly duck away. But she was an experienced hunter. She would approach from down wind. Then she'd pounce. She would grab my arm, and smile as she said hello.
I was losing sleep. She haunted my dreams. I needed help, so I turned to my brother.
"Kaleb" I said. "I don't know what to do. This girl is practically stalking me. Every time she sees me she comes up grabs my arm and caresses." He laughed and asked "Is her name Megan? (Not really her name, but in case she or a friend reads my blog!)"
"Yes" I replied.
"I can't help you. She does the same thing to me."
I don't know if she was always that way, or if it was just Ostraff boys that received her "special hello". Either way we didn't like it and decided to help each other out. We quickly came up with a warning signal. When either one of us saw her we would signal the other and both duck away.
It worked 90% of the time. The other 10% became a contest between the two of us. One of us would see her, and let the other walk into the trap. While the one with the misfortune of being caught had to put up with the arm caressing, the other one slinked by.
Once again I was able to sleep.
Fast forward to Yesterday. My brother Josh and I are at the movie theatre buying tickets.
"Oh hi, I barely recognize you" the ticket girl says. Trying not to look confused, I looked closer. It was her! The stalker girl from high school.
"Hi" I replied, secretly feeling grateful for the glass that separated us.

Like a Brick

Passsed the spilled coke on the now sticky floor. Through the masses of people socializing in the Halls of Provo High. Beyond the smells of lunch wafting from the school cafeteria. The sound of jingling keys cut through the air, like a hot knife passing through butter.
“Shut up!” yelled Adam Henry. The best way to describe Adam would be like a brick, solid and unbreakable, quite a lot like a Chevrolete. And just like a Chevrolete you could depend on his ego to match his bulk. In reality a Honda or Toyota was more dependable, but that is an argument for another day. Adam was the center of the universe. Life was either about him or it didn't matter.
I looked at his chiseled torso, and bulky arms in disgust. I wasn't in the mood to put up with his crap. I wanted to vomit. How anybody could enjoy a life so self-revolving escaped me.
“Stop, or else,” Adam threatened. I looked down at my jingling keys, at Adam, and then back at my keys, and continued jingling them. If he wanted to make the whole world about him that was his problem, not mine.
Whether the jingling keys bothered him, or my lack of respect did, Adam had enough. He stood up, pushed his way through some freshmen, and walked up to me.
“I said stop.” he said. I looked at his hulking mass and decided I didn't care. I kept jingling my keys.
By this time we had gathered quite a crowd. Sadly most of them wanted to see who Adam's latest victim was. I didn't really want to be a victim, but I was too stubborn to relent to his bullying. The only thing I hated more than being told what to do was when someone tried to bully me into doing it.
With his gorilla-like hand, Adam snatched at my keys. I may have been smaller than him, but I wasn't slower. Flinging my arm to the side I avoided grasping fingers. He lunged again, and again, each time I just moved my hand to the side. Eventually he realized I was too quick, and stopped snatching at the keys. The surrounding crowd began laughing.
If it wasn't for the crowd it probably would've ended there. Adam's pride wouldn't let him lose with this many people watching. Thinking he was finished I turned back towards my friends. With a roar Adam grabbed me from behind.
Tighter and tighter he squeezed. There wasn't much I could do. He had me wrapped in an enormous bear-hug and he was twice my size. But my hands were free and I still had my keys. So I just kept jingling.
“Give me your keys!” Adam yelled in my ear, making them ring like a bell.
“Why don't you take them,” I taunted.
“Ahhh” he roared and hoisted me towards a big black garbage can. Realizing that he intended to dump me into a bucket of soggy sandwiches and other assorted material, I kicked out with my legs. With a stroke of luck, one of my legs sent the garbage can sailing through the crowd. By this time my patience had run out. I had enough.
“Let go of me now” I ordered.
“What if I don't?” he asked.
“Do you really want to find out?” I replied through clenched teeth.
Very slowly Adam relaxed his bear-hug and let me go. I turned and faced him. This whole thing had gone way too far and I wasn't going to let him get away with it.
“Come on, just hit me.” Adam taunted. “Or are you a chicken? Just hit me.”
I was ready to become a sledgehammer that would break this brick. With my fists clenched, and my body tensed to move, a new voice cut through the electrically charged air.
“Zac, we have state track tomorrow.” It was my friend Jared. Ahhhhhhhhhhh! Adam was so annoying. I was sick of him and his self-revolving world. But Jared was right, I had state track, and if I got in a fight I wouldn't be able to race.
In angry silence Adam and I stared at each other. Finally Adam turned and walked away. I know that I shouldn't have, but I couldn't help it. As he walked away I gave my keys one last jingle. Adam stopped. I could see the enmity rise from his shoulders. Just then the bell rang and lunch ended.
The crowd quickly dispersed. As I walked passed the spilled coke, I couldn't help smiling.

A Chance

“Hello?”
“Hi.”
“Why are you calling so late?”
“I was wondering if we could talk?”
“Now? Its 3am.”
“I really need to talk.”
“I guess so. Where are you?”
“Outside.”
“My apartment!?”
“Ya, I really need to talk to you.”
“Uhh, okay I'll be out in a minute.”
“Thank you.”

Why was he here? His chest ached with secrets. The kind of secrets that sculpt the way a person lives life. At first they weren't secrets. Break ups, failures, laughter, moments that were known but not talked about. Eventually people forgot, moved away, or stopped caring. He didn't. Those moments stuck with him. For better or for worse, these were his moments.
He could hear his Grandpa's favorite line repeating over and over again in his head. “Don't open a can of worms until you're ready to fish.” Was he opening that can before he was ready? He should just leave. But he already woke her up. He'd call back, apologize for waking her and walk away. Yes.
“What did you want to talk about?” she asked startling him from his thoughts.
“Umm,” He took a, deep breath, let it out and decided he'd go for it.
“I've missed so many chances. I've played it safe. But I'm tired of being alone. Thats why I'm here tonight. We have been friends for some time now. I want you to know that I really have appreciated your friendship. Every time I look at you I see a chance. An opportunity. I don't want to be alone anymore. I'd like to take a chance on you.”
“I don't know what to say. I appreciate that this was hard for you. But I'm not interested.”
“Oh.” His chest hurt.
“Sorry to wake you.”
“I'm sorry, I just......”
“You don't need to explain. Sorry to wake you.” He stood up and walked into the comfort of the night.

Her Name Was Rachel

Her name was Rachel. She had brown hair, and she danced with fire in her eyes.

“Hey come dancing with me tonight,” Taylor said. Taylor was one of my best friends. We had known each other since early elementary school, first or second grade. It had been some time since we'd gone dancing.

“Come on, it will be a blast,” he said.

“I don't know,” I replied. I really didn't feel like going out, let alone going dancing. Lately I hadn't really gone out much to do anything. I had been avoiding social gatherings. For no reason really, I just felt like being aloof.

“Come on. What else are you going to do?” he asked. And that was the problem. I'd been avoiding social gatherings for too long. I didn't have a liable excuse, I couldn't say no.

“I guess so,” I replied.

“Great,” he said. “I'll see you tonight”.

The music was blasting, lights were flashing, and I really didn't feel like dancing. But I was there and I couldn't just abandon Taylor. If I left he would leave too, and that would ruin his night. We had been standing on the outskirts of a mob of people, supposedly dancing. Mostly it was a few girls dancing with a bunch of guys standing around them. It reminded me of Jr. High dances. Taylor looked at me, shrugged his shoulders and waded into the mob. Inside I groaned, but my feet followed Taylor.

Before I go any farther I need to explain how I dance. Typically it starts in my fingers. It is almost like a twitch. A highly contagious twitch. It goes from my fingers into my arms, through my torso, and down through my toes. I call it static. From that moment rarely do my body parts mesh into a fluid motion. My feet will be doing one thing, my arms another. Most people find it intimidating or weird. But they are just jealous. I am a chameleon. I get up in your face and wag my tushy all over the place. In short, I let loose.

At first I had a hard time finding my groove. The music just wasn't working, and I had a hard time letting go. But as the night wore on I started feeling that twitch. Before I knew it I was dancing and having a blast. I guess it was the same for most everyone there, because about he the time I found my groove, other people started to dance too. Nobody was just standing around any more.

I was doing my thing. Weaving in and out of sweaty bodies, busting my moves. Just having a good time. Because of my “eccentric dance style” not many girls can keep up. But she could. I wasn't really paying attention until Taylor shoved me into her. As our eyes met she smiled and busted a move in my face. It was a straight up challenge. I went to work. I'd swerve left, flick right, get low, go high, pull a fireman, then an apple picker, I even threw in the ping-pong player. She stuck with it. Every move I had she had a move to match. Before we could finish our dance off the crowd pushed and shoved and tore us apart.

After that I went back to the usual, dancing as I pleased. But I kept finding myself drawn in her direction. Every time we met, she would bust a move, I would answer. I would bust a move, she would answer. It was a never ending battle. And before a winner was decided the crowd would separate us.

To emphasis the fact that it felt like a Jr. High dance, they played half a dozen slow songs throughout the night. I sat out the first one. By the second one I had already had two dance offs with that girl, and I decided I'd like to dance a slow song with her. But by the time I found her she already had a partner, so I sat that one out too. When the third one came along and she was dancing with some other guy again I decided to take a restroom break. The fourth one was like all the others before it, she was already taken. I decided then that there were a lot of girls that were dancing that needed a partner, so I moved on. I ended up dancing with a girl that was in Graduate school studying manufacturing. I wish I had had windshield wipers on my face, because she showered me in spittle. Learning from my mistake I skipped the slow song.

As the sixth one came on, and the DJ announced that it would be the last song of the night, I knew I had to find that girl. I shoved through the crowd, hoping to find her before some other guy did. I saw her standing to the side, not dancing. Woohoo. I was going to get to dance with her. Just then another guy stepped in front of me and asked her to dance. I dejectedly danced with some other girl.

The lights switched on, the music switched off. Everyone moved towards the exits. As I was exiting I saw her again. Our eyes met and she walked towards me.

“You're a fun dancer,” she said.

“Ya, you're fun too,” I said. “My name is Zac”.

“Nice to meet you, I'm Rachel,” she replied.

“Well have a good night,” I said.

“You too,” she replied. And with that we walked our separate ways.

Thinking back, I wish I had asked for her number. But I didn't. If my life were a movie, I would meet her again. Its not so I probably won't. But I can't help looking for those fire filled eyes.

After a cold blistery week the weather finally cleared out. Maybe that is why thousands of people gathered together on a sage brush strewn hillside. Or maybe it was static electricity sizzling between minds, calling for a mass gathering. For me personally, it was the witch burning. It isn't every day that you get to see a witch burned at the stake. I can only think of a few times in history that such a magnificent event took place, Joan of Ark and the Salem witch trials. (I don't count the movie "The Monty Python and the Holy Grail" because I can't remember if they burned the witch or not). Anyways, I went for the witch. Because of the immense amount of traffic on normally deserted streets, my friends and I parked a mile away and hitched a ride in the back of a Chevy pick-up. As we looked upon the hill, a loud cheer erupted along with a mushroom cloud of swirling colors. We were late, the burning had begun.

Through a dark pink haze I snaked through the crowd. "Where had they gone?" The sticky mass of human flesh surged around me. "Where had they gone?" Frantically I searched the passing, chalk plastered faces for my friends. Somewhere behind me, a body had been torn screaming from the mass and heaved across the top. I saw the poor girl kicking and screaming as she was passed above the crowd. A hand burst from the mass, plucking off one of her shoes. "Give that back!" She screamed. Other hands burst from the crowd, grasping for her remaining shoe. Trying to protect it she began to kick her legs. One of her flailing legs whacked my head. In her attempt to save her shoe, she lost the support of the crowd and was dropped head first onto the ground. I reached down and pulled her up. "Thanks" she mouthed before she was swept away in the writhing mass.

Magic

Most people assume magic is a primitive concept with no true foundation. These people are wrong. Magic is all around. When a person writes and then performs a song, that is magic. When an artist creates artwork, that is magic. When an accountant crunches numbers, that is magic. Magic is not confined to an imaginary world. It is all around us. The way butterflies float through the sky on warm days or the way a stream flows over rock, that is magic. When light reflects off of a mirror, that is magic. I believe magic to be those moments in life when time stands still and your spirit is at peace. Its a calm, soothing sensation that clears the mind and eases pain. Magic inspires and it does not have boundaries. Every person has their own source of magic. Sometimes the magic of two people can intertwine, this is when lifelong memories are created. The key to finding magic is letting go of skepticism. when you open your mind and heart your eyes open too.

Story Time

I really enjoy writing stories. I've decided that I want to write for a living. Everyone has stories that are worth hearing. They make up such a large part of our personalities and our lives. I want to write those stories. So if you want a story told, let me know, because I want to write it.