I’m experiencing a virtual high school reunion on facebook lately, with Scott, David, James, Arthur, Cari, KTS, Mash, and a few random others twirling about. That about covers the crew who could normally be found in my car on any given day in the late eighties.
Who is missing? Hmm. Dennis, last seen the day he finished university in 1994. Marc, off in SF presumably doing all sorts of interesting things. Pell-Mell, lost to the eastern desert. Thomas, last seen at the pride store in Seattle though I ducked rather than saying hello (the shock was too much for my shy self and he was gone before I collected my wits).
And, of course, Anne – best friend from the first day of kindergarten until the day she watched me nearly die giving birth, at which point she vanished from the narrative. I hear she works at the navy yard but that fact has not been independently verified.
The girls who dated the gay boys are, as always, lurking vaguely on the margins. I didn’t understand them then – why all the heartbreak and drama over people who do not want to have sex with you? And they didn’t like me at all, because their gay boyfriends like me too much. But, well, whatever.
The interesting thing about all of these people popping up again, not just individually but in one clearly defined (albeit imaginary) space is the fact that I really enjoyed our time together. 1986 was the year my illness stabilized – if you can call six bouts of bronchitis, four of pneumonia, and a standing monthly appointment to hack cancerous lesions off your torso good health.
Sixteen and seventeen were good years, with days and nights on rocky beaches, marching band trips, rotating dates, ferry rides and blindfolded picnics. We forked lawns, moved effigies from one wooded copse to another, drove aimlessly around in a cavalcade of ratty old cars, and when all else failed, amused ourselves by standing around 24 hour supermarkets.
We took over the International Society to have an officially sanctioned clubhouse, and gleefully ran the social lives of all the exchange students in the south end of the county whether they liked it or not. We joined the political clubs of all descriptions because our simple presence at the meetings drove the serious youngsters nearly to tears.
We dragged the taxidermied mascot wolf out of a cupboard and rode it until the ear fell off. We misbehaved as much as anyone could without getting kicked out of honor society.
During her visit my mother asked Do you remember that day I got a call from the school asking if your early release note was forged? Except I already knew you were skipping because I had watched from the shore as you and a dozen of your friends got on the Seattle ferry.
I replied Yeah, we went to see a matinee of The Tempest. Oh, how shocking! Shakespeare as the downfall of society!
When I see David in London we raise a drink and toast the innocence of those years. We were collectively just so good – no alcohol, no drugs, no criminal activities whatsoever, and those of us having sex kept it a strictly guarded secret.
One of our group got pregnant, and shocked the administration by refusing to drop out, but her methodology included obtaining a very large bunny costume and wearing it as much as possible.
All of our antics stand in contrast to the fact that a certain administration favorite was the biggest drug dealer in the school. Popular kids were dying in fiery drunken crashes or having their brains blown out in coke deals gone bad.
My little gang of outcasts, punks, mods, musicians and thespians circulated petitions and staged dog weddings. The idyll lasted about a year and a half, then Scott and David and half the group graduated. The accident happened a month or so later.
Injuries, lies, and lawsuits took away everything else. Now I remember high school as a bleak, destructive, disastrous time – but that is too simplistic. There were delirious, brilliant moments along with all the bad.
I loved the people who went through those years with me, perhaps in an immature and imperfect way, but that is what we had to offer each other, and that was enough. It is good to meet them again so many years later, and confirm that we are all approximately who we always were.