I stretched out my legs and lay down on the warm concrete. Summers in Florida made the ground beneath your feet hellishly hot. You could get burns by simply walking out to your mailbox barefoot. Summer nights cooled Florida, but the humidity still saturated the air.
“It’s nice here,” I said.
He turned and looked at me. “It is.”
“Sorry about the light post there. I thought they would never fix it but I guess they did,” he said.
“Nah, don’t worry about it. You still have a beautiful view of the sky,” I replied. A strong, hot breeze flew by, only a few seconds and then it was gone. Such breezes were common here; they would swoop in with the might of an army and dwindle to a mere whisper and disappear before you understood that you were caught in something else.
A sigh escaped from me as I thanked him for inviting me to stargaze.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, but not in a caring tone, in a Goddamnit-what-is-it-now?-tone.
I turned my face, looked at him, and sighed again. “Nothing and everything.” I could tell I was aggravating him.
“No, really, what is it?” he asked again.
Hurricane season begins in June. Florida loves this and fears it simultaneously. The rain and wind cool the air, saving thousands from the fiery inferno associated with the summers. And yet, the rain and wind are uncontrollable, and their fury is too great to imprison or quarantine. The hurricanes bring change—some wanted, some unwanted. But change, nonetheless.
I looked inquisitively at him and then turned my eyes to the sky again. “You really don’t care to know. You’re only asking out of courtesy. So, I really don’t want to tell you. And even if I did, it’s not like you’d understand it—whatever happens to be wrong. So, be quiet, and let me enjoy my stars in peace. Isn’t that what you wanted in the first place? Some peace and quiet to simply enjoy the beauty of nature?”
He looked at me, dazed yet appalled. “I can’t believe you,” he said, as he stood to leave.
“Why? Because I might just be right? You certainly didn’t have to ask me what was wrong in that tone of voice.”
“What tone of voice?”
“You know what I’m talking about. Like you’ve heard everything before and it’s just another chore asking me what’s wrong. Well, you could’ve just ignored it and then this whole thing wouldn’t be the way it is right now. I never asked you to care.”
“You never ask anyone to care, but you sure as hell expect it! All you ever do is bitch and moan about your life and how horrible it is! And how no one would ever begin to understand. Well, maybe no one wants to understand! How can you be so self-absorbed? It never even occurred to you that I might have asked you here to talk about something, did it? It’s always about you and how “nothing and everything” is wrong! I asked you what was wrong because I’m a friend and that’s what friends do! They listen to the stories of a friend who’s tired or sad or angry and they try to figure life out together. But you wouldn’t know a thing about that!”
He began walking away from the edge of the dock and I lay there, still and dumbfounded. I heard him mutter “goodnight” before I stood up and followed him.
“Wait!” I yelled.
He stopped but didn’t turn to face me. When I finally caught up, I stood next to him. “I’m sorry,” I said.
“So am I,” he replied. “I thought…I thought you’d know what it was like, but…”
“What what was like?” I asked, puzzled.
Now, he sighed. “What it’s like to wake up one morning and find that everything in your life is…slipping away. No matter how much I try to hold onto everything, it’s all disappearing, and I don’t know what to do.”
I took his arm and dragged him back to the dock. We sat down under the light post, with our legs dangling from the edge.
“Everything changes, you know,” I said quietly.
“I know…I just don’t know how to accept it.”
“However you can…it’s beginning, you know.”
“What is?”
“The season. And there’s not much you can do to prepare for the change—and there will definitely be a change—but that doesn’t mean you have to do it by yourself. I’m always fumbling and stumbling and wandering by myself…we may as well stumble along together,” I replied, as I laid my head on his shoulder and listened to him tell his story.
