This morning I thought I'd try the kitty and doggy way and sit in a sunbeam and drink my coffee. Cross-legged in the middle of my kitchen floor... the warm sun, my hot coffee. I think I found heaven. Sadly, it was late in the morning and the sun quickly ran away from me. I feel like I’m warm enough on the outside and that its my insides that need to be warmed. My blood is too cold... I do what I can to warm up my insides. Nothing seems to work.
Then this morning I found this:
“Coldest Star Found - No Hotter Than Fresh Coffee” ~National Geographic 3/28/11
Perhaps they’ve found my heart.
....75 light-years away... called "an oddball object" or "failed star". Yes indeed I think they've found my heart!
I've been back in touch with an old boyfriend who has since become a treasured friend. The contact is always spotty but I do enjoy waking up and seeing that name in my inbox. Last time we saw each other was... ..... 7ish years ago. We met up at a Waffle House a handful of miles up Stewart's Ferry Pike from our old apartment, I think. :) 231 Trails Circle. I LOVED that place. Small, beautiful, fully loaded 1 bed apartment. Living in Nashville is something I will always look back on and smile about. It wasn't all flowers and butterflies. Nothing ever is but it's a great part of who I am and what I've done.
We communicate via email with my return address under a different name. We talk things through, mostly music, sometimes life. He sends me his latest bit of songwriting to listen to and comment on. I anonymously follow his blog, and he mine. This morning he says, "I'm jealous of your vast numbers of followers." :) I have 7.
We met at Berklee in fall 1994. It was both of our first semesters. I saw him constantly.... in The Caf, freezing our butts off at the 2 am fire alarms, the computer lab, library, Supreme's pizza (Oh! The BEST chicken culet sandwiches with pickles!).... I don't remember how we actually met... when we actually began talking. Perhaps one of my faked asthma attacks when the dorm elevators were out, as they often were, and I had to walk the 5 flights to my room. 5 flights causing an asthma attack! Hahahaha I don't even have asthma. It's ridiculous but apparently, it worked.
Our third year at Berklee, we got an "off-campus" apartment, a shit-hole tucked on the side street between the 2 main Berklee buildings. No WAIT!!!! That was MY apartment, with Adron! He had a single in the dorms still!! :) Some details temporarily hide until I take a moment to think back. He didn't spend every night at my place. That's actually why I think we worked as long as we did. Our 4th year, we moved in together, by Fenway Park. We could see and hear the ball games from our apartment. If we had enough cash, we'd take a walk on game days and grab hotdogs for dinner.
I have so many wonderful memories of Boston. We walked everywhere. To Cambridge on nice days, through the Fens on rainy days, and the Commons and Gardens on snowy days. We only took the T if we had too. There was the best little bakery half a block from our apartment. I remember winter of that year, sitting in the bakery in the mornings talking over fresh coffee and hot out of the oven croissants while I waited for the bus to go to work. That place never had anyone in it and was always toasty warm and smelled like heaven.
That April, Marathon Monday to be exact, is when our apartment burnt down. We were having an awful fight. It was "our anniversary" and I offered to take a co-workers shift. I didn't pay attention to things like anniversaries. I still don't really. I don't feel that they are important. Its the everyday you have together that should be celebrated. Anyway, while we fought, we ignored the smoke alarms for a good 2 minutes. They didn't stop. "We better see what's going on." He opened the front door just a little, feeling first for heat as we've all learned since we were little kids. The thickest, darkest smoke poured through the few inch crack. My heart stopped. It's one of those rare moments of pure fear when the Earth stands still.
In an instant I was on my feet hustling up my cat. Ziggy, the older than dirt life-force stealing kitty :) and the 3 of us went out to our fire balcony and waited. We saw helicopters, heard sirens, and saw so many people in the Star Market parking lot below shouting and pointing and covering their faces. Thankfully, we couldn't see the flames shooting out of the building to our right.
Our poor Japanese neighbor, a Berklee trumpet player who could barely speak English, was in such a state of confusion and panic.... I waited on the balcony while he went over to help and bring our neighbor over to us. He was gone what seemed an eternity but then again, when there are suddenly rivers of black smoke pouring through your closet, a few seconds can seem like hours.
The firemen got the 4 people off the 5th floor balcony above us. Then we let our petrified neighbor go. Then he went at which point another fire truck and ladder had come around the back of the building and a huge black fireman was standing on my bed, hand reached out for me saying, "Come out this way, it'll be faster." They took the cat carrier out of my hands and kitty was out of the building and safe.
My memory of going down that ladder included, "this ladder is f'ing HUGE and the rungs are so far apart!" I felt like a miniature doll on a real life ladder, unable to reach the step below. There was a firefighter coming down in front of me facing me and one behind me, with his hand on my bum to which I remember a brief moment of, "heehee, his hand is on my butt" before the feeling of falling came back and I was thankful he was behind me supporting me and talking to me on the way down.
We all stood in the Star Market parking lot watching and waiting and wondering.... an hour, maybe 2. Heck, maybe 3. We made arrangements to stay with our good friend Brian on his futon for a few days. We thankfully had finished our senior recitals the week before and had nothing to worry about but graduation in 2 weeks. Once the building got the all clear, the residents were allowed in to pick up a few belongings but not to stay.
We walked up 4 flights of charred, stinky, dark halls and stairwells. It was devastating. I felt like my heart was going to explode, my legs were shaking, and no one spoke more than gasps and coughs of "Oh my God"s. I got to our door and hesitated before turning the knob. When I pushed the door open it was a sight I'll never forget. It was late afternoon. The sun was low in the spring sky and soft golden light was pouring through the open windows. The cream colored curtains were billowing and dancing. It was like a secret place... a beautiful, sweet smelling and clean hiding place behind those awful hallways. No water damage, minimal smoke damage. The hole in my closet where the smoke was pouring in was small and just a little smoke came through. I breathed a huge sigh of relief, still shaking uncontrollably, collected some clothes and personal effects and locked the door on our way to Brian's.
If you have the urge to know what a burned out building smells like go to the market and look for Lapsang Souchong tea. It smells exactly like what our building smelled like that day after the fire was out.
The fire was started by our downstairs neighbor one door over. She fell asleep with a candle lit on her kitchen table. The only thing left of her apartment was a now black bathtub, toilet, and sink.
We were in 3 newspapers over the next few days. I still have the clippings along with a left-over invitation to my senior recital with a giant black boot print on it.
The song he sent me this morning took me back to Boston for a moment. That's what good songwriting does. It hits you somewhere, even if for just a moment and draws you in. And for just a moment my insides were a little warmer as a smile crossed my face.
No comments:
Post a Comment