where you feel like you need something to fill this big hole in you, and it has to be now. The hole never gets filled, somehow. The something is always just out of reach.
But then I thought, Maybe you can’t just expect the shot to be there. Maybe you have to find it. Pursue it.
Maybe even create it.
I actually did go to school later that day. Briefly. But it wasn’t so much about attending classes. Which I was still too upset to do. I don’t think I would have been able to pay attention anyway, so it seemed pointless.
I actually went to find Wilbur.
And I did find him. After about twenty minutes of looking. Sitting cross-legged in a corner of one of the stairwell landings, reading a dog-eared paperback.
He looked up and smiled.
“Hey,” I said. And sat down next to him.
“Hey.”
“Where are you supposed to be?”
“Gym class. It’s unbearable.”
“Oh.”
“Where are you supposed to be?”
“Home, I guess. Since I’m skipping school today. And I’ll probably have to say I’m sick.”
He put down the novel. “So if you’re skipping school, isn’t showing up here a little counterproductive?”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. But I wanted to ask you something.”
I was hoping he wouldn’t ask why I’d come all the way down to school to do it. Rather than just ask next time I saw him. Because it would have been tricky to explain. Part of that whole needing-something-right-now thing.
“Okay.”
Now that I thought about it, Wilbur didn’t ask a lot of questions.
“I wanted to know how you would feel about me taking pictures of you.”
He glanced at the camera hanging around my neck. I’d brought it along in the hopes that we could do something immediate.
“For what?”
“I don’t know. Just for me, I guess. I’m trying to learn photography. I just need a subject who’s … you know … interesting.”
“Interesting as in weird?”
“No. Not at all. Interesting. As in, somebody who looks like they have a story to tell.”
He seemed to like that. I could see the difference on his face.
“Okay. I’ll try it. So long as I get to see the pictures before you do anything with them. And you have to let me really be me. Which is a little more extreme than the way I come to school. And I’ll have to get dressed and made up at your place. I can’t leave home looking like that.”
While he talked, I was having to let go of the idea of getting what I wanted on the spot. It hurt to feel it pulled away.
“When, then?”
“Maybe Saturday.”
“Okay. I guess Saturday would be okay.”
Which still left me with today to fill. But that really wasn’t Wilbur’s problem.
We sat there awhile longer in the corner of the landing, and he didn’t pick up the book again. There was a beam of sunlight slanting down from a high window over our heads, and I watched bits of illuminated dust swirl in it.
“Do you like cats?” I asked after a time.
“I love cats. I used to have a cat. But my stepfather gave her away.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
My problems didn’t seem so big compared to that. So I wasn’t sure whether to say more or not.
“Why do you ask?”
“Oh. I guess I just wanted to talk to somebody because my cat is sick.”
“Is he gonna be okay?”
“Not sure yet.”
“I’m sorry.”
We sat awhile longer. I watched dust swirl. Thinking it was probably always swirling like that. Everywhere. I just didn’t usually see it so clearly.
Then Wilbur said, “If there’s anything I can do …”
I was able to think of something immediately.
* * *
Wilbur and I walked all the way to the vet’s office after school. I thought it would be better to walk. Like it would calm me down and tire me out and make it easier to be there.
Or maybe I just wanted to get there as slowly as possible.
I purposely didn’t call ahead because I was scared of what they’d tell me. My gut felt like there must be bad news, and it would be better if I didn’t know.
The woman
But then I thought, Maybe you can’t just expect the shot to be there. Maybe you have to find it. Pursue it.
Maybe even create it.
I actually did go to school later that day. Briefly. But it wasn’t so much about attending classes. Which I was still too upset to do. I don’t think I would have been able to pay attention anyway, so it seemed pointless.
I actually went to find Wilbur.
And I did find him. After about twenty minutes of looking. Sitting cross-legged in a corner of one of the stairwell landings, reading a dog-eared paperback.
He looked up and smiled.
“Hey,” I said. And sat down next to him.
“Hey.”
“Where are you supposed to be?”
“Gym class. It’s unbearable.”
“Oh.”
“Where are you supposed to be?”
“Home, I guess. Since I’m skipping school today. And I’ll probably have to say I’m sick.”
He put down the novel. “So if you’re skipping school, isn’t showing up here a little counterproductive?”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. But I wanted to ask you something.”
I was hoping he wouldn’t ask why I’d come all the way down to school to do it. Rather than just ask next time I saw him. Because it would have been tricky to explain. Part of that whole needing-something-right-now thing.
“Okay.”
Now that I thought about it, Wilbur didn’t ask a lot of questions.
“I wanted to know how you would feel about me taking pictures of you.”
He glanced at the camera hanging around my neck. I’d brought it along in the hopes that we could do something immediate.
“For what?”
“I don’t know. Just for me, I guess. I’m trying to learn photography. I just need a subject who’s … you know … interesting.”
“Interesting as in weird?”
“No. Not at all. Interesting. As in, somebody who looks like they have a story to tell.”
He seemed to like that. I could see the difference on his face.
“Okay. I’ll try it. So long as I get to see the pictures before you do anything with them. And you have to let me really be me. Which is a little more extreme than the way I come to school. And I’ll have to get dressed and made up at your place. I can’t leave home looking like that.”
While he talked, I was having to let go of the idea of getting what I wanted on the spot. It hurt to feel it pulled away.
“When, then?”
“Maybe Saturday.”
“Okay. I guess Saturday would be okay.”
Which still left me with today to fill. But that really wasn’t Wilbur’s problem.
We sat there awhile longer in the corner of the landing, and he didn’t pick up the book again. There was a beam of sunlight slanting down from a high window over our heads, and I watched bits of illuminated dust swirl in it.
“Do you like cats?” I asked after a time.
“I love cats. I used to have a cat. But my stepfather gave her away.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
My problems didn’t seem so big compared to that. So I wasn’t sure whether to say more or not.
“Why do you ask?”
“Oh. I guess I just wanted to talk to somebody because my cat is sick.”
“Is he gonna be okay?”
“Not sure yet.”
“I’m sorry.”
We sat awhile longer. I watched dust swirl. Thinking it was probably always swirling like that. Everywhere. I just didn’t usually see it so clearly.
Then Wilbur said, “If there’s anything I can do …”
I was able to think of something immediately.
* * *
Wilbur and I walked all the way to the vet’s office after school. I thought it would be better to walk. Like it would calm me down and tire me out and make it easier to be there.
Or maybe I just wanted to get there as slowly as possible.
I purposely didn’t call ahead because I was scared of what they’d tell me. My gut felt like there must be bad news, and it would be better if I didn’t know.
The woman
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