"PAUL WESTERBERG"
PART ONE: THE BLIZZARD
TRACEY
While it all may sound completely
unrealistic and perhaps a tad too dramatic or even hyperbolic to some of you, I
didn’t think that I would ever make it to Spring Break! The past ten days have
been nothing short of relentless with three hefty papers in English, Comp Lit
and Philosophy all due within a day of each other and that feat was made
all the more difficult as I ran out of ink cartridges for my electric
typewriter—the very same ink cartridges University Book Store, either by chance
or design or just plain ol’ bad Karma, were completely sold out of! That
predicament then forced me to try and find absolutely anyone who quite possibly
had access to a car to take me to any local office supply store as I
just didn’t have the time or energy to try and decipher the Madison bus
schedules—a true disadvantage for me as I am from Chicago. Although, I will
more truthfully admit that my sense of direction is considerably weak and
dependent upon landmarks instead of street names and the four cardinal directions.
Granted, you could not be more surprised than me for actually placing myself
out onto the limb by admitting this character failing to you, especially as
this is a task mastered by countless individuals throughout the ages.
Embarrassing to be true. But this is indeed how I navigate the world.
Well, back to the story at hand, the “Ink
Cartridge Crisis Of 1989” was fully averted. A friend gave me a ride to an
office store where I did purchase exactly what was needed. And then, all three
papers were written, edited and typed to the best of my college sophomore
abilities. In regards to the Philosophy paper, in which I, Tracey Wolf, had to
debate nothing less than the verification of existence itself, I finished that
one two hours ago and turned it in about one hour ago, giving me just a scant
amount of time to pack my bag and grab enough tapes for the long bus ride home.
I have to also admit to you that I am a
guy who prefers to have ample time to ready myself for anything. I hate rushing
around for fear that I’ll forget the most necessary item, not to mention the
fact that I just find myself more agitated than I feel accustomed to being. But
even so, some things are just unavoidable. By the time it took for me to race
from Tripp Hall to the Union, the sky turned from sunshine to grey to finally,
all snow. As I walked past the line of buses on Langdon street and not seeing
my bus at all, I really began to fear that this trip home was not going to bode
well. So, I trudged up the Union steps, pounded the building snow off of my
shoes and settled myself down by a nearby wall in the front of the lobby. And
then, I began the arduous process of waiting.
HEATHER
The snowflakes looked like Mickey’s Dairy
Bar sized pancakes!! The snow was so heavy and wet that every impact landed
with a “THWAP” at first soaking the ground and then sticking to everything in
sight. I realize that weather in the
Midwest can be unpredictable and that it can still snow to even as late as
almost May but this freak storm blindsided me. I checked the news as I raced
through Pop’s Club for an orange juice and a hockey puck textured bagel and it
just said that it would be cold today. Not one word about snow, let alone what
was beginning to look like a blizzard. As I walked through Pop’s, I also
glanced at someone’s newspaper and pretty much read the exact same thing. There
was no mention whatsoever of snow at all for today and for the next several
days at that. But no matter, here it is and I have to meet my Dad at O’Hare in
a few hours. However, I think that is more than a little obvious now, that that
is not going to happen.
Once I got myself inside the Union and
ensured that none of the buses lined up outside were mine, I walked over to the
pay phones to try and call my Dad to tell him that I will most definitely be
late. Apparently, everyone else had similar ideas because the phones were all
being used. Oh well¼I needed to see how much
change I had anyway¼
TRACEY
OK¼so there’s
a three hour delay¼at least that’s according to
my Mom who just finished speaking to the good folks at Greyhound. Great! I hung
up the pay phone and looked at my watch. 2:15 p.m. That means my 2:30 p.m.
scheduled transportation won’t actually happen until around 5:30 p.m. at best,
by the looks of things outside. And then, there’s the actual bus ride to
deal with. One thing’s for sure, I’d better make sure that I have enough
batteries for my headphones. The worst
thing that can happen, on top of being forced to wait and wait for a bus due to
a blizzard, is to be unable to have any personal soundtrack at the ready solely
due to the misfortune of being saddled with dead batteries.
HEATHER
Oh shit! This is just what I was afraid
of! I don’t have any money! I guess that as I was rushing to get ready and
being surprised with the snow and being paranoid about missing my bus and
scrambling out of the door, I forgot to go to the Tyme machine to get money for
the trip. And, as I think about it now, I think my Tyme card is right where I
last saw it¼on the top of my desk in my room because I just
used it a couple of days ago to get some quick cash to buy laundry tickets to
wash the very clothes I’m taking for this trip. Oh God¼what am I
going to do? I mean—I could race back to Witte to get my card but if my bus
happens to show up then I’m screwed. But, let’s be real, there is no racing
around in a blizzard, even on foot. But if I don’t go, I won’t have any money.
OK¼just breathe and don’t freak out¼just
breathe and don’t freak out¼just breathe and¼No! Oh no¼just hold
it together...Heather, keep it together¼You’re
standing in the middle of Memorial Union, just keep it toge¼
“Um¼excuse me¼are you
OK?”
TRACEY
It’s really not in my nature to interfere
in anyone’s private, personal business. I know myself very, very well and
despite the most likely good intentions of others, it does, for some reason
that I have never been able to identify, bother me tremendously when strangers
try to step into my own troubles. I just hate it when people try to pick my
brain, possibly hoping to unearth something that is none of their business. If
I need help, I’ll ask for it and I’ll gladly tell you. If I don’t say anything,
regardless of how I may appear, then I’d prefer that you’d just walk on by.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I see myself as someone who is more than affable. I
have friends and can always find the space for more if they should come along.
I guess it’s just a pet peeve of mine when people try to get themselves
involved like I’m some lock they need to pry open with a bobby pin. And so, in
return, I tend to leave others alone. So, why in the world did I interfere
right now? I guess¼she just¼I don’t
know¼spoke to me.
“Um¼excuse me¼are you
OK?” I asked.
I recognized that look on her face as she
regarded me with an expression that floated between confusion and annoyance. I
recognized that look because it felt to be the mirror image of the exact look
that I have occasionally given to strangers. But, there was one difference. Her
face, even behind her glasses, was attempting to hold back crying, even though
some tears were beginning to show right at the corners of her eyes.
“Oh¼,” she
began, while trying not to look at me and her voice caught deeply inside some
pregnant pause. She raised her eyes to meet mine, the corners red and wet.
Instinctively, I reached into my coat pocket for some Kleenex which I
tentatively handed to her. The tissue, as well as my right hand seemed to hover
in space, completely independent of my arm as I waited for her to either accept
or refuse my gesture. I almost expected to see some tiny lines of fishing wire
holding it up. Then, she mustered up a hair of composure. She cleaned her
throat, her face softened as she finally answered, “¼no.”
“Do you need anything?”
HEATHER
God! This guy must find me to be
certifiable, crying in the middle of the Union lobby and apparently not able to
answer a simple question.
“Do you need anything?” he asked.
Another question?! Jesus, what is the
matter with me? It’s like there’s this obstruction inside of me that is
stopping the words that are forming in my brain from making their way to my
mouth. Just say the words. Say. The. Words. Get it together and say the words.
Tell him that you don’t have any money and that you need to call your Dad.
That’s all there is to it. Nothing more. Nothing complicated. Just look at him
and say the words.
“Um¼yes¼actually," I finally began. “I need to¼make a¼um¼phone call
to my¼Dad¼and I
don’t¼have any money. I mean—I have money but I
don’t have any with me. I forgot my Tyme card in my room because I was just
hurrying to get over here and the¼the snow,”
I explained, overly so and probably sounding like an unintelligible patient
from the local sanitarium. Oddly enough, he doesn’t seem to be looking at me
like I’m crazy. In fact, he looks concerned. Honestly concerned.
TRACEY
I don’t know what came over me to but she
disarmed me. It had to have been the tears. Something about seeing this girl
crying while trying not to cry just got to me. And having no money. That really
sucks. I guess that she’s alone as no one else is paying any attention to her,
and no one has even approached her other than me. So, I reached into my coat
pocket and I felt around and found an amount of change that would be good enough
for a couple of phone calls. “Take this,” I said as I handed her the money.
“Thank you,” she said, with a few soft
sniffles as she accepted the money. Her eyes shifted between my eyes and
directly behind me for a moment. “Uh¼a phone¼,” she
started, slightly pointing behind me.
“Oh!” I said as I looked in the direction
over my shoulder where she had gazed to see the bank of pay phones. “Yes, uh¼go catch
one while they’re free.”
She returned her eyes to mine for less
than a millisecond, flashing the tiniest of smiles to me. Wonder if I even imagined it as it was so
fleeting. And just as fleeting, she walked away from me towards the phones and
without another glance or even one solitary word.
HEATHER
Thank you, whoever you are.
TRACEY
I returned to my patch of land, as it
were, after making a quick trip to the Tyme machine. Looking outside, the snow
was falling heavier, faster and getting progressively deeper. From the looks of
the situation, my three hour delay was looking like it would be extended into a
three week delay. So, by this point, there was really not much else to
do but curl up for the duration. I took out my headphones, snapped in some XTC
and began to space.
HEATHER
I hung up the phone with my Dad. He said
that he would get himself to O’Hare and wait it out for me. So, all is well. He
knows what is happening with the buses and even though I am anxious to just get
going, I’m feeling much better. Calmer. Quieter inside. Since I’m going to be
here for a while, perhaps I can find that guy and really thank him properly,
especially since I waked away from him without saying anything. And if I can
find him, preferably I can string together a collection of words to form an
actual sentence or two.
TRACEY
I guess I fell asleep for a little bit.
While I don’t even remember ever feeling drowsy, I heard “King For A Day” in my
ears one moment and then, “Merely A Man” the next. Maybe thirty minutes or so
passed by. My eyes and mouth felt and tasted faintly of sleep and I automatically
pulled out a new piece of gum from my coat pocket. Once I began chewing and the
mint flavor shot through my synapses, thoroughly waking me up, I looked around
the Union to find even more kids setting up camp, presumably all waiting for
their buses, everyone thrown off by the blizzard.
Looking around the room, I spotted her—the
girl who needed pay phone money. She was rummaging through her backpack for
something or another when she suddenly looked up, caught my gaze and smiled.
This time, a full-fledged, wide faced smile. And again, she disarmed me.
His girl is no one that I had ever
expected to see again after she walked away from me and now that I have seen
her, I admittedly didn’t think that she would spot me or that I would even want
for her to do so. I also have to admit to you that when a girl smiles at me,
especially when it is unexpected, I just¼dissolve.
This girl is no exception. I’m taken in by how her eyes and nose crinkle behind
her glasses as she smiles and I am already wondering if she will smile at me
again¼and if I can even get her to smile one
more time.
Now, please let me assure you that I am
typically not that easily swayed, regardless of attractive girls smiling at me.
I don’t fall in love at first sight and as I already expressed to you, I’m not
one to even engage with strangers, pretty or not. It’s not that I’m
anti-social. I really just don’t want to be bothered if I’m alone and I just
think that if I give others a wide enough berth, people will afford me the very
same courtesy. But yes, she disarmed me.
Huh? She’s pointing to her ear. I wonder
what she’s¼oh¼she’s
making a motion with her hand by her ear¼oh¼she must
want me to take my headphones off.
HEATHER
“Hi!” I said, perhaps a little too loudly
after he took off his headphones. “I just wanted to come over and properly
thank you for earlier.”
“No worries,” he responded with a
dismissive wave of his hand. His face looks so¼kind. I
know that may sound a bit twee or facile but believe me, when you are on a
campus this big and with a myriad of testosterone fueled waves blazing through
the atmosphere, you tend to take notice of a person who does not immediately
fit into a certain profile, or even prejudice, I suppose. It could just be me and
the impressions that only carry any significance with my own social world view.
But all of that being said, his face seemed to be so kind and before I even
knew it, I had responded to him. And if I don’t say something quickly, I’m
gonna lose him and I am thinking that I don’t want that to happen just yet.
“I’m not usually like that,” I lied.
“Like what?” he asked, with a perplexed
look complete with arched eyebrows.
“Oh¼you know¼,” I
started shakily, “A young cosmopolitan woman standing openly distraught in the
middle of Memorial Union plagued with unintelligible speech and dissolving into
a puddle of tears over something as minuscule as not possessing pocket change
for a pay phone. That, I assure you, is not representative of my
personal style.” I have to say that when a bout of cleverness arrives, I grab
onto it with vigor. Just stay with me.
“Like I said,” he replied, with arms
outstretched amiably. “No worries and with that, no pre-conceived notions or
judgments. Just one person helping another. Besides, the snow caught everybody
off guard.”
“I’ll say,” I agreed although to my mind’s
ear, it sounded astoundingly lame. Let’s get this train back on the track. “Um¼if you
don’t mind me asking, where are you headed?”
“Chicago.”
“Really? Me too! Well, O’Hare actually.
I’m supposed to meet my Dad. We’re going to Colorado for my Grandmother’s 90th
birthday.”
“90?!” he exclaimed. “I think that I would
give almost anything to make it to 90.” His face then phased from a beam to one
that carried a more thoughtful gaze. “I mean—as long as I still had my wits
about me. I’d just hate to be hooked up to some machine or anything like that.
But, when you consider the alternative¼No
thanks!” He next made a grimace and then began to make one grand sweep with his
arms across the visa of the Union. “This is all I know, you know? I
don’t ever want to think of a time when I won’t know this anymore. When I won’t
hear music anymore. Or see the sky or even a freak blizzard.”
TRACEY
That’s morbid, isn’t it? But hey¼she didn’t
run away. She didn’t even take one step backwards. Even so, there was one thing
I conveniently omitted. I never, ever want to see a day where I could not be
graced by the vision of a pretty girl. I decided to keep that quiet as I was
afraid that she would respond to that statement as being nothing more than a
pathetic come-on line and just as quickly as she found me again, walk away
silently just as she did before. First impressions really are everything as I
wanted to make this one as good as it could possibly be.
HEATHER
Hmm¼this is a
guy that just swings for the fences right away, huh? Straight in to the deep
conversational topics and we don’t even know each other’s names yet. I have to
say that I kinda liked that. “I know what you mean,” I offered with existential
solidarity. “As far as I’m concerned, I’m planning to stick around until I’m
300! And even then, a few more lifetimes after that.” He chuckled quietly and
displayed a grin. “What’s so funny?” I asked.
“Oh, I’m just thinking about the dark turn
this has all taken and I really don’t want for you to gather the wrong impression
about me. I’m not and have never been an official card carrying member of the
“Doom And Gloom We Wear Nothing But Black” crowd,” he replied warmly.
“I hear that their monthly dues are
deathly,” I impulsively deadpanned. Ha Ha, by the way. “You know, I’m beginning to think that this is a little awkward.” I said those words with a mock seriousness, which I’m now seeing was not the best choice as his face elicited
a hint of disappointment. I had to rebound. “I mean—this,” I explained by
moving my hand back and forth, illustrating the physical space between us. “Some
shouting over the din of the Union just to be heard.”
“Oh!” he said, looking relieved.
“So, in light of this predicament, I offer
you a question. Would you mind if I joined you over there?” I asked pointing to
his space by the wall, as claimed by his resting baggage.
You know, I don’t often surprise myself. I
know myself too well. This time I surprised myself because this is not at all
like me.
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