Fading Memories by yukonnights,yukonnights

“Okay Jase, I trust you and it would be good to get away for awhile.”

I’m sorta stunned — she seemed so adamant, “Micky, you’ve saved my holiday and I swear on my mother’s bible that I have no intentions of breaking our friendship. All you’ll have to do is pack some warm outdoor gear, your swimsuit and Sorel boots if you have them.”

I know his words are meant to make me feel better — they only remind me that I’m the crippled girl — the girl who never gets asked on a date — not until the first option rejects him. I feel my eyes betray me — then the feeling of tears running down my cheeks. His words pull me back ….

“Michele, what’s wrong — did I say something?”

“It’s nothing — just thinking about my mother. She’s gone now — just thinking — you know?”

‘Yeh, I understand. What you say we get out’a here, it’s too loud and I’m not feeling it here.”

We both get off the bar stools — I use my cane to get stabilized on both feet — Jase offers an arm and I take it. Once we get moving I do better and soon we’re outside on a cold Colorado winter night. His words once again push my thoughts away.

“Have you eaten anything? Did you drive your car down here tonight?”

“No, Leslie dropped me off, why?”

“Just wondering if you wanted to drive your car back to the dorms up at the Fort before we go get something to eat. But since it’s not here, I’ll drive you back up to the college later. Now, let’s go grab something to eat. I know a good little cafe that’s a lot quieter than back there. I’ll drop you off at your place after.”

As we eat our late night breakfast, we share more about ourselves, what she’s studying, what I’m studying and what we think of Fort Lewis College. Our friendship has pretty much just been as classmates, she’s always been the nicest person in any of the study groups. Already I’m feeling happy about finding out about the real Shelia before I had really dug my grave. And already I’m becoming very interested in a girl named Micky.

*****

Scene Two: Our Journey Begins — Into The Mountains, Taking A Chance On Each Other

It’s a perfect winter day. The clouds have blown away, taking the falling snow with them — leaving a beautiful clean topping on everything. Looks just like fluffy cake icing on a very large panorama of mountains and forests. As I drive my old Jeep north through the Hermosa Valley, Micky rummages through my cassette tape collection. Turns out we both jumped on the Hippie train back in high-school — and I’d just upgraded my player to the latest and greatest — to include better speakers too. I steal glances at her, relieved that she seems to be glad that she came along.

“Let’s play this one,” she says as she pops the disk in.

John Denver’s voice joins us as we drive along. “Good choice, perfect day for his songs.” We drive along just listening to the music and to me it’s like we’re driving through a winter wonderland — it’s all just too beautiful to even describe. Even being born and raised here doesn’t take away from it — the land is ever changing from the green grass of spring and summer in the mountain valleys and basins in the lower hills — the ragged grey cliffs of bald rock on the west side of the road beckon to the adventurous to take a gamble, take the risk to conquer me if you dare. Then the Fall gives us all the grand finale with the golden leaves of the Aspen waving in the breeze — as if bidding farewell to another summer. But above all, looking down from towering heights, the kings, the queens, the princes and princesses of the Rockies stand as they’ve stood for millions of years.

“You know, we really should drive up to Silverton while we’re here. I love seeing Engineer Peak in the winter — it’ll extend our road trip and we can look at the art and stuff.”

“I’ve never been that far, so sounds like fun to me.”

“You’ve lived here your whole life and haven’t been up here exploring?”

“My family doesn’t live here. I’m from Farmington down in New Mexico — my family has lived there since before my parents were children.”

“Well, I didn’t know that but it’s even more reason to make a trip north part of our outing. What do your folks do in Farmington?”

“The family has owned the hardware store there since before I was born. They just always wanted me to go to college, and that’s why I’m here. It was my mother who persuaded my father that I should get more education. She’s no longer living though. I think my brothers will take over the store when Papa can’t do it.”

“Wow, I’m sorry to bring up sad memories. She sounds like a smart woman to convince your father that an education is what will set you up to take care of yourself. I wish I could have met her, and thank them for sending you up here, hope I can meet your family some day.”

“I’ve been through Farmington, but never spent much time there. What do the people there think about you being into the hippie stuff?”

“I don’t flaunt it much when I’m there — there aren’t many hippies there and some of the people are outright opposed to the whole idea of the ones demanding peace and an end to the war. It’s better here, especially at school. I guess I’m an undercover hippie when I’m down there.”

“Wow, I’ve sort of known you for awhile but it turns out I didn’t really know you much at all.”

I’m not sure if he likes what he now knows or not — most white guys don’t mingle, at least they don’t mingle with me. “Really neither of us knows much about the other. But I like you for a friend.” — perhaps I should have said a good friend?

“Micky, the more we talk and the more I get to know you better — well, I’m super happy you like me because I really like your vibe and stuff. I hope our friendship hangs around a long time.”

“I should have said that I like you as a good friend too. I don’t have many friends here yet. You maybe think I’m pretty wild coming up here and sharing your room — but I’m not so wild, not like the real hippies.”

“I told you before, I’m not like that. You’re as safe with me as you would be with your mother — promise. And after we go back to Durango you can tell people you had a wild time up at Purgatory if you want.”

“I could never do that … even if I did who’d believe me. How wild can a crippled girl be anyway? I don’t think I would do that. It would just become the latest gossip.”

I hope I didn’t put my foot in my mouth again … “I was just teasing, trying to get you to smile I guess.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you were teasing — and now I look kinda stupid.”

“No, it was a stupid joke, I’m the dummy. Let’s forget all that cause we’re almost there.”

*****

Scene Three: Our Weekend In Purgatory — Will It Be Heaven or Hell

After finding our room and letting her in, I glance around to make sure the room is perfect. Seems it’s as advertised; on the west side with a view up the slopes as an unexpected bonus. The two beds are there just like I promised her. Now if we can both just relax and try to have fun. For me, the sexual tension is already trying to push to the forefront of my thoughts — I don’t know how to turn the thoughts off … even less of an idea of how to maybe turn hers on. I do know how to not pursue them though. As awkward as some of our time has been, I think it’s more of a cultural difference. Different places and different ethnicities — bound to make it harder to say the right things and avoid the wrong things. Been a pretty intense Valentine’s so far — first Shelia and now Michelle seems a little unsure. I don’t even know how to approach her — how to make her really know I can be her friend. Different upbringing, different lives … but I’m enchanted by her … it really does feel different than ever before. All I can do is be me — she has to like me as much as I like her if it’s to be more than friends. That’s what I’ll do … just be me.

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