salience
October 12, 2002
It's 12:56 pm and I just woke up. And it's the second Saturday of a three Saturday weekend. You know, one of those three day weekends we have because of Columbus Day... and Friday, Saturday, and Sunday all feel like Saturdays. But I am not happy. I am exhausted. My subconscious made my soul go through the entire emotional spectrum over a period of eight and a half hours.
First, there was a flashback to Milton. Good ol' Milton High School in Alpharetta (no, not Alfredo), Georgia. I was walking in the building, right past the guidance office, past a hallway that went right, past Senora Rodriguez's room, past another hallway that turned right, and then I saw him. Matt Wensing was talking to a group of people, as if he knew them, right outside Mrs. Crockett's room. I felt happy because I saw Matt Wensing...
[ Wensing is a kid who is from Chicago; he came to BC last year as a sophomore after a year at UChicago. He said he wanted more of a night life experience, more culture than just studying his ass off, so he came to BC. He played sax in the marching band, and from the first day of Rookie Camp we were instant friends. We had so much to talk about: music, politics, the military, and languages. He speaks Spanish, so we would kind of isolate ourselves from the rest of the band group and just talk and talk and talk. He was the only guy who was cool enough to wear one of my stars last year, proudly no less. :) He and I have the same kind of humor, and what not. Both being in marching band, we spent a great block of time together. One weekend he wanted to cook for our group (being him, Allie, Jones, and me) so we all went back to his apartment off campus after the game on Saturday--because he was a transfer he didn't get housing. We cooked and and he sang Sinatra and we had a great time. We had rented Robin Hood: Men in Tights and even had bought Ben & Jerry's. Jones and Allie fell asleep and he and I stayed up talking, and listening to music til about 5 in the morning. Everyone thought something was going on between the two of us, but we both had relationships with other people. He and I were just two of the same in many repsects, and I think it is hard for people to understand that. He went back to UChicago for spring semester. And yeah... so many stories with him... I miss him. When he went back, he threw himself into school... and he's graduating this spring. And yay! Finally getting married to Skye in the summer. Good for him. :) I really do miss him, and this year there have been many times when I'm with the marching kids, and I stop and think, man, I wish he was here. ::sigh:: ]
...I kept walking, for some reason, it didn't fully register that it was Wensing, and I felt something brush my arm, and it was him. So I hugged him and it was great! He and I could say so much without saying anything.
Then my dream shifted to my familia. We were waiting for a van, and everything was very eerie and hush hush. My dad was trying to act like everything was just okay and there was nothing awkward going on. It was very military meets familia for me: some kind of mission that was dangerous enough to include them. My dad and I were trying to get my familia from one place to another, and the only way to do that was to board these white vans that eventually showed up. The familia all climbed into one, and I remember watching the other van behind us, and there were these two eyes looking at me. Someone was on the top of the van, obviously hiding, and not wanting to be noticed. We get to some dock, and it's dark and misty, and my dad hurries us to a boat. It was a shrimping boat, and we were told to be silent and to stay all on one side. My dad and the guys in the other van were waiting for something to happen; they went down into the lower deck, and these other guys bust out and surprise us all. They take all of us captive and say if we move or talk we will be shot. My dad is separated from us, and my heart is in my throat. I know something is about to happen that I cannot stop. I can feel there is more going on than I know, and suddenly I see my dad in a light I had never thought of before. Is it drugs? immigrants? what? I hear Carmen gasp and I see all of these black widows coming up from the lower deck. They are all around our feet and then I notice blood among the spiders. And then I realize it's Carmen's blood, my baby's blood. She has been shot and I shift my gaze just in time to catch her as she falls towards me, no life left in her body. A guy tells us to back up, and we do, against a wall, me in front, dragging Carmen's body. And I am crying now, and through my tears I see my brother fall, dead. The black widows have gotten him. And I'm crying still. I am on the floor of the boat, in the middle of the dead bodies of my babies. Melinda is behind me crying, holding onto me. I look forward, I see my dad looking at me, and he is so sad. I look to my left and my mom is against the wall, crying...or is it laughing? All I know is we are all going to die, and I hope I am the next to go. I want to run towards these men and hurt them so badly, to mutilate them, until they feel as terrible as I do. I am covered in the blood of my familia and I want their blood next.
I wake up crying. I realize it is not real, and no matter how many times I repeat this to myself, I am horrified still by all of the blood, all of the death. It's not real, it didn't happen, I keep repeating in my mind, but I am still short of breath and my heart is still racing.
First, there was a flashback to Milton. Good ol' Milton High School in Alpharetta (no, not Alfredo), Georgia. I was walking in the building, right past the guidance office, past a hallway that went right, past Senora Rodriguez's room, past another hallway that turned right, and then I saw him. Matt Wensing was talking to a group of people, as if he knew them, right outside Mrs. Crockett's room. I felt happy because I saw Matt Wensing...
[ Wensing is a kid who is from Chicago; he came to BC last year as a sophomore after a year at UChicago. He said he wanted more of a night life experience, more culture than just studying his ass off, so he came to BC. He played sax in the marching band, and from the first day of Rookie Camp we were instant friends. We had so much to talk about: music, politics, the military, and languages. He speaks Spanish, so we would kind of isolate ourselves from the rest of the band group and just talk and talk and talk. He was the only guy who was cool enough to wear one of my stars last year, proudly no less. :) He and I have the same kind of humor, and what not. Both being in marching band, we spent a great block of time together. One weekend he wanted to cook for our group (being him, Allie, Jones, and me) so we all went back to his apartment off campus after the game on Saturday--because he was a transfer he didn't get housing. We cooked and and he sang Sinatra and we had a great time. We had rented Robin Hood: Men in Tights and even had bought Ben & Jerry's. Jones and Allie fell asleep and he and I stayed up talking, and listening to music til about 5 in the morning. Everyone thought something was going on between the two of us, but we both had relationships with other people. He and I were just two of the same in many repsects, and I think it is hard for people to understand that. He went back to UChicago for spring semester. And yeah... so many stories with him... I miss him. When he went back, he threw himself into school... and he's graduating this spring. And yay! Finally getting married to Skye in the summer. Good for him. :) I really do miss him, and this year there have been many times when I'm with the marching kids, and I stop and think, man, I wish he was here. ::sigh:: ]
...I kept walking, for some reason, it didn't fully register that it was Wensing, and I felt something brush my arm, and it was him. So I hugged him and it was great! He and I could say so much without saying anything.
Then my dream shifted to my familia. We were waiting for a van, and everything was very eerie and hush hush. My dad was trying to act like everything was just okay and there was nothing awkward going on. It was very military meets familia for me: some kind of mission that was dangerous enough to include them. My dad and I were trying to get my familia from one place to another, and the only way to do that was to board these white vans that eventually showed up. The familia all climbed into one, and I remember watching the other van behind us, and there were these two eyes looking at me. Someone was on the top of the van, obviously hiding, and not wanting to be noticed. We get to some dock, and it's dark and misty, and my dad hurries us to a boat. It was a shrimping boat, and we were told to be silent and to stay all on one side. My dad and the guys in the other van were waiting for something to happen; they went down into the lower deck, and these other guys bust out and surprise us all. They take all of us captive and say if we move or talk we will be shot. My dad is separated from us, and my heart is in my throat. I know something is about to happen that I cannot stop. I can feel there is more going on than I know, and suddenly I see my dad in a light I had never thought of before. Is it drugs? immigrants? what? I hear Carmen gasp and I see all of these black widows coming up from the lower deck. They are all around our feet and then I notice blood among the spiders. And then I realize it's Carmen's blood, my baby's blood. She has been shot and I shift my gaze just in time to catch her as she falls towards me, no life left in her body. A guy tells us to back up, and we do, against a wall, me in front, dragging Carmen's body. And I am crying now, and through my tears I see my brother fall, dead. The black widows have gotten him. And I'm crying still. I am on the floor of the boat, in the middle of the dead bodies of my babies. Melinda is behind me crying, holding onto me. I look forward, I see my dad looking at me, and he is so sad. I look to my left and my mom is against the wall, crying...or is it laughing? All I know is we are all going to die, and I hope I am the next to go. I want to run towards these men and hurt them so badly, to mutilate them, until they feel as terrible as I do. I am covered in the blood of my familia and I want their blood next.
I wake up crying. I realize it is not real, and no matter how many times I repeat this to myself, I am horrified still by all of the blood, all of the death. It's not real, it didn't happen, I keep repeating in my mind, but I am still short of breath and my heart is still racing.
lasaliente, 14:44
