On An Evergreen Hill

On An Evergreen Hill

The din of the airport terminal gave her a rush of electric energy as she sat waiting for her flight. Between doom scrolling and refreshing feeds, she couldn’t help compulsively checking her messages. Anticipating that notification pop up was driving her crazy. She felt a little embarrassed and childish at her eagerness. As she was about to close her phone and take a break -- ding ding -- the chime went off. The air around her tingled with electricity, like that same excitement you get as a teenager with your first love. She took a breath, then opened the message.

I’m so excited to see you! That’s definitely happening!

There’s a ton of stuff to do out here, so we have options. LOL

Her heart had skipped a beat. But now, a little muted; the benefit of life experience tamping down those wild and unruly expectations we all had in our youth, calmed and left to simmer in a more age appropriate way. She smiled to herself.

Great! As long as we get to hang out. I don’t care what we do!

I just want to see you. It’s been a minute after all. LOL

It had been 15 years. Fifteen years of oblivious college rendezvous, sporadic contact, social media flirting, and the odd DM when hearts were broken and the pull of “what could’ve been” swelled. They had known each other and yet knew nothing about each other. It was an odd reality that many found themselves in these days regarding relationships.

About to board, I’ll TTYL!

Well, here we go...

Seattle felt like, and was very much, a lifetime away.. What was she hoping to recoup by going back to her old stomping ground? The thrill and wild chaos of those fevered nights running around the U District, bus hopping and ending up at a random apartment on Capitol Hill? Drinking and talking until the wee hours of the morning? Throwing up and rallying for work and school, only to do it all over again that evening? For her, it was all about that lost sense of spontaneous adventure. And a week to recapture even a taste of that feeling was something her parched soul desperately needed.

Stepping through the doors of SEA-TAC Baggage Claim, her well-traveled red suitcase in tow, she scanned the pick-up line for her buddy Jim. She had known Jim for more years than either of them would care to admit at this point. They met in their 20s while working at Dick’s Drive In down in lower Queen Anne. Food service has a way of bonding people to one another. Mainly...because of all the shared turmoil and trauma.

Jim was kind enough to play host to his friend’s midlife crisis.She caught sight of him just as she was about to text. It had been a year and a pandemic since she’d seen him last. He looked much healthier, and more himself. A brief hug and a luggage toss, then they were off -- speeding down those highways which held so much time, and memories which were only feelings at this point.

She took a deep breath. There had always been an emptiness to Washington state; it had always bothered her when she was younger. Now, it was a welcomed discomfort. Time has a funny way of making even a painful loneliness into some kind of weird endearing sensation to be missed.

“Welcome to Kent, WA!” Jim proclaimed as the car jostled over some train tracks. “It’s still a shit hole!” Laughing as he sped through a somewhat depressed looking area. Catching every green light, winding ever up into the tree covered hills.

“It’s about how I remember most of it, I think,” she said, laughing. Jim smiled, his eyes never looking away from the road. Glancing ahead, she saw why. She had forgotten how large and steep the hills were in this state. And she had walked many of those brutal hills. Often. Memory is wild.

“The apartment’s just up there,” Jim said, flicking his chin towards the BIG hill they were about to climb as they sat in the suicide lane. “It really sucks, especially when it snows.” She nodded solemnly in agreement as the car roared to life, catching a break in the flow of traffic. As they ascended, she could feel that rush of restless chaos rise in her.. She was back.

Hey, I’m running late. But I will be there! I am so sorry!

She sighed at the message, but it is what it is. We are all full blown adults, after all. Inescapable adulthood. Exacerbated by the ever decaying notion of the American Dream.

No problem! Sorry work is going crazy! Take your time and I’ll see you soon!

I am so excited!

Sent.

Awesome! Thank you! I will see you soon!

As she sat, simmering in her excitement, she took pause to notice her surroundings. She always made it a point to really observe and note the little things about a place -- from the woman cooking naan on her patio to the volunteer yellow marigolds that were growing up from the parking lot cracks. She found this not only helped her re-center herself, but to also keep herself in the moment. As she stood lost in thought about how those marigolds had come to be, she failed to notice Chris pull up -- which was laughable, in hindsight, because his car was a bright flashy orange.

“Hey you!” A familiar voice called out with such force, she felt herself almost fall back into her own body. She could feel her ears flush with that warmth; a warmth that once you’ve felt it, you will never forget it.

There he was, in the flesh, after 15 weird long years. Still as boyishly handsome as ever, with that stupid panty-dropping grin that effortlessly grew into one of the best smiles she had ever seen. What a jerk.

“You ready!? Also, hey, where’s my hug??”

She had tried to coolly walk over to him, but before she knew it she was taking a running jump into those strange yet familiar arms. Holy hell, he still smells amazing. His warmth, the sun. This moment consumed her. She felt like she was sinking. She could hear him breathe her in as well. He always did have a knack for making you feel special.

Yet all the while, a nagging sense of foreboding swirled through that dopamine rush, leaving a lingering bitterness that made you wonder if you were actually being poisoned. He set her back down, on solid ground. She glanced up into those blue-green eyes that always made her melt with embarrassment. Attractive people are scary.

With all the warmth of the moment in his voice (and that damned smile), he asked “You ready?” She sheepishly nodded, and his smile widened. “Good, you better be.” Putting his sunglasses back on. Following those winding roads of her youth, that gorgeous Northwest chaos. That fiery ice and adrenaline coursing through her veins...

This was going to end badly; nothing that felt this good ever ended happily or with grace. She clenched her teeth a little as she looked hard at the cliff’s edge that was inevitable. However, with open eyes she decided to fully embrace that hard, unforgiving, and assuredly devastating landing.

As they drove, they slipped through green light after green light, as though the powers that be were hitting fast forward so they could get to the cliff scene faster. They spoke about life in that semi-frantic and excitable way people do when there’s attraction and a lot of catching up to do. Towns and fields slipped by at an alarming rate, almost as though the world was melting off a watercolor left unfinished in the rain.

She needed a moment to re-center herself. A turkey vulture casually cruised by the rural summer traffic and, as she gazed at the large bird, her thoughts again returned to that landing.

Well, at least nothing will go to waste once she was discarded. Small comforts. Her gruesome ruminations, interrupted.

“Oh wow! It’s like a hawk or an eagle!”

What?

“Oh no, it’s actually a turkey vulture. It’s got a red head.” Chris paused, then without missing a beat, stated: “No, I’m pretty sure it’s an eagle.”

She gave this exchange a moment to sit. He probably doesn’t know, or remember, that she previously worked as a veterinary technician for almost a decade. He also probably doesn't know anything about her time working at the zoo back home. All that aside, she didn’t want to be corrected, especially when he was so confidently incorrect. “No, it’s a vulture.”

Yep, being poisoned.

“Hmm, well...anyway are you excited to go swimming?” he asked, his voice lifting in tone as he moved away from our disagreement.

Definitely poisoned.

“Yep! So ready! It’s going to feel stupid amazing!!” After years of not really living near water, this experience was kind of a big deal for her. While they sat at the stoplight waiting to turn into a grocery store lot, his cheeky grin returned as he enjoyed her enthusiasm and goofy excitement. He’s doing it again. She felt herself getting more and more swept away. She couldn’t even see the cliff any more, let alone the ground.

This. Will. Hurt. You.

Parking quickly, he stepped out and walked to open her door -- only to be a few seconds short. The ground looked a little closer now. Next time, she thought, and laughed to herself. She certainly wouldn’t be the “next time”. For her, there would probably never be a next time.

Oh, there’s the cliff. Glad to see it hasn’t moved.

As they entered the store, she could feel and see the full effect he had on women. Heads were turning. He’s very handsome and stupidly charming; she will give him that. It continued to work like magic on her soon to be off-a-cliff ass.

As he rushed from aisle to aisle gathering groceries she couldn’t help but feel almost privileged; at the very least she’d be the one who got to hang out and leave with him. Even if that meant all the aforementioned doom.

She had wanted the chaos of her youth and she got it. She laughed to herself as they left the store. She felt both seen and invisible at the same time. There was that weird loneliness that had always haunted her, even now. Did she really miss this specter as much as she had thought? She did not.

Chris felt the same way -- so close, yet so far. A phantom. She felt so important, but in the most painful and fleeting of ways. She needed that promised water; she needed to no longer be caught in this car with him. Shit was getting dangerous.

After some brief and blessedly distracting directional confusion, they arrived. That impending sense of disposability... that signature bitter taste she had licked away at the store was calmed as they finally made it to the water’s edge. It was more beautiful than she could have imagined. The living allegory of the bucolic longing of yesteryear.

She was so lost in the scene that she didn’t even notice him shifting around her. His scent wrapped around her in an embrace of relief and years of yearning. This hug astonished her; had hugs always been this burdensome?

There was a pause, and for the first time since they reconnected, she looked him dead in the eyes. No flirtatious banter, no bluster. They were beautiful, blue, complicated, searching and sad. He was heading towards his own cliff, and knowing that was somehow comforting. We all die alone, but at least we all die.

“Let's swim!” she chirped, smiling with the weird warmth this exchange had given her. He smiled back, almost like a child being told they could open one present on Christmas Eve. They dove into the cool promised water.

She felt cleansed. The cold weightlessness of the water around her, the stillness, and the sound of osprey diving for their dinner... If she died in the enormity of this moment, she would have no regrets. This day had been true perfection.

She had already hit the bottom of the cliff, she knew that. Mangled and poisoned, but alive. Her death would be a slow one.

Fuck.

The light faded, sinking down behind the pines as the air cooled and the dreaminess of dusk set in. Chris’ mood had shifted; he had softened considerably.

“You hungry? I want to show you this neat town nearby.” She wondered where on his cliff he was. Their day together was slipping away as quickly as the light. “Can’t wait.” She could feel the pain from her injuries seeping in as they got back into his car and drove to dinner.

Fuck.

“You look beautiful by the way. I just really...really wanted you to know that…” She could hear the wistful smile in his voice. Like he too, had hit the cliff’s bottom and lay dying next to her, seeing her from the corner of his mangled eye.

Fuck.

She couldn’t tell which way was up anymore. With every compliment and smile he flashed she could feel her heart leaking. Her own escaping blood warmed her as she continued to wait, bleeding through their picturesque dinner while she gasped for air through their conversations. She could feel her bones breaking with each step they took back to that damn car.

She could feel herself finally succumbing to her injuries. She knew she wasn’t going to be that lucky survivor. She lay there, staring into the chaos of the wind she had a hand in whipping up. Dirt clung to her sticky, broken, and bloodied body; her vision finally darkened.

She reminisced.

This was the Washington she remembered. This was that pain and brutal emptiness she had made a part of herself all those years ago.

Seen yet invisible, cherished yet disposable.

She was -- and always had been -- as full and as empty as those midnight forests that slipped by her window silently.