What would you do if a Walkman landed at your door with instructions of a quest you must follow to reveal your secret admirer?
What if you didn't have the ability to connect and communicate with the world around you?
What if love came wrapped up in...
I met Francis when I was five years old. She had this alien-like quality, like she was from a different time. Different from all the other kids on the street. She never played or rode a bike or did hopscotch. She just sat there - and ate cookies. That's not to say that I was normal in any sense of the word, I looked like an old man in the body of a kid, but there was something about her that just pulled me closer.
I went over to her sitting on the sidewalk, but she didn't look up, didn't make eye contact. I stared down at her, I was blocking out the sun, so it was not like she had to shield her eyes from the rays.
I asked her if I could have some of her cookie and she sharply said, "No, it's mine." She had that confidence where she was totally and completely herself. Nothing or no one could influence her, in fact, she was oblivious to everything outside her bubble. I was envious. To be able to live like that where nothing could touch you, like being bulletproof. And yet, she still held a sadness in her eyes that I couldn't shake, it was stunningly haunting.
The next day, I badgered my Mom for cookies from the store. I went over to Francis again and offered her one. She took it and started eating. I said, "That's for sharing." She said she doesn't share cookies, and she got up and went inside. But at that point, I didn't care, because I'm pretty sure that's when I fell in love with her. And ever since that day - we've been inseparable.
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We live across the street from each other, we're best friends. I converted my basement into my bedroom. It's old, but that's how I like it. With walls full of books, a desk, comics, and movie posters on the walls. And you'd get the sense that it smells like mothballs, because it does. My Mom is always trying to sneak in scented candles, but that stuff gives Francis a headache. No matter how much my Mom tried to hide the candle, like a military-grade sniffer dog, Francis would find it. What can I say? The girl's got a gift. She calls it a curse, as she hates smells.
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And so for years we've hung out, we play board games, eat cookies, and watch movies, 80s teen movies are our favorite. We like to pretend we are living in one. And play chubby bunny to see who can fit as many marshmallows into their mouth as possible. But lately, something's been off, she's been different. Quieter. And so we sit on the couch. I offer up activities, more movies, cookies, chubby bunnies, cookies, roller skating, ice skating, listen to soft rock. But she rejects every one. I worry about her. But this story isn't really about me, it's about her.
