Why Aren't You Smiling? (8 page)

I felt severely exasperated. Danny's theories sort of made sense, but they also sounded like stuff he made up just to pop my balloon. “You can only learn so much through reading and talking,” I said evenly, in what I hoped was a sage voice. “Sometimes you have to learn by feeling and doing.”

Danny turned back to me with a quizzical look. “So what is it you want to feel and do?”

“It's not about what
I
want,” I ad-libbed. “You can't decide what the universe has in store for you. You gotta sit back and just let it happen.”

Danny shook his head. “Wrong. You're in charge of your life
and
your mind. Sounds like this guy Rick has been putting a lot of stupid crap in your head.”

“Nobody's putting anything in my head,” I snipped. “I can think for myself.” I made my voice calm again to deliver my next line. “I've chosen my path.”

“I thought you just said you had to let the universe decide your fate.” Danny appeared equally exasperated.

“Argument is the sport of fools,” I declared, marveling at my own powers of improvisation. “Truth doesn't always fit neatly in words.”

“I wanna meet this Rick,” grumbled Danny, looking like he wanted to pound his face in.

I made my own face as serene as I could, no easy task since I was infuriated (how dare Danny attribute all my newly minted cosmic bromides to Rick!). “He's actually someone I barely know. I've been hanging out by myself a lot lately, figuring things out. The Journey to Wisdom is lonely. I better go now, it's time for me to meditate.” I flashed what I hoped was a cosmically compassionate smile at Danny's still-perturbed face as I rose to leave the room. “Peace.”

I was enjoying a late night ramble in the hills when I came upon a park consisting of a grassy glade the size of a football field encircled by woods. Lured by the absence of streetlamps (odious reminders of humanity's relentless encroachment on nature), I wandered into the middle of the clearing and lay down on the ground. As I inhaled the lovely smell of recently mowed grass, I gazed up into the darkened night sky. There were no clouds and only a couple of stars were visible, but a gorgeous orange halo hung around the moon. I got shivers contemplating the universe. Endless, endless, endless. Love could be infinite, but could it account for the mystery of existence? How could Love create a universe? Maybe there was a God who wasn't quite the same thing as Love. Someday I'd ask Rick.

I held my hand up next to the moon and played tricks with perspective by closing and opening one eye. So close, so far, so close, so far. When this grew tiresome, I got up to follow a narrow dirt path into the surrounding forest. Under the canopy of leaves I lost sight of the street and imagined myself in a wilderness unspoiled by civilization, a car-less, city-less wonder-world of natural harmony. There, I was not Unpopular and Alone, but enjoying the spiritually cleansing isolation of Solitude.

As I hiked along the path, I saw a couple of small lights floating mysteriously in the dark a few yards ahead of me. Fireflies? Faeries? Very small UFOs? Then one of the lights went out and I heard some teenage laughter. “Halt! Who goes there?” asked a male voice that I judged as belonging to someone about my age, though it was a little hard to tell through the faux-Shakespearean staginess.“ 'Tis I, Leonard,” I replied in the same affected, stentorian tone.

“Come forth that we may see you!” demanded the voice. I walked toward the tiny light and saw five shadowy figures. As my eyes adjusted to the gloom, I saw that the speaker was a Burnout named Dewey, a tall kid with shaggy hair who always wore a goofy grin. Also present were Tracey and Vicki, an inseparable pair of nearly identical Burnout girls, an Iranian exchange student named Sami, and (thank goodness because I'd never spoken to any of these other kids before) Kai. They all sat or leaned on a pair of tree logs that had fallen in a near perpendicular fashion and created a natural lounging area. Sami held out the source of the light, a joint. “Care to partake?”

“Thanks,” I said. I took the joint and made a little sucky noise on it without inhaling and handed it back. Sami sent it on its way around the circle.

“Who're you?” asked Vicki, who should have remembered me from a math class we shared the previous year.

“It's Leonard!” said Kai, as if I should be recognized right away.

“What brings you to the forest tonight?” asked Tracey with a giggle. Dewey had his arm around her.

“Just walking.”

“How come you were lying down in the middle of the field?” asked Vicki with a tinge of suspicion. “We saw you through the trees.”

“Wanted to see the moon,” I shrugged, wishing I had a better answer.

“Clearly someone was already stoned!” laughed Kai.

“I'm cold,” said Tracey, who wore only a Mexican peasant blouse.

“You want my jacket?” asked Dewey.

Tracey shook her head and rubbed her arms. “No, I want to get out of these creepy woods.”

Dewey stood up. “OK, amigos, what next?”

Kai jumped up and clapped his hands together. “Joyride!” Everyone leapt to their feet. I followed Kai as he led the way out of the trees and onto the street.

“Superfly, the only game you know is do or die,” sang Dewey, doing a poor imitation of Curtis Mayfield's incredible falsetto.

“I could absolutely eat an entire ham sandwich right now,” said Vicki.

“Munchieees,” laughed Tracey.

“Free ride… take it eas-aaaay!” sang Kai, giving an imaginary guitar a heavy thrash.

“Bruce Lee!” cried Sami, giving the air in front of him several swift karate chops then expertly turning to inflict a sideways kick on his invisible adversary.

I felt like I needed to say something, to be part of the group. Instinctively I knew to avoid TV, current events, or homework… Dweeb subjects. “You think the woods around here ever had any sprites or pixies or anything living in them?”

“Man, you might wanna think about cutting back on the weed!” said Sami.

“I am an elf,” squeaked Vicki. Everyone laughed.

I was emboldened to go on. “There are legends of Little Folk in every culture, leprechauns, brownies, or whatever. I suspect there was probably a race of small humanoids who got driven extinct by homo sapiens.”

“No archeological evidence to support your thesis,” contradicted Dewey. “Ergo, no Little Folk.”

“In Iran, we have peris,” said Sami. “Little tree fairies descended from fallen angels.”

“I'm a munchkin!” baby-voiced Vicki. Only Tracey laughed this time.

“Zingo!” cried Kai, pointing to the fenced-in, toy-strewn backyard of a darkened house. He ran up to the gate and let himself inside. Some internal morality alarm rang in my head. Trespassing didn't really hurt anyone, but it was disrespectful.

Dewey shook his head and grinned. “When will the good citizens of America learn the value of locks?”

Kai emerged holding a plastic tricycle with a hugely enlarged front wheel.

“Big Wheel!” screamed Tracey.

“Go ahead and wake up the whole neighborhood,” muttered Dewey. “I've always wanted to see what it's like in reform school.”

Kai climbed on, and though he was on the short side, he was still large enough to look sort of clownish as zipped along on the tiny bike. Everyone, me included, cracked up. Then Kai let out a mighty “Wheeeee!” and he was no longer funny but free! We were on a street with a mild slope and he built up to a pretty good speed as he pedaled down it, his long, black hair flying behind him. We all ran after. Sami and Dewey and Tracey and Vicki were calling out, “Me next, me next!” but I was dumbstruck. This was burglary, and by staying mute (and there was no chance I'd turn in my new – and only – friends), I was an accessory after the fact!

Two blocks later, Kai came to a screeching halt, smashing into a border shrub. He got up and offered the bike to Vicki with a gentlemanly flourish of his hand. “Thanks, Kai,” said Vicki, her voice reeking of sexual flirtation. Kai just smiled and Vicki began riding the bike in circles.

“Will it go round in circles,” sang Dewey.

“Will it fly high like a bird up in the sky,” continued Tracey.

“Da nah nah, da nah nah nah nah,” added Sami, filling in the horn section.

“Do you do this often? Have you ever got caught?” I asked no one in particular.

“Oink, oink!” laughed Kai. “I hear the police coming!”

“Cheese it, the fuzz!” stage-whispered Dewey, imitating some old movie.

Sami mimed the act of spraying us with gunfire. “Batatatatat!”

“Death to the fascist insect!” yelled Tracey, pretending to shoot back.

I racked my brain for something that would fit into this sequence, but failed, and so remained silent as Vicki let out a “Wheee!”

A man's voice bellowed out of a second story window. “Pipe down out there! There are children trying to sleep!” This led to several moments of uncontrollable mirth. Everyone could not stop giggling, being stoned and all. “I'm calling the cops!” came a female voice from the same window. Everyone snapped out of their giggle fit and simultaneously sprinted off, leaving the Big Wheel abandoned in the middle of the street. I followed, though I had to huff and puff to keep up. After a minute this became fun and I melted into the moment, linking telepathically to the teenage herd mind that was directing us.

Left! Right! Cut through the yard. Dead ahead! Over the traffic barrier! Right! Everyone knew which way to turn without anyone saying. We ran and ran, panting and laughing, laughing, laughing because we were teenagers and we were out of control and our parents didn't know where the Hell we were! We ran past a construction site in the road surrounded by bright orange sandwich boards.

“Whoo! Whoo!” screamed Dewey as he knocked one over producing a
bam!
that I was sure could be heard all the way to the police department downtown.

“Whoo!” screamed Kai as he did the same.

“Whee!” screamed Tracey as she hit the last one. All this was hilarious and dangerous, and we ran and ran and ran until we arrived at a bus stop bench and collapsed on it in a fit of giggles and gasping.

As I regained my composure, I felt a wave of exhilaration (I had friends!) and shame (they were juvenile delinquents!). I loved being with them, but didn't know why. What was so fun about running and petty vandalism? As I sat catching my breath and thinking these thoughts, a girl came out of a corner store halfway down the block and started walking toward us.

“Hey,” said the girl, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket.

“They let you buy those in there?” Dewey raised an eyebrow.

“No, but I don't let that stop me,” said the girl with a sinister smile. I recognized her as Sarah, a girl I'd had in my homeroom a few years ago. Back then she'd been just another kid, now she wore make-up (cherry lip-gloss, blue eye shadow, thick black mascara), and had a way of slouching that made her look womanly.

“Hey, Sarah,” I said, like I see her all the time.

“Leonard?”

“Cool, you two know each other,” Sami said approvingly.

“Had Mrs. Oslander for homeroom together,” explained Sarah. She turned to everyone on the bench. “Hey all.”

Everyone said “Hey”' back. Then we all stood up and walked slowly down a side street. Sarah did, too. I couldn't get over the teenage telepathy that allowed us to act in unison without words. So cool! We reached a low cement wall surrounding an office building and lit upon it like a flock of birds. Then, we commenced to loiter.

Dewey turned to Sarah. “Can I bum a cig?”

Sarah wordlessly held out the pack. Soon, everyone was smoking except Tracey and me, though Sami gave it up after one puff, pronouncing the practice “most foul.”

The streetlight nearest us went out for no reason and suddenly the night was dark and sexy. Everyone calmed down and spoke in whispers about how much they hated school. “The teachers are all losers,” said Dewey. “Mr. Felker, he belongs in San Fag-sisco.”

“I got detention for nothing,” whined Vicki. “For
talking”

“Everything they're teaching us is lies anyway,” added Kai. “My dad says America is the most bourgeois country in the
world”
We all looked at him, not sure if it was cool that he brought his father into our sacred teenage space.

“We should all drop out, all at once,” said Tracey. Dewey put his arm around her.

Then, with a world-weariness I found exquisitely sophisticated, Sarah sighed, “They're not trying to teach us at school, they're
indoctrinating
us to join the workforce and have families.”

I took this as my cue. “Yeah, they've been blinded by materialism and conformity. I know that's not the Answer, but what is? What's the meaning of life?” I felt pleased with myself for slipping this into the conversation so seamlessly.

Sarah leaned against Sami in a manner that seemed quite flirtatious. “Not to change diapers or work in some office.”

Sami leaned into Sarah. “You gotta have a good time while it lasts, I know that much.”

Dewey began French-kissing Tracey and Kai started in with Vicki. I felt myself blush and turned back to Sarah, but she was canoodling Sami. I stood up, gradually so as not to call attention to my superfluous self, and slunk off. “Hey, see ya!” called out Sarah. I turned around to say bye and wave, but she was already back to necking.

As I walked off, it suddenly struck me as creepy that we'd left the safety boards collapsed around the construction sight. Someone could get hurt, which would be some pretty bad karma. Did Rick believe in karma? I wasn't sure. I imagined he'd say people should do good things out of Love, not because they were afraid bad stuff would come back to them. That was almost a selfish reason. I pondered this weighty question as I walked back to find the boards and set them right, then to find and return the Big Wheel.