Strawberry Fields Forever
it's getting hard to be someone but it all works out
When Ryan first saw the boy across the river, he wasn’t really sure what to do. It had been weeks, maybe months, (he hadn’t kept track of the days once William died) since he’d seen a living human being. The first emotion that roiled up in his throat was primal anger - this boy had crossed onto on his territory, maybe stealing from his river, probably sleeping on his land. But then as soon as the anger came, it faded into curiosity.
The boy scooped water up into plastic bottles, no doubt scrounged from the garbage or scavenged from an abandoned store, and stored the bottles into a large leather pack. But that wasn’t why Ryan felt so intrigued… it was because as the boy scooped and filled and packed away, he smiled and sang to no one but himself. Once in a while, he’d even laugh, and the cheery sound seemed to fill every silent night Ryan had lived through without William, invade the air and disturb the quiet sounds of nature Ryan had become so used to. He suddenly realized he couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed himself.
But there this boy knelt, scooping enough water to last for days into bottles and storing them away, and from the look on his face, he couldn’t be any happier. Words and sounds flew over the bubbling, choppy sound of the water flowing, and Ryan had to catch his breath once he deciphered the words.
living is easy with eyes closed misunderstanding all you see
its getting hard to be someone but it all works out
it doesnt matter much to me
As Ryan listened to the boy sing, he knew he sang the words just like Ryan always thought they should be sung - with no punctuation, no boundaries, following no rules or order. For one terrifying moment Ryan couldn’t remember the name of the band that sang that song, even though at one point they were a big part of his life, he knew this.
And then it hit him. The Beatles. It had been an untold number of days and months since he’d had the energy or brain space to think about his favorite band of better days, but here he stood now, his feet in the shockingly cold water of what he had thought of up until now as his own secret river, listening to some boy sing his heart out to a song he hadn’t heard since the last time he saw his parents, the last time he went to school, the last time everything was normal…
let me take you down cause im going to strawberry fields
nothing is real and nothing to get hung about
strawberry fields forever
Ryan realized with a sudden fervent energy that he has missed the feeling of music more than he thought, missed the way it felt against his skin and rattling against his bones. He missed the tangible feeling of the very sound of beauty, missed the taste of a soaring note or well placed word. Across the steam, still unaware of Ryan’s presence, the boy sang on and on, totally unselfconscious and seemingly comfortable with his own voice.
always know sometimes think its me but you know i know its all a dream
i think i know of thee, ah yes, but its all wrong
that is i think i disagree
As the boy reached the end of the song Ryan realized that he was out of water bottles and that he would probably turn his back on the river and disappear back into wherever he came from. But instead, the boy sat down next to the now bulging leather pack and looked down at the water, seemingly lost in his thoughts. Ryan waited for him to start singing again, but he didn’t.
Finally, whether it be sixth sense or just coincidence, the boy finally looked up, straight into Ryan’s startled face. His features went from shock to confusion to joy in a matter of seconds, and he bounded up onto his feet so fast it looked like he sat on a flame.
“Hey!”
Ryan, still trying to come to terms with the fact that there was a human being standing so near him, couldn’t quite speak. Also, he hadn’t had the occasion to use his voice in a very long time, so what came out of his throat was nothing but a rusty squeak.
“What? What’d you say? Are you okay?” The boy practically screamed, skidding down the slightly elevated bank of the river and plunging in the three foot deep water, wading towards Ryan, the gentle current seeming to help him instead of deterring him. When he emerged from the water, he stumbled up onto his feet and stood far too close to Ryan, who knew he had to say something, and soon. He searched his mind for something to say, anything.
And this was what finally tumbled out: “D-do you… do you know what day it ih-is?”
The boy threw his head back and laughed his rich laughter, making Ryan jump a little. “All I can tell you is that it’s the middle of summer.”
“My birthday is at the end of summer,” Ryan said, also inexplicably, and the boy seemed to like this, because he smiled his brilliant smile, so many teeth and so little gums.
“Mine’s not even in the summer. Consider yourself lucky… what’s your name?” The boy asked, sounding hesitant, like a timid kid called on during class.
“Ryan. I… I’m Ryan. What’s your name?” At least Ryan could get that right.
“Brendon. Hi, Ryan, I’m Brendon. Are you all alone?” Brendon was almost childlike in speech, but Ryan couldn’t help but notice the way his jaw was a straight line and his eyes a deep brown.
“Y-yeah. I’m… I used to be with my friend William, but he’s… he’s gone now.”
“Where’d he go?” Brendon asked, looking over Ryan’s shoulder as if he expected to see someone poking their head out from behind a tree.
“He… he’s dead. I mean, he died. His body was uh, weak, and when they released the sickness it… well, it made him really sick,” Ryan said uncomfortably, fully aware that tears were gathering in the corners of his eyes.
Brendon reached over and patted Ryan’s shoulder in a way that should have been awkward but wasn’t. It was comforting, and Ryan realized how much he has missed someone’s touch.
“I’m very sorry,” Brendon said, his face solemn. His eyes got bigger and wider as a result, and for a moment Ryan got lost inside them, staring blankly at Brendon without speaking or moving.
“I think you’re supposed to say thank you,” Brendon whispered, never rearranging his facial features.
Ryan jumped and blushed. “Th-thank you, Brendon. It’s… it’s alright.”
Brendon smiled his big big smile and took his hand off Ryan’s shoulder. “If you’re all alone, Ryan, do you wanna come with me? I’m not alone, I’m with my friend Jon, he’s back at my camp. I found him on the side of the road and he wasn’t wearing any shoes, if you can believe that, and… he’s a good guy. I think you’ll like him. We’re walking, passing through all these fields and through all these towns, but you’re the first person I’ve found. Do you wanna come with us? We might have to walk the fields forever, but at least you won’t be alone.”
Ryan gaped a little. Brendon cocked his head to the side and smiled a little, waiting for an answer, obviously expecting a yes.
“I…” Ryan said, unsure of what to say, unsure of what he really wanted to do, but then Brendon’s smile widened and his eyes crinkled at the corners and he just said yes.
The boy scooped water up into plastic bottles, no doubt scrounged from the garbage or scavenged from an abandoned store, and stored the bottles into a large leather pack. But that wasn’t why Ryan felt so intrigued… it was because as the boy scooped and filled and packed away, he smiled and sang to no one but himself. Once in a while, he’d even laugh, and the cheery sound seemed to fill every silent night Ryan had lived through without William, invade the air and disturb the quiet sounds of nature Ryan had become so used to. He suddenly realized he couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed himself.
But there this boy knelt, scooping enough water to last for days into bottles and storing them away, and from the look on his face, he couldn’t be any happier. Words and sounds flew over the bubbling, choppy sound of the water flowing, and Ryan had to catch his breath once he deciphered the words.
living is easy with eyes closed misunderstanding all you see
its getting hard to be someone but it all works out
it doesnt matter much to me
As Ryan listened to the boy sing, he knew he sang the words just like Ryan always thought they should be sung - with no punctuation, no boundaries, following no rules or order. For one terrifying moment Ryan couldn’t remember the name of the band that sang that song, even though at one point they were a big part of his life, he knew this.
And then it hit him. The Beatles. It had been an untold number of days and months since he’d had the energy or brain space to think about his favorite band of better days, but here he stood now, his feet in the shockingly cold water of what he had thought of up until now as his own secret river, listening to some boy sing his heart out to a song he hadn’t heard since the last time he saw his parents, the last time he went to school, the last time everything was normal…
let me take you down cause im going to strawberry fields
nothing is real and nothing to get hung about
strawberry fields forever
Ryan realized with a sudden fervent energy that he has missed the feeling of music more than he thought, missed the way it felt against his skin and rattling against his bones. He missed the tangible feeling of the very sound of beauty, missed the taste of a soaring note or well placed word. Across the steam, still unaware of Ryan’s presence, the boy sang on and on, totally unselfconscious and seemingly comfortable with his own voice.
always know sometimes think its me but you know i know its all a dream
i think i know of thee, ah yes, but its all wrong
that is i think i disagree
As the boy reached the end of the song Ryan realized that he was out of water bottles and that he would probably turn his back on the river and disappear back into wherever he came from. But instead, the boy sat down next to the now bulging leather pack and looked down at the water, seemingly lost in his thoughts. Ryan waited for him to start singing again, but he didn’t.
Finally, whether it be sixth sense or just coincidence, the boy finally looked up, straight into Ryan’s startled face. His features went from shock to confusion to joy in a matter of seconds, and he bounded up onto his feet so fast it looked like he sat on a flame.
“Hey!”
Ryan, still trying to come to terms with the fact that there was a human being standing so near him, couldn’t quite speak. Also, he hadn’t had the occasion to use his voice in a very long time, so what came out of his throat was nothing but a rusty squeak.
“What? What’d you say? Are you okay?” The boy practically screamed, skidding down the slightly elevated bank of the river and plunging in the three foot deep water, wading towards Ryan, the gentle current seeming to help him instead of deterring him. When he emerged from the water, he stumbled up onto his feet and stood far too close to Ryan, who knew he had to say something, and soon. He searched his mind for something to say, anything.
And this was what finally tumbled out: “D-do you… do you know what day it ih-is?”
The boy threw his head back and laughed his rich laughter, making Ryan jump a little. “All I can tell you is that it’s the middle of summer.”
“My birthday is at the end of summer,” Ryan said, also inexplicably, and the boy seemed to like this, because he smiled his brilliant smile, so many teeth and so little gums.
“Mine’s not even in the summer. Consider yourself lucky… what’s your name?” The boy asked, sounding hesitant, like a timid kid called on during class.
“Ryan. I… I’m Ryan. What’s your name?” At least Ryan could get that right.
“Brendon. Hi, Ryan, I’m Brendon. Are you all alone?” Brendon was almost childlike in speech, but Ryan couldn’t help but notice the way his jaw was a straight line and his eyes a deep brown.
“Y-yeah. I’m… I used to be with my friend William, but he’s… he’s gone now.”
“Where’d he go?” Brendon asked, looking over Ryan’s shoulder as if he expected to see someone poking their head out from behind a tree.
“He… he’s dead. I mean, he died. His body was uh, weak, and when they released the sickness it… well, it made him really sick,” Ryan said uncomfortably, fully aware that tears were gathering in the corners of his eyes.
Brendon reached over and patted Ryan’s shoulder in a way that should have been awkward but wasn’t. It was comforting, and Ryan realized how much he has missed someone’s touch.
“I’m very sorry,” Brendon said, his face solemn. His eyes got bigger and wider as a result, and for a moment Ryan got lost inside them, staring blankly at Brendon without speaking or moving.
“I think you’re supposed to say thank you,” Brendon whispered, never rearranging his facial features.
Ryan jumped and blushed. “Th-thank you, Brendon. It’s… it’s alright.”
Brendon smiled his big big smile and took his hand off Ryan’s shoulder. “If you’re all alone, Ryan, do you wanna come with me? I’m not alone, I’m with my friend Jon, he’s back at my camp. I found him on the side of the road and he wasn’t wearing any shoes, if you can believe that, and… he’s a good guy. I think you’ll like him. We’re walking, passing through all these fields and through all these towns, but you’re the first person I’ve found. Do you wanna come with us? We might have to walk the fields forever, but at least you won’t be alone.”
Ryan gaped a little. Brendon cocked his head to the side and smiled a little, waiting for an answer, obviously expecting a yes.
“I…” Ryan said, unsure of what to say, unsure of what he really wanted to do, but then Brendon’s smile widened and his eyes crinkled at the corners and he just said yes.