Writing the Future
Entry One: A snowy day
I don't remember what happened around these times too much. It was a pretty calm part of my life, really. And to be honest, the last taste of calmness I'd experience for a long, long time.
The year was 2009, though I can't pin down the exact month these days. But I can remember what it looked like. It was a whiteout blizzard outside, and we had the corn burning stove running in the living room. And me, being the smart soul that I was, could be seen jumping on the fold-out bed couch in the living room in a summer dress. Back then, weather rarely affected my dressing styles.
On this day, my older sister Myriah had just created a Facebook account. It was the newest craze, I remember. Everyone had one, and you weren't cool if you didn't.
Well, over lunch (Soup, I believe) My Dad jokingly asked her to look up ‘ol Eaglenose’. It was universally known in our house who that was. Let me go back for a moment:
Eaglenose, was actually this boy named Quinton. I’d known him most of my life, having been introduced to him at a pretty young age. He grew up in a homeschooled, Christian family of three kids, and because they were homeschooled like we three were, we’d all attend this weekly gettogether with other homeschool families where us kids just hung out and wrecked havoc.
Being the shy kid I was, I didn’t attract many friends, but when I was around those kids, even the ones much older than me, I felt like I was one of them, even if they weren’t really including me in their activities.
Every Wednesday was when we’d meet up, at Riverside Church in Torrington. That familiar place was almost a second home to me, as well as Ten Pin Tropics, the local bowling alley, and Skate City, the rollerskating rink. (both since closed, cit: 2007-2008 roughly)
Anyways, Quinton was about fifteen when I’d last seen him, and he’d earned the name Eaglenose because he had this really chiseled looking nose. Him and my sister had a thing for eachother around this time, swapping gushy, innocent letters back and forth every week, nothing serious or troublesome. Well, his mom found out about it and literally raised Hell. Like, I mean, she brought the 7,000,000 damned souls with her from Hell, and brought the problem up to my mom, whom in turn, had a fit, as well. It was innocent puppy love, nothing more.
Well, after an awkward day of all of us sitting in sodomized silence, listening to our parents and his parents bickering in the library of the church, we knew we were nearing the end of our friendship. And of course, we were right.
We found out later, that his family was planning on moving soon anyways, to Minnesota, and according to his mother, Quinton simply had no time for useless, long distance relationships.
Fair enough.
My sister laughed and said she hadn’t thought to look him up. I was honestly curious, too. I hadn’t seen him in over four or five years, and I might not’ve been tech savvy, but I know there is a photo option for Facebook. What would he look like now? Surely he’d graduated high school by now and all that.
After lunch, she went and looked him up, and sure enough, there was an account. Laughing, she sent him a friend request, just to catch up on lose time.
I don’t remember much of what happened between here and summer, but I know it was a lot. One thing I do remember, is how frequently they spoke to each other through Facebook chat. Every night, for almost three hours, she’d sit at the lone computer laughing and talking to him, meanwhile there was puss-face herself over here just wanting to check her virtual Beanie Babies.
On a colder night, when us three kids were forced to retreat from our shared room on the second floor to the heated living room downstairs, I was enlightened.
Me and my sister lied there on the lumpy fold out bed, talking to each other a bit before going to bed, she hesitated, and then asked if I could keep a secret. I nodded eagerly, wanting to hear what she had to share.
She told me that Quinton wanted to visit her soon. That he was saving up some money and would take some time off work to come out to Wyoming. I was excited, and clearly so was she.
She ended up spilling the news to our parents the following day, anyways. And surprisingly, their reaction was positive. They even offered to let him stay at the house with us instead of getting a hotel or staying with a friend.
Plans were made... And plans were delayed. They became a sort of power couple over the months of spring and summer, and when fall came, and he’d run out of excuses, finally, he embarked on his journey south.
The year was 2009, though I can't pin down the exact month these days. But I can remember what it looked like. It was a whiteout blizzard outside, and we had the corn burning stove running in the living room. And me, being the smart soul that I was, could be seen jumping on the fold-out bed couch in the living room in a summer dress. Back then, weather rarely affected my dressing styles.
On this day, my older sister Myriah had just created a Facebook account. It was the newest craze, I remember. Everyone had one, and you weren't cool if you didn't.
Well, over lunch (Soup, I believe) My Dad jokingly asked her to look up ‘ol Eaglenose’. It was universally known in our house who that was. Let me go back for a moment:
Eaglenose, was actually this boy named Quinton. I’d known him most of my life, having been introduced to him at a pretty young age. He grew up in a homeschooled, Christian family of three kids, and because they were homeschooled like we three were, we’d all attend this weekly gettogether with other homeschool families where us kids just hung out and wrecked havoc.
Being the shy kid I was, I didn’t attract many friends, but when I was around those kids, even the ones much older than me, I felt like I was one of them, even if they weren’t really including me in their activities.
Every Wednesday was when we’d meet up, at Riverside Church in Torrington. That familiar place was almost a second home to me, as well as Ten Pin Tropics, the local bowling alley, and Skate City, the rollerskating rink. (both since closed, cit: 2007-2008 roughly)
Anyways, Quinton was about fifteen when I’d last seen him, and he’d earned the name Eaglenose because he had this really chiseled looking nose. Him and my sister had a thing for eachother around this time, swapping gushy, innocent letters back and forth every week, nothing serious or troublesome. Well, his mom found out about it and literally raised Hell. Like, I mean, she brought the 7,000,000 damned souls with her from Hell, and brought the problem up to my mom, whom in turn, had a fit, as well. It was innocent puppy love, nothing more.
Well, after an awkward day of all of us sitting in sodomized silence, listening to our parents and his parents bickering in the library of the church, we knew we were nearing the end of our friendship. And of course, we were right.
We found out later, that his family was planning on moving soon anyways, to Minnesota, and according to his mother, Quinton simply had no time for useless, long distance relationships.
Fair enough.
My sister laughed and said she hadn’t thought to look him up. I was honestly curious, too. I hadn’t seen him in over four or five years, and I might not’ve been tech savvy, but I know there is a photo option for Facebook. What would he look like now? Surely he’d graduated high school by now and all that.
After lunch, she went and looked him up, and sure enough, there was an account. Laughing, she sent him a friend request, just to catch up on lose time.
I don’t remember much of what happened between here and summer, but I know it was a lot. One thing I do remember, is how frequently they spoke to each other through Facebook chat. Every night, for almost three hours, she’d sit at the lone computer laughing and talking to him, meanwhile there was puss-face herself over here just wanting to check her virtual Beanie Babies.
On a colder night, when us three kids were forced to retreat from our shared room on the second floor to the heated living room downstairs, I was enlightened.
Me and my sister lied there on the lumpy fold out bed, talking to each other a bit before going to bed, she hesitated, and then asked if I could keep a secret. I nodded eagerly, wanting to hear what she had to share.
She told me that Quinton wanted to visit her soon. That he was saving up some money and would take some time off work to come out to Wyoming. I was excited, and clearly so was she.
She ended up spilling the news to our parents the following day, anyways. And surprisingly, their reaction was positive. They even offered to let him stay at the house with us instead of getting a hotel or staying with a friend.
Plans were made... And plans were delayed. They became a sort of power couple over the months of spring and summer, and when fall came, and he’d run out of excuses, finally, he embarked on his journey south.