Chapter Seven

     I apparently found my way to a new seat and the girl next to me had a look of surprise and bewilderment on her face, bewilderment is an expression we don't see so often on peoples faces and the comparison took me a while to make.  But it was most definitely bewilderment, I'd bet my life on it.  Her surprise a symptom of my being there and the bewilderment a symptom of my own expression which was that of my trying to make heads or tails of how I got to be where I am.  Wondering why, especially had I chosen this particular seat?  I explained to her that I had previously been obsessing over a window seat several isles back and while doing so managed to frighten many of those near me and making sure not to leave out the interesting almost creepy gentlemen I shared a row with.  She sat on the edge of her seat with her entire body facing me her right hand gently resting on her left, she was very aware of her body language and in an inviting way pleased me I began studying her face, shoulders, arms, hands, and feet for any silent impression she may be expressing.  She was very young but very interested or at least good at hiding it.  I couldn't steal anything she was silently communicating that she wasn't intending me to pick up on which was a challenge I have never been faced with and that thought briefly frightened me.  It felt as if several minuets past when I realized neither of us had said anything for some time, I could tell she was thinking about that as well and we both seemed to be just sitting here wondering if the other had noticed. 
     The truth of it was, it relaxed me knowing that we both shared the same thoughts and were unsure how to continue from here.  One awkward moment becoming peaceful, at least to me.  That very thought reminded me that she may not be sitting in as peaceful a place as I was and to her this whole situation was just incredibly awkward.  I offered her a peanut.  Until now I thought I'd eaten them all, I, however, managed to save one which I was offering in a manner of extending my hand slowly with a single peanut resting in my palm; so if things hadn't been awkward before they most definitely were now.  It seemed to loosen her up though as she reached for it excitedly and popped it into her mouth.  More often then not its the simplest answer to any given problem that is the best, the peanut being evidence enough for me.  The offering of food has always been graciously accepted, with no guarantees - of course, we all remember what happened to the Indians.  At least we set aside a single day of the year to remember the sacrifices they made and the hope that they once stood for There's nothing that says I'm sorry like reminding them every year of their hospitality before we ravaged their food, culture and land.  I'm surprised history hasn't written them out or at the very least teaching our youth today that they, after the feast, actually signed their lifestyle, religion and freedom away an offering of good faith that we would cherish these lands. 

     "Aw, a brilliant sunset whispers truth its colors a daring red though as it nears the horizon becomes a silky orange, the mountains just a silhouette - camera fades out to an old Indian standing tall on a hill looking towards the sky, or so it seems camera angle tilts up and the once fertile land between him and the darkening sky a trash dump.  The Indian sheds a single tear." I remember the first time I saw that - regardless of how hard I tried I wasn't able to produce a single tear.  I had gathered all this from a peanut? 
     But it WAS more than just a peanut, it is an offering - a sacrifice in a sense.  I watched as she finishes chewing my donation, I asked her what her story is and at first says "I don't know, a trip home - i guess" .  Her reason for being on this flight today, she's returning home after a couple of years living with some friends.  Her story starts at the end and is probably too long and boring for me to sit through anyway, stories that begin at the end always have some tragic climax that subsides with a cross - country intervention, a few minor glitches and finally reach a point of hope before usually ending badly.  I opted to keep that to myself.  Instead I asked her how old she was?  twenty one, she says.  What's your passion what do you want to do? "Like, as a career?  When I grow up?"  Yeah, sure any means of interpretation you want "I've been thinking I might want to study psychology.".   psychology!  Why, Whatever fort?!  I had been interested in psychology myself for some time before I noticed a pattern in its followers.  They had an interesting knack of believing what they say to be absolute truth, undeniable by society and unquestionable by anyone else.  An hour long lecture directed to you for a measly three hundred bucks a session.  Ideally the science was a promising one, to study thought process, emotions, decisions and that connection between mind and soul but with all mine, or yours - I'm sure - experience with the field and how little any of that has to do with anything.  She thought she could be the one to change all that or at least attempt to set an example or maybe just be the one good and decent psychologist who aimed toward helping people.  I thought it would ruin her, be the end of all things innocent and leave her bitter and alone.  But to each their own.  

     Sometimes I question a persons intent only to rebuild it which after time generally just crushes it, its this thing I do sometimes, when I'm bored.  I get bored a lot.  The pattern on the cushion of the airplane is  somewhat of an aphrodisiac, that and the unusual scent of this young woman's perfume sent me spinning upwards and away crippled in a moment of light headed disarray.  She kept talking about her cousin in Miami whom she hadn't seen in some time, she was thinking out loud but welcomed any response that I may have though she was distracted in her thoughts.  So even if I had said anything, which I never intended to, she wouldn't have noticed.  Then we both said the same three words " And then I..."  which was especially odd considering I wasn't in the process of even talking let alone thinking, trying to pass it off as a cough I wheezed, shook my head and beat at my chest.  I can't imagine why I thought that would make sense of the situation but its an action we seem to turn to quite a bit.  "And then you...  what?"  she asked.  "...Was just wondering what happened next, that's all.  I'm just very, very interested in whatever it is that your talking about so I'm trying to be more involved, you know?"  She bought it, whatever the hell it was that I was saying and went on talking.  Blah, blah, blah...I'd been saying that for so long in my head I'm pretty sure I actually started saying it out loud, when I opened my eyes, which were apparently closed, I was flapping my hand up and down to which was the universal hand gesture that also meant " blah, blah blah..."  It must be the lack of oxygen.  I can't imagine putting myself in a position where I'd actually tell a person that - I seemed to forgot how to listen and I sure as hell wouldn't do it in such a way that I'd seemed to have adopted.  I had no excuse, there was nothing I could say or do that would get me off so I just stood up and walked several more isles towards the front of the plane.