Day 4
I waited a few days to write this because I was taking some time to mull things over a bit.
I woke up that morning and headed to Greenville, NC to visit my friend Paul.
I first met Paul when I was 15 years old. He lived in North Carolina but summered in Scituate in a house next to Dave Green. There was a group of us and we spent the summer today doing various teen type silly things. Collecting all our change and then going into Papa Ginos with a big full of coins. Driving around in one friend's car - which was the coolest thing when no one else had a car. Riding our bikes around Scituate. Walking around the harbor. Going to the carnival. Hanging out in Dave's room, listening to music and playing various guitars (ok them, not me). It was a great summer.
The next June was my 16th birthday and it was a surprise party at my house. All my friends were there except for M & T (sisters). They were mysteriously not there but called to say they had to go pick someone up and that three of them would be coming. I was outside and saw their car parked outside. I ran into the house and there was Paul, leaning against the back porch and laughing. These memories are still so clear.
Despite being happy to see him, his reasons for being there were not optimal. He came from a troubled home (his dad was a sheriff and was one of those ass cop types). They had gotten in a big ugly fight and Paul had caught a bus to Massachusetts to stay here. Despite the fact that we had just been friends the summer before, this summer was different. I was 16 and he was 14 and neither of us really knew anything about communicating how we felt. But after about a week or two, we decided we wanted to be "boyfriend and girlfriend". The day that we decided this we were hanging out in M's room and lying there. It was my first "relationship" and I remember it feeling so new and amazing and so comfortable because it was someone I had first been friends with. We were lying there just touching hands and I remember the sensation of first having that kind of an interaction with someone.
We heard a car pull up and looked outside. It was a cop car and they had come to take Paul. His dad figured out where he was and sent the Scituate police there to take him into custody. We looked at each other and I remember the fear. M's mother came up and said that he could go out the back door and go to the harbor and hide out on their boat. But he did not run. He knew he had to face his life and his family.
The police took him to the police station and told him he had to stay there for 3-4 days while his family figured out what they wanted to do with him and then he could have to go back to North Carolina. So he stayed in the Scituate jail cell. Now, this is Scituate so we're not exactly talking about a place where the dregs of society hang out. We had two cells and the other one was empty. His cell had a window that had a small hole in it.
While he was there, I spent every day sitting outside the police station, outside his window, and trying to be there for him. Dave Green, my best friend Christine, and me. Every day. Sometimes other people would join us, but the three of us kept up a constant vigil. We wrote notes to each other, I would bring him things, and just tried to be there for him. Every day we were allowed to visit him in his cell for 30 minutes.
His stay there also fell on his birthday. We were sitting outside - it was the third day - and one of the cops called my friend Charles over to him. Charles came back and said he had something to do and would be right back. It turns out the cop had given him $20 and told him to go to the local store and get some snacks and a video to watch (he got the Lion King). They let us in the main part of the police station and we all watched the movie, snacked, and hung out. The fact that the cop did that, still remains one of the most beautiful things. It just meant so much to all of us and was such a special lovely surprise.
On the 4th day, the police put him on the plane to go back to North Carolina. I remember standing outside the police station and saying goodbye to him. Wondering what would happen to him and if I would ever see him again. We kissed goodbye - it was my first real kiss - and he got in the car and it drove away. We wrote for months afterwards. He was put into foster care and moved around from one crappy location to another. I still have all of the letters he wrote to me. Eventually though, we did lose touch until about 2000 when we found each other online. Over the years we have chatted, emailed, etc. He got married and then divorced and then remarried and had a child. I watched his progress via MySpace and our occasional emails and chats.
I did not come down here with the intention of seeing him. It didn't even occur to me until I was in North Carolina. But then I was at the shore and I remembered him protesting about the temperature of Massachusetts water and his descriptions of the NC beaches and the warmth of the water. Remembering this, I had taken my shoes off and walked in the water and remembered him. So I messaged him to see if he wanted to meet up. And so, 14 years after he gave me my first kiss and drove away, I saw him again.
Seeing Paul was amazing. Fourteen years is a long time and we've changed so much. Yet, from the moment I saw him, I felt comfortable. No nerves. No shyness. Just comfort. I met his wife and his little baby girl and it made me glow inside. I remember so clearly that thought of wondering when I would see him again. Wondering what would happen to him. To me. To us.
And we're happy.
We left each other 14 years ago, with care and respect and friendship. Seeing him again and seeing him so happy was wonderful. His wife is amazing - a ray of sunshine - and his daughter is a gift. He glows with pride and meaning when he talks about her. Seeing him reminds me of being that 16 year old girl. It brought back memories of youth, cheer, and innocence. Of who I was and who I wanted to be. And of who I am.
As I read back over this - yes, I am aware of the cheese factor. But, it is what it is. And it meant a lot to me. I am so happy for him. And so glad to see him. I don't know why it was now. But I am so glad this story was a happy one.
I ended up spending the night there. Definitely got a feel for the life of having a baby. Surprisingly, I didn't feel as disconnected from this tot as I have others. She was a lot of fun, but goodness are there some crazy ass kid shows out there. I don't remember if being a kid if that trippy but the shows certainly are.
I woke up that morning and headed to Greenville, NC to visit my friend Paul.
I first met Paul when I was 15 years old. He lived in North Carolina but summered in Scituate in a house next to Dave Green. There was a group of us and we spent the summer today doing various teen type silly things. Collecting all our change and then going into Papa Ginos with a big full of coins. Driving around in one friend's car - which was the coolest thing when no one else had a car. Riding our bikes around Scituate. Walking around the harbor. Going to the carnival. Hanging out in Dave's room, listening to music and playing various guitars (ok them, not me). It was a great summer.
The next June was my 16th birthday and it was a surprise party at my house. All my friends were there except for M & T (sisters). They were mysteriously not there but called to say they had to go pick someone up and that three of them would be coming. I was outside and saw their car parked outside. I ran into the house and there was Paul, leaning against the back porch and laughing. These memories are still so clear.
Despite being happy to see him, his reasons for being there were not optimal. He came from a troubled home (his dad was a sheriff and was one of those ass cop types). They had gotten in a big ugly fight and Paul had caught a bus to Massachusetts to stay here. Despite the fact that we had just been friends the summer before, this summer was different. I was 16 and he was 14 and neither of us really knew anything about communicating how we felt. But after about a week or two, we decided we wanted to be "boyfriend and girlfriend". The day that we decided this we were hanging out in M's room and lying there. It was my first "relationship" and I remember it feeling so new and amazing and so comfortable because it was someone I had first been friends with. We were lying there just touching hands and I remember the sensation of first having that kind of an interaction with someone.
We heard a car pull up and looked outside. It was a cop car and they had come to take Paul. His dad figured out where he was and sent the Scituate police there to take him into custody. We looked at each other and I remember the fear. M's mother came up and said that he could go out the back door and go to the harbor and hide out on their boat. But he did not run. He knew he had to face his life and his family.
The police took him to the police station and told him he had to stay there for 3-4 days while his family figured out what they wanted to do with him and then he could have to go back to North Carolina. So he stayed in the Scituate jail cell. Now, this is Scituate so we're not exactly talking about a place where the dregs of society hang out. We had two cells and the other one was empty. His cell had a window that had a small hole in it.
While he was there, I spent every day sitting outside the police station, outside his window, and trying to be there for him. Dave Green, my best friend Christine, and me. Every day. Sometimes other people would join us, but the three of us kept up a constant vigil. We wrote notes to each other, I would bring him things, and just tried to be there for him. Every day we were allowed to visit him in his cell for 30 minutes.
His stay there also fell on his birthday. We were sitting outside - it was the third day - and one of the cops called my friend Charles over to him. Charles came back and said he had something to do and would be right back. It turns out the cop had given him $20 and told him to go to the local store and get some snacks and a video to watch (he got the Lion King). They let us in the main part of the police station and we all watched the movie, snacked, and hung out. The fact that the cop did that, still remains one of the most beautiful things. It just meant so much to all of us and was such a special lovely surprise.
On the 4th day, the police put him on the plane to go back to North Carolina. I remember standing outside the police station and saying goodbye to him. Wondering what would happen to him and if I would ever see him again. We kissed goodbye - it was my first real kiss - and he got in the car and it drove away. We wrote for months afterwards. He was put into foster care and moved around from one crappy location to another. I still have all of the letters he wrote to me. Eventually though, we did lose touch until about 2000 when we found each other online. Over the years we have chatted, emailed, etc. He got married and then divorced and then remarried and had a child. I watched his progress via MySpace and our occasional emails and chats.
I did not come down here with the intention of seeing him. It didn't even occur to me until I was in North Carolina. But then I was at the shore and I remembered him protesting about the temperature of Massachusetts water and his descriptions of the NC beaches and the warmth of the water. Remembering this, I had taken my shoes off and walked in the water and remembered him. So I messaged him to see if he wanted to meet up. And so, 14 years after he gave me my first kiss and drove away, I saw him again.
Seeing Paul was amazing. Fourteen years is a long time and we've changed so much. Yet, from the moment I saw him, I felt comfortable. No nerves. No shyness. Just comfort. I met his wife and his little baby girl and it made me glow inside. I remember so clearly that thought of wondering when I would see him again. Wondering what would happen to him. To me. To us.
And we're happy.
We left each other 14 years ago, with care and respect and friendship. Seeing him again and seeing him so happy was wonderful. His wife is amazing - a ray of sunshine - and his daughter is a gift. He glows with pride and meaning when he talks about her. Seeing him reminds me of being that 16 year old girl. It brought back memories of youth, cheer, and innocence. Of who I was and who I wanted to be. And of who I am.
As I read back over this - yes, I am aware of the cheese factor. But, it is what it is. And it meant a lot to me. I am so happy for him. And so glad to see him. I don't know why it was now. But I am so glad this story was a happy one.
I ended up spending the night there. Definitely got a feel for the life of having a baby. Surprisingly, I didn't feel as disconnected from this tot as I have others. She was a lot of fun, but goodness are there some crazy ass kid shows out there. I don't remember if being a kid if that trippy but the shows certainly are.