Poem: "Not Until We Are Lost"
This is spillover from the July 4, 2023 Poetry Fishbowl. It was inspired by prompts from Dreamwidth users Ng_moonmoth, Readera, and wyld_dandelyon. It also fills the "Diversion" square in my 7-1-23 card for the Fireworks Bingo fest. This poem has been sponsored by a pool with DW user Fuzzyred. It belongs to the Rutledge thread of the Polychrome Heroics series. It is followed by "Come to a New Point of View."
Warning: This poem contains intense and controversial topics. Highlight to read the more detailed warnings, some of which are spoilers. It includes getting lost, existential dread, educational abuse, asking for help and getting it, minor medical details, drug abuse, moral injury, and other challenges. If these are sensitive issues for you, please consider your tastes and headspace before reading onward.
"Not Until We Are Lost"
[Saturday, July 14, 2007]
Kevin Stiller pedaled slowly
up the dusty, sloping road.
The day was early yet, and
he had plenty of time, but
it was already turning hot.
He had just finished up at
Greater Bennington Peace
and Justice Center, then
rented a trail bike to ride
to Emerald Mountain Glen
not far outside of Rutledge.
The sun shimmered on the road,
heat waves beginning to form.
Kevin knew from the maps that
the intentional community was
up in the mountains, in the trees,
but this stretch of road was bare.
He sucked on his sport bottle,
but it was dry -- he'd finished
all the Voltage soda earlier,
and didn't have a reload.
He had expected the ride
to take three to four hours,
and was hoping for three,
but that was before he'd hit
the slope of the mountains.
Well, how much farther
could it be, really?
He'd already been
on the road for over
two hours, and made
pretty good progress.
He could make it there;
he'd biked around campus,
and backpacked some in
the summer for Peace Trail.
Kevin had already worked at
New Hampshire Peace Action
in Concord and Dancing Bones
in Wentworth, before looping
back into Vermont now.
This was the last stop;
he could make it there.
This was the last stop.
His chest cramped,
making it hard to breathe.
He had two weeks at
Emerald Mountain Glen
before he'd have to go back
to his tiny off-campus apartment at
Southern New Hampshire University
in Manchester to get ready for
his junior semester in fall.
Just the thought of going
back to all that stress and
the relentless grind of
classes made him cringe.
The summer spent with
like-minded people had
helped some, letting him
start to unwind and relax,
but it wasn't enough and
it wouldn't last forever.
Eventually he'd have to go
back to the college grind.
Kevin lifted his chin and
pedaled harder. He'd just
have to enjoy this last bit
of freedom while he could.
He tried to concentrate on
the wind in his face and
the road flying under him.
Then he came to a crossroad
and ... wait a minute. There
wasn't supposed to be one
of those anywhere soon.
Kevin rolled to a stop
and consulted his map.
There was a crossroad,
but no sign for it, and he
wasn't sure when he had
passed the last sign, and
he couldn't find anything
like this place on his map.
He had gotten himself lost.
Well ... shit. That wasn't good.
The purr of a motor made him
look up from the useless map.
"Hey, man, what's up?"
the driver called, leaning out
the window of his pickup truck.
"You look a bit lost, there."
Kevin weighed his pride
against his map, then
slumped over his bike.
"Yeah, I'm pretty lost,"
he admitted. "I could
sure use some help."
"I'm Daniel Hazeltine,"
the older man said. "So,
where did you come from
and where are you headed?
I could give you directions."
"Kevin Stiller," he replied.
"I came from Bennington,
and I'm traveling toward
Emerald Mountain Glen.
I'm not even sure exactly
where I lost track of my route."
"Quite a ways back, I'm afraid,"
said Daniel. "That's okay, though.
Not until we are lost do we truly
begin to understand ourselves."
"Okay," Kevin said hesitantly.
"Just help me get un-lost."
"You want a lift?" Daniel said.
"I've got a rack for your bike
on the back of my pickup truck."
Kevin had wanted a chance
to burn off some nervous energy,
but that was long since smoked,
and he was out of soda and
it was really freaking hot.
"Yes, please," he said
in a small voice. "Thanks."
"Let's get you hitched up,"
Daniel said, waving him
to the back of the truck.
Sure enough, there was
a rack to hold two bicycles
set across the tailgate.
Kevin tried to lift the bike,
but his luggage -- even
as minimalist as it was --
made it too heavy for him.
Steady hands caught it and
boosted it the rest of the way.
"There you go," Daniel said
cheerfully as he latched it down.
"Thanks for giving me a hand,"
Kevin said as he headed
for the passenger door.
"Hey, you're limping a bit,"
Daniel said. "What's up?"
Kevin didn't really feel
anything -- he tended
to lose track of his body --
but when he looked down
at his feet, he could see a bit
of pink on his white socks
where they rose just above
the heels of his biking shoes.
"Maybe a blister or two,"
he said. "New shoes."
"That bites," said Daniel.
"Sit on the bumper, and
I'll fetch my first aid kit."
Kevin obeyed, and soon
Daniel came back with it.
Carefully Daniel took off
the shoes, then peeled down
the socks. "Yeah, you got
blisters above your heels."
He cleaned off the skin, then
dabbed first aid cream over
the blisters. "I'm just going
to cover the whole backs with
gauze to keep your shoes
from rubbing anywhere else."
"Good idea," said Kevin.
"I guess I didn't notice."
Daniel finished wrapping
the blisters, then helped put
Kevin's socks and shoes on.
"All done," he said, patting
Kevin on the calf. "Hop in
the truck, I've got the air on."
Kevin didn't have enough energy
left to hop. He clambered. But
the cab was blessedly cool,
and he sighed in relief as he
settled into the leather seat.
Daniel bounded into the truck,
glanced at him, and frowned a little.
"You okay, Kevin?" he asked.
"You look a bit overheated."
"Maybe a bit," Kevin said.
"I'll be fine. The air helps."
"There's nowhere to stop for
a drink between here and
Emerald Mountain Glen, but
I've got half a bottle of tea left,"
Daniel said, offering it to him.
Tea. Caffeine, at least a little.
"I'll take it," Kevin said, reaching.
His hand was shaking. Well, hell.
He'd been getting by on energy drinks
and diet pills for most of the summer,
not hitting the harder stuff like he
had to do to stay awake in class,
but maybe he was running dry.
Tea first. He would worry
about the rest later. It was
cool and wet, refreshing.
Kevin clutched the bottle for
comfort as the pickup truck
rolled smoothly up the road.
"So, Bennington," Daniel said.
"What were you up to there?"
"I had a summer project over at
the Greater Bennington Peace
and Justice Center," said Kevin.
"I'm on the Peace Trail, and
Emerald Mountain Glen will
be my last stop before I
head back to college."
Last stop. Kevin's heart
kicked in his chest again
with a silent, painful protest.
"Oh yeah?" Daniel said.
"What's your major?"
"Business Administration,"
said Kevin. "I just finished
my sophomore year."
"Better you than me,"
Daniel said. "I got
no head for numbers."
"Yeah, me neither,"
Kevin muttered.
"Then why did you
major in Business?"
Daniel wondered.
"My parents insisted,
and they're paying for
college," said Kevin.
"That sucks," said Daniel.
"You should be free."
"They let me choose
my own minor, as long
as I picked one to support
Business," Kevin replied.
"Yeah?" said Daniel.
"Mine were Ceramics
and Recreation. So
what did you pick?"
"Ethics," said Kevin.
"I like it a lot better than
Business; I already finished
the classes for Ethics. I've
just gotten started on Business,
and it's --" Grating, grinding.
A crushing burden laid upon
his shoulders. "-- not as fun."
"Ethics is good," said Daniel.
"That'll get you a job anywhere.
I'm in sustainable forestry myself --
everything from hiking and biking
in spring to hunting in winter, plus
of course the maple sugaring season."
"That sounds nice," Kevin said wistfully.
"The forest is a pretty place to work,
and sustainability is always good."
He wished he could get a job that didn't
involve hurting people, but Business
hardly seemed promising for that.
His economics classes had been
brutal, and would only get worse.
Kevin had tried to cherry-pick
the Business classes for things
that were less awful, but he'd
already gone through most of
the bearable ones and still had
a ton of terrible classes ahead.
Earning his degree felt like
building a cage from the inside,
but he didn't really have a choice;
his parents dictated everything.
Daniel gave him another worried look.
"Well, perhaps you could swing by
my place some time," he invited.
"Yeah?" said Kevin. "For what?
I've enjoyed backpacking a lot."
"I offer camping and backpacking
all summer at Lazy Maple Lane, and
my brother-in-law keeps cows there,
Vermont Acers," Daniel said. "Call it
career research -- there are plenty
of good business gigs outdoors."
The last thing Kevin wanted was
to mix business with refuge, but
Daniel had a nice voice and
his place sounded wonderful.
"Tell me more?" said Kevin. "It
seems like you got a good spot."
Also he needed the diversion.
"Oh yeah, our relatives pooled funds
to help us add to the family farm,"
Daniel said. "Now we have about
seventy-five acres of sugarbush,
pastures, and amenities that let us
do a lot of different things there."
"Amenities?" Kevin said,
trying to stay awake.
"We have cabins for
art, writing, hunting, and
general use," said Daniel.
"There are campsites and
a game cleaning station."
"You get a lot of tourists
out there?" Kevin wondered.
"That's not always easy."
"Enough to keep it going,"
said Daniel. "The artists and
the photographers especially like
the wildlife pond and feeding station
that we've put up, so that they can
see the critters up close without
freezing all day in the woods."
He chattered amiably about
Lazy Maple Lane with all of
its seasonal activities and
the little gift shop that sold
locally produced goodies along
with some arts and crafts supplies.
Kevin rested his cheek against
the cool window of the truck
and listened, not quite dozing,
just resting as they traveled.
It was the most peace he'd
found since starting college.
* * *
Notes:
This poem is long, so its character (Kevin Stiller, Daniel Hazeline), setting, and content notes appear separately.
Warning: This poem contains intense and controversial topics. Highlight to read the more detailed warnings, some of which are spoilers. It includes getting lost, existential dread, educational abuse, asking for help and getting it, minor medical details, drug abuse, moral injury, and other challenges. If these are sensitive issues for you, please consider your tastes and headspace before reading onward.
"Not Until We Are Lost"
[Saturday, July 14, 2007]
Kevin Stiller pedaled slowly
up the dusty, sloping road.
The day was early yet, and
he had plenty of time, but
it was already turning hot.
He had just finished up at
Greater Bennington Peace
and Justice Center, then
rented a trail bike to ride
to Emerald Mountain Glen
not far outside of Rutledge.
The sun shimmered on the road,
heat waves beginning to form.
Kevin knew from the maps that
the intentional community was
up in the mountains, in the trees,
but this stretch of road was bare.
He sucked on his sport bottle,
but it was dry -- he'd finished
all the Voltage soda earlier,
and didn't have a reload.
He had expected the ride
to take three to four hours,
and was hoping for three,
but that was before he'd hit
the slope of the mountains.
Well, how much farther
could it be, really?
He'd already been
on the road for over
two hours, and made
pretty good progress.
He could make it there;
he'd biked around campus,
and backpacked some in
the summer for Peace Trail.
Kevin had already worked at
New Hampshire Peace Action
in Concord and Dancing Bones
in Wentworth, before looping
back into Vermont now.
This was the last stop;
he could make it there.
This was the last stop.
His chest cramped,
making it hard to breathe.
He had two weeks at
Emerald Mountain Glen
before he'd have to go back
to his tiny off-campus apartment at
Southern New Hampshire University
in Manchester to get ready for
his junior semester in fall.
Just the thought of going
back to all that stress and
the relentless grind of
classes made him cringe.
The summer spent with
like-minded people had
helped some, letting him
start to unwind and relax,
but it wasn't enough and
it wouldn't last forever.
Eventually he'd have to go
back to the college grind.
Kevin lifted his chin and
pedaled harder. He'd just
have to enjoy this last bit
of freedom while he could.
He tried to concentrate on
the wind in his face and
the road flying under him.
Then he came to a crossroad
and ... wait a minute. There
wasn't supposed to be one
of those anywhere soon.
Kevin rolled to a stop
and consulted his map.
There was a crossroad,
but no sign for it, and he
wasn't sure when he had
passed the last sign, and
he couldn't find anything
like this place on his map.
He had gotten himself lost.
Well ... shit. That wasn't good.
The purr of a motor made him
look up from the useless map.
"Hey, man, what's up?"
the driver called, leaning out
the window of his pickup truck.
"You look a bit lost, there."
Kevin weighed his pride
against his map, then
slumped over his bike.
"Yeah, I'm pretty lost,"
he admitted. "I could
sure use some help."
"I'm Daniel Hazeltine,"
the older man said. "So,
where did you come from
and where are you headed?
I could give you directions."
"Kevin Stiller," he replied.
"I came from Bennington,
and I'm traveling toward
Emerald Mountain Glen.
I'm not even sure exactly
where I lost track of my route."
"Quite a ways back, I'm afraid,"
said Daniel. "That's okay, though.
Not until we are lost do we truly
begin to understand ourselves."
"Okay," Kevin said hesitantly.
"Just help me get un-lost."
"You want a lift?" Daniel said.
"I've got a rack for your bike
on the back of my pickup truck."
Kevin had wanted a chance
to burn off some nervous energy,
but that was long since smoked,
and he was out of soda and
it was really freaking hot.
"Yes, please," he said
in a small voice. "Thanks."
"Let's get you hitched up,"
Daniel said, waving him
to the back of the truck.
Sure enough, there was
a rack to hold two bicycles
set across the tailgate.
Kevin tried to lift the bike,
but his luggage -- even
as minimalist as it was --
made it too heavy for him.
Steady hands caught it and
boosted it the rest of the way.
"There you go," Daniel said
cheerfully as he latched it down.
"Thanks for giving me a hand,"
Kevin said as he headed
for the passenger door.
"Hey, you're limping a bit,"
Daniel said. "What's up?"
Kevin didn't really feel
anything -- he tended
to lose track of his body --
but when he looked down
at his feet, he could see a bit
of pink on his white socks
where they rose just above
the heels of his biking shoes.
"Maybe a blister or two,"
he said. "New shoes."
"That bites," said Daniel.
"Sit on the bumper, and
I'll fetch my first aid kit."
Kevin obeyed, and soon
Daniel came back with it.
Carefully Daniel took off
the shoes, then peeled down
the socks. "Yeah, you got
blisters above your heels."
He cleaned off the skin, then
dabbed first aid cream over
the blisters. "I'm just going
to cover the whole backs with
gauze to keep your shoes
from rubbing anywhere else."
"Good idea," said Kevin.
"I guess I didn't notice."
Daniel finished wrapping
the blisters, then helped put
Kevin's socks and shoes on.
"All done," he said, patting
Kevin on the calf. "Hop in
the truck, I've got the air on."
Kevin didn't have enough energy
left to hop. He clambered. But
the cab was blessedly cool,
and he sighed in relief as he
settled into the leather seat.
Daniel bounded into the truck,
glanced at him, and frowned a little.
"You okay, Kevin?" he asked.
"You look a bit overheated."
"Maybe a bit," Kevin said.
"I'll be fine. The air helps."
"There's nowhere to stop for
a drink between here and
Emerald Mountain Glen, but
I've got half a bottle of tea left,"
Daniel said, offering it to him.
Tea. Caffeine, at least a little.
"I'll take it," Kevin said, reaching.
His hand was shaking. Well, hell.
He'd been getting by on energy drinks
and diet pills for most of the summer,
not hitting the harder stuff like he
had to do to stay awake in class,
but maybe he was running dry.
Tea first. He would worry
about the rest later. It was
cool and wet, refreshing.
Kevin clutched the bottle for
comfort as the pickup truck
rolled smoothly up the road.
"So, Bennington," Daniel said.
"What were you up to there?"
"I had a summer project over at
the Greater Bennington Peace
and Justice Center," said Kevin.
"I'm on the Peace Trail, and
Emerald Mountain Glen will
be my last stop before I
head back to college."
Last stop. Kevin's heart
kicked in his chest again
with a silent, painful protest.
"Oh yeah?" Daniel said.
"What's your major?"
"Business Administration,"
said Kevin. "I just finished
my sophomore year."
"Better you than me,"
Daniel said. "I got
no head for numbers."
"Yeah, me neither,"
Kevin muttered.
"Then why did you
major in Business?"
Daniel wondered.
"My parents insisted,
and they're paying for
college," said Kevin.
"That sucks," said Daniel.
"You should be free."
"They let me choose
my own minor, as long
as I picked one to support
Business," Kevin replied.
"Yeah?" said Daniel.
"Mine were Ceramics
and Recreation. So
what did you pick?"
"Ethics," said Kevin.
"I like it a lot better than
Business; I already finished
the classes for Ethics. I've
just gotten started on Business,
and it's --" Grating, grinding.
A crushing burden laid upon
his shoulders. "-- not as fun."
"Ethics is good," said Daniel.
"That'll get you a job anywhere.
I'm in sustainable forestry myself --
everything from hiking and biking
in spring to hunting in winter, plus
of course the maple sugaring season."
"That sounds nice," Kevin said wistfully.
"The forest is a pretty place to work,
and sustainability is always good."
He wished he could get a job that didn't
involve hurting people, but Business
hardly seemed promising for that.
His economics classes had been
brutal, and would only get worse.
Kevin had tried to cherry-pick
the Business classes for things
that were less awful, but he'd
already gone through most of
the bearable ones and still had
a ton of terrible classes ahead.
Earning his degree felt like
building a cage from the inside,
but he didn't really have a choice;
his parents dictated everything.
Daniel gave him another worried look.
"Well, perhaps you could swing by
my place some time," he invited.
"Yeah?" said Kevin. "For what?
I've enjoyed backpacking a lot."
"I offer camping and backpacking
all summer at Lazy Maple Lane, and
my brother-in-law keeps cows there,
Vermont Acers," Daniel said. "Call it
career research -- there are plenty
of good business gigs outdoors."
The last thing Kevin wanted was
to mix business with refuge, but
Daniel had a nice voice and
his place sounded wonderful.
"Tell me more?" said Kevin. "It
seems like you got a good spot."
Also he needed the diversion.
"Oh yeah, our relatives pooled funds
to help us add to the family farm,"
Daniel said. "Now we have about
seventy-five acres of sugarbush,
pastures, and amenities that let us
do a lot of different things there."
"Amenities?" Kevin said,
trying to stay awake.
"We have cabins for
art, writing, hunting, and
general use," said Daniel.
"There are campsites and
a game cleaning station."
"You get a lot of tourists
out there?" Kevin wondered.
"That's not always easy."
"Enough to keep it going,"
said Daniel. "The artists and
the photographers especially like
the wildlife pond and feeding station
that we've put up, so that they can
see the critters up close without
freezing all day in the woods."
He chattered amiably about
Lazy Maple Lane with all of
its seasonal activities and
the little gift shop that sold
locally produced goodies along
with some arts and crafts supplies.
Kevin rested his cheek against
the cool window of the truck
and listened, not quite dozing,
just resting as they traveled.
It was the most peace he'd
found since starting college.
* * *
Notes:
This poem is long, so its character (Kevin Stiller, Daniel Hazeline), setting, and content notes appear separately.