Poem: "Come to a New Point of View"
This is spillover from the July 4, 2023 Poetry Fishbowl. It was inspired by prompts from ng_moonmoth, wyld_dandelyon, and Dreamwidth user Readera. It also fills the "blankets / tarps" 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 follows "Not Until We Are Lost."
Warning: This poem contains intense and controversial topics. Highlight to read the more detailed warnings, some of which are spoilers. It includes desperate longing, existential dread, educational abuse, asking for help and getting it, drug abuse, moral injury, kernel panic, and other challenges. If these are sensitive issues for you, please consider your tastes and headspace before reading onward.
"Come to a New Point of View"
[Saturday, July 14, 2007]
As they rolled into the parking lot
at Emerald Mountain Glen, Daniel
tapped on the horn of his truck,
rousing Kevin from his doze.
Several people popped out of
the buildings and bushes around
the parking lot, bright hippie clothes
standing out in the summer sun.
"Hey, folks," Daniel said. "I picked up
your guest on the way here. His name's
Kevin Stiller and he's a bit overheated.
Someone want to give him a hand?"
Several someones did, and before
Kevin could stop blushing with
embarrassment, two guys had
taken his bike to the bike parking
while a couple of teens scooped
him out of the seat and got him
more-or-less on his feet again.
With one of them hovering on
either side of him just in case.
The girl was blonde and chunky,
wearing a long skirt; the boy had
floppy brown hair falling in his face.
"Hi, I'm Abundance Brown and
this is my brother Patchouli,"
she said cheerfully. "Can
we help you with anything?"
"Could use a quiet room,"
Kevin admitted. "Tired."
"Sure, no problem," she said.
"It's a bit of a walk, but we can
take you to the screened porch
on the renovated garage."
Kevin yearned for a place
where you could get help
simply by asking for it.
The other places he had
explored on the Peace Trail
were nice, but not like this.
They had not roused
this desperate longing.
He hadn't felt like, maybe,
something could finally fill up
the empty ache inside him.
Not like he did here.
Kevin managed to wave
as Daniel backed his truck
out of the parking lot, but lost
his balance in the process.
"Hey, you don't look so good,"
Patchouli said, sounding worried.
"When was the last time you had
anything to eat or drink today?"
"I ate breakfast," Kevin said,
struggling to think. "Then Daniel
shared his tea on the way here."
Patchouli shook his head.
"Caffeine isn't very helpful in
this heat," he said. "We'll find
you something better to drink."
"It's lunchtime," said Abundance.
"There's no shortage of food."
"I'm not hungry," Kevin said,
"but thanks for asking anyway."
He was almost never hungry
anymore. College had melted
the puppy fat right off him.
Abundance frowned, closed
her hand around Kevin's wrist,
then stroked her warm fingers
down the side of his ribcage.
"I can feel your bones," she said.
"Are you sick or something?"
"Or something," Kevin muttered,
looking away from her gaze.
The stimulants tended to kill
appetite -- in fact, when he had
gotten to where the energy drinks
were no longer enough, he'd started
bumming diet pills from the girls in
his classes, before he moved on
to the stronger street drugs.
"College has me pretty strung out,"
Kevin said, offering a different excuse.
"Peace Trail helps, but it's just for
summer, then I have to go back."
"Do you really?" Patchouli murmured.
"Are you sure that's your path?"
"In here," Abundance said,
steering them into the shade
of a screened porch full of
hanging lanterns and
exotic knickknacks.
The cool green of
potted plants made for
a soothing accent against
the warm brown wood.
The two teens lowered
Kevin gently onto a couch
covered in throw pillows.
His fingers found fur, velvet,
knitted wool, embroidered silk.
Fringes tickled his wrists.
Kevin sank down into
the soft refuge, muscles
going limp with relief.
"Patchouli, you stay here
with Kevin," said Abundance.
"I'm going to get some drinks.
I'll be back as soon as I can."
"Mmkay," said Kevin. He was
thirsty enough to drink plain water.
"I'm sorry to hear that you've had
such a hard time," said Patchouli.
Kevin twitched one shoulder
in a half-hearted shrug. "I've
had it worse for finals," he said.
"It's still a bummer, though,"
said Patchouli. "I'm here
if you need anything."
"Got any sage advice?"
Kevin dared the teen.
"Maybe you could view
challenging situations and
people as opportunities
to practice patience as
a pathway to peace,"
Patchouli suggested.
Kevin raised his eyebrows.
"That was pretty deep stuff,
coming from a kid your age."
"I'm a third-generation hippie,"
Patchouli said, quirking a smile.
"So I come by it naturally."
Kevin thought about it, and
realized that it was actually
good advice, if he could do it.
"Okay, I'll give it a try," he said.
Then Abundance came back
with an armload of large tumblers
full of something the color of pale jade.
"I brought cucumber-mint coolers,"
she said, setting them on an end table.
Patchouli snatched one and slurped it.
"Thanks, this is great," he said.
Kevin took his and sniffed
cautiously. It smelled wet and
green. He took a tentative sip.
Flavors flowed over his tongue,
cucumber and lemon and mint.
It was only slightly sweet, but
it was the most refreshing thing
that Kevin had ever tasted.
He was maybe clutching at
the tumbler like a life preserver.
A soft touch on his wrist made
him look up at Abundance.
"Sip slowly," she suggested.
"When you're hot, drinking
too fast can upset your tummy."
Oh right. Kevin remembered that.
With a sigh, he set down the drink.
"Don't worry, there's plenty more
where that came from if you want
a refill later," said Abundance.
Kevin would definitely want a refill.
It was amazing. He liked it better than
the Voltage soda and energy drinks he'd
been living on, which was saying a lot.
Somehow, even without any caffeine,
he felt better than he had in hours.
"Do you want to talk about
whatever has you so stressed?"
Patchouli asked. "We'll listen."
"Not much to tell," said Kevin.
"My parents are paying for college,
so they get to pick my major, and
they make me take a lot of classes
to get their money's worth. It's ...
not a great fit for me, and it sucks."
"That sounds kind of abusive,"
said Abundance. "It's your life,
they don't get to make choices
for you once you're an adult."
"Hey, no," Kevin protested.
"My parents aren't abusive.
They want me to succeed."
"There are many types of
emotional abuse, but most is
done in an attempt to control
or subjugate another person,"
said Abundance. "It's not all
about screaming insults."
"Emotional abuse is like
brainwashing in the way it
systematically wears away
at the victim's self-confidence,
sense of self, and his trust
in his own perceptions,"
said Patchouli. "You do
sound like that's happening."
Kevin scrubbed his hands
over his face. Was it really
abuse? He couldn't tell.
He knew that he hated
college in general and
Business in particular.
It just grated on him,
felt wrong in every way.
But his parents were
paying for it. Didn't that
give them a right to spend
their money as they wanted?
Then he thought about how
some guys believed buying
dinner for a girl entitled them
to a night in her bed, and that
made him feel uncomfortable.
But that was different, wasn't it?
College cost a lot more than dinner,
and it was supposed to set him up
for a whole successful career. Didn't
all parents want their kids to succeed?
Kevin wasn't sure whether he wanted
to succeed, if it felt this bad already.
His heart hurt; his everything hurt;
he was barely eating or sleeping --
and this was summer; it would
only get worse in the fall.
How much more of this
could he stand, realistically?
Sooner or later he was
going to take a bad batch of
something, or his body would
just give out from the strain.
He was only halfway through,
and he wasn't sure he could
make it for two more years.
Kevin's head was spinning.
Grabbing his drink, he finished
it in slow sips, so that he wouldn't
have to talk with his mouth full.
"Hey, if you don't want to talk
about this, you don't have to,"
Abundance said gently.
"Yeah, we can back off,"
Patchouli said, laying a hand
on Kevin's shoulder. "We
didn't mean to upset you."
"You didn't," Kevin said
as he put down the tumbler.
"I was already shaken up
by the time I got here. I've
been able to unwind a little
this summer, but it's not
enough to make up for
all of the earlier stress."
"Then just be here now,"
said Patchouli. "Don't worry
about the past or the future.
Get yourself grounded."
"He's right," said Abundance.
She tapped a foot on the floor.
"Concentrate on what's real."
"The problem is, I can’t tell
what is real anymore, and
what’s made up," Kevin said
as he curled in on himself.
"My parents kind of set up
my whole worldview, and
it's like ... I can't breathe."
"Then sit up and take
a few deep breaths before
you faint or something,"
said Abundance. She
prodded him more upright.
Kevin tried to focus on
his breathing, like he had in
yoga class, but it was difficult
and it kept slipping away from him.
"Let it go," Patchouli urged him,
rubbing Kevin's back. "You can't
come to a new point of view until you
realize what your brainwashing has been."
The thought of that made Kevin shudder
where he sat in Patchouli's gentle grasp.
Was that what it had been, really?
Had his parents actually brainwashed him
with all their talk about college and jobs?
Maybe that was why he felt such fear
at the idea of stepping away from it,
no matter how much it hurt him
to follow the path they set.
He could hardly breathe;
he wasn't eating or sleeping
well and hadn't in years.
College wasn't just hurting
him -- it was killing him.
Kevin's heart kicked in
his chest, and it felt like
something broke in him.
"I can't go back," he gasped.
"I can't -- I can't -- it's all over.
I don't know what to do."
Sobbing, he folded
over his own knees.
The two teens moved
closer, sandwiching him
gently between them.
Abundance unfolded Kevin
and tucked a pillow into his lap.
"Here, hold this," she said. "You
need to sit up enough to breathe,
so let that protect your soft parts."
Patchouli pulled Kevin onto
his shoulder and said, "It's okay,
man, cry it out, we've got you."
Kevin cried because his world
was shattering and he couldn't
hold onto the pieces without
cutting himself to ribbons.
He clutched the pillow
like a shield against all of
the sharp edges in his life.
He cried, and they rocked him
in the soft cradle of the couch,
and they didn't tell him to stop
or that he was fine or anything.
They just held him and let him
cry as much as he needed to.
Eventually, even that river of
tears began to dry up, leaving
Kevin beached and breathless
on the muddy shore of his soul.
Patchouli produced a handkerchief
from somewhere and then gently
cleaned off Kevin's face for him.
That was good, because Kevin
wasn't up to doing much of
anything for himself right now.
"How are you feeling?"
Abundance asked him.
"Empty. Exhausted,"
Kevin said, then added
in a smaller voice, "Scared."
"That's normal," said Patchouli.
"You've been through a lot."
"I don't know what to do,"
Kevin said, sighing. "I don't
even know where to start."
"Start by taking care of
yourself," said Abundance.
"You don't need to worry about
anything else -- you've got time
scheduled here before anyone
will even expect you back."
"Two weeks," Kevin said.
"Peace Trail gave me
two weeks at each stop."
"That's enough time to start
getting you back on your feet,"
said Abundance. "It'll be easier
to think about next steps when
you're actually thinking clearly."
"We'll stick by you and help
you with that," said Patchouli.
"We like taking care of folks."
"Thank you," said Kevin.
"I'd be lost without you."
A soft knock at the entrance
made all of them look up.
The woman was softly rounded,
with flowers in her blonde hair, and
she wore a tie-dyed T-shirt dress.
"I heard that you kids found
our Peace Trail guest," she said.
"Hi, Kevin, I'm Mountain Rose Brown.
I was supposed to be your greeter,
but we had a bit of a situation."
"Goats in the garden again?"
Abundance asked, laughing.
"That's the third time this week."
"I don't know how they're
getting in, we've fixed
that fence four times,"
said Mountain Rose.
"Goats are smart,"
said Patchouli.
"Anyway, I thought
that I'd drop by and see
what you want for lunch,"
said Mountain Rose.
The teens clamored
with suggestions, while
Kevin said, "No thanks."
Mountain Rose frowned.
"Upset tummy?" she said.
"No, just not hungry,"
Kevin said, not wanting
to get into that again.
"Jumpy monkeys,"
said Patchouli, making
no sense whatsoever.
Mountain Rose raised
her eyebrows. "Oh, dear,"
she said. "Well, I'll bring
an assortment so folks
can nibble as they wish."
She disappeared back into
the shadows of the building.
"What was that all about?"
Kevin said, shaking his head.
"You mentioned drinking tea
on the way here," said Patchouli.
"Caffeine and other stimulants
can undermine appetite. You
might be hungry and not know it."
"Yeah, some girls take diet pills
with caffeine," said Abundance.
"I never saw the point. Who
wants to snuggle a skeleton?"
"Hey," Patchouli said gently,
tipping his head at Kevin.
"Oops, sorry, that was
mean," said Abundance.
Kevin shrugged. "But true."
"True, but neither kind nor
necessary," she countered.
It had the feeling of a quote,
but Kevin didn't recognize it.
Soon Mountain Rose returned
with a tray holding sandwiches,
bowls of produce, and more
of the cucumber-mint cooler.
This time Kevin didn't hesitate
to grab a tumbler for himself.
Mountain Rose put the tray on
an end table. "Kevin, just try
a bite or two of something,"
she suggested. "Maybe
your appetite will wake up."
"Have a sprout sandwich,"
Patchouli said, pointing.
"These are really light,
great for summer lunch."
They were also tiny, no more
than a quarter-slice of bread,
cut into cute little triangles.
Curious, Kevin tried one.
He could taste cool greens,
some sort of sprouts, and
the tang of a creamy spread.
It was gone in about three bites.
"That's not bad," he mused.
"Cucumber, watercress, a mix
of sprouts, and yogurt cheese,"
said Abundance. "I love these."
"The other sandwiches have
ginger egg salad, tasty and
good for delicate digestion,"
Mountain Rose said, offering
a plate with more tiny triangles.
Kevin took one. He was learning
that the food here was really good.
It was different than the egg salad
served in the dorms, light and zesty.
He finished it and licked his fingers.
The teens were sharing a bowl of
something that looked like berries
but wasn't, in all different colors.
"Try a tomato?" Abundance invited.
"These are 'Cherry Poppers' and
some 'Chocolate Covered Cherries.'
If you're used to styrofoam tomatoes
from the store, these'll blow your mind."
There were pink, red, purple, and
brown ones along with a few that
were partly yellow or almost black.
Kevin tried a brown one, and yeah,
it did have kind of a chocolatey note.
The pink one tasted much sweeter.
"I brought some raspberries for
dessert," said Mountain Rose.
"They're black," Kevin said.
They gleamed like onyx beads.
"These are wild black raspberries,
and they have a longer season
than the domestic pink kind,"
Mountain Rose explained.
"They taste like blackberries,"
said Patchouli. "If you like those,
then you'll probably like these too."
He popped a handful in his mouth.
Kevin sampled one. It was sweet,
but had a much darker flavor than
the pink raspberries he was used to.
He ate another, trying to decide
whether he liked them or not,
his hands brushing against
Patchouli's, and before he
knew it, the bowl was empty.
The things were so sweet
they didn't even need sugar.
He'd never had anything like it.
Kevin yawned. Eating that much
was making him feel drowsy,
even this early in the day.
"Come on, Kevin, let's
find you a place to sleep,"
Mountain Rose said as
she held out a hand.
"You don't have one
already?" Kevin yelped,
but he let her pull him up.
"We have several," she said.
"Anyone with a spare bed can
offer to host guests. This way,
you have a choice about who
to stay with while you visit."
"Yeah, it'd suck to make friends
and then not be able to stay
with them," said Patchouli.
"I guess that's true," Kevin said
as they left the porch and went
back through the building. "What
are my options for sleep space?"
Mountain Rose had just gotten
started listing them when a man
pushed away from the wall and
said, "You could crash with me."
Kevin blinked at him. The man
looked vaguely familiar, his eyes
hidden by dark glasses, brown hair
held back by a bright headband.
He wore a tie-dye T-shirt with
a pot leaf on it. His bottoms
were more patches than pants.
Several strings of hippie beads
dangled down his chest.
"Why invite me?" Kevin said.
"Do we know each other?"
"I'm Skiddoo," he said. "I
overheard a few things while
I was parking your bike, and
thought I should stick around
to see if you needed a hand
with anything else today."
"Oh, that's a great idea,"
Mountain Rose said brightly.
Kevin figured that anyone who'd
help a stranger and offer a bed
was probably worth knowing.
"Yeah, okay," he agreed.
"Great," said Skiddoo. "I've
got an A-frame not far from here,
and the loft is available. I think
that you'll enjoy staying there."
Kevin said his goodbyes to
the teens and their mother,
thanking them for their help.
Skiddoo led him back to
the parking lot and helped
move the saddlebags from
Kevin's bike to the truck.
"You pack awful light,"
Skiddoo observed.
"I have to," said Kevin.
"Peace Trail includes
backpacking as well as
staying at places that do
different kinds of peacework."
The ride in the truck almost
put Kevin to sleep again.
He couldn't remember
the last time he had felt
so tired. Then again, he'd
only had one Voltage soda,
which was way below usual.
"We're here," Skiddoo said,
and came around to open
the door. He even picked up
Kevin's saddlebags to carry.
The A-frame was beautiful,
a soft blue-gray with white trim
that blended into the forest.
A wooden deck spanned
the front, surrounded by
beds of shady flowers.
Inside, the living room had
a wraparound couch facing
a fireplace, and on the far side,
a dining table and a record player.
"The kitchen, bathroom, and
my bedroom are in the back,"
Skidoo said, waving a hand.
"The loft is up these stairs."
The stairs were narrow and
steep, but enclosed between
the fireplace and the side wall.
Kevin set his foot on the first step
and sighed. Just looking at them
made him feel even tireder.
A warm hand on his back
gave him the strength that
he needed to drag himself
up the flight of stairs.
The loft opened up over
the living room, edged
by a waist-high wall with
a desk and chair pushed
into the corner of it.
A squashy chair sat
nearby, along with
a coffee table full of
games and puzzles.
A wicker basket held
pillows and blankets.
"Here's your bathroom,"
Skidoo said, opening it.
The sink and the toilet were
wedged under the angled roof,
but there was a bathtub with
shower done in rainbow tiles.
"You can make yourself a nest
in here," Skiddoo said as he
guided Kevin deeper into the loft.
It was the most perfect refuge that
Kevin had ever seen in his life.
A shaggy rug covered most of
the floor under the back windows,
and tapestries softened the ceiling.
Fanciful lanterns and strings of lights
dangled overhead, giving everything
a warm and welcoming radiance.
Piles of cushions in different colors,
shapes, and textures lined the walls.
There were more blankets, and stacks
of books, and even potted plants.
Kevin wanted to curl up in it
and never have to leave.
"Imma just ... here's good,"
Kevin mumbled as he sank
onto a row of cushions and
petted their velveteen of
turquoise and dove gray.
"Sure man, let's make you
comfortable," said Skiddoo.
He added more cushions
to make a bigger bed, then
tugged off Kevin's shoes and
draped a light afghan over him.
"Sleep it off, Kevin, I'll stay
right here and keep an eye
on you," Skiddoo said.
The last thing Kevin saw
was the skinny man folding
himself into tailor pose and
picking up a nearby book.
The room was cool and
comfortable, air conditioner
purring softly in the window.
Kevin curled a hand around
the afghan and fell asleep.
* * *
Notes:
This poem is long, so its character, 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 desperate longing, existential dread, educational abuse, asking for help and getting it, drug abuse, moral injury, kernel panic, and other challenges. If these are sensitive issues for you, please consider your tastes and headspace before reading onward.
"Come to a New Point of View"
[Saturday, July 14, 2007]
As they rolled into the parking lot
at Emerald Mountain Glen, Daniel
tapped on the horn of his truck,
rousing Kevin from his doze.
Several people popped out of
the buildings and bushes around
the parking lot, bright hippie clothes
standing out in the summer sun.
"Hey, folks," Daniel said. "I picked up
your guest on the way here. His name's
Kevin Stiller and he's a bit overheated.
Someone want to give him a hand?"
Several someones did, and before
Kevin could stop blushing with
embarrassment, two guys had
taken his bike to the bike parking
while a couple of teens scooped
him out of the seat and got him
more-or-less on his feet again.
With one of them hovering on
either side of him just in case.
The girl was blonde and chunky,
wearing a long skirt; the boy had
floppy brown hair falling in his face.
"Hi, I'm Abundance Brown and
this is my brother Patchouli,"
she said cheerfully. "Can
we help you with anything?"
"Could use a quiet room,"
Kevin admitted. "Tired."
"Sure, no problem," she said.
"It's a bit of a walk, but we can
take you to the screened porch
on the renovated garage."
Kevin yearned for a place
where you could get help
simply by asking for it.
The other places he had
explored on the Peace Trail
were nice, but not like this.
They had not roused
this desperate longing.
He hadn't felt like, maybe,
something could finally fill up
the empty ache inside him.
Not like he did here.
Kevin managed to wave
as Daniel backed his truck
out of the parking lot, but lost
his balance in the process.
"Hey, you don't look so good,"
Patchouli said, sounding worried.
"When was the last time you had
anything to eat or drink today?"
"I ate breakfast," Kevin said,
struggling to think. "Then Daniel
shared his tea on the way here."
Patchouli shook his head.
"Caffeine isn't very helpful in
this heat," he said. "We'll find
you something better to drink."
"It's lunchtime," said Abundance.
"There's no shortage of food."
"I'm not hungry," Kevin said,
"but thanks for asking anyway."
He was almost never hungry
anymore. College had melted
the puppy fat right off him.
Abundance frowned, closed
her hand around Kevin's wrist,
then stroked her warm fingers
down the side of his ribcage.
"I can feel your bones," she said.
"Are you sick or something?"
"Or something," Kevin muttered,
looking away from her gaze.
The stimulants tended to kill
appetite -- in fact, when he had
gotten to where the energy drinks
were no longer enough, he'd started
bumming diet pills from the girls in
his classes, before he moved on
to the stronger street drugs.
"College has me pretty strung out,"
Kevin said, offering a different excuse.
"Peace Trail helps, but it's just for
summer, then I have to go back."
"Do you really?" Patchouli murmured.
"Are you sure that's your path?"
"In here," Abundance said,
steering them into the shade
of a screened porch full of
hanging lanterns and
exotic knickknacks.
The cool green of
potted plants made for
a soothing accent against
the warm brown wood.
The two teens lowered
Kevin gently onto a couch
covered in throw pillows.
His fingers found fur, velvet,
knitted wool, embroidered silk.
Fringes tickled his wrists.
Kevin sank down into
the soft refuge, muscles
going limp with relief.
"Patchouli, you stay here
with Kevin," said Abundance.
"I'm going to get some drinks.
I'll be back as soon as I can."
"Mmkay," said Kevin. He was
thirsty enough to drink plain water.
"I'm sorry to hear that you've had
such a hard time," said Patchouli.
Kevin twitched one shoulder
in a half-hearted shrug. "I've
had it worse for finals," he said.
"It's still a bummer, though,"
said Patchouli. "I'm here
if you need anything."
"Got any sage advice?"
Kevin dared the teen.
"Maybe you could view
challenging situations and
people as opportunities
to practice patience as
a pathway to peace,"
Patchouli suggested.
Kevin raised his eyebrows.
"That was pretty deep stuff,
coming from a kid your age."
"I'm a third-generation hippie,"
Patchouli said, quirking a smile.
"So I come by it naturally."
Kevin thought about it, and
realized that it was actually
good advice, if he could do it.
"Okay, I'll give it a try," he said.
Then Abundance came back
with an armload of large tumblers
full of something the color of pale jade.
"I brought cucumber-mint coolers,"
she said, setting them on an end table.
Patchouli snatched one and slurped it.
"Thanks, this is great," he said.
Kevin took his and sniffed
cautiously. It smelled wet and
green. He took a tentative sip.
Flavors flowed over his tongue,
cucumber and lemon and mint.
It was only slightly sweet, but
it was the most refreshing thing
that Kevin had ever tasted.
He was maybe clutching at
the tumbler like a life preserver.
A soft touch on his wrist made
him look up at Abundance.
"Sip slowly," she suggested.
"When you're hot, drinking
too fast can upset your tummy."
Oh right. Kevin remembered that.
With a sigh, he set down the drink.
"Don't worry, there's plenty more
where that came from if you want
a refill later," said Abundance.
Kevin would definitely want a refill.
It was amazing. He liked it better than
the Voltage soda and energy drinks he'd
been living on, which was saying a lot.
Somehow, even without any caffeine,
he felt better than he had in hours.
"Do you want to talk about
whatever has you so stressed?"
Patchouli asked. "We'll listen."
"Not much to tell," said Kevin.
"My parents are paying for college,
so they get to pick my major, and
they make me take a lot of classes
to get their money's worth. It's ...
not a great fit for me, and it sucks."
"That sounds kind of abusive,"
said Abundance. "It's your life,
they don't get to make choices
for you once you're an adult."
"Hey, no," Kevin protested.
"My parents aren't abusive.
They want me to succeed."
"There are many types of
emotional abuse, but most is
done in an attempt to control
or subjugate another person,"
said Abundance. "It's not all
about screaming insults."
"Emotional abuse is like
brainwashing in the way it
systematically wears away
at the victim's self-confidence,
sense of self, and his trust
in his own perceptions,"
said Patchouli. "You do
sound like that's happening."
Kevin scrubbed his hands
over his face. Was it really
abuse? He couldn't tell.
He knew that he hated
college in general and
Business in particular.
It just grated on him,
felt wrong in every way.
But his parents were
paying for it. Didn't that
give them a right to spend
their money as they wanted?
Then he thought about how
some guys believed buying
dinner for a girl entitled them
to a night in her bed, and that
made him feel uncomfortable.
But that was different, wasn't it?
College cost a lot more than dinner,
and it was supposed to set him up
for a whole successful career. Didn't
all parents want their kids to succeed?
Kevin wasn't sure whether he wanted
to succeed, if it felt this bad already.
His heart hurt; his everything hurt;
he was barely eating or sleeping --
and this was summer; it would
only get worse in the fall.
How much more of this
could he stand, realistically?
Sooner or later he was
going to take a bad batch of
something, or his body would
just give out from the strain.
He was only halfway through,
and he wasn't sure he could
make it for two more years.
Kevin's head was spinning.
Grabbing his drink, he finished
it in slow sips, so that he wouldn't
have to talk with his mouth full.
"Hey, if you don't want to talk
about this, you don't have to,"
Abundance said gently.
"Yeah, we can back off,"
Patchouli said, laying a hand
on Kevin's shoulder. "We
didn't mean to upset you."
"You didn't," Kevin said
as he put down the tumbler.
"I was already shaken up
by the time I got here. I've
been able to unwind a little
this summer, but it's not
enough to make up for
all of the earlier stress."
"Then just be here now,"
said Patchouli. "Don't worry
about the past or the future.
Get yourself grounded."
"He's right," said Abundance.
She tapped a foot on the floor.
"Concentrate on what's real."
"The problem is, I can’t tell
what is real anymore, and
what’s made up," Kevin said
as he curled in on himself.
"My parents kind of set up
my whole worldview, and
it's like ... I can't breathe."
"Then sit up and take
a few deep breaths before
you faint or something,"
said Abundance. She
prodded him more upright.
Kevin tried to focus on
his breathing, like he had in
yoga class, but it was difficult
and it kept slipping away from him.
"Let it go," Patchouli urged him,
rubbing Kevin's back. "You can't
come to a new point of view until you
realize what your brainwashing has been."
The thought of that made Kevin shudder
where he sat in Patchouli's gentle grasp.
Was that what it had been, really?
Had his parents actually brainwashed him
with all their talk about college and jobs?
Maybe that was why he felt such fear
at the idea of stepping away from it,
no matter how much it hurt him
to follow the path they set.
He could hardly breathe;
he wasn't eating or sleeping
well and hadn't in years.
College wasn't just hurting
him -- it was killing him.
Kevin's heart kicked in
his chest, and it felt like
something broke in him.
"I can't go back," he gasped.
"I can't -- I can't -- it's all over.
I don't know what to do."
Sobbing, he folded
over his own knees.
The two teens moved
closer, sandwiching him
gently between them.
Abundance unfolded Kevin
and tucked a pillow into his lap.
"Here, hold this," she said. "You
need to sit up enough to breathe,
so let that protect your soft parts."
Patchouli pulled Kevin onto
his shoulder and said, "It's okay,
man, cry it out, we've got you."
Kevin cried because his world
was shattering and he couldn't
hold onto the pieces without
cutting himself to ribbons.
He clutched the pillow
like a shield against all of
the sharp edges in his life.
He cried, and they rocked him
in the soft cradle of the couch,
and they didn't tell him to stop
or that he was fine or anything.
They just held him and let him
cry as much as he needed to.
Eventually, even that river of
tears began to dry up, leaving
Kevin beached and breathless
on the muddy shore of his soul.
Patchouli produced a handkerchief
from somewhere and then gently
cleaned off Kevin's face for him.
That was good, because Kevin
wasn't up to doing much of
anything for himself right now.
"How are you feeling?"
Abundance asked him.
"Empty. Exhausted,"
Kevin said, then added
in a smaller voice, "Scared."
"That's normal," said Patchouli.
"You've been through a lot."
"I don't know what to do,"
Kevin said, sighing. "I don't
even know where to start."
"Start by taking care of
yourself," said Abundance.
"You don't need to worry about
anything else -- you've got time
scheduled here before anyone
will even expect you back."
"Two weeks," Kevin said.
"Peace Trail gave me
two weeks at each stop."
"That's enough time to start
getting you back on your feet,"
said Abundance. "It'll be easier
to think about next steps when
you're actually thinking clearly."
"We'll stick by you and help
you with that," said Patchouli.
"We like taking care of folks."
"Thank you," said Kevin.
"I'd be lost without you."
A soft knock at the entrance
made all of them look up.
The woman was softly rounded,
with flowers in her blonde hair, and
she wore a tie-dyed T-shirt dress.
"I heard that you kids found
our Peace Trail guest," she said.
"Hi, Kevin, I'm Mountain Rose Brown.
I was supposed to be your greeter,
but we had a bit of a situation."
"Goats in the garden again?"
Abundance asked, laughing.
"That's the third time this week."
"I don't know how they're
getting in, we've fixed
that fence four times,"
said Mountain Rose.
"Goats are smart,"
said Patchouli.
"Anyway, I thought
that I'd drop by and see
what you want for lunch,"
said Mountain Rose.
The teens clamored
with suggestions, while
Kevin said, "No thanks."
Mountain Rose frowned.
"Upset tummy?" she said.
"No, just not hungry,"
Kevin said, not wanting
to get into that again.
"Jumpy monkeys,"
said Patchouli, making
no sense whatsoever.
Mountain Rose raised
her eyebrows. "Oh, dear,"
she said. "Well, I'll bring
an assortment so folks
can nibble as they wish."
She disappeared back into
the shadows of the building.
"What was that all about?"
Kevin said, shaking his head.
"You mentioned drinking tea
on the way here," said Patchouli.
"Caffeine and other stimulants
can undermine appetite. You
might be hungry and not know it."
"Yeah, some girls take diet pills
with caffeine," said Abundance.
"I never saw the point. Who
wants to snuggle a skeleton?"
"Hey," Patchouli said gently,
tipping his head at Kevin.
"Oops, sorry, that was
mean," said Abundance.
Kevin shrugged. "But true."
"True, but neither kind nor
necessary," she countered.
It had the feeling of a quote,
but Kevin didn't recognize it.
Soon Mountain Rose returned
with a tray holding sandwiches,
bowls of produce, and more
of the cucumber-mint cooler.
This time Kevin didn't hesitate
to grab a tumbler for himself.
Mountain Rose put the tray on
an end table. "Kevin, just try
a bite or two of something,"
she suggested. "Maybe
your appetite will wake up."
"Have a sprout sandwich,"
Patchouli said, pointing.
"These are really light,
great for summer lunch."
They were also tiny, no more
than a quarter-slice of bread,
cut into cute little triangles.
Curious, Kevin tried one.
He could taste cool greens,
some sort of sprouts, and
the tang of a creamy spread.
It was gone in about three bites.
"That's not bad," he mused.
"Cucumber, watercress, a mix
of sprouts, and yogurt cheese,"
said Abundance. "I love these."
"The other sandwiches have
ginger egg salad, tasty and
good for delicate digestion,"
Mountain Rose said, offering
a plate with more tiny triangles.
Kevin took one. He was learning
that the food here was really good.
It was different than the egg salad
served in the dorms, light and zesty.
He finished it and licked his fingers.
The teens were sharing a bowl of
something that looked like berries
but wasn't, in all different colors.
"Try a tomato?" Abundance invited.
"These are 'Cherry Poppers' and
some 'Chocolate Covered Cherries.'
If you're used to styrofoam tomatoes
from the store, these'll blow your mind."
There were pink, red, purple, and
brown ones along with a few that
were partly yellow or almost black.
Kevin tried a brown one, and yeah,
it did have kind of a chocolatey note.
The pink one tasted much sweeter.
"I brought some raspberries for
dessert," said Mountain Rose.
"They're black," Kevin said.
They gleamed like onyx beads.
"These are wild black raspberries,
and they have a longer season
than the domestic pink kind,"
Mountain Rose explained.
"They taste like blackberries,"
said Patchouli. "If you like those,
then you'll probably like these too."
He popped a handful in his mouth.
Kevin sampled one. It was sweet,
but had a much darker flavor than
the pink raspberries he was used to.
He ate another, trying to decide
whether he liked them or not,
his hands brushing against
Patchouli's, and before he
knew it, the bowl was empty.
The things were so sweet
they didn't even need sugar.
He'd never had anything like it.
Kevin yawned. Eating that much
was making him feel drowsy,
even this early in the day.
"Come on, Kevin, let's
find you a place to sleep,"
Mountain Rose said as
she held out a hand.
"You don't have one
already?" Kevin yelped,
but he let her pull him up.
"We have several," she said.
"Anyone with a spare bed can
offer to host guests. This way,
you have a choice about who
to stay with while you visit."
"Yeah, it'd suck to make friends
and then not be able to stay
with them," said Patchouli.
"I guess that's true," Kevin said
as they left the porch and went
back through the building. "What
are my options for sleep space?"
Mountain Rose had just gotten
started listing them when a man
pushed away from the wall and
said, "You could crash with me."
Kevin blinked at him. The man
looked vaguely familiar, his eyes
hidden by dark glasses, brown hair
held back by a bright headband.
He wore a tie-dye T-shirt with
a pot leaf on it. His bottoms
were more patches than pants.
Several strings of hippie beads
dangled down his chest.
"Why invite me?" Kevin said.
"Do we know each other?"
"I'm Skiddoo," he said. "I
overheard a few things while
I was parking your bike, and
thought I should stick around
to see if you needed a hand
with anything else today."
"Oh, that's a great idea,"
Mountain Rose said brightly.
Kevin figured that anyone who'd
help a stranger and offer a bed
was probably worth knowing.
"Yeah, okay," he agreed.
"Great," said Skiddoo. "I've
got an A-frame not far from here,
and the loft is available. I think
that you'll enjoy staying there."
Kevin said his goodbyes to
the teens and their mother,
thanking them for their help.
Skiddoo led him back to
the parking lot and helped
move the saddlebags from
Kevin's bike to the truck.
"You pack awful light,"
Skiddoo observed.
"I have to," said Kevin.
"Peace Trail includes
backpacking as well as
staying at places that do
different kinds of peacework."
The ride in the truck almost
put Kevin to sleep again.
He couldn't remember
the last time he had felt
so tired. Then again, he'd
only had one Voltage soda,
which was way below usual.
"We're here," Skiddoo said,
and came around to open
the door. He even picked up
Kevin's saddlebags to carry.
The A-frame was beautiful,
a soft blue-gray with white trim
that blended into the forest.
A wooden deck spanned
the front, surrounded by
beds of shady flowers.
Inside, the living room had
a wraparound couch facing
a fireplace, and on the far side,
a dining table and a record player.
"The kitchen, bathroom, and
my bedroom are in the back,"
Skidoo said, waving a hand.
"The loft is up these stairs."
The stairs were narrow and
steep, but enclosed between
the fireplace and the side wall.
Kevin set his foot on the first step
and sighed. Just looking at them
made him feel even tireder.
A warm hand on his back
gave him the strength that
he needed to drag himself
up the flight of stairs.
The loft opened up over
the living room, edged
by a waist-high wall with
a desk and chair pushed
into the corner of it.
A squashy chair sat
nearby, along with
a coffee table full of
games and puzzles.
A wicker basket held
pillows and blankets.
"Here's your bathroom,"
Skidoo said, opening it.
The sink and the toilet were
wedged under the angled roof,
but there was a bathtub with
shower done in rainbow tiles.
"You can make yourself a nest
in here," Skiddoo said as he
guided Kevin deeper into the loft.
It was the most perfect refuge that
Kevin had ever seen in his life.
A shaggy rug covered most of
the floor under the back windows,
and tapestries softened the ceiling.
Fanciful lanterns and strings of lights
dangled overhead, giving everything
a warm and welcoming radiance.
Piles of cushions in different colors,
shapes, and textures lined the walls.
There were more blankets, and stacks
of books, and even potted plants.
Kevin wanted to curl up in it
and never have to leave.
"Imma just ... here's good,"
Kevin mumbled as he sank
onto a row of cushions and
petted their velveteen of
turquoise and dove gray.
"Sure man, let's make you
comfortable," said Skiddoo.
He added more cushions
to make a bigger bed, then
tugged off Kevin's shoes and
draped a light afghan over him.
"Sleep it off, Kevin, I'll stay
right here and keep an eye
on you," Skiddoo said.
The last thing Kevin saw
was the skinny man folding
himself into tailor pose and
picking up a nearby book.
The room was cool and
comfortable, air conditioner
purring softly in the window.
Kevin curled a hand around
the afghan and fell asleep.
* * *
Notes:
This poem is long, so its character, setting, and content notes appear separately.