Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Just a Ghost

I was in Niagara Falls the other day wasting time and I made the mistake of driving around Cayuga Island.

I used to have a lot of friends that lived in that part of LaSalle. I spent a big chunk of my youth on that island.

I can't think of the name of it now, but there's a road all the way in the back along the river. There are some beautiful houses back there. There was a girl who lived for a short time in one of those houses.

Of course this is about a girl, Chaz.

I used to go over and help her with her math homework. There was one day I remember so vividly: it was a sunny spring day and she's waiting for me on her porch. It's a big red/rust colored brick house with a big porch with fire wood stacked in one corner and a swing/bench thingie on the other side. And she's sitting on the edge of the porch in her Doc Martens and plaid skirt and black wife-beater tank top. Although we didn't call them "wife-beaters" back then. We went for a drive and cranked the tunes up and went real fast.

She was friends with all my friends.

This little group has always been and always will until the end.

The problem is she was only in town for the school year then she disappeared. She told us she was from Toronto, but that could have just been a story. There are also no pictures of her. I found one I took in the lunchroom or something & she's in the background, but she's totally out of focus and blurry.

And when I was driving down her old street the other day I couldn't find her house. There were houses with big porches, but they weren't brick. And the brick houses didn't have the same kind of porch. Or they were laid out differently. Or they weren't as close to the road as her house was.

Maybe she was just a ghost. Maybe we just imagined her. Maybe she was a figment of my imagination.

But she seemed so real.
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