Welcome.
  • Home
  • Blog
  • Book
  • On Cinema
    • Essays on Film
    • Top Film Lists & Reflections
    • On Terrence Malick
    • Nathan's Thesis
  • Photography
    • Death in Paris
    • Venizia
    • Napoli
    • Havana
    • Roma
    • Seoul
    • Milano
    • Shenzhen
  • Intern Call
  • Men I Trust
  • About
  • Press
  • Speeches!
  • Upcoming Shows
  • Films

Leave the Questions

5/19/2018

2 Comments

 
Picture
Stories come out slowly sometimes, awkwardly. They belch and burp their way forth. This young man approached from the bus’s crowded interior with a hesitance, standing by me as I drove, no reason given. I thought he was about to jump off. He wasn’t. He just watched me, keeping to the side, while I greeted and fared the people well, wrapping the wheel around the corners, accents and smiles bouncing off me as I registered his gaze beside me. What was he thinking, beneath that knit beanie? Behind the dirty off-gray sweatshirt with the high school logo, the army camo fatigues tied round at the bottom, the better to display his basketball socks and shoes? Finally I just went for it. 

“How's it been goin’?”
“Iss coo’,” he replied, in a monotone I took to be standard-issue emotionless male adolescent, but which quickly revealed itself to be something more. “I was just in this accident though. The driver died.”
“Aoouuugh,” I said. He was young. Should a high-schooler know the face of death this well? “I’m so sorry. Somebody you knew?”

I wasn’t looking at his face, but it felt like I was, hearing the naked grit in his voice: “mah best friend.”
“Aaaooo,” I moaned again. “I am so sorry. I know how that feels.”
“And he was a good guy too, he had a job, just turned twenty-six. He the type a guy he'd give you his last five dollars, you know?”

​I breathed in, feeling the words travel down, the memories behind them, as they slid to the pit of my stomach. Let yourself go there, I thought. A positive worldview should be able to tolerate anything. What is optimism? Optimism is being comfortable looking at truth, even if it’s negative. I don’t understand how this place works, but I like living here. Life may be unfair, but people don’t have to be. What are we here for, if not to help our fellow man through a spot of hardship? I felt his burden too, and tried to share it with words.

“Oh my gosh, that's heavy,” I said. “I know what you mean though. It's the best people I know, that die young. I don't understand it.”
“Yeah.”
“I guess all we can do is keep that person’s good spirit alive, let ‘em live through our actions.” I meant it, but it sounded false, the comforts you’re not ready to hear in the days after. 

We were facing the mystery around which religions are built, ideologies and philosophies, the one question no amount of millennia can conclusively answer: why do bad things happen to good people? It’s the humanized condensation of yet a larger query. You’ve asked it even if you don’t think you have. Why does order in the universe seem present sometimes and absent at others? Most human thought stems from this question, and it is our nature to ask it, no matter how smartly the ol’ Universe keeps its secrets. We know we can never know, are not allowed to know, and yet…. Sure, he was a husky macho man of a teenager, but I knew the question lived in his mind also. The doubt.

“Yeah, ‘cause I used to think you know when I was little, if you're a good person, then you're gonna live a long time. And it just ain't true. At all.”
“It's almost like it's the opposite,” he murmured.
“Or something.”

Do actions have consequences?

“I think when it's your time, it's your time.”
“Yeah. That makes sense.” I nodded again. I’ll take the suggestion of order, even if I can’t comprehend it. “That makes sense.” 

Maybe it’s not about consequences. Maybe it’s acting qua acting, for the sake of itself, how it makes you feel… for the good it does yourself and others. Maybe that is its own reward. I mused: “the thing is, I still wanna be a good dude. Even if I don't live a long time, I wanna feel good about the stuff I do in this life, you know?”
“Yeah. I think it's like God givin’ me a second chance.”
“Yeah, an opportunity.” I looked at his cast. “How's your hand?”

He mentioned pain pills, numbness, two more months of the cast. I said something about how that's better than a wheelchair. He said yeah. He opened up as the bus emptied out; just us now. 

There were three others in the car, he explained. His best friend, his girlfriend, and his best friend’s girlfriend. One girl broke both her legs, and the other her ribs. His friend the driver gone. It went unspoken who made out the best. Our friend’s lasting problem is not a physical injury but a psychological one, a roiling storm he will likely never manage to convey to others who haven’t also experienced similar catastrophes. He will know the force of the questions above with a slamming weight unique to him, and the resulting loneliness will inform his every thought and action to a degree even he won’t be able to wrap his mind around. It will be this haze, the invisible suffering that gives him the long view, but keeps him forever distant.

There is a type of grief where you have no tears left. You can’t cry; you’ve run out. It sounds like you don’t care, but you’re just hoarse from a passion too big for your voice. That’s where our boy was. We were at the terminal, standing outside the bus now. I listened as he reflected. “They were going to the Paradise Restaurant. Just goin’ to get something to eat. I guess he went to the real paradise.” Pause. “And he was just twenty-six, such a good guy. Like ah said, he the type he’d give you his last five dollars if you needed it.”
“That's such a good age too, I mean you're all done with school, you're a new adult finally doing something with your life, got all kinds a possibilities…”
“Dude, yeah. Man, I have nightmares every night. We used to see each other every day. Now, it's like this…?” 

There's not much you can say after that. We ended on a note of God bless, genuine thankfulness at being alive. I watched him stalk away, another young man in a beanie, doing his best at the extraordinary challenge and seemingly nigh-impossible game we call Living Life. 

What cures you from the knowledge of the shape of the Void? What pulls you back? Will there be a day with enough hindsight behind it, when a sunrise is a sunrise again, and the questions don’t need answers anymore?

​One day, he will know. And I think he will smile.

---

It shouldn't be a pattern, but for whatever reason it's getting to be one. Other stories involving African-American men and myself wrestling with shattering personal loss, here, here, here, here, and here.
2 Comments
Karen Perrine
5/20/2018 10:37:57 am

This is a very powerful article.

Reply
Nathan
5/21/2018 10:02:40 pm

Thanks, Karen, and thanks for reading & commenting. The process of writing stories like this is mysterious to me; they seem to take on lives of their own in the recounting. I wasn't intending to write about the long-term psychological fallout of surviving grief with this one at all. It just came out that way. The initial conception was exploring the boy being vulnerable, but I felt I've written on that theme before and wanted to push further.

Given the limited value of self-analysis, I don't feel qualified to comment on how much this does or doesn't have to do with my Paris circumstance. I'm sure there's a therapist out there somewhere who has come to all sorts of conclusions I can't see, from the insights I unwittingly reveal about myself!

Reply



Leave a Reply.

    RSS Feed

    Subscribe

    Nathan

    -You can find me on the Great 7/49, in the evenings.

    What is this blog? Check out the explanatory first post, or read the  front-page Seattle Times writeup here!  

    Here's a one-page crash course with links and highlights: Nathan Vass 101

    My Book is Finally Easy to Purchase!

    -For New Bus Drivers: Thoughts, Tips, and Stories
    -How to Drive the 7: The Complete Care Package

    Popular posts:

    Only have time for one story? Try these. 
    -The Day The Earth Stood Still
    -Le Park de Cal Anderson
    -
    21st Century Man
    -One Last Story (Video)
    ​
    -Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About the Great & Terrible 358
    -I'M A LIGHT-SKINNED BLACK WOMAN!
    -The Final Flurry: Index
    ​
    -Scroll down on this sidebar to "On the Street," below, for more highlights~

    Personal:
    -International Examiner Interview (Plus a word to my fellow Hapas!)
    -Surviving the Social Desert: Nathan on High School
    -With What Time We Have
    -My Seattle
    -On Second Acts
    -Yves Klein, Color of the Heavens
    ​
    ​-Popular Posts from 2018, with Commentary
    -Nathan Vass, 2019 Washington State Book Award Finalist
    -Nathan on the Elliott Bay event: Parts I, II, and III
    -Seattle Magazine / Third & Cherry
    -Pretty Sure I Don't Deserve This
    -How I Live Now
    -Escaping the Overlords: Nathan on Comcast
    ​
    -I Am Now Ten Years Old
    -Confession
    -Flowers in a Pool of Blood: Thoughts From an American in Paris
    -Paris, One Year Later: A Personal Perspective
    -The Transgender Ban
    -Nathan on the Las Vegas shootings: On Terror & Other Things
    ​
    -The Birthday That Almost Never Happened
    ​
    -Nathan Takes a Day Off:
    Part 1 (See Nathan Run);
    Part 2 (Nathan Gets Excited); 
    Part 3 (Nathan Sounds Like Morgan Freeman)
    -Rad(iation) City
    -La La Land & What Los Angeles Means
    -Reparations
    -Names Nathan gets called! A list in three parts: 1, 2, 3
    -Where and How it All Began
    -How I Write the Posts, and Why
    -Chaleur Humaine
    -A Story
    -What Not to Say​
    -In Praise of Silver Hair
    -You're Been a Good Friend of Mine
    -...And a Splendid New Year!
    -Nathan Converses With His Colleagues: Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8... and 65

    Political:
    -What's In a Number (Trump's legacy)
    -Praise Island (Biden's win)
    -The United States of Floyd
    -The Great Male Detoxification Project
    -The Day the Music Died
    -Kindness In the Days of After
    -Understanding Love & Hate During Trump Nation
    -More than Health, More than Money
    -Seattle, Center of the Modern Universe
    ​
    ​-What We Did, Today
    -This Story Has Nothing to do With Donald Trump
    -Don't Be Scared of My Friends, Part I
    -Don't Be Scared of My Friends, Part II
    -The Music Isn't Dead (Yet)
    -Nathan Actually Talks Politics, Pt III: Keeping the Music Alive
    -Pulling Our Weight, Part II: Addressing the Homeless Laziness Question
    -Getting Some Diversity Off My Chest
    ​
    -The Veterans
    -Islamofriendia
    -Be at Peace, Mr. Garner. We Will Love the World For You
    -The Streets Regard Ferguson
    -How do You Change the World? Thoughts on Violence
    -Cowboys of the New Age: Status & Respect in the American Ghetto
    -A Boy Named Hamza: Thoughts on Hate in Three Parts 
    -It Used to Sound Like This

    ​On film & art:
    -On Laura's Book
    -Nathan on Seattle's Waterfront: Before and After
    ​-Nathan's Films of 2019: Top 2 Plus 23 Runners Up (photos, trailers, analysis & more)
    -Once Upon a Time... in Dreams: On Tarantino, Violence, and Transcendence
    -On Finishing Men I Trust
    -The Lie & How to See It: On Hate, Despair & Hope in Contemporary Film
    -
    Notre Thoughts
    -Addressing Despair: Nathan on First Reformed
    -How Evergreen Became Irrelevant
    -October 2018 show breakdown: all the deets 
    -On Color Darkrooms
    -The Non-Bailers: Thank You to the Cast & Crew of Men I Trust, Pt I
    -People I Trust: Thanks to My Cast and Crew, Pt 2
    -Nathan's Overlooked Films of 2016: Trailers, photos, analyses
    -A Bus Driver Reviews the New Bus Driver Movie! 
    -My Films
    -Song to Song and Malick: The Cutting Edge
    ​
    -Nathan on Wet Lab Prints
    -Kehinde Wiley: The Morning After
    -Nathan the Friendly Hermit, Part I: Nathan Gets Pasty
    -
    Nathan the Friendly Hermit, Part II: Pastier and Pastier
    -Birdman, (a) Film of the Decade
    -
    Gone Girl: Fidelity & Subjectivity
    -On Gravity and Identity
    ​-Primary Colors with Music: Andrea Arnold's American Honey
    -Sicario: Why Visuals Matter
    -The Martian: On Intelligence in Pop Culture
    -About Elly
    -Best films of 2015: Trailers, photos, analyses
    -Selected writings on films released in 2014, 2013, and 2012. 

    On the Street:
    -Jessica Lee
    -Ah, Volume
    -Eulogy for the Damned
    -King Travis
    ​-The Great and Terrible Fifth & Jackson: An Ethnography
    The Veterinarian: A Story on Grief in 4 Parts
    -The Glow
    -Decent Street: Kendrick, Gender, Lingo, & the Good Man Problem
    -The Shake'N'Bake: Parts 1, 2, & 3
    -
    Pulling Our Weight, Part I
    -Pulling Our Weight, Part II: Addressing the Homeless Laziness Question
    -I've Been Sainted
    -Dominique The Mystique
    ​
    -Deserve, the Concept and the Song
    ​-Gangsta Phone Strategy, Deep Breaths & Kindness Rising
    -The Joy of Bus Driving
    -The Knife's Edge Dance
    ​
    -The Soulful Stench
    -"Everybody Need to Quit Acting Hard and S**t"
    -The Mother's Day Apocalypse
    -Ode to the 358
    -"I BET YOU APPROVE UH GAY MARRIAGE"
    -The Question
    -By Himself
    -Appreciation
    -Banter in the Nighttime
    -The Nathan Train
    -The Benevolent Roar
    -Truthfulness, the Final Currency
    -Love is in the Air
    -Surfing the Sparkling Wave
    ​-Saddest Music in the World​
    -Rainier & Henderson, Baby!
    -Sheeeeeeyyiitt: Strategies for Day or Night
    ​-AngryNice I (Love Through Frustration)
    AngryNice II: Tran Chimes In
    AngryNice III (We've All Felt It)
    -Love (Hurting From a Lack Thereof)
    -Hip to be Joyful
    -Future, Present, Past
    ​-Changing Awful
    -Harsh
    ​-The Nameless Heroes
    -The Break-Up
    -Tropic Of
    -Figuring it All Out in the Bullpen
    -Leaving Small Talk Behind
    ​-She Did It On a Monday
    ​-One Day, My Friend
    -I Am Now Two Years Old
    ​-The Harder Thing
    -Poker Face Practice
    -The Great Freeze

    For Bus Drivers!
    --How to Drive the 7: The Complete Care Package
    -
    -It's Called Working
    -
    -Bus Driver Appreciation Day: Coronavirus Style
    -The Swagger I Love: Thoughts on My Fellow Operators
    ​-A Love Letter for My Colleagues: Exercises and Stretches for Operators
    -What I've Learned From Other Bus Drivers
    -Rest in Peace, Breda Monster
    -I Don't Know What a Trolley is, Part I
    -I Don't Know What a Trolley is, Part II
    -Verbal

    Archives

    January 2021
    December 2020
    November 2020
    October 2020
    September 2020
    August 2020
    July 2020
    June 2020
    May 2020
    April 2020
    March 2020
    February 2020
    January 2020
    December 2019
    November 2019
    October 2019
    September 2019
    August 2019
    July 2019
    June 2019
    May 2019
    April 2019
    March 2019
    February 2019
    January 2019
    December 2018
    November 2018
    October 2018
    September 2018
    August 2018
    July 2018
    June 2018
    May 2018
    April 2018
    March 2018
    February 2018
    January 2018
    December 2017
    November 2017
    October 2017
    September 2017
    August 2017
    July 2017
    June 2017
    May 2017
    April 2017
    March 2017
    February 2017
    January 2017
    December 2016
    November 2016
    October 2016
    September 2016
    August 2016
    July 2016
    June 2016
    May 2016
    April 2016
    March 2016
    February 2016
    January 2016
    December 2015
    November 2015
    October 2015
    September 2015
    August 2015
    July 2015
    June 2015
    May 2015
    April 2015
    March 2015
    February 2015
    December 2014
    November 2014
    October 2014
    September 2014
    August 2014
    July 2014
    June 2014
    May 2014
    April 2014
    March 2014
    February 2014
    January 2014
    December 2013
    November 2013
    October 2013
    September 2013
    August 2013
    July 2013
    June 2013
    May 2013
    March 2013
    February 2013
    January 2013
    December 2012
    November 2012
    October 2012
    September 2012
    August 2012
    July 2012
    June 2012

    Categories

    All

    RSS Feed

Powered by Create your own unique website with customizable templates.