As a general rule if the cause of
an event seems illogical or without a clear mechanism you should
always guess it was caused by an icicle. Because that is almost
always the answer. The paradoxical mature of my title is the
exception that proves the rule in that it was not caused by ice of
any kind. An icicle as a weapon is still the perfect crime though. My
girlfriend and I had been spending less and less time together ever
since she started going to the psychiatrist who said all boys were
bad news and she should steer clear. We still talked on the phone and
that was about the only connection we had that summer between junior
high and high school. We were still nominally going out but for all
intents and purposes we were two islands in the adolescent stream.
After I got back from the "All Stars" camp I gave her a
call but she was distant and kept talking about this cool older boy
she had met at a dance she went to when I was away. If you are new to
the boyfriend/girlfriend game I will just let you know that having
your significant other tell you how cute and cool someone who is not
you is, is not a good sign for the health of the relationship. We
talked about the city celebration that was that weekend and we agreed
to meet up to go to the parade, the fair, and the mud digs. She came
with two of her friends and she looked and smelled amazing I tried to
hold hands or hug or cuddle but she kept spinning away to go take
care of some suddenly urgent business. After the parade she avoided
me at the fair as much as she could in a group of four. Then after
the fair and on our way to the mud digs a block away she pulled her
friend aside and had a fervent little private chat with her and then
jogged off towards her house. The other two girls and I continued on
as I asked what was the matter my girlfriend's best friend gathered
up some courage and pressed forward into the unpleasant task she had
conspired to carry out. She said, "I am really sorry but she
wanted to tell me that she doesn't want to be your girlfriend anymore
and she wanted me to ask you not to call her anymore because she
doesn't want to talk to you about it."
I was struck stunned and
hyperventilating a little so the over-brightness of the late summer
sun seemed all at a moment overwhelming. I swallowed down my tears
and told the girls I was going to forgo the mud digs and was just
going to go home. I walked the two blocks home in a stupor crying and
hyperventilating. When I walked in the door Rob was the only one home
standing shirtless and sweaty under the swamp cooler vent in the hall
which meant I had to walk right passed him. When he saw my
dishevelment and distress he asked, "Whats wrong with you? Your
girlfriend dump you?"
I told him that she had in fact
dumped me and thanks for asking A-hole. He tried to hit me for
calling him by this honorific title. For some reason antagonizing Rob
got me quickly on the road to recovery. I had a little angry
self-pitting hateful temper-tantrum about how I was there for her
when she was having trouble but when she was better she dumps me for
someone with a driving license and a car. Self indulgence indulged I
fell asleep, woke up just before the rodeo, went and found a nice
girl from a nearby town and took her to the after dance, made out
with her, called it a night and started high school the next week
with a clean slate.
