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Shot Rare

September 22nd, 2009 admin No comments

Shot Rare

CAUTION STAY 100 Meters Back Or You Will Be Shot - Page 5

One month after the devastating and unexpected departure of Michelle Robins and her family, it was announced to us by Dean Whybark talking in front of the class, that Michelle had been involved in a near fatal auto accident in Oregon.

At that moment I remembered a few weeks before when I had written her that letter. And I felt heartbroken again in light of the tragic news. Michelle we were told was in the worst shape of the four vehicle occupants, and being treated in an intensive care unit at a medical facility.

I went through my days after that bummed out for awhile. And eventually I returned to my normal self. Time continued to stretch across space, and six months had passed since I along with my peers were told of the tragedy inflicted on Michelle and her family.

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It was summer and I still had occasional dreamy thoughts of Michelle. One day I happened upon her mailing address in my dresser drawer. I thought “why not?” So I sat down with paper and pen at that very moment and began to craft a letter to her. This was in an attempt to learn of her fate, and disposition at that time. My biggest hope in writing her at that moment was in her still being at the same address. I wasn’t sure at all if she’d still be there because of all that had happened to her. And deep in my soul, I was quite afraid that I’d never hear from her again.

I walked to the end of the driveway at our house in the Butte and placed the sealed envelope in the mailbox. It didn’t take more than a few days to forget that I’d written that letter! Several more weeks went by, and in a surprise delivery by the rural mail carrier I received a letter from Michelle! She was upbeat in the letter and said she wished to keep corresponding with me.

Our pen pal activity was not constant, it was an off and on event. One of us would finally remember to write the other. Still my feelings for her that I had felt so long ago at school were rekindled with every occasional letter I received from Michelle. I was typically quicker than she was at responding back.

This was the summer of 1991, and I expressed a strong interest in summer school to ‘skip’ the seventh grade. I had earlier lobbied my mother, and she consented without any hesitation.

I learned that “skipping 7th grade” wasn’t as sexy of an idea as I had been so expecting it to be. My surprise came the day when all my study materials and books arrived in early June, and learned that it was basically compressing a normal school year into the short summer vacation months. I immediately muttered to myself “oh **** this sucks!” Because I then realized that I’d be doing mounds of schoolwork during the much revered summer months! “Oh no I’m going to be stuck in the house all day” and of course for the entire summer as well!

A whole kick back, be lazy, play Nintendo all day, and just be a pain-in-the-ass to anyone who got in my way. Yes, quite a selfish attitude for a pre-teen to have isn’t it? That was my very short-sighted vision of productive activities that I had most desired to do during the summer.

But here I was with all this homework, and for the first several weeks I didn’t do much of anything. It wasn’t until July when I finally kick-started my efforts into high gear.

In the third week of August I had just finished the last math assignment. Within a week I entered into the eighth grade class with yet another new teacher - Mr. Maher. He was kind of a prick. The man was bald, very cynical and busted my balls for everything. So of course I didn’t care for him much as a teacher. As a man he’s a decent gentleman no doubt.

He sported a completely shaved bald head, very shiny and it seemed like it radiated some kind of rare element from his scalp.

two girls. A total of three of us had just graduated from Matanuska- Valley SDA school.

All three of us met at the Palmer church that early June night. There were probably 30 people there. Myself, and the two ladies, and many people from the church.

They spoiled us with all kinds of gifts, money, material, blenders, whatever they wanted to give to the three of us.

I counted up the checks and cash I received and it was about $130.00 not a bad take for just graduating school. Within a day, the money had been spent on a crap video game and the rest I spent on miscellaneous things that in the end counted for nothing from the money I received. It was my own faulty actions that brought me back to being flat broke at breakneck speed.

The fact is I get bored easily. Because of this truth, it becomes apparent that my boredom needs to be controlled or else it will always take me down hard luck avenue in a repetitive scenario where I have just spent a small chunk of money on completely useless crap.

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