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…
but I can’t find anyone to talk to.
(Dedicated to David)
by Maile Lani
(click on thumbnails for full-size images)
I'm used to living in oversized cities complete
with their jam-packed subway stations, smog warnings, and nightclubs
swarming with people who just want you to get out of their way. So when I
moved far away from all the noise and the clatter, I was somewhat
shaken by the idea of being completely alone for the first time in over
five years. You see on the one hand I was saying farewell to snow that
matches the asphalt, and I was finally able to speak my mind to the
conceited people that lived in my upper class neighborhood, but I was
leaving, well, civilization. My
stilettos and cute party dresses were being traded in for long
underwear and anything that would keep me warm, as this is Canada, and
the 1920s house we were moving to not only has a bat in the basement but
an insulation problem as well.
The irony of the situation is that I wanted to move
out here and, quite frankly, as far away from Montreal as I could
convince my family to go. “You’re going to regret it Maile,” my friend
Paul said to me during a phone conversation a couple days before we
left. I laughed and he responded, “No, I’m serious, you’ll get bored.” I
stopped, laughed again, and promptly changed the topic.
Now for some outlandish reason the thought of
boredom never crossed my mind in the days and weeks prior to the moving
decision. Usually, if I ever felt lonely or tired of what I was doing, I
could simply pick up the telephone, get in touch with so and so and
then wander off to the cinema or a pub or anything to make
me feel better. But all of a sudden, I would be 45 minutes away from a
proper supermarket, let alone a movie theater, and to top it all off I
can’t even drive a car! So I went to the library, checked out 4 books,
and then convinced myself that I could catch up on my reading before I
went back to school in the fall. There I solved my life. The End.
Now please keep in mind for future reference that
all is always fine and dandy until time starts to chip away at the brick
wall you built to shield yourself from the obvious issues that you knew
would eventually arise. Problem with me is that I’m terrified of the
dark and silence makes me feel awkward, almost as if I HAVE to say
something or everyone in the room is going to implode. I’m used to
constantly surrounding myself with people and noises that I know are
coming from my obnoxious next-door neighbor, who has his television
blaring away at full volume around 2 in the morning. I know that’s my
little sister breathing, fast asleep, in the bedroom that I’ve shared
with her forever and a day. Even when I’m by myself and 
walking
down Crescent Street in downtown Montreal, I know that there are people
in those bars if I ever wanted to have a conversation with someone.
Suddenly I found myself in a big bedroom with only my fish to converse
with, and although my family is just down the hall in their respective
big bedrooms, I don’t think that anyone would hear me if I stubbed my
toe and shrieked “OUCH!” at the appropriate sound level for an injury of
that type.
It was at this point that I started to realize that
I couldn’t find anyone to talk to, let alone anything to do. Usually I
could just walk into the living room/office of our apartment and
everyone would be there, watching television or sending faxes or
something. Now I walk into the kitchen only to find it spotless, but
then I realize that my father’s car isn’t in the driveway. There’s a
fire blazing away in the living room, but my mother is taking a nap all
the way upstairs. The curling iron is still hot, but my sister's off
dealing with the every day trials and tribulations of high school… and
it’s not just in my house either.
I’ll go for a walk and see tire tracks on the
ground but can only hear the snowplows driving away in the distance. I
see electric poles connected with electric wires and electric boxes and
cables coming from the house, but I can’t even hear an electric hum or
see anything even remotely related to electricity such as a Radio Shack
or a computer store. It’s too cold and icy to even replace the light
bulb in the wrought iron lamp above the driveway, that decided to burn
itself out two days after we moved in. Lights are a beckoning of warmth
saying “Hey! Someone lives in this house!”… But now it’s always dark
outside.
Then,
of course, there are barns with rusted locks and tractors complete
grass growing not only around them but on the inside as well! Fences and
footprints and lights from the dam, but I can’t seem to find a single
person when I want to share an off the wall thought with anyone that
would even pretend to listen. It’s almost as if I have become a ghost in
my own little world. Perhaps everyone can see each other but I’m the
only one that managed to land myself on a slightly off plane of
existence where no one but me physically exists.
A friend once told me that, after I grumbled
something about moving away, when I need a friend I can make one, just
like that. What I don’t understand is how I can befriend what I don’t
see and how I can amuse myself with what doesn’t seem to 
exist.
I can’t wander around alone in the snow covered fields and forests
searching through barns and crawling under fences past the “No Trespassing”
signs hoping in vain that by the end of the day I’ll be having a vodka
tonic with someone that shares my views on politics and the new spring
fashions.
But then something funny happened, on almost as large a scale as the Grinches heart growing three sizes that day. I noticed the way the moonlight reflected ever so elegantly on the snow, and oh how it sparkled as bright as the diamonds in the jewelry store windows down town. Gradually I started to realize that I could see what was making the snow in my front yard glow, and for the first time in as long as I can remember I could actually see the stars and the moon in the sky. Yes the driveway light is burnt out, but why waist electricity when the moonlight works just as well?
It’s not always silent either… 
I
can hear the wind or the rain, and sometimes birds or bugs or coyotes
if I listen close enough. I know for a sure fact that the kitchen was
cleaned sometime this afternoon, but come to think of it, it’s quite
lovely not to have to hear pots clanging around or the dishwasher noises
overpowering the film I’m watching on television. I think I like things
just as they are now, evidence of man without there actually being
anything to distract me from the one thing that that is more important
that parties, night clubs, and shopping… life.
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