Mobius strip

A few years or so ago I was walking around the mall in Manhattan and frantically looking for my friend Michelle. She was driving in from western Kansas to have some fun and pay me a visit. We had met the summer before in Dodge City and became friends, and I was looking forward to seeing her again.

We were supposed to meet at the American Eagle store there, but she wasn't there. I started walking around the mall searching for her, and became worried that something had happened to her. I didn't have her cellphone number, let alone a cellphone. I tried her home number on a payphone, but no luck.

I was hurt she didn't show, but there was nothing I could do. I went to Waldenbooks hoping to find a tome into which to dive and forget my worries. I found that in a book of work by Maurits C. Escher, and went home with feelings of rejection coupled with fear for her safety.

Some time later I was able to get ahold of her, she was back home in Hoxie. Somewhere on the interstate she had gotten very sick and had to turn back, and I was actually relieved to hear it.

We talked on and off, then after a while we stopped talking. No fight, no trouble, we just stopped.

Then, back around Christmas 2004, I spotted her online, ans we started talking. She had just been hit with a horrible tragedy, the loss of someone her whole life revolved around, and I tried my best to make her feel better about it. So did Scott, when they met online. Kudos to him for that.

I called her from time to time from D.C., and I could feel the pain in her voice wane with time as she healed, but it never disappeared.

A few days ago I found that Escher book again, and almost donated it the local high school library with a stack of other books I wanted to share with the students at my alma mater, but I held on.

Instead I've been thumbing through it these past few days.

Then this morning, as I listened to Commissioner Bob Newsome complain about landscaping and birds crapping by the County Office building, I heard a nice roar as my phone vibrated itself and the table it was sitting on along with it, and the name "Michelle" popped onto the front screen. I didn't answer, I was working. But as soon as that meeting was over, I called her back.

Turns out she was in Manhattan, and wanted to hang out for a while after I hadn't seen her in almost 3 years.

And we did. And it was fun.

And I was sad to watch her drive off after we went for a small walk in City Park.

Sometimes it's just strange how life just... connects.