Dating : JAMES | Moonlit Indigo

JAMES | PALO ALTO | SUMMER 2019

We were laying down in the back of that rusty pickup, watching the streetlights pass over us. I was far from home but you knew those roads well. Not that that mattered though, we could see nothing but the naked indigo silhouettes of palm leaves and telephone lines fly over us. That, and each other. We laughed as we rolled around the truck bed every time it took a turn.

“This bitch actually tryna kidnap us!”

The noise of our laughter and pent up profanities was swallowed by the warm, yet cool, night air rushing over us. You were playing songs from a speaker you had brought along with us. I loved that you knew to bring it, we spoke the same language. The music you played was weird though, the kind only artists like. A series of ambient electric noises. But it worked. We vibed.

It was a long fifteen minutes to get to the playground. I didn’t mind though, the air was refreshing. I’ve never really been a fan of playgrounds. Not when I was young and certainly not when I am grown. The vibes are always off. Playgrounds mean lots of kids and when I was a kid the idea of that scared me. And it still does. At least as a kid you’d fit right in with the scene (not me though, I was shy). But an adult playing in the playground with a bunch of kids? Now that’s weird.

But it was midnight and the playground was quiet. Only the wind whispered amongst the trees. Our driver, our leader, fearlessly led us through the gate. A sign read:

TRESPASSERS WILL BE ARRESTED

Oh nah

See? The vibes were off. But we went on, following our fearless leader.

I went straight for the swing set. Swings were the only things on a playground that truly understood me. And it was as I was swinging that I felt it. Right when I reached the highest peak, that instant when you would make that leap into the air, time stopped. The warm, yet cool, air held me tightly, whispering to me, for just the briefest of moments. I didn’t take the jump. Time had prematurely made my knees weary and my mind uneasy with heights.

We laid down a blanket over the woodchips, the same one you and I were laying down on in the back of that truck. The five of us sat, some laid, and gossipped about coworkers we didn’t like. I love gossip, it’s quite easily my favorite pastime. It was like one of those scenes in the beginning of a horror film where all the dumb college kids sneak in somewhere to have a good time. Except without the raunchy sex and intense sense of foreboding. A horror film without the horror. A vibe, if you will. It didn’t last long, our fearless leader casually mentioned the fact that the police department was literally 100 meters away from the playground.

Excuse me, bitch?

Ohh nahhh

I looked at you and your eyes betrayed the same thoughts as mine. We spoke the same language. As if on cue I noticed an SUV rolling down the block. I squint and I hit the fucking deck.

“It’s a cop car”

We all laid low, except for our fearless leader who stood as upright as a goddamn totem pole (our fearless leader also happened to be extremely white passing). Maybe this was a horror film with the horror (but still none of the raunchy sex). It even featured the classic cliches: a white (passing) individual with no damn sense and some colored kids who’d be the first to go. As soon as the cop car passed I grabbed the blanket and fucking booked it.

Fuck a gate, I’ma hop this fence

You were the only one to immediately run with me, to jump back into the back of the pickup. We spoke the same language. The rest reluctantly followed. They said we were being dramatic. And maybe we were. But then again you and I are not white passing and I cannot smooth talk good.

After that loud ass truck coughed back to life and woke the whole neighborhood, we were smoothly on our way. We were scared but never dared to peek over the pickup bed. So we laid on our woodchip peppered blanket and stared at the sky. Or at each other. You turned your series of electronic ambient noises back on and we kept exchanging profanities. I thought back to the playground, back to when I was at the height of my swing, when time stopped, for just the briefest of moments. I prayed that time would be so kind to me again because I knew this last ride would not be as long as the first. And I knew the way back is always shorter than the way to. And I knew this would be the last, it was the wind who had told me.

I think about that night air sometimes, the vividness of it, the way it held us, whispering to us the secrets of life. I think about the way the sky softly glowed orange, how it danced with the indigo silhouettes in the open sky, the palm leaves shimmying to the sound of your ambience. I thought to myself, if home existed outside of this pickup bed, I wouldn’t have known it.

And then, for the briefest of moments, time stopped.