in high school starting in my sophomore year, i took college courses at the local extension campus. now, i have to say, while that sounds like heavy hitting, believe me.. it wasn’t. it didn’t take me long to realize that, for the most and at least at this school, professors loved to hear themselves talk. and some how they seem to talk on exactly what was assigned for that week’s reading. it’s almost as though they read the chapter, did a little extra research, then spoke extemporaneously for as long as the university would allow.. huh..? 😉

now i didn’t let this little factoid go to waste.. nor did it pass me by that, though they talked tough on attendance, they often didn’t follow through on it.

being sixteen, having a car with a sunroof (to this day i still don’t understand the difference between a sunroof and a moon roof..), and a spot to get away to out of town.. well, what can you expect? i made it to.. maybe.. one of four classes. and that might be generous..

but could you blame me? about twenty miles out us 224, i had the perfect spot to get away from everything.. “everything” being the standard dementia, stagnation, and insanity of suburbia. i’d pass several small town, some of which ended up meaning something to me, others that didn’t. i got to know the gas stations as i’d stop there for my frappiccinos (it was i liked coffee.. and yes, there was a time when i didn’t like coffee) and walk in the brisk breeze to wake me up a bit. then i’d be off again for my causeway through the lake. the stars out there were great and the water would send me the hoots of owls from miles away.

there was a semester when i actually did go to class.. but that had more to do with jena. jena was twenty-four and answered calls at the extension to help pay tuition.. i was sixteen, seventeen. we were just friends, though she’d occasionally chime in with, “if you only a few years older..” we’d hang out and tell ourselves that we still weren’t crazy because we were at least asking each other if we were crazy.. and that must make us sane.. right?

she’d tell me about bills to pay, what she was dreaming about doing with herself, where she was going next.. now, i can’t lie to you, she was what some might call.. a bit shady. once i had to ask her why she was talking about cereal with another girl in the class.. turns out special k is more than just a cereal. but she was honest with me and i with her. i kept away from that and she always kept that aspect of her life a good ways away from me, which was easy since she was always at work when i saw her, save one time.. i guess part of her considered me peer.. the other part kid brother. so on the days when i didn’t have class, i’d still swing by to visit and we’d forward the calls to main campus and go root around the closed down third floor, which was shut down and allegedly used to be a psych ward. we’d sit in the abandoned conference rooms and break into (or is it “onto”?) the roof and watch as people passed us by, oblivious to the shadows above them.

before i stopped taking classes there, she made me a necklace that was too tight, sketched my portrait, and wrote me a letter that was kinder than deserved.

something as simple as that drive meant a lot to me. i still look for a road like that around here. places and times like those give me something nothing else can..

last i heard from jena she was in columbus.. just happy to be out of the home town 😉