Eli Albert
That Endless Afternoon

    We met up at 3 in the afternoon. There were five of us to begin with - Zak, his girlfriend Emily, that inconsequential blowhard Mike, some female friend of Mike's who I can hardly even remember now, and me, Eli. That afternoon started out with a crick in the back of my neck that moved from side to side, sliding like a swing from right below my left ear to right below my right. Looking down helped. The grass on the campus lawn was incredibly green, earthy green, and not fake either like the new grass they'd put in by Ekhart hall - this was traditional, dirty grass. But what a green! The five of us stood in a circle, tossed a frisbee and shot the shit. Jen showed up a bit later, said her boyfriend was sick. I was starting to feel loose. Jumpy. Every time I bent down to pick up the disc, that crick in my neck shifted over and resettled.
    Zak was in a good mood, really friendly. Emily looked a little tired. Zak and I started to play the conversation game - it's something we always did, and it's not hard to do if you're into that sort of thing. It's about separating discourse from conviction. Sides change fast, and you have to keep up. Arguments don't have to be extremely logical, which is to say that logic is a bonus at best. The game is in turning an idea upside down just at the moment when your opponent thinks he's got it all figured out. It's better than chess, because chess has too many rules.
    Mike had no idea what we were talking about. The problem when novices played the conversation game is that they forgot to keep their feelings out. Mike was a loud person. I remember once he came over to a party at my apartment. First he insisted on drawing a huge pot-leaf on my wall, and then he got drunk and yelled at Zak and Emily until they had to take him home.
    The clouds were moving faster now, and we decided to relocate, to get the afternoon started. It's important to keep a certain level of energy in a large group setting. Otherwise things just tend to wind down, and once they wind down enough, there's just no saving them - you have to start over. What did the bunch of us look like on that springy day in Chicago as we set out for Lake Michigan? We looked like what we were: a bunch of hippies. Born in the 80s, living in the 60s, and trapped in the new millenium. To top it off, I had on a snappy new beret that I'd picked up second-hand in Wicker Park for four bucks and change.
    As we walked down the street I fell in behind Jen, who was wearing a blue and yellow poncho. We chatted about her boyfriend who wished he could have come with us to the lake. About how the day felt. I said I was really starting to get into the swing of things now. It was true - every step was a daring leap, every breeze was positively tactile, and the people passing us on 57th street didn't even realize. I thought about energy again, briefly. Zak and Emily were lagging behind, so I dropped back, grabbed a copy of The Onion, and smacked it across her head.
"Free your mind!" she said with a grin.
    We made it to my apartment. It had been all of 10 minutes walking, but it felt like longer. The energy, the energy. Mike and his gangly friend hadn't said much in all that time, although Mike was restless. The man was always restless. He was big, Mike, and he had a wide open face that could get ugly in unexpected moments. Luckily, he couldn't touch me - Zak and I were very close; Mike and Zak were on and off flatmates and good friends. A few months before, I'd stood up to Mike and told him how he made me feel when he had acted thoughtlessly, and he'd just took it and did as he was told. It's important to establish one's feelings out in the open. Communication and all that.
    At my place we determined that none of us were hungry, and we stared at the walls for a while. It was great to just sit and discuss the shapes and swirls of the mural in my living room. I decided that my favorite times were always these unplanned, in-between gatherings, these meetings before the big event. Because you can have as many parties as you want, as many great barbeques or outings to frats and clubs, but the part before you go, when you get ready and load up and joke around and chat and kill time and maybe grab a bite to eat (or maybe not), that's always the most valuable part. I live for the anticipation, baby. My weekend starts on Wednesday and finishes Saturday at dawn.
    Then it was time to go. But how to mobilize the troops? Lethargy was setting in before we'd even gotten started. I knew it was bound to happen. I had to recognize that I hadn't really helped the matter - I was barricaded on one end of the living room in a pile of pillows on the green futon. I was also happy to notice (or rather not notice) that the crick in my neck was gone. I like my corner of the room, said my head. Emily had put on a Dylan album, Blood on the Tracks I think, and it made me think about Dylan's tight pants. Man, I wish I had pants like Bob Dylan. Jen laughed. I must have said that out loud. Jen, you do have pants like Bob Dylan. But I'm a girl! No you're not. That laugh - Jen's voice is low and almost manly, but with just enough lilt to come off deeply feminine, a husky tune from a tiny package, like an Anthony Burgess novel (not Clockwork!), but with red hair. Yeah, like that.
    Good thing my flatmates weren't around. It took another 15 minutes, but I finally convinced myself and Zak that we ought to see about getting out the door, since my third floor mess of couches and futons and pillows and armchairs and murals and strangely-shaped coffee tables and old, strange music was not the place to pass a fairly perfect spring afternoon. Besides, there were roaches in the kitchen. Sometimes, during the day, thinking about those little red buggers disgusted me a bit, but at night, at 3 in the morning when turning on the bare lightbulb overhead was sure to reveal the foragers at work, don't tell anyone but I swear they were an odd comfort.
    And we're off! Cell phone, keys, wallet, hat, snack, tissues, firewood, lighter. Things started to pick up. The six of us strode off to the east, to the lake, to glory and better things. For me, the anticipation bit had already passed, but I didn't mention it. The trees along the path to the lake were complicated and exciting, but I couldn't look at any single one for too long. Crossing the street outside the Museum of Science and Industry some crazy bus-driver almost plowed through me in the process of a hasty left turn. I kid you not - I had to jump out of the way. The woman in the car waiting in the next lane screamed, I heard her. Whew, that was close. Funnily enough, Zak and Emily and Jen were up ahead and didn't notice. Mike and his friend didn't know what to say. I tried to laugh - my heart was pounding a bit too fast for comfort, so I sat down on the other side of the street. Mike kept trying to talk, but nothing was coming out of his mouth. What a fool. Hey, Zak! I called out, wait up. The trio stopped and came back, and I got to my feet soon enough.
"You alright?" asked Zak, uncertain. "Yeah, sure, no problem. Onwards!" I picked up a stick on the side of the path and held it forward, pointing towards the water. "Hup, two, three, four, hup!"
    There were lots of families picnicking that afternoon at the lake, as there always are. For some reason they're always Asian, with big coolers of food and drink and huge broods of kids. From a distance, approaching the fire pits, they looked like little bugs swarming around. I'd left my glasses in the apartment and I couldn't get a grip on them for the longest time.
"Uh, Emily?" No answer. Emily was walking to my right, only a bit unsteadily, her blond stringy hair blowing back behind her.
"Emily?"
"Hmm?" She turned to look at me, startled, only now realizing I was next to her.
"You are in a different place, buddy."
"Yeah, haha." That shaky chuckle.
"Emily, what are all those swarmy little dots on the point, in the distance, on those rocks? Why are they moving around like that?"
"I dunno, Eli."
"Oh, cmon, I know you know. Put your back into it."
"What does that even mean, put my back into it?"
"They're people, Eli." That was Zak.
"Oh. I wasn't sure..." I said lamely. It seemed kind of obvious now.
"Let's find an empty fire thing."
"Hey guys?" It was Jen in back with Mike and his friend. "We're going to go take a walk through the gardens over there - we'll come find you later." And just like that, we were 3.
    Zak and I started to play with fire. It was really comfortable to sit around with Zak and Emily and try to light a fire. I kept getting distracted by the ground, though. The grass and the twigs and the leaves kept forming elemental and extremely important patterns in my peripheral vision that disappeared whenever I focused on them. Zak said something that I missed.
"What?"
"huh?" Communication breakdown.
"Nothing."
"Wha?" I sighed. I didn't know what to say. Not that it really mattered, the more rational part of me reflected. I shouldn't have to say anything at all. I sat on a log and stretched my neck, my hands. The fire was crackling satisfactorily. I closed my eyes and got lost for some unknown amount of time. When I opened them again, Emily was sitting on Zak's lap and they were playing tonsil hockey.
"I'm going for a walk," I announced.
The fire pits are arrayed along the shore, under sparse tree coverage, every 20 yards or so. Each one had a group of people hanging out, cooking, laughing, drinking. It's actually illegal to have glass bottles in the park, but not cans, I remembered. Without my glasses, I couldn't tell what kind of people I passed - were they my age, were they older families? I tried to walk close enough to see as I passed each group, but then I started thinking that maybe I looked weird walking along like that. Was that group of kids looking at me? I wanted to go up and say hi, but I was embarrassed. I took a few hesitant steps closer, but suddenly the group of students turned out to be another extended Asian family. I veered away. I was curious, about groups, about my surroundings, but scared. I kept walking, pretty much without direction, and happened upon a wide tree with pink blossoms, standing all alone in a clearing. The lower branches came down and surrounded me on all sides, while the upper branches formed intensely spiraling patterns that broke off at sharp angles and copied each other wherever I glanced. There must have been dozens of birds in the branches, I could hear them, but weirdly enough I couldn't see a single one. I don't know how long I spent under the tree, hypnotized, but suddenly my cell phone rang.
    "Uh, hello?" It was my friend Caleb. Caleb lived somewhere on the northside, but had a lot of friends here. Including me. Nothing like talking on a cell phone after spending a long time without saying a word to make you feel self-conscious.
    "Eeeeeli." Caleb had this eerie habit of guessing my mood and playing too it. His voice was suddenly really low and droning and slow. He knew everything I was going to say and he knew the outcome of the conversation before it even started. At least it felt that way.
    "Uh, hey man, how's it going?"
    "Me and Ben are walking towards the park."
    "Really? Oh cool, great. We're at a fire place thing, you know, with the trees, and, um."
    "I'll find you there."
    "Yeah, you can, um." I realized that I was not communicating well, but Caleb sometimes had that effect on me.
    "Hey, Caleb, can I talk to Ben?" Ben lived in the apartment below mine. He was two years older and I loved him.
    "Eli, hey."
    "Ben, I..."
    "Hey, we're going to be over in a couple minutes, ok? Are you there?"
    "No, I'm um, under a tree."
    "Where?"
    "I don't know where."
    "Can you make it back?"
    "I think so."
    Just then my phone told me Emily was calling, too. I got flustered. I'd wanted to talk to Ben, but now I couldn't remember why. I had to think fast.
    "Ok, Ben," I said, "I'll see you soon." I switched to Emily before he said anything else.
    "Eli?" I sensed panic in her voice. Why was she panicking?
    "Eli, are you ok?"
    "Emily? Yeah, I'm ok. I'm fine, I'm um, fine, why?"
    "Oh, ok," I heard her say. It sounded like she was on the verge of tears. "I didn't know where you were."
    "I'm, um, somewhere. I'm not really sure either. But I don't think I'm so far. Have I been gone long?"
    "I don't know, Eli, but come back, ok?"
    "Yeah, I'm on my way right now. Some friends are coming too."
    "Oh, ok."
    "Hang in there, Emily." I was getting my confidence back, slowly. The day was beautiful and so were you.
    I started walking towards the shore and the fire pits a little unsteadily. I came up over the top of a small hill and I could suddenly see all the groups and families again. I was a 5 minute walk from our place. By the time I got back, there were a whole group of people - Caleb and Ben had arrived, Jen and Mike and his friend had gotten back. Everybody was sitting around the fire and staring into it more or less, and nobody was saying much at all. When they saw me, I got a round of greeting.
    "Eli!"
    "Hey," I tried to smile. I thought I smiled but I wasn't sure. I felt melty. Ben came up and gave me a hug, which was just what I needed. Caleb took out a guitar and started tuning it up. I went over to Emily and Zak.
    "How you guys doing?"
    "What?" said Zak - typical response - "Fine!". Emily didn't say anything. I found myself a seat next to Caleb for lack of anything else to do. And waited. Mike still hadn't said much, and his friend was just sitting there. I didn't know what to say either. Ben smoked a cigarette. I tried to tell myself that it was still ok not to say anything, ok that no one was communicating, you can communicate without words. I tried to believe it. Caleb finished tuning and started to play, but it was all wrong. He was playing death metal, using the guitar as a bass. I didn't tell him to stop though. The music was grating, uncomfortable. Caleb was grating and uncomfortable. So was Mike's friend. I just don't know her well enough, I thought, so I don't feel comfortable. But she had this look on her face that I'll never forget, a look I've never seen before or since. Some sort of mix between a sneer and an embarrassed chuckle choked off in the middle. I couldn't start a conversation with that. And then Mike just looked glum.
    Time passed. Caleb kept playing. At some point Mike ventured an "I don't know...", more like half-muttered it, and nobody responded and everybody seemed embarrassed. It was a ridiculous situation. I managed to ignore it for the better part of a half hour. I ignored them all. I wanted to play guitar but I knew I couldn't. I wasn't myself. I stared at the fire, I stared and watched, unable to turn away.
    More time passed. We all ventured a few conversations, but nothing caught on. Everything drifted into mumbled non-remarks and silence. I threw a frisbee with Ben but that got tired, so I sat down. Caleb kept playing bass on the guitar. Mike and his friend had a long conversation, the first in a while, but they weren't quite talking loud enough for anyone else but Jen to hear. I smiled at Emily and she smiled back, which was a relief. We played with the fire more.
    Slowly, slowly and steadily, the flames turned into colored pieces of paper and little rainbow lightning bugs that marched up, to the left, and away. They pulsed in little swirls and circles and zig zags, all moving to the sound of that damn guitar. The guitar.
"Caleb." I did it. My voice was now out of my throat and into the air, joining the lightning bugs.
"Caleb, Caleb, um. The guitar."
"Hmm?" He kept on playing. He had this concentrated look on his face, the look all guitarists get when they're playing something complicated but also trying to pay attention to what someone is saying. None of them have any idea how their look looks, and I'm sure this applies to me as well.
"Caleb, can you stop playing?"
"hmm?" He hadn't heard me, evidently. The death metal played on.
"um." I was at a loss, but luckily help came from an unexpected source - Jen.
    Poor Jen had not said anything in a very long time, and was evidently in her own world and at a loss without her boyfriend around. She looked pained but comfortable, which is to say that she accepted the awkwardness (the first step), but didn't know what to do about it. Suddenly she spoke.
"Caleb." There it was again, that voice like a gurgling river taken down an octave. I doubted she'd ever said a word to Caleb before; she hardly knew him.
"Caleb, can you stop playing guitar for a while?"
    The music stopped. Silence took over. Ben was playing with a stick in the dirt. The fire was dying down. We all sat there, and suddenly I realized that I had a snack in my bag. What did I have? I didn't even remember. Where were my intrepid leadership skills now, the ones that had brought this group together on this particular outing and gotten us to this point? I rummaged in my bag and in my head at the same time. I found my snack - a half-pound hunk of Gruyere. It's a cheese, and it happened to be one of Emily's favorites.
"I have food," I annouced. Mike perked up at that. I think everyone did. "I'll, um." It wasn't exactly easy to eat or share. I unwrapped the plastic and took a sizeable bite. It was greasy and yummy. I passed it to my left. Caleb took a bite and passed it to Ben, who did not eat any but passed it to Emily, who took two tentative nibbles and then one bite before she passed it to Zak. Zak held on to it for a while - I think he forgot that he had it. Mike and his friend were looking at the cheese hungrily. I didn't know what to say. They hadn't brought any snacks at all. I couldn't very well deny them cheese, although neither had I offered it to them. I had to take action, things were deteriorating again. The afternoon felt like it would last forever.
"Zak, pass the cheese." I hadn't meant it to sound like a command, and I wasn't sure if it did, but it felt weird once it came out of  my mouth. I felt compelled to keep talking.
"Um, to..." and then since I couldn't remember Mike's friend's name, even then, that sentence dwindled and went out.
"Um, Zak-" But by then he'd gotten the message and got up to pass the cheese over. They both looked delighted to eat something, and I was, in retrospect, happy to share.
"Eat as much as you want," I said unnecessarily, because by the time it got back to me there was barely anything left. Then the cheese was gone.
"I'm really hungry," announced Mike, finally. I was suddenly filled with happiness and warmth, and it took me a few seconds to realize why: Mike was working up to an excuse to leave the scene with his friend. I could feel it coming, a golden age of comfortableness on the horizon. Mike opened his mouth to make his move, but before the words came out, Caleb was on his feet.
"I could go to subway," he said. "I'm hungry too. There's a subway on the other side of the park." Oh, Caleb.
"Um," said Mike.
"What does everybody want?" Suddenly Caleb was walking around the circle, taking orders. It still could've ended there, had I said something, but Ben cemented the deal by announcing that he would accompany Caleb. Lucky bastard. Not that I wanted to leave, though. I couldn't imagine walking that far.
Mike and Jen and Mike's friend all asked for sandwiches. As I watched the three of them try to figure out money and simultaneously try to decide whether they could trust Caleb with their sandwich money after having already agreed to let him go buy them sandwiches all without letting Caleb figure out their reluctance, which he could obviously note just fine, I felt my face turn red. My legs felt like rubber. I wanted to laugh and cry and jump and sleep. I got up and walked a short distance away. When I got back, Caleb and Ben were already walking across the park. Mike and his friend looked glum. Jen looked like she was about to cry. Zak and Emily were cuddling. Incredibly, nobody said anything for another unspecified amount of time. Like maybe 15 minutes. Finally Mike's friend broke the silence.
"Do you think they'll come back?" I could hardly believe it. Then I realized that of all the people there, only I really knew Caleb and Ben.
"Yes," I said, with what I hoped was confidence in my tone. I got up and walked over to the rocks lining the lake. It was prettier there, away from the people. I had no idea what to do near other people - it was better to be alone. Alone, just me and the dancing shapes. The water was playing crazy reflections up and down the beach, skittering and crawling, jumping and breaking. The sun was getting lower in the sky.
    I got back around the same time as Caleb. He told us that Ben had gone home. Typical - I should have realized he'd make his escape. Subway sandwiches were eagerly devoured. I was hungry but I hadn't wanted a sandwich and now I pushed the thought of food out of my mind. Caleb was standing in the middle of the circle, looking bored but amused by the group's silence. The fire was dying down, and he threw in his subway bag. As the plastic burned, a round of protest came from the group.
"Hey, that smells!"
"Dude, don't burn plastic."
Caleb shrugged. The image of a garbage fire in a rusty metal drum came into my mind unbidden. It didn't really smell bad, and it was fun to watch it burn. I was getting kind of cold.
    I watched as Mike and Mike's friend and Jen finished their food. I watched as Mike whispered something to his friend. They actually had an entire whispered conversation. So that's what it comes down to, I thought. I was actually relieved. The act of whispering had drawn sides, and now I could fall comfortably to the other side, stop playing host and mediator. At least, that's what I was thinking. I wanted to act on it, I really did. I wanted to stand up, open my mouth, and talk. I could see myself doing it. I was standing up and telling Mike and his friend to leave. After all, they were being fairly insulting. They were the problem, I was suddenly sure of it. Absolutely convinced. I understood that Caleb made them feel uncomfortable, but I couldn't admit why, not even just to myself. They were wrong to feel that way. I was so convinced that for a moment I thought I'd done it - I thought I'd told them to leave, and that they were about to agree. Then I realized that I was still sitting on a log, right where I'd been for a while now, and that the whole thing had been in my head. I still could have done it, but I didn't. It took Mike another five minutes to summon the nerve.
"Um, we're gonna go," he said. Finally. The release of tension in the atmosphere was visible, tactile, and auditory. By this point, Zak and Emily had withdrawn so far into themselves and each other that I doubted they'd even heard. I wished I was wherever Ben was at the moment. Caleb still looked amused.
"Right," I heard myself saying. The two of them got to their feet unsteadily, with uncertainty, and Jen got up too.
"I'll see you later, she said."
"You're heading out?"
"Yeah."
"Bye, Jen." I wanted to give her a hug, but I couldn't move. I tried to move, but I couldn't. Before I could panic, they were gone, the three of them ambling across the grass and into the sunset, backs to the lake. I was released.
"Wow."
"Yeah," said Caleb. He came over and punched me in the shoulder. It felt good. I stood up. I stretched. I moved my arms in big circles and jumped up and down.
"How you guys doing?" I asked Zak and Emily. She looked at me.
"That was so awkward."
"I know, right?" They stood up, and we all tried to ignore what had happened. I think we were too exhausted to really even care at that point. My head was starting to clear, slowly. We stood and watched the sun set, and Emily and Zak and I had a group hug. Then we got ready to go.
"It's time to get drunk," said Zak.
I agreed it was a great idea and we set off across the park, finally free from that endless afternoon.