My 20th Birthday

We were moving into what would become my favorite apartment ever, in Studio City, California. It was a very old two bedroom, and the entire side of it was all windows. It was my 20 birthday, June 22 1995. Birthdays have always failed me, and this one was no different. No one remembers. No one plans parties. So I was spending the day preparing to move into this lovely apartment on Tujunga.  I had eight full hours before I had to be at work to clean it out and disinfect everything I possibly could. I had all the windows open because I was trying to get rid of the musty old apartment smell.

In Studio City, right near Universal Studios, there are huge trees everywhere and their branches canopy over the streets. Those tree-lined streets are one of the things I love about Ventura Blvd. Trees, coffee shops, gay bars, boutiques, Jerry’s Famous Deli, and antique stores. My kind of paradise.

On this day, with all the windows opened in my empty apartment, I learned that the sound of the wind rustling through the leaves is one of my most favorite sounds in the whole wide world. It was spring in Los Angeles, but the wind had that cool chill to it. This was no matter; I had to have the windows open to air out the place. The wind of course was doing a great job helping me. I am naturally cold, but I thought it was worth the chill on my skin to hear the rustling leaves.

I had the radio on while I was scrubbing, vacuuming, and cleaning.

I walked from the back bedroom to the kitchen to grab the Windex.

There in the dining room. The first notes of “Fishin’ in the Dark” began to play and I froze. Stuck right to that spot in the middle of the dining room hall. I stopped breathing. My muscles went rigid. I couldn’t have moved if I tried. The song I had not heard in a year, played on.  Though I was silent, frozen, tears were gliding down my face in streams. I wasn’t crying, I wasn’t sobbing, I wasn’t even moving a single muscle in my face, and yet the tears rolled down.

“Lazy yellow moon comin’ up tonite
Shinin’ thru the trees,
Crickets are singin’ and lightning be floatin on the breeze
Baby get ready…..”

Michael came up behind me to reassure me. He pressed his bare chest to my back. He slid his hands down my arms to my hands. He nuzzled his face in my hair. When his mouth was by my ear he said, “Shhh, it’s okay, I’m right here.”

He was only making it worse. I was still staring straight ahead with those dead eyes glazed over unfocused. He felt so good, as always. Despite the chilly wind he was so warm against me. He felt so big and strong, and I always loved that about him. He owned a landscaping company and so his arms, shoulders, and chest were always sun-tanned and muscular, just as I remembered. He was exactly the same as he had been two years ago. He felt the same, he smelled the same. He touched me in the same ways. His loving hands covering mine were a little bit larger than my own, and so rough from all that yard work. His hot breath on my neck was even so familiar and comforting, just like all that time we spent cuddled up on the couch watching TV. I could hear him breathing in my right ear; inhaling and exhaling so calmly.

“Across the field where the creek turns back

by the ol’ stump road
I’m gonna take you to a special place

that nobody knows
Baby get ready”

I didn’t want this to be happening. I didn’t want him to touch me after he hadn’t for so long. I didn’t want to be back in his arms again. I didn’t want to feel how warm, and strong, and healthy he was. I cried harder, really crying now. Yet, I was still staring out into nothing.

And the song played on.

“Oooooooh,
You and me going fishing in the dark,
Lying on our backs and counting the stars
Where the cool grass grows.
Down by the river in the full moon light,
We’ll be fallin’ in love in the middle of the night
Just movin’ slow…
Stayin’ the whole night through,

feels so good to be with you”

    

It was our song. He sang it to me all the time. For three years. Whenever we were in the car; driving around town, road trips, or quick runs to the store for cigarettes. He would sing it to me while we were lying outside looking up at the stars. Even during the commercials while we were lying on the couch watching TV. It was our song. “You and me gone fishing in the dark, just lying on our backs and counting the stars… just moving slow….”

He would say how much he wanted to take me fishin’ in the dark. Just so we could make love outside under the stars in the bottom of the boat.

For him to be touching me again like this, holding me again, seemed infinitely unfair after I had been so long without him.

  

“Now Josie,” he said right into my ear, “I’m not going to dance with you if it is just going to make you cry. I don’t want to make you cry, leech. I never ever thought you would be so hurt like this. I’m not going to dance with you if you are just going to stand there and cry and be in so much pain.”

Of course I didn’t want him to stop, so I calmed myself down.

And he began rocking me. Swaying back and forth to the song. I leaned back against him so that my head was against his shoulder. He pressed his lips to my neck. He was keeping me so warm, despite the chill in the apartment from the wind. I closed my eyes, and just concentrated on being with him. How heavenly it felt to have his arms around me. How deliciously sweet he smelled. How nice he was to lean against. How cute he sounds when he is humming in my ear.

Much sooner than I wanted it to, the song ended. He nudged me forward a bit so that I wasn’t leaning against him. I heard him say, “Happy Birthday, Leech. We never danced together before, so I thought this would be a good present.”  I realized I was cold again, and he had walked away from me.

Another song came on the radio, but I didn’t hear it. I was too overwhelmed by everything that had just happened. I had goose bumps from the chilly wind rushing through the windows. I was stuck thinking about what he had just said, “We never danced together before.” He was right of course.

When we first started dating it was right before junior prom and neither of us wanted to go. We had been talking about school dances on the phone one night and he was excited because I would be the first of his girlfriends that could put her head on his shoulder. He was 6′2, without his cowboy boots. He didn’t even have to bend down very far to kiss me. Since I was a dancer for 15 years he also hoped that I could teach him enough so that he didn’t look like an idiot. Yet somehow, in three years, despite how much we loved each other, despite his frequent reminders, we never took a single moment to stop. To just stop, and hold one another, and rock back and forth to the music.

I can not hear the song “Fishin in the Dark” without remembering that in 1995 for my 20^th birthday Michael danced with me for the very first time, to our song. Even though he hadn’t touched me in nearly a year and a half. 

Michael P.  H*****, 19, of Scottsdale, a Northern Arizona University student, died February 2, 1994. He was born in Concord, California. Survivors include his parents Vicki and Philip, his sisters, Kristen and Shannon; and grandparents. Visitation: 6 to 8 pm. Friday, Whitney & Murphy Arcadia Funeral Home, 4800 E. Indian School Road. No services are planned. Contributions: John C. Lincoln Trauma Center, 250 E. Dunlap Ave., Phoenix AZ 85020