Ghosts from the Past...............Arion

In 1993 I was in my old hometown, out shopping. I had come back from my second overseas job and was working as manager of a local bookstore, which I later bought. On this particular day, I was coming out of a hobby shop where I had just purchased a tube of model airplane glue which I planned to use to fix a broken shelf. From out of nowhere, I heard someone call my name in a sing-song derogatory way. It was a catcall that a local bully used to use on me when I'd been a grammar school student.

Almost immediately I felt a flush of embarrassment and shame, and then I stopped. That's not me, I told myself. That's not who I am. With an effort, I shrugged aside the insult and looked for the source of the name-calling. Ten feet away was Marco (not his real name), a persistent childhood tormentor. He was seated astride a chrome-inlaid dirt-bike, wearing a motorcycle T-shirt and short pants, just like I remembered from our school days. Flanking him were two tough-looking teenagers who were strangers to me.

Forcing a smile onto my face, I walked over to him and grinned. "Is that the best you can do, Marco?"

"Duuhhh!" he said, putting a stupid look on his face. His two court jesters laughed automatically.

My smile stayed in place and I shook my head. "We had our ten-year reunion last month, Marco. Why weren't you there? Remember Colette, your old girlfriend? She's living in Omaha, now, and she's got two kids. And Wally, remember Wally, your old pal? He graduated from Georgia Tech, and he's gone to work at NASA! Robert is playing professional baseball, and Jill is working in Washington D.C. I also heard that Maureen went to Africa with the Peace Corps! Why weren't you there? Don't you have anything to show for being ten years older?"

"You're such a dork," he said, sneering. He made "hyuk-yuk" sounds like Goofy and looked at me for a reaction.

"Oh," I said, nodding my head. "I see. You don't have anything to show off, do you? You haven't changed. You're still riding around on a dirt bike, still dressing like you're fourteen. You're still hanging out all day at the arroyo where you smoke pot and drink beer and pretend that you're really cool."

Marco's friends stopped grinning and stared first at me and then at him. Marco lost his goofball expression, and his face went red.

"I just got back from Asia. I've been offered a job in Korea," I said. It was sort of a lie, as I had already written to tell the company I was turning down their offer, but Marco didn't need to know that.

"Catcalling me doesn't work anymore, Marco. I don't need your approval, and I never did! No one needs to justify themselves to you because you're not important. You peaked when you were fourteen, and you never went any further. In a couple more years these guys will be gone and you'll be nothing but a wino."

He said nothing, and dropped his eyes, perhaps looking at himself for the first time in years.

"You're pathetic, Marco. Make something of yourself before it's too late." I turned away and walked back to my car.

As I backed out of my parking space I saw that he was still standing there astride his dirt bike, staring at the ground. His teen admirers were starting to fidget, already bored and looking for something to distract themselves with. Their lord and master, by contrast, was totally distracted, and perhaps realizing that he'd been that way for quite some time.

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