Nature's Way

Rami straightened out the bus ticket clenched in his sweaty palm. He didn’t want to go home. His stomach squeezed up, displacing the small breakfast he’d managed to swallow down to the bottom of his throat. He reached for his phone in his back pocket, but stopped when he remembered this morning’s call. For a second all he could do was breath deep and blink furiously, thoughts replaced with a despair that simultaneously paused and sped up time. He didn’t know how many times the boy had asked to sit next to him on the wooden bench before he was able to hear it.

“Rami, right? Can I sit next to you? There’s nowhere else to sit. I can share my snacks.” Rami looked up and saw another student with an afro that sagged under its own weight offering him a box of dried bananas. He slid over, trying to inconspicuously wipe at the wet under his eyes and nose with the sleeve of his hoodie.

“I’m Ghalen, by the way. I go to NAU too, I think we have the same English 105 class. Ugh, I can’t believe we actually have to write a research paper; I can barely write a text.” Rami didn’t know what to think of Ghalen. He remembered him from class, but not as a guy who went up to people offering snacks. The more he thought about it, the less he was sure he’d even heard Ghalen speak. Rami slung his Jansport off his shoulders and onto his lap, hugging the black fabric.

“So.” Ghalen munched loudly, the sweet scent wafting over to Rami. “You going home to spend time with your family?”

Rami’s throat seized up. He swallowed the painful tightness away. “Yeah.”

Ghalen nodded. “Me too. Well. They need help moving out of the house. But it’ll still be nice seeing them.” Ghalen’s lips upturned in a way that made Rami’s chest ache on behalf of him. He looked him up and down, took in his red Converse covered in black sharpie, his dirty jeans, and his dip-dyed hoodie zipped up so it dug into the dark brown skin of his neck. He was missing something.

“Where are your bags?” Rami asked. He regretted it as he saw Ghalen’s cheeks flush.

“I’ll only be there for a day, no sense hauling anything extra is there?” he said too quickly. Rami nodded in agreement, unsure how to respond. He looked down at his Jansport, then back at Ghalen.

“Do you need anything for the weekend?” Rami unzipped his backpack. “I have a couple of shirts, if you want—”

“No! No, I’m okay.” Ghalen laughed so loud it echoed off the walls of the small building. His energy was so sincere that instead of feeling embarrassed, Rami felt laughter bubble up inside him as well. A few moments later they calmed down, and Rami noticed that he felt light and perfect.

“I wasn’t expecting you to laugh,” Rami said, shaking off residual giggles.

“I wasn’t expecting me to laugh either.” Ghalen closed the box of dried bananas and set them under the bench. “You just looked so concerned, I thought the actual explanation for my missing luggage would make me look crazy. I’ve never had anybody offer me their clothes before. Money? Sure. Leftovers? Yeah, and sometimes I even take them. But clothes?” Ghalen laughed that full laugh again, which made Rami feel like he could handle anything. “I didn’t realize Mother Teresa was here.”

Rami shook his head, zipping his backpack back up. “Why don’t you have any luggage then?”

Ghalen slouched down. “It’s kinda a personal philosophy. I figure to be kind to humanity, you first have to be kind to nature, which fuels humanity. And the clothes industry,” he shook his head, “is really doing Mother Nature dirty. So, I wear my clothes until I notice people starting to avoid me, then I change them.” Ghalen sighed. “Now that I think of it, there’s probably a better way to be environmentally conscious. A rotating system, maybe?”

Rami didn’t know what he expected, but that was not it. Still, he found himself respecting Ghalen’s choices. He thought he’d grown independent in the past few months, but he didn’t go so far as changing his lifestyle to fit his goals in life. “Sorry I thought you were homeless,” he said.

Ghalen shrugged. “No harm done.”

Rami tried thinking of something else to say, but small talk had always been lost on him. He looked over at Ghalen, who had settled his head on the back of the bench and closed his eyes. Soon his thoughts wandered back to this morning, to his mother’s cracked voice, his grandmother’s sobbing in the background. Rami pulled his hood over his head, his dark curls pushing against the fabric. He tried to stop reliving the moment, but his brain wasn’t his own as it repeated his mother’s words over and over. Your abuelo passed away.

Rami’s eyes and nose heated up and he couldn’t hold the tears back. He wiped them away quietly, but his throat spasmed and he coughed, waking Ghalen. Rami looked away quickly, willing himself to take deep breaths, but the more he felt Ghalen’s gaze on the back of his head, the less he was able to push back the tears, and soon he was sobbing.

“Hey, Rami. What’s the matter?” Rami felt Ghalen’s stubby fingers rub his shoulder consolingly. After a few more sobs, Rami was able to reign the tears in. He turned back to Ghalen, could feel the redness of his eyes and the tenderness of his face from the hot tears he’d wiped away.

“I’m sorry, it-it’s just been a rough morning.”

“No need to apologize.” He let go of Rami’s shoulder. “Sometimes talking about it helps too, if you want.”

Rami usually didn’t talk about his personal life and feelings with strangers. Heck, he usually didn’t talk about his personal anything with anybody. But something about Ghalen’s gaze, his very essence, made Rami feel like he was being heard, in more than the typical sense. Maybe talking about it now would give him the strength to help his mother and grandmother later, he thought. He took a deep breath. “My mom called me this morning, saying my abuelo passed away.” Rami waved off Ghalen’s apology. “We all knew it was coming, but still. When somebody’s alive, it’s easier to think they’re different, that they’ll be the one percent, or that they’ll tough it out.” Rami heard his words echo back in his head. “Anyways, it’s not your problem, you don’t have to say anything or—”

“Rami.” Rami stopped talking; he didn’t even know what he was saying anyways. “I’m so sorry.”

Rami felt his eyes sting. “Me too,” he choked out.

They sat silently for a while, and Rami wished Ghalen would rub his shoulder again, would hug him so tight his heart and soul would pop right back where they were supposed to be. He pulled the hood off his head and ruffled out his curls, knowing it was impossible to make them behave without a shower. Rami yawned, letting his eyes close. They stung from crying, and that combined with the numbness of grief and the early morning call made him an easy victim for sleep. One moment he remembered hard wood against the back of his head and the next he felt his cheek against something soft. He blinked lazily, saw a red pair of Converse and a dirty pair of jeans, then sat up straight, embarrassed.

“I must’ve fallen asleep—I didn’t mean to lean on you—I’m sorry—”

Ghalen looked at him, and he fell quiet. “You were tired. You fell asleep. What else were you supposed to do? Pack a mattress?”

Rami smiled sheepishly. “I guess not.”        

Ghalen smiled back. “While you were asleep, I was thinking. Part of my personal philosophy is listening to nature and trying to figure out what it’s saying about humanity, in little and big ways. So, for a simple example, global warming. Mother Nature is showing us the ice caps melting, hurricanes getting larger and unmanageable, increased wildfires. What is she saying?” Ghalen paused, waiting.

Rami blinked. “Uh, stop using oil?”

Ghalen shrugged. “I mean, yeah. They’re basically big ol’ stop signs telling us to not continue what we’re doing. Anyways, Mother Nature works in big ways –global warming is happening—and little ways. Look outside. Those clouds are dark. Snow dark. But it’s not snowing, it’s barely drizzling. Maybe Mother Nature heard you, wishes you safe travels on your way back home. Maybe Mother Nature knew just the right amount of rain to send me inside to sit next to you, so you could sleep on my shoulder.”

Even though he wanted to believe what Ghalen was saying, all Rami could do was shrug in response.

Ghalen sighed. “You don’t believe me.”

“No,” Rami blurted. “Well, maybe not entirely, but—”

“That’s ok. I’m kinda used to it. I’m too eccentric for the hippies and too spiritual for the environmental science majors, so…” Ghalen looked away.

Rami racked his brain, trying to remember what he learned in high school biology. He cursed the teacher’s monotony during first period. After a minute he was able to dreg up a single usable memory. “Well I think that, um,” Ghalen turned, looked with upraised eyebrows, and Rami nearly forgot everything he was about to say. “I think humanity is kind of like that forest that has a bunch of trees but is really just one tree with a bunch of branches growing out of its roots, you know?”

Ghalen smiled. “The Great Banyan in India.”

Rami nodded. “We’re all connected, all growing and living differently. When a tree dies, maybe the others around it will be affected, but a tree way on the other side of the forest won’t. I don’t think nature singles us out, decides who she’s going to pay attention to one day or the next. But maybe we’re connected to nature. Mother Nature is the main tree, so I think she works to create a balance of sorts. To make sure the pieces of herself are okay.” Rami scratched the nape of his neck. “I don’t really know, it was just—”

“I like it.” Ghalen adjusted his hoodie on his shoulders. “Subtle instead of direct.”

Rami nodded. The overhead speaker announced that their train had arrived, and Rami got up, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “So, do you wanna sit next to me on the train?”

Ghalen stood up. “I’m actually not going back home.” Rami’s heart dropped at the thought of having to ride five hours alone. “Hey, don’t look too beat up about it. My parents texted me while you were asleep. My older brother rented a U-Haul and is gonna help them out.” He started walking towards the back exit. “But I’ll see you in English. That essay, am I right?”

Rami waved the boy off, then headed for the train. He didn’t know if he would change his seat in class to sit next to Ghalen after getting back from the funeral. He wanted to. But for now, he pulled the straps of his backpack tighter and lined up with the rest of the civilians, thinking about how he could work some of that nature philosophy into kind words for his abuelo. And hoping that the train’s seats would be as comfortable to lay on as Ghalen’s shoulder.