"The One With The Footprints"

Thursday, May 11, 1995

“The One With The Birth”

Plink!

Is it raining? I turned from Phoebe’s hysterical waving hands toward the darkening sky. May had been hot, dry, and long. Summer break and the release from school seemed a lifetime away. But I was young. Every feeling seemed like it would last forever.

Ross was back and my attention returned to the black box television mounted on my dresser. 

Plink! Plink!

Can’t they wait till commercial? I threw the covers off my legs, stomping to the thin paned window.

Plink! 

This time I saw the pebble strike, saw the glass shudder in its frame. I edged around the laundry my mom had washed three days ago and left me to fold, good luck with that, I glanced down at the lawn. 

I’ll never forget how she looked that night. Standing on the freshly trimmed grass with heavy black boots and a red painted smirk, her shoulders jumped with her breath when I came into view. The heat off the asphalt made the air shimmer behind her. She tossed her chin. 

I slowly raised the window. “Yeah?”

“Nathan, right?” she called, tilting her head to one side.

“Do I know you?”

She shook her head. ‘Probably not, but we’ve gone to the same school for the last decade. I’m Alice.”

“Oh,” I said, swallowing. “Hey.”

She glanced over her shoulder. “Well come on, let’s go.” She turned away, expecting me to follow. 

“Where?”

She turned back, her eyes glassy and round. Her smile was gone. “Just trust me. It’s important.”

I slammed the window shut. Who was this girl? This random person standing on my lawn asking me to … what? Follow her into the night? That was crazy … insane. 

Cursing, I grabbed my plaid overshirt. 

She smiled as I crossed the lawn.

Our first stop was the convenience store around the corner. She bought slurpees, insisting I get one too, and complimented the clerk’s shirt. He smiled, then looked at me and glanced quickly away. That made her grin. She winked at him as she set down a five dollar bill.

I opened my mouth to insist that I pay just as my hand landed on my empty pocket. Dad always told me to pay for the ladies I take out, but I wasn’t taking her out. She was taking me … but where?

She drank her slurpee noisily as we walked down the block, staring up at the sky. She swallowed hard then touched her head. “Ooh, brain freeze.”

“So,” I stopped walking, “where are we going, Alice?” 

“Just one more stop.”

“Where?”

Bowling?

I glanced at her, hopping excitedly at the counter’s edge, waiting for her shoes. The clerk asked for my size.

“None for me, thanks.”

“Not fair. You have to participate,” Alice said, raising a brow. “Come on, don’t be embarrassed cause you have big feet.”

I shook my head and shrugged. Why draw the line at bowling? I’d already come out, let her buy me a drink, walked half a mile, might as well bowl.

She led the way to the lane and strapped on the ugly brown pair before picking out a ball. She stood debating the merits of a red or purple ball for a long time, and at last returned with a lime green one. 

She obviously didn’t come here because she was good at it. Most of her balls were gutter balls, but she laughed anyway. She cheered when she knocked down a pin. 

I smiled, watching her victory dance. 

“Let’s see you beat that!”

I did. She celebrated even harder for my four pins. Her silly cheers made me laugh. When our game devolved into granny shots, gutter balls, and red faces we sat together over a steaming plate of nacho fries. I tried to talk her out of the jalapenos, but she insisted on burning her tongue. Her face turned red and she panted, wafting air over her flaming taste buds.

“I told you!” I said, laughing.

She gulped water, wincing. “It makes it worse somehow.”

“You’re actually … a lot of fun, Alice.” I smiled at her, pulling a fry from the bottom to avoid the spicy toppings. “I don’t know why we never hung out before.”

“You’ve been busy,” she raised a brow. 

“Well, maybe we should do this again.”

Her fingers paused, a fry halfway to her mouth. 

“Unless you don’t …” I shrugged. “That’s fine.”

“I’m -- I won’t be around much longer.”

What did that mean? “Are you moving?”

She shook her head.  

“Then where are you going?” 

“I don’t know, honestly. But I’m … going.” She finished her fry, chewing through a frown.

“Why did you bring me out tonight?” 

That brought her smile back. “I always wanted you to notice me and I got tired of waiting.” She leaned forward. “You’re not very observant.”

“First I’ve got big feet, now I’m not observant? You’ve got a weird way of making friends, Alice.”

She smirked.

“Well maybe you’ll come back to visit if you -- ”

My eyes burst open. Early morning sunlight flooded my room and the clock’s red letters glared at the wall. I was late for school. Blinking slowly, I stared at the ceiling. It was a dream? It was so vivid, so real. A glance at the window showed her boot prints on the lawn. My smile slowly wilted into a frown. Where were my footprints going out to meet her? Her two solid feet, bending the fresh trimmed blades down to the ground were stark and clear, as if she had stood there staring for a long while but no one had come to meet her. 

At school, people were buzzing, talking together in hushed voices and in every hand was her face on a flier. Alice.

Allie Benson, Sophomore, was found by her parent’s this morning after she took her own life. Please give her sister and family space to grieve. 

I stared at the painted mouth and slanted eyes, I couldn’t believe it. 

Thirty years later, I still can’t. Her name was Alice. Alice Benson. Thirty years ago today she took her life. In an hour I’ll go visit her sister, put flowers on her grave as I do every year. But for now, I blink away the tears as I wake from the dream again. 

The one where I go to meet her. 

The one where we talk. 

The one where a second pair of boot prints join her on the lawn.