The Encounter
She was gone, but her presence and the emotional intensity was not and I was out of sorts. I wanted to go back into that warm light. It just couldn’t end as it had. I lay in bed, frustrated, feeling helpless, with the day wanting to begin around me. No fucking way was I ready! Count me out…….I don’t ever want this day to begin.
But the cat on the bed was restless, wanting to be fed and not to be denied. I could feel the experience fading, as I tried to hang on to those moments. There was the reality of the encroaching day….. places to go and people to see, but I knew that I would struggle all day to keep this experience close to me. It was warm there. There was happiness and promise. I was content.
All day it played in my mind, like that song you just can’t get out of your head, but I did not want it to leave. I wanted it to become real and if that couldn’t happen then remain sealed in my memory bank, accessible at any time. That is what happened. The experience is as easily recalled today as the morning it occurred over twenty years ago. It is remembered this way……………
A classroom without a number on the door. I was uncomfortable that I was likely in the wrong place for my first class on the first day of classes. Students were bustling about in the corridors seemingly knowing where they were going, and several entered the classroom. I was too old to be there; everyone was young, very young….it felt so weird. I was also in the first seat in the first row. Not the place I would normally sit for any class. A female wearing a flowered black dress walked past me to the front of the room. Glancing up, I had this strange feeling that I knew her; the passing profile and that hair, jet black and very thick. What clicked in my head was an impossibility or improbability at the very least. Bojangles? This moving figure somewhat resembled her, but things were moving too quickly to know for certain. If it was, this could be very awkward. There was a past…….that painful break up, the anguish that she felt, the calls from her roommate expressing concern for her wellbeing, the insensitivity that I showed, the absolute cruelty on my part………so what if she was devastated, that’s how young love can be……..suck it up and move on, I thought then. I certainly would and assumed that she should as well.
This intruder had finished her business with the professor and began to pass me as she proceeded out of the classroom. There was another quick glance towards her which she did not see. I was a little more certain now, but still in disbelief and fearful that in fact it could be her. I had wished for this moment. Now realized, was I ready to deal with what I had done years ago? What if she bravely stopped and asked, “is that you………its been a long time”. What happens then?………will I have the courage to apologize as planned or should I check to see if there is room under this desk to hide or crawl? Perhaps I should just play dumb and simply say, “ you must be mistaken”?
What an asshole……. take the mirrors down…….I can’t stomach what is looking back at me.
She did stop at my desk and asked if it was me. I didn’t freeze, totally, at least. I responded as surprised and casually as possible given I was now very exposed; “Bojangles, is that you?” What shame and terror. Could one be more caught at such an unexpected time. I had had over the years so much regret. That wasn’t enough? Now, here, with no forewarning, face to face. What the fuck! My wish had come true; is it “ be careful what you ask for?”
It was an awkward moment for the both of us. She was not the picture of confidence and composure, nor was I. Why would she have been? In fact, she was nervous, and underneath probably doubting her decision to engage me. Having finally experienced the kind of hurt she felt, I was not surprised. It would have been more fitting for her to knock the books off my desk, kick my chair, or simply walk by, lean down, and say “ I survived you, asshole; life has been good and there are no regrets! ” But she stopped. That took a lot of guts and self-control. I am sure that she fantasized, as she approached, knocking what she hoped was steaming hot coffee onto my lap. She took a higher road. Looking back, I should not have been surprised. This was “Bojangles”; there was always something different and special about her. There was that fragility, and an overwhelming sensitivity mixed with sadness. But yet a strength and presence…………. she would stop and of course there would be civility.
Walking outside the academic building , the campus had a familiar feel. Holding hands, our arms swaying, we had bonded again so quickly. I felt satisfied that all this was happening. She seemed very happy but also afraid. Blindly, my words to her concerned a fresh start. But she, although enjoying the moment, was very reluctant to agree to that. There was that pain from years ago. One may get past that but never volunteers to relive the experience. There were scars that had healed slowly………..I should have known that and kept my mouth shut.
We were now on inline skates. She had made it down this long descent and had moved into the high grass to give me as much room as possible. I was beginning my descent, picking up speed and realizing that I was losing both balance and control. It was a sliding fall with me trying to keep my head up and legs out in front of me. A nasty slide on a very hard surface. It ended with torn clothing and a few scrapes and bruises. Laying there, looking up and seeing her walk towards me I picked myself up and surveyed the damage. She took my hand and we continued our journey, this time without skates.
Newly arrived on campus, with no idea as to living accommodations, I asked her to help me find my dorm. As we walked, there was something I had to tell her…….something she needed to know. But not now. I continued to press her on getting back together. But she was not jumping back into anything……..only a smile as a response, but a sad smile at that. The dorm was a rustic building among several structures in the middle of a wooded area. But the rooms were not ready, so the building remained closed for the moment. I protested to a female staff member that I had to move in. She suggested that I wait like everyone else and go to the main hall to locate the specific room that had been assigned to me. We were late in arriving . I walked into a huge empty room and was told to find the seat with my name on it and the room number could be found there. Walking up and down the rows and aisles I was unable to find my seat. Someone had to direct me to the right place where I found the needed information. Room number in hand, I overheard an upperclassman complaining that she had been assigned a suite that included a male underclassman. In my mind, I was convinced that she was referring to me.
We eventually entered the dorm and walked down a narrow corridor jammed with students, parents, and their belongings. It was obvious that we were going to have to wait our turn to move down the hallway. We found ourselves by a window, both of us resting against the sill. This was really her. I had lost any doubts when we first held hands…… those small, warm hands. She was the same and I could not have been more pleased. Now was the time to tell her. She needed to know. Slouching, I looked up at her and said “I have looked for you many times…………I never forgot and I searched to no avail over the years.” She looked down with a pleased but sad smile. For a very long moment, there was nothing. She finally responded , “I have a daughter in Middletown”. I had no immediate follow up to her puzzling response. After a long pause, I responded that I had been a teacher. Bojangles, with that same sad smile, said that she had been as well. With that there was only silence as things began to fade. She moved or perhaps floated toward the hallway entrance in which she disappeared. It ended there…..nothing more was said.
So who was “Bojangles”? The musician Jerry Jeff Walker had released the song “Mr. Bojangles” in 1968. In a New Orleans jail he had met this street performer, mostly drunkard, who spoke wisely and told the story of his beloved dog whom he still mourned after many years. He had made a dramatic impression on Jerry Jeff. I had met her the same year in a bar called the Hasbrouck Room. She was a freshman learning the ropes. She wore very wide tartan plaid bell bottoms, knit top, a ceramic pipe between her lips, and funky hat of course. Somewhat unusual attire for a college mixer even though it was the sixties ( a street corner in New Orleans would have been much more appropriate it seemed to me at the time). So it began like that, a Jerry Jeff Walker moment. She was magical; the attraction was undeniable. It struck me that she was an old soul with wisdom beyond her years and a sensitivity that would cause her to mourn the death of a beloved pet for eternity. And on the dance floor, a bit light on her feet. So the nickname “Bojangles” came to my head, to my lips, and overtime to her heart and mine. And honestly, I thought Bill “Bojangles” Robinson would agree with my decision since he was a bit light on his feet as well.
It was very intense, with weekend visits to her campus and letters in between. Great intimacy even though I never touched her. Even after her signaling to me that whatever we did would be okay, it never came to that. There was just no need at the time to introduce this into our world………things were more than fine as they were. But it ended after several months, at least for me. In looking back, I don’t know or remember why. It just seemed to be over and I wanted to move on. It was a shameful breakup which must have seemed to come out of nowhere. She was devastated and inconsolable according to calls from her roommate. I was, for the most part, detached and unresponsive. Remarkable when I look back that my behavior towards her could have taken such a turn.
Over the years I have felt great embarrassment and remorse. My behavior was despicable and the height of selfishness. She deserved so much better, the least of which was a sincere explanation and apology from me. As I found a better place in my life I did look for Bojangles. There were a number of unsuccessful attempts before I was able to locate her brother and sister-in-law. But my calls and messages to them were never returned. Nothing but dead ends resulted. Bojangles had been a quiet and private person. She may indeed have made the decision to simply disappear in her own way. But more likely, she may have been tipped off to my search, and wanted nothing to do with it or me….. who could blame her. Sadly I speculated that she may have died relatively young which would account for her name never coming up and every lead going nowhere. If that had been the case it would have been a devastating find. She deserved a long life. She deserved my apology. She experienced great hurt at my doing……….I needed her to know my sorrow, regret, and remorse.
Another possibility that haunted me for years had as its source not in my egotism but in fear. She was young and very sensitive. Perhaps the pain I had caused was too much to bear. There were the calls from her roommate. She seemed to have disappeared from the face of the planet. She was just out of high school and on her own in a new environment. It may have been her first serious relationship. Perhaps there was a breakdown or maybe even something worse. It terrified me to consider either. There was so much life in her……so much potential. She was different, unique, and bound to have made a mark, an impression, a difference. I would have told her then and at any subsequent time………I wasn’t worth it. You were beyond where I was……….you deserved so much more!
Years later, with greater online research tools, I did find her in a small New England town, married with two grown children. There was great relief that she was alive to be found. Those haunting fears could now be put to rest. There had been closure on her part. It was comforting to know that an unfortunate run in with an early version of me did not make a difference. And with that relief also came a smile over my inflated notion that she would have never gotten over me. How we overestimate our influence and power while underestimating the resiliency of others. I remembered the dream and what she could and probably would have said; “I survived you, asshole. there are no regrets”!
I thought this had always been about closure for me. A simple, much overdo apology to someone who deserved so much more. She had done nothing to warrant that kind of treatment; it had been about all me. Of course any contact now, I feared, would be unexpected, bizarre, and intrusive. I did not want to cause her problems………I had done enough of that. I just needed a way to say I was sorry. So I took a chance…… a simple letter, asking her to excuse the intrusion and to accept my deepest apology for the hurt and pain that I had caused. I closed by wishing her many more years of continued happiness. That was the message that I had wanted to express to her for years. It was done………..time to put this to rest.
On occasion, I have reflected back to the totality of that dream. There is young love, great despair, a stark reminder that life moves on and that there is no going back. Bojangles will stay a wonderful memory of what was. Her life, like mine, has moved on to another place. What happened then was on me and still is. There is no remedying that for her or me. I can only bring closure to this having had the opportunity to apologize, which was never a certainty. I truly wanted the best for her and that hope was realized. Safe travels Bojangles. Enjoy a long, satisfying life………….