Treasure of the Mind. J. Michaels

some meaning out of life? Wait a minute, what about my old buddy Wayne? He taught me meditation and he got me through that rough patch with Gracie a few years back. He always seemed so peaceful and content with his life, even with that old pickup and dinky little apartment. We lost track of each other when I got to be such a big shot at work and thought I was too good to hang out with him. And, oh yeah, he had a teenage daughter who hung herself a few years ago. I need to talk to Wayne; he’ll know what to do!

      Fading, comfortless, and alone

      Wrapped in a meaningless life

      Providing no warmth or shelter

      Driving down lonely highway

      Only the herb for company

      People in my dour life

      Mean nothing any more

      Dare I flirt with death

      One quick flick of the wheel

      And pain is gone

      The grim reaper my newfound friend

      Hope’s light shines in faint glow

      Insisting I remain for a better day

      Perhaps an old friend can lend me

      Comfort and reason to stay

      Finding Wayne

      Last time Wayne and I got together was at this great little vegetarian place where his girlfriend worked as a waitress. Vicky was closing in on forty but she still had a great body and a smile that warmed you all over. In fact, the first time they met was one night when Wayne and I came in for one of our coffee talks. We used to visit different places just to try their coffee and to see if they had a good place where we could solve the world’s problems. That particular night, we had walked into the Gemini restaurant, looked around, and found our own table in a secluded corner booth. Then Vicky walked over, flashed that killer smile of hers, and asked us what we would like. Wayne looked up at her and I might as well have been invisible for all the attention I got after that. I might have been pissed if I hadn’t been married but Wayne was such a great guy and it was a real joy to see two people connect like that. Anyway, they hit it off immediately and the Gemini became our hangout after that, at least until I got too successful to hang out with an ex-hippie who drove a pickup. What a jerk I must have been. Here was this great guy who had a crystal clear mind, a huge heart, and a boundless spirit and I couldn’t see it or appreciate it. A lot like how I treated Chris, I guess; how ironic.

      Last I heard, Wayne was working near downtown Denver at a place called People House; some kind of new age place or counseling center, I think. He would make a fine teacher or even a therapist. He seemed to always know more than everyone else, even us degreed university bigots. I wonder if they’re in the phone book. It must have been at least three years since I last saw him. The way I treated him, I’d be lucky if he would even talk to me.

      The following week I figured what the hell, what do I have to lose? So instead of heading home after work I decided to make a stop at the Gemini and see if Wayne or Vicki, or anyone who knew them, was still there. I hadn’t been around for awhile but maybe someone there would remember our numerous coffee talks. I walked through those same hand-carved heavy oak doors, a little more weather-beaten now but they still gave the place an air of naturalness and character. I stood there for a minute just soaking it all in, remembering all those great times we had; all the late-night talks, the coffee, the great food, the warm glow of the place, and the friendly people who worked there, all came rushing back to me.

      “Sir, can I help you? Sir? Are you here for dinner?”

      My attention snapped back to the present. “Uh . . . not really. I’m looking for someone, an old friend.” I turned and looked into the eyes of a stunning young girl, the kind restaurants always put upfront as hostesses. But like most of the people I remember who worked at the Gemini, she too seemed to have an air of calmness and ease that you only see from people and places that are comfortable with themselves.

      “Sir, would you like to look around for your friend?”

      “Sure,” I replied in a sort of half-aware response. Not like me to be so removed from the moment, but this was different. It was different because sitting in the corner looking directly at me was my old buddy Wayne. After all this time there he was in the same place where we had talked about so many different things years before. “I think I just found him,” I said, as the hostess smiled and walked away.

      “How long has it been, my friend?” I said, as I approached the table. I hoped he still considered me a friend but I really didn’t know what to expect. He looked at me for a minute without saying a word. Then a smile, that wonderful, honest, accepting smile, emerged. He stood up, still without saying a word, and walked over and put his arms around me. I returned the hug and it was as if no time had passed at all. It felt just like those warm, healing times that I had taken for granted so long ago. In that instant, I remembered what it was like to be loved unconditionally by another human being. There was no withholding, no reservation, just an old friend welcoming me back.

      “You’ve lost some weight,” he finally spoke.

      “Well you look as good as ever. Doesn’t time ever affect you? Other than being slightly greyer, you would never know you aged at all.” I found myself gushing like a teenager and I was surprised by the joy I felt at seeing this very special man again.

      “So how are Grace and the girls?” It was odd that he didn’t include Chris. He knew him so well and they were pretty close at one time. Of course, Wayne always had a way with kids. They gravitated to him and he always seemed to be surrounded by children who he somehow managed to enthrall with the simplest of things. One minute he would be talking to you and the next he would be off leading a bunch of them on a rock hunt or a bird-scouting adventure.

      “Grace and the girls are doing fine. You know Grace; she always seems to keep all of us on an even keel.”

      “You don’t look like a person on an even keel, my old friend.” Wayne was never one to waste time with a lot of small talk. He was only ever interested in talking about things that really mattered to him and he had a way of making them matter to you. “In fact, you look like hell.” I felt the tears coming. In the presence of this gentle man whom I hadn’t seen in years, I was about to cry. What the hell was wrong with me? I had controlled the feelings so well up to now, being strong and putting on a good show for everyone.

      “You still don’t mince words, do you?” After a long pause and from somewhere deep inside me, I added, “I am in hell.”

      “I know,” he said simply and with great kindness. We both just stood there. I was frozen in this sudden surge of grief and Wayne waited for me. “Sit down, brother,” he finally said. “We’ll have some coffee and talk, just like old times.” With those oddly comforting words, we both sat. “Tell me about your hell and we’ll see if there’s a way out.” So we ordered coffee and we talked.

      “Gentlemen, I’m sorry but we are closing and as much as I hate kicking you both out, my husband would like to see me before he goes to work in the morning.” Those words broke the spell, a spell that had lasted for nearly six hours. At that precise moment, I realized that I had, for however brief a time, felt whole again.

      “Well old buddy, this is my treat in more ways than one,” I said as I handed the waitress a twenty and told her to keep the change. As we walked together to the parking lot we were both silent, as if savoring something very profound. “I’ll call you,” was all I said as Wayne got into that same old beat-up, blue pickup truck. He just smiled and nodded as if he knew that I would.

      Oh sweet joy, light in my darkness

      A warm heart welcomes me back

      Distracted from anguish for a moment

      Not so alone now

      The hope light shining brighter

      Basking in the past with beloved friend

      Sheltered