This is a reproduction of an actual event in the way that a show like Dateline might stage a 'dramatic reenactment' of actual events. The dialogue and the way events unfold is neither exact nor precise in part to protect the innocent etc, etc, and largely because I can't remember exactly the way things were, and also because sometimes one must edit occurrences to make for a story that flows together a bit more. Thus, we can take the following as 'based on a true story' rather than as 'the real 100 percent accurate story of real life'.
In the post-apocalyptic war zone that is the 6 Corners at 4am your small group of friends or co-workers are your only allies against the unpredictable Infected. The Infected stumble haphazardly into the street. They fight. They yell. They puke. They relieve themselves in alleys and generally comport themselves as though law has vanished. Many operate obliviously, abandoning themselves to the chaotic will of Bacchus. Others, however, seem to have a keen nose for new flesh. They sense those who are un--or less-- infected and force undesired interaction.
Having just recently emerged from work, my little group of four counted among the, relatively, un-infected. The warm glow of whiskey and a beer only just touched our cheeks. We were at that most vulnerable point when the heady joy of post-work camaraderie makes 'I have some beers in my fridge, why don't you all come over' seem like a viable option even though everyone knows the correct answer is 'I'm going to take this cab home right now.' So we stood in loose formation. Cigarettes were lit. Jokes were told. A scuffle down the street drew our attention momentarily, and then he was upon us. A Stranger. His approach hit us at our weakest point.
-Do you have a light?
His English was accented, not merely by drunkenness but by having been raised elsewhere. The slight sway in his stance and the glassy appearance of his eyes clearly marked him among the Infected.
Our resident Friendly quickly stepped forward with the requested light. Now, a Friendly's approach to the late-night battlefield is completely opposite to my own. While I view every one outside my own group with suspicion and disdain and am reluctant to give so much as my name to Infected strangers, our Friendly not only introduced all of us, but asked the Stranger's name in return.
Now our group had a new appendage, S____. We clustered close together and S__ faced us. We smoked (minus myself).
After looking us all over through drooping, blood-shot eyes, S__ proclaimed,
- Life is a Dream.
He swayed backward, then forward and swallowed a burp.
- Life is a dream.
The emphasis of repetition seemed to give him enough certainty to repeat the statement a third time, accompanied by an exclamatory flourish of his cigarette.
- Life is a dream!
- Row, row your boat,
I muttered under my breath.
I knew this was a dangerous move, the Infected can zero in on any perceived mockery with a dangerous tenacity, but S____ didn't seem to notice.
- Where are you from man?
Of course our resident Friendly had to go and keep this drunk stranger engaged.
- You from Chicago?
- No. I am not from here.
slight pause.
- I am a human being.
Silence while we all absorbed the implication that being from Chicago might negate one's status as a human being. I let my mind briefly contemplate the thrilling possibility that Chicago might be secretly populated by humanoid androids. S___ seemed to realize that his words had not quite matched his thoughts.
- I am from the Kingdom
pause.
- Do you know where that is? The Kingdom?
Aha! Quiz time! Putting anything remotely resembling a trivia question near me is like dangling a piece of string in front of a cat, I will break any semblance of cool to chase it down.
- Saudi Arabia!
I blurted the answer before anyone else could put forward a guess.
- Yes. That's right.
I relaxed my guard slightly , reveling in that fact that I had just proven to four drunk people on a corner that my geography skills reached at least 6th grade levels.
- Yes yes yes. The Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. But it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter about countries and kingdoms. We're all human.
Well, no one was going to disagree with that.
S___ continued,
- I don't believe in countries. I don't believe in governments, I just believe in
He paused with a slight squint and another sway as he concentrated
- I just believe in two things.
he decided
- Myself!
Declared assertively.
- People!
Then, with finality,
- and Palestine!
- So, three things.
I couldn't control my smartass tendencies.
Undaunted, S___ continued, lowering his voice slightly and speaking quickly in the tones of someone opening up their most intimate thoughts to a new-found friend.
- I believe in Palestine man, I believe in those motherf-kers. What they suffer, what they go through. These guys, these motherf-kers. I would die for Palestine!
We all fidgeted uncomfortably. Political beliefs are highly volatile territory at 4am on a street corner. It's the kind of topic that can go from 'discussion' to 'situation' out of nowhere. Was he going to press us on our views? Although we had been a group, a unit against the Infected, none of us knew what the other thought on the topic of Palestine. Would one person's ignorance, indifference, or divergent opinion on the topic enrage the interloper, or, worse, enrage someone else within the group? We teetered on the edge of disaster.
- Life is bullshit.
was S__'s next, more bitter, proclamation.
Our Friendly quickly jumped in to lighten the mood.
- So do you live in Chicago now man?
- No no.
S__'s brow was still furrowed. He swayed again and dragged thoughtfully on his cigarette.
- No, man. I'm just here to see Yanni.
It's safe to say that this revelation surprised us all.
- Yanni?
- Yeah man. Yanni. He played a concert tonight man.
our new acquaintance was cheerful again.
- Yanni, he's beautiful. His music... Yanni loves everyone!
And that was it. It was time to go, no more talk of beers at someone's place. The night was done and the first rays of pink sun sent Infected and slightly-less-Infected alike hurrying towards home and hotel with brand new thoughts about the significance of Yanni.
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