Go!

I’m taking a leak alongside a former classmate. A minute or so goes by, and I say to him, “You remember when this took about 30 seconds?”

“No shit,” he says.

We bust out in some laughter. My piss takes a break, his too maybe. We idle there at the urinal, not pissing, just bullshitting about something. We know than to zip it back up just yet. As expected, another predictable urge strikes, and out dribbles the rest. Now we’re done.

At the sink, I finally look at his name tag. Kevin. It’s very possible that thirty five years ago, Kevin and I sat in a class together, played intramurals, swilled in the dorms, but for the life of me I don’t remember Kevin. It doesn’t matter. We’re washing our hands, and laughing our asses off in the can about our collapsing, more like enlarging, prostates, and that’s all that matters right now.

It was my first and maybe even my last college reunion. It took me thirty five years to tell myself, Fuck it, go! Go have a piss and unexpected laugh with classmate Kevin.

Go find out who among us checked out way too young. Rest in peace, Anthony, roomie and brother in hoops. I remember you banging your girlfriend the next room over. She was your girl to the very end, too, I would learn.

Go swill.

Go laugh.

Go!

Go get right with a dear homie you drifted from.

Go be with your freshmen dorm mates. Wouldn’t you know it, not a single one of these sons of bitches are in medicine. For me to be able to ask about this ulnar nerve. Apparently, I tore mine, ripped it, something. Now, it’s getting worse. It cuts into my dance moves. I can’t do the sprinkler with my left arm anymore. It’s gimpy. Plus I have trouble bringing a cup up to my mouth without shaking a little. I need answers, stat. It’s nagging at me. I want to ask an expert among the twenty or so in our group. A four-minute piss with Kevin is one thing. Parkinson’s–that’s a game changer. I’m sure as fuck not ready for Parkinson’s.

But no, these fuckers in my group had to crush it in law and in wealth management and in accounting and in real estate. Not a single doctor in the house.

And I mean crushed it.

Fuck it, go!

Go look for her. My one. My first one.

I was told early in the night by one of the lovely reunion coordinators that about three hundred fifty of the approximately two thousand of us had also told themselves, fuck it, go! And did. What were the chances?

My mother would pass my sophomore year. I didn’t want to go back to college, or so the family story went. I fought against going back, or so the family story went. I went back. And she was there to catch me.

Midway through the class party held in a building that wasn’t there thirty five years ago, I’m heading to or from the same can when I’m intercepted by Danny. He tugs at my blazer. “Mother fucker, I swear you look the same,” I say.

“I’m Asian,” he tells me.

It’s exactly what I was thinking.

Danny was a good egg. Got more ass than a toilet seat, and they were all tens, I swear. Always wore a bright smile and attitude on his handsome mug. But the best part about Danny at least at this part of the night–he was in the same circle or group as she was. He’s placed there there to put my evening’s curiosity to rest, I just know it. Not five minutes in, he does it, too. He brings her up, “I talk to D,” he says.

Up the jowls and cheeks goes a rush of blood. I could play it cool–really, how is she?–but no. “No shit, is she here?” I say.

But Danny gets it. He wouldn’t have brought her up if he hadn’t seen it thirty five years ago or on this night, that beggarly look on my face summoning him to action.

She wasn’t “here.” Home in Tennessee with her loving husband and her twins, perhaps. Happy, I hope. I mean that, too.

Seriously, I mean it. Besides, it’s not like that anymore, I swear. I don’t know what it is like, but I know it’s not like that anymore. A hug. That’s all it would have been A hug after thirty five years is completely inbounds.

And maybe just one sorry.

“Tell her I say hi, will you?”

“I will, Bro.” Danny, the smart fucker, he gets it.

My brain’s belly is full. That’s my cue to return to the warm comfort zone of my freshman dorm posse, but not before another piss. I don’t see Kevin this time. We had joked on the way out. See you in about fifteen minutes, he would say.

“Right?” I say.

I went back. Damn, did I go back.

-tmc