Lately it’s been weird for me in the mornings. I’ve never been one to sleep in much but I’ve been getting up fairly early for no reason. The last four days going I’m up either right after or right before Mom leaves for work around quarter after six. I don’t think I’m getting woken up by her and dad moving around the house (Ask anyone that’s had an overnighter with me, I’m a hard person to wake up!) so it’s not a streak of light sleeping. No, it’s an odd phenomenon of just being so AWAKE and, not to mention, totally rested, too. Add having vivid dreams to the list and I’m a sleep psychologist’s field day. None of the said dreams were memorable of in themselves unfortunately, I’ve just had that lingering feeling of leaving something utterly fascinating behind when I first open my eyes to fumble for any sort of time-telling device. I wish I could remember my dreams as well as I used to. Perhaps it’s another avenue I will explore, once I free up my time and mind! (Google “lucid dreaming” if you want to what I’m talking about, cool stuff!)
After determining it was only 6:18 AM (after clearing up only 7 missed Tweets) and hearing mom clang the gate outside, I decided I wasn’t going to continue sleeping nor get up just yet. Rolling on my side, I stared lazy-eyed at the smorgasbord of books beside me. “The Private Life of Plants” (some topic-reading for my Botany class in the fall) laid still unopened on top of “Classical T’ai Chi Sword” (Ha, that’s just for me!) which had my attention for a good hour when I had borrowed it but I know I’ll get back to it once again before my time is up. The movies “Wanted” and “What the Bleep do We Know?” were half-tipping off the side of my bed, hoping I’ll have time to watch them between my almost back-to-back shifts at work. Finally, laying facedown between my ball of rainbow yarn and orange hoodie vest, is a beat-up version of S.E. Hinton’s “Rumble Fish”.
I was lucky to even see the well-loved book in the library’s free shelves as I walked in. The title was starting to wear out on the book spine and it was flanked by gigantic texts about economics and a Victorian romantic novel on either side. But as soon as I blinked and did a double-take, I snatched it. I must have looked like a bit of an idiot, standing partially in the middle of the library entrance way, smiling wide at the treasure I had found. “Rumble Fish” was one of the first (if not the absolute first) books that my grade six English class began doing novel studies on. I held the book, studying the fading and creased cover, gingerly thumbing my way through the yellowed pages, and splotches of memories flooded into my head. Getting put into the “smarter” grade six/seven English class because of marks that didn’t reflect my lack of creative writing, the oddly dim half-English lit, half-Bill Nye The Science Guy science classroom, sitting right up front like the keener I was (and still am!)… Could you blame me for relishing in the moment of nostalgia? Quickly I forced myself back to reality, found a cozy corner in the library and began to read.
Long story short, “Rumble Fish” centers on a fourteen year old boy named Rusty James and his life back in 1950s (??) American suburbia. Rusty James is the characteristic street punk with a soft side for his well-to-do best friend, Steve and idolizes his charismatic but ultimately enigmatic older brother, whom we only know throughout the novel as Motorcycle Boy. I didn’t remember much about reading the book the first time. But I did remember I didn’t get the book at all! All I knew was that I loved the era, something we would harken back to a year later when my grade seven class would read Hinton’s “The Outsiders”. My love of rough'n’tumble gangs and good-natured tough guys kept my interest back then and I remember doing pretty well with my assignments. But once again: I just didn’t get the book. What can I say? I was eleven in class half-filled with kids with two or three years of reading comprehension ahead of me. But now, nine years later, armed with my wisdom, knowledge and experience (or merely my confidence in each) I began to re-read this forgotten bookmark of my past.
I won’t continue to bore you with the details, except that I got halfway through before I headed home and finished the last half this morning when I woke up. And if I only kind of enjoyed it then, I –really- enjoyed it now. Parts of it really made me smile, but in the end the initial thrill of re-reading the book sobered and I closed the book, a tinge saddened but deeply glad I was able to read this gem again. The story reminded me of the value of being part of something bigger than just you, that people change and that no matter how alone you feel, there is always at least one person that will always be in solitude within themselves and no matter how hard you try to understand them, it will just be how they always stay.
I end this post with a thought-challenge, my readers: What book from your past do you really feel shaped your present now or your future to be? “Rumble Fish” signified the real beginning of my own personal creative renaissance, during my sometimes-turbulent years of change and growth when I first moved to Yellowknife. Today, nearly a staggering ten years later, I took on “Rumble Fish” in a re-match against a smarter, stronger and more experienced self and what can I say?
The Rumble Fish still came out on top.
~Vickie
No comments:
Post a Comment