Stories – Page 5 – Irene North

Reflections on World AIDS Day

On 2 December, 2018

“He was a nice man. He didn’t deserve to go that way.” The words had a tinge of sadness attached to them as my mother said them matter-of-factly while we sat waiting for the light to turn green at the intersection of East Main Street and Irwin Avenue.

When the light changed, she gently pushed the gas pedal toward the floor and we continued on our way. It was 1986. Not many people understood HIV/AIDS. There were rumors, confusion, and plenty of hatred. My mother’s words were twinged with a sense of hopelessness. At the time, a diagnosis of HIV/AIDS was a death sentence. This man she knew in high school was already dead. There was nothing she could do.

I can’t drive sixty-five

By Irene

On 1 December, 2018

In Stories

Almost everything I learned about driving, I learned by observing my grandmother, Lorraine. I typically hold the steering wheel as she did, I swear and curse people as I go about my journey, I love manual cars, and I learned the usefulness of a lead foot. Those skills have all been useful and put into practice while living in western Nebraska.

When Walter Mitty was my Hero

By Irene

On 20 October, 2018

In Stories

Mr. Rosen taught 11th grade English, but his class was about so much more than grammar, spelling, and punctuation. We read Alive By Piers Paul Read and learned to look at the world differently rather than being repulsed by people who had to make impossible decisions. He read, then interpreted, Shakespeare – Macbeth to be exact – into his own brand of humorous English. He was a DJ on WPDH during the Christmas holidays. He encouraged us to use our imaginations. Most importantly, he introduced us to Walter Mitty.

Merde de chien

By Irene

On 16 September, 2018

In Stories

Middletown, New York is a city with plenty of parks and designated play areas among the shopping centers, supermarkets, and concrete jungle, but, if you are a kid, there are also plenty of wooded areas to explore and step away from the trappings of city life.

Be mindful of the quiet kid

By Irene

On 3 September, 2018

In Stories

“I gave you a B+ in my class instead of an A because I wanted you to participate more,” my poetry professor said. “You’re really good and have great insights, but you need to talk more.”

It made me angry. I was a junior in college and had heard similar comments from teachers and professors since the first day I stepped into kindergarten. I thought college professors were supposed to be enlightened and understanding of the different ways kids learn. I was wrong.

Who needs deodorant anyway?

By Irene

On 23 July, 2018

In Stories

Sunset, somewhere between Denver and Scottsbluff.

After stuffing ourselves on the free dinner buffet, Paul and I returned to our room. We were tired. We wanted to go home. We needed to get ready for the next day, just in case our flight was canceled again.

Since I wasn’t going to be eating again tonight, I went into the hotel bathroom to brush my teeth. “Damn it,” I yelled. “I don’t have any toothpaste.” That audible thought was quickly followed by another. I didn’t have any deodorant left either.

I had carefully planned my trip, as I do all trips, so that I don’t have to carry toothpaste or deodorant back home with me. That least space for more chocolate, which is more important. Fortunately, the hotel had free toothbrushes and toothpaste. They did not have deodorant.

“It’s okay,” I thought to myself. “I’ll just be sitting on a plane for most of the next day. What could go wrong?”

What it’s like inside my brain

By Irene

On 15 July, 2018

In Stories

Not our plane, but another United plane being pulled somewhere. It’s probably broken, too.

Paul and I arrived at the Hong Kong airport three hours ahead of time for our flight home. We waited forty-five minutes for the United check-in desk to open to get our boarding passes. For whatever reason, the self-serve kiosks were not working. The last fifteen minutes of our wait I tried to calm myself.

One by one, United employees came out to their desks, but didn’t open. Logically, I know there is plenty of time to get the passes, pass through security and get to our gate, but my heart rate is already increasing. I bow my head and stare at my shoes, tracing the lines that make up the shoe’s design. I close my eyes and take several deep breaths to calm myself.

The deep breaths don’t really calm me. They are a distraction to keep me from screaming. I really only start to feel better when Paul says, “Okay, now I’m starting to get annoyed.”

Many come for the gambling. We came for the history.

By Irene

On 26 June, 2018

In Stories

Part of the Macau skyline.

The most densely populated area in the world also wagers more dollars in a single year than all of Las Vegas. Casinos are everywhere. It is the pre-eminent gambling capital of the world. We came for the history.

Until 1999, Macau was a Portuguese colony. Portuguese traders began settling in Macau in the 1550s. It eventually became a colony before it was transferred back to China on 20 December 1999.

Most people who come here visit to try their hand with lady luck. We came for the scenery.

A lively and diverse affair

By Irene

On 21 June, 2018

In Stories

The entrance to the Temple Street Market.

The Temple Street Market in Kowloon is a few subway stops away from our hotel, but it is not a place where I would normally go. It is one of the busiest flea markets around.

A place for quiet and thoughtful contemplation

By Irene

On 20 June, 2018

In Stories

A candid shot of a dad walking with his daughter in Kowloon Park, Hong Kong. She kept trying to dance away from him, so he had to take her hand and play along.

One of the most profound things I have ever heard has no words. It is the father holding his daughter’s hand while walking through Kowloon Park. It is the elderly husband and wife walking arm-in-arm along the promenade. It is the friend pushing his friend in wheelchair. It is the mother and father playing a silly, made up game with their child on the MTR. It is the man who gives the homeless man four takeaway packages outside the 7-Eleven. It is the mother holding her son’s hand to help him up the stairs to Big Buddha. It is the sound of love and it is there if you take the time to look..

Writings

Category: Stories Page 5 of 7

Reflections on World AIDS Day

I can’t drive sixty-five

When Walter Mitty was my Hero

Merde de chien

Be mindful of the quiet kid

Who needs deodorant anyway?

What it’s like inside my brain

Many come for the gambling. We came for the history.

A lively and diverse affair

A place for quiet and thoughtful contemplation