Chasing the Shasta Girl

I now officially have followers.  Not the web-hits kind, but the stalking-you-up-close kind.

Ever since this year started, this girl has been showing up almost everywhere I go in public.  Sometimes it’s subtle – she’ll be walking across the street when I get off the bus.  Sometimes she’s on the bus.  Sometimes she’s at the table next to me at Pizzicato. Sometimes, like yesterday, she was sitting a few seats behind me at the movies.

She’s tall, blond, and looks like an elf out of LOTR or something.  She wears lots of rainbow colors and handmade hats, and seems like she loves trees and vegetables and piles of drugs, like someone lost at the Oregon Country Fair in Eugene.  She steals glances at me, like she wants to come over and whisper something in my ear. In short, she’s pretty normal, except for the showing up every fucking where.

TokiDoki tried to convince me from her all-seeing-eye-tower in Tokyo that this was a good thing.  “Talk to her, be her friend!” So, yesterday, after the movies, we hatched an elaborate plan to find her.  Twitter was involved, as was the kind of stake out where the bait (me) is dangled in front of the sniper (her), only to be pulled away at the last second.  I’m always game for elaborate fanciful larks and hoots, especially those that involve tweets.  So I sat at Pioneer Square, dangled my feet in the shark tank, and waited.  Like, 20 minutes or something.

Yes, she did show up.  Yes, she actually acknowledged my existence, from a far.  That part was good.

Then she ran away down the street, and soon as I started to walk over to her.

Then she dropped a bag, with a metal box inside – the kind you use at bake sales to store money.

I dived in the tank and ran after her, with the bag and the box, trying to give it back. Maybe she dropped it and didn’t know (ummmm… yeah).  Maybe she was trying to give it to me super shy like (TokiDoki’s tweeted theory).  I didn’t really care, I just wanted to LARP and pretend it was important, that she was very important and I was super important, so I ran down the street after her.

I caught up over by the Willamette – the Riverfront Park with all of the joggers and bikers.  She was sitting at one of the benches, staring at the river, not even noting my presence until I sat down and put the bag/box down inbetween us.

Then…. then…. I wish I had a tape recorder, or an AL Narrative Engine running.  She started to speak to me, but it was like an intense church organ crossed with the quietest mouse – intensely meek.  She smiled that creepy smile, brushed aside her long, straight hair, and gave me a little whisper-yelled speech.  Kinda like this:

Oh. I SEE you found THE BOX.” Smile! “I’ve been TRYING to give it to YOU for weeksYou’re REALLY hard to track DOWN.” Laugh! “My NAME is aurora” (she said it like rainbows were shooting out of her mouth). “I’m from MOUNT SHASTA.

I was ready to leave, to run away quickly, but she seemed so entertaining and ready to burst into dead butterflies, like Gloomy Bear on a really up day.  So I let her continue for a few:

MIRANDA.” Stare! “You weren’t SUPPOSED to see ME so soon.” Frown! “NOW that we’ve MET, I only have a SHORT time.” Touching the box! “This IS for YOU, but you can’t OPEN it yet.” Grin!

OK, I was already up and leaving – game over!  I like creepy cute girls, and if they want to obsess over me all normal like, then that’s fine.  I don’t, however, have tolerance for creepy cute girls who want to give me metal cash boxes by force.

You can’t LEAVE.” Pointing! “YOU are the chosen LIGHT.

I was totally jogging backwards at this point, waiving bye bye.  She slumped down on the bench – it was like the last rainbow had left her body.

“It was nice meeting you, OK?  I’m definitely leaving now, alright?”

Then I walked away properly forwards, imagining that right that instant she was getting up off the bench, picking up the box, and spinning, ready to hammer throw it at me.  It felt like her eyes had eyes, and so forth in telescoping stare-spikes that were cutting through the back of my skull.  So I turned around, one last time.

She was gone.  The box wasn’t.

TokiDoki thought I should take it.  I wasn’t down for that, but a part of me was still LARPing, all wearing the cool imaginary armor, seeking the grail.  For a second, as I walked away, I wanted to run back and grab it.  While my mind contemplated further adventures, some guy on a bike rode up, picked up the box, and took off for the Morrison Bridge.  Gone!

Honestly, I can’t stop thinking about her, Aurora the Shasta Girl. Was it some sort of elaborate put on?  Was she crazy, like Mt. Shasta hollow earth crazy? Maybe she just had the hots for me, and that was her way of stalk-flirting.  I don’t know, but I kinda want to know.

It’s like I was saying before, no one had ever really expressed any interest in me before, and now I have at least two people messing up my mind with attention.  Sure, some of it’s the great kind, and some of it’s the Aurora kind.  Eh, I guess choosers can’t beg for mercy, right?

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