Soul Mosaic

The body

It hadn’t been easy making a transition to being more proactive about my life, but little by little, I was gaining. It wasn’t all smooth-going, though, and life presented reminders of that.

As if I could forget that the world “out there” wasn’t always safe, as Dad had said, there was the body off the parking lot of our campus. A young local woman, walking home alone one night after her shift at a nearby factory. A “friendly” co-worker offered her a ride, then made it clear what he wanted. She refused. He killed her and dumped her body in the grass right off the parking lot. I had been out that evening and possibly even drove by that lot on my way home, about the same time he was doing that. Never get too comfortable with that outside world.

We can’t be friends anymore

On more mundane things, there were the challenges of friendships and dating. One of my few best friends in life, all through high school, still remained in touch with me. I deeply treasured that. We met one weekend to go skiing at a local slope. It was a disaster in the sense that despite my best efforts, I really couldn’t ski. I’d had no money for lessons, and unlike her, no older siblings to teach me. So when I careened down the slope, I was both a hazard and an embarrassment to her. Her only comment was that I was either the bravest person she’d ever known or the craziest. Based on her next visit to me at my campus cocoon, I suspect she felt the latter, especially since she would never be “free” to go skiing with me again.

Some time after that, she called to say she wanted to visit me at the Branch. I was excited to see her and to show off the campus buildings, which she’d never seen. She was attending a private art university across the state, so this was a little below her style. When she came in, I greeted her warmly. I was going to show her around, but she wanted to get right to the point, so we sat on a side table. Her point was that we could no longer continue our friendship. It just wasn’t going to work. She was dating a judge’s son, going to her art college, and moving in much different circles — translated, I think, as moving faster socially in circles that were way above my league. We no longer had anything in common, so we needed to go our separate ways.

Was ist das licht?

It was the end of my senior year, and the German teacher required that we write an essay completely “auf Deutsch.” (in German) The prompt she gave us was:

Was ist das light… that is: What is the “light”?

I can’t remember anyone else’s approach, but this was mine:

It was the moment of truth, the last test of his courage. Others had been there before him who had gone into the chamber. But one won’t learn anything from these people, as they don’t want to part with their knowledge.  Perhaps they were driven crazy by this phenomenon, “light.”

Since the creation of the chamber, “Sunlight,” the only people who had entered this space were the “avant-garde,” or the aristocrats, who were in search of solitude.*

Should he dare to risk his cold, blind world of darkness for the foreign world of light?

And there was the door handle. Through it coursed 1300 volts of electricity, except for 5 minutes each day. However, no one other than the scientists, with all their calculations, could surmise the correct 5 minutes. If he touched the handle at the wrong time, it would mean instant death. Why would he do this? What could he hope to accomplish? What was in this chamber? Why was it chosen?

”Inappropriate questions,” he thought. Others had gotten into the chamber, and so would he, regardless of if he must risk his mental stability, and would be driven crazy.

Debbie Phillip

1973 – Senior year, Torrington High School

German III homework; Writing prompt: What is the light?

The defiant spark

When I read this now, I am just blown away. All my adult life, I wrote off that teen version of myself as a loser. Oh my God, what an error I made in judging her so.