Corby

I hope he doesn't mind if I use his real name. Its a name few would believe- but I wouldn't be creative enough to make up. Corby Buswell.

You out there, man? I wonder what you're like now. You made an impression, even though I only knew you a few months. We were kids, two kids set adrift one summer in Pinehurst. Remember when we met?

I was out riding my bike- that's what I did, ride all over - and I saw you standing by the road. I don't remember why, but I stopped to ask you where US 1 was. Maybe I was lost, maybe I just wanted to know how far I was from home. Where did the conversation go from there?

All I know is, we started a friendship somehow. When I said we were set adrift, there was more to it than a break from school. Neither of us was from around there. We both had felt the rejection of the southern small-town kids of us northern city kids. You were a lively sort. I remember your big grin, your freckles. Your goofy postcards when you went on a trip to Connecticut.

You sent me a blank card- a defective one that had a caption and all, but was brown instead of white, and no picture. You said "Bet you don't have one like this in your collection!" You could have meant yourself. You were a rare sort...

We ran off through the pines one night, when we were both due for dinner. Why did we do that? Scared our parents shitless. Your mom sent the cops out after us.

Later, when we decided running away wasn't such a hot idea, we saw your mom out cruising along the highway. We were up on a hill overhead. She wasn't mad- just relieved. Same with my folks. They cried. Hey, we weren't gone that long. Were we that durn reliable that we set off a panic in a couple of hours?

I've used you as a character in stories set elsewhere, like in Vegas, where you lived in a wealthy apartment complex, and got to know a nice brown-skinned boy from the trailer park, until your Mom forbade it. It was you; maybe not your Mom.

Reality was, you moved to Salt Lake. I hope you weren't an outsider there, too. Were you Mormon? Did you keep that grin, that easy way about you, that hearty laugh?

A letter I got in response to the above:
I was looking up names on the
internet of people I went to high school with and I found your
webpage about Corby Buswell. It had to have been referring
to my old freind as there could'nt have ever been more than
one person in Salt Lake (or anywhere else, probably) with
that name. You can imagine my surprise when I found your
website. Well, Corby never became Mormon, as we both
attended Judge Memorial Catholic High School. He had a really
wild sense of humor, and I was often the target, but
eventually we became good friends. Hanging out with Corby
definitely brightened up my high school life. Many evenings
were spent at his house drinking Seagrams 7 and watching old
"Outer Limits" reruns, (his family actually had CABLE TV !
a rare thing in those days), or riding around in his prized
possession, a Jeep CJ5 he named "Eugene" after the "Popeye"
character. After we graduated in 1975. I moved to California
and we lost touch. Corby was always interested in boats and
sailing, and I found his name on a Port of Portland
(Oregon) website, if you want to try to look him up. If you
find him, please tell him Paul from high school says hello, and
give him my e-mail address.

Well, I did call him up, and I was glad I did. we had a fine
time reminiscing- we each remembered things the other had
forgotten.


go to Tom's home page
go to Cricket
Index to other writing


Sign Guestbook View Guestbook
Feel free to e-mail me:
© 1998-2001 trcoleman.geo@yahoo.com

1