five thousand shades of blue
Monday, July 23, 2001
I looked, disbelieving, at the flyer that Andra held.
Caitlin. I knew those eyes. I had seen her. She had been in the café, her grubby, dimpled, smiling face peeking out from beneath the knit cap even on that very warm morning, her skirt almost impossibly long. She was travelling, she said; she was trying to get by and would I be kind enough to give her some coffee? Normally my cynical nature would not have been moved for a street urchin trying to bum a cup of coffee, but there was something charming -- yet almost lost -- about her that forced me to remind myself how giving her a cup of coffee would do wonderful things for my karma (and besides, I've had moments where I've spilled out more than I gave to her). We chatted for a little bit; I was treated again to those cavernous dimples and amazing smile, and I wished her well on her travels. She wished me well, too.
She was a missing person. Her mother looked to me, asked me how long ago it had been. A few weeks, I said. Mom looked kind of glum, but unsurprised. Mom then asked me what she'd been wearing, and I told her. She nodded. Yes, that sounds like Caitlin. I told her that she'd gotten some coffee, and Mom smiled. Yes, that's Caitlin; been drinking coffee since she was ten.
A lot of people in Eugene had apparently seen Caitlin. I wish I could remember where she said she'd been heading. I can't quite recall if it was south (towards southern Oregon) or north up to Seattle or Olympia. I felt horrible for not being able to tell her more.
Caitlin, I hope you know how much you are missed, and that you find your way back to those who love you.
is
this just not enough…?
