Don’t you forget about me
“I could KILL you right now!” I shouted incredulously over the music as I swiveled off my red barstool and beelined for the bathroom.
Jade’s liquored up confession torpedoed my broken heart into my spine. My handsome yet emotionally stunted ex-boyfriend Tommy had been flirting with my drop dead gorgeous yet commitment phobic best friend Jade for several weeks after our messy breakup.
As I dramatically yanked open the thick bathroom door, I narrowly missed cracking my skull in the process. I stumbled into the bathroom, turned the lock, and exhaled. The three PBR Tallboys and two Jaeger shots had finally hijacked my bloodstream, and now my best friend had hijacked my trust. I rested my perspiring forehead against the cool steel of the vibrating door and listened to Billy Idol wail.
In the midnight hour
She cried more, more, more!
With a rebel yell
More, more, more!
It was 80’s Night at The Model – a cherished gritty dive bar that had survived gentrification like a cockroach in the increasingly sanitized Boston nightlife scene. Jade and I had been established regulars at The Model for years. All the bartenders were friends and we playfully flirted with the door guys, Tony and Jimbo. Tonight, the place was crammed with college kids, middle aged punks, metalheads and hipsters. And at the bar, bathed in purple light and nursing a gin and tonic, waited my bewildered friend.
After Jade had let it slip, she anxiously flipped her long blonde hair behind her, revealing an oversized silver owl earring with sparkling emerald eyes. Jade had a thing for owls. “We’re both able to see beyond the illusions in the world,” she cryptically explained to me once.
“Did you flirt back?” I had shouted over the throbbing bass.
She didn’t say yes. But she also didn’t say no. She shrugged and smiled. That captivating smile seemed to get her out of – and sometimes into – all sorts of trouble. A typical Jade response to life’s complications. Jade’s playful reaction to my serious question sent me reeling and after I threatened to kill her, I needed to recollect myself in the grimy bathroom.
A fist battered the door urgently. One of the few downsides of The Model (some would argue part of its charm) was that it only had one bathroom with one toilet. When cokeheads needed a line, or a gaggle of girls needed to gossip, or the heat of the moment captured two lovebirds, you could forget about using the bathroom for its intended purpose. Most people had no choice but to run outside behind the bar and piss between the garbage dumpsters. I contemplated slinking through the crowd and exiting The Model undetected by Jade. My thoughts had spiraled, and I was growing more paranoid by the minute imagining Tommy and Jade’s whirlwind romance blossoming behind my back.
Sometimes I feel I’ve got to
Run away
I’ve got to
Get away
No shit! I muttered to myself.
The fists had multiplied and were pounding in time with the iconic Tainted Love riff. I stood up, shook out my arms and glanced behind the toilet to check if I’d dropped anything. I usually didn’t notice the writing on the bathroom walls because they were constantly being updated and I was usually too drunk to read them, anyway. But this was impossible to miss. The wall just above the toilet had been swiped with white paint. Within the swath was beautiful black cursive writing:
The mystery of life isn’t a problem to solve
but a reality to experience.
“PEARL! Open up! Did you pull a Mario and disappear into the sewage system or what?!”
It was Jade. I fumed. My alcohol-infused brain hadn’t decided how to deal with the cards she’d dealt me. I spun around and violently pushed open the old bathroom door with such force that a big fat screw fell from the top hinge and landed between us. We looked at each other aghast, and then our eyes lit up with unbridled delight. We both knew what we had to do.
She grabbed my shoulders and joyously shouted, “SCREWS FALL OUT ALL THE TIME...” to which I excitedly finished, “…THE WORLD’S AN IMPERFECT PLACE!” We howled with laughter while a group of annoyed punk girls in bondage belts jangled their way past us and into the bathroom.
It was one of our favorite quotes from The Breakfast Club. I was so impressed by the screw’s perfectly relevant cameo appearance during 80’s Night that I had temporarily suspended my annoyance towards Jade.
“I’m sorry,” she shouted.
“Me too. Let’s talk about it over brunch and mimosas tomorrow.”
“Deal!”
We hugged and then she leaned over the DJ booth and yelled, “Frankie my dear, play Girls Just Wanna Have Fun! LADIES, LET ME SEE YOU MOVE!” I twirled, shimmied, and sweat my emotions out onto the dancefloor with Jade until the bell clanged for last call.
_____________________________________________________________________
As The Model’s drunken visitors spilled out onto North Beacon St., Jade and I walked down the adjacent street to the bar and ordered an Uber away from the crowds.
“Pearl, Tommy doesn’t know….he doesn’t know...” She was slurring her words.
“He doesn’t know a lot of things. Tell me something I don’t know, Jade.”
She broke into a giggle. “He doesn’t know what a gem you are!”
“It’s true, he doesn’t! Because I’m a pearl! And a pearl is just an irritant covered in mollusk SECRETION!”
Jade let out belly laugh and plonked herself on the gentle grassy slope of someone’s front yard. Her blonde hair fanned out behind her and I noticed one of her owl earrings was missing.
“Hey, one of your ear owls flew away,” I said as I pulled her up from the ground.
She smiled unconcernedly. “Pity! But he must have flown away for a reason. Do you know how jade is made?” She extended her arm and swung it slowly as she looked out into the distance and whispered, “Metamorphosis.”
“I believe you mean ‘metamorphism,’ but who even knows the difference between metamorphosis and metamorphism. Except me. And geologists. And biologists. We know. But who cares about us? Bunch of nerds.” I laughed as Jade playfully poked me.
“I prefer saying metamorphosis. Sounds more poetic,” she reasoned.
A black Toyota Corolla inched down the street and I checked the app to verify the license plate and driver, Scott. We crawled into the backseat and the unmistakable stink of cheap vodka with notes of ocean breeze air freshener crept into my nostrils. I jokingly asked Scott, “Hey man, did you get drunk at The Model tonight, too?” The young man looked at me in the rear-view mirror and spoke very quickly.
“No, no, the passengers just before you were Russian. They spilled their vodka all over the car and I haven’t had time to clean it up yet. Only thing I could do was spray air freshener. I sincerely apologize. We can keep the windows open. It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?”
Jade piped up. “It is a beautiful night and we will accept this Uber booze cruise on one condition: You hand me use that aux cord so we can listen to my tunes.”
Scott turned and eagerly handed Jade the aux cord, his hands shaking slightly. I thought I smelled vodka on his breath but drove the thought away. He’d already told us what had happened, and his explanation was perfectly believable – there were plenty of Russians in the neighborhood. Jade was already scrolling madly through her playlists.
“Pearl, it’s so wild about that door screw. I still can’t get over that. We should watch The Breakfast Club when we get back to the apartment. Do we still have some Red Stripes in the fridge?”
“Yep, four left.”
“Perfect! And speaking of The Breakfast Club, found the soundtrack - turn it up, Scott!”
Don’t You (Forget About Me) by Simple Minds exploded through the speakers and Jade and I sang in unison.
Won’t you come see about me?
I’ll be alone, dancing you know it baby
And that was the last time I ever saw Jade.
_____________________________________________________________________
When I gained consciousness, I experienced the most horrible hangover of my life. My right arm felt cemented across my stomach. I couldn’t move my head and my chest achingly throbbed with every inhalation. I opened my eyes and quickly comprehended this wasn’t a hangover. Tubes and needles had burrowed into my flesh and machines beeped softly. I felt someone clasp my left hand. It was my mother, and she was dabbing her reddened eyes with a tissue.
“Mom….what happened?” I squeaked out.
Scott had been drunk. He crashed into a tree speeding down Commonwealth Ave and died on impact. I had broken my arm, 3 ribs, and fractured my neck. “It’s a miracle you’re alive, baby.” One of my mother’s tears splashed between my eyes as she carefully leaned over to kiss my bruised forehead.
“And Jade? How is she?” I whispered with equal measure hope and dread.
She exhaled deeply. “Jade sustained a massive brain injury and died this morning at St. Elizabeth’s Hospital.”
My mother began sobbing and squeezed my hand. I stared up at the ceiling and my vision blurred as tears streamed into my neck brace. I felt as if an anvil had been dropped on my broken body. Jade can’t be gone. My best friend since childhood can’t be “gone.” It should’ve been me. I thought the guy had been drinking but I ignored my gut. I’m responsible for all of this. Jade can’t be dead. This can’t be real. I’ll wake up from this, right? Oh Jade, I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault…you can’t be gone, you just can’t ….
_____________________________________________________________________
I was still hospitalized when they held Jade’s funeral. I never had the chance to say a proper goodbye.
After being released from the hospital, I returned to the apartment I shared with Jade and I barely left it for 3 weeks. Time drifted on without me as I filled the endless hours with sobbing fits and marathon sleeping sessions aided by powerful sleeping pills. Family and friends often came by for support, but I was consumed with grief and racked with immense guilt. Being surrounded by Jade’s possessions was both comforting and excruciating. I sometimes thought I saw her breeze through the hallway or dancing in the kitchen and for that split second, I genuinely believed she was there.
I awoke one August morning feeling oddly refreshed, as if I’d slept a thousand years. I hadn’t felt so lucid in months, and it was a beautiful sunny day. I made myself a coffee and launched Spotify on the television, randomly choosing a Daily Mix playlist. I sat outside on the back porch and bathed in sunlight while listening to music. I closed my eyes and suddenly heard something crash through the trees in the back of the yard. Thinking perhaps baby squirrels fell out of their nest, I went to investigate. I looked up and saw a great horned owl peering down at me with brilliant yellow eyes. I had never seen one during the day before, and we stared at each other for several long seconds while it cocked its head and hooted at me.
“What are you doing there, owl? I thought you liked to hang out in dark places?”
I turned back towards the porch to grab my phone to take a photo, when I heard something hit the ground with a soft thud. When I walked back to the tree, I froze. It was one of Jade’s owl earrings that had gone missing the night of the accident. The owl hooted with excitement as I slowly picked the earring up and stared at it in absolute disbelief. I returned my sights to the owl, who vigorously bobbed its head up and down. It danced happily along the branch and hooted at me several times before it flew away.
My knees weak and barely breathing, I clumsily ran back to the porch to call my mother, and saw a calendar notification pop up on my phone.
Today: August 22nd - Jade’s birthday.
No sooner than I realized the date, Simple Minds came through the television speakers.
Don’t you forget about me
I’ll be alone, dancing you know it baby
My mind flashed back to the quote I saw in The Model bathroom that tragic night. The mystery of life isn’t a problem to solve but a reality to experience. I also recalled Jade erroneously telling me how jade was made – by “metamorphosis.”
I clutched the owl earring and realized she hadn’t been wrong after all. I knew within every fiber of my being that I still had my friend in this world, and that she had forgiven me. And the tears that fell were anything but sorrowful.