Where are you Paul?

I've been thinking a lot about my high school days recently. Thanks to facebook.com I have been messaging with people that I hadn't had contact with in almost two decades. I think most people would find that I haven't changed much in two decades in term of personality- maybe a little more outgoing and confident, but basically I'm the same guy. In high school, like today, I didn't really fit into any one group, but was comfortable in many groups. I had friends in student government, amongst the soon to be drop outs, the chess club, the drama department, the dungeonmasters, the cholos, etc.

This brings me to my friend "Paul." Where I was generally popular in the sense that I had a couple dozen or so friends, my friend Paul had no one but me that he really socialized with. He was an outcast from even the outcasts. As a Jehovah's Witness he would try to recruit his fellow high school students, without much luck. In fact, this is probably how we met.

I came from a family background that was generally skeptical of anything "too religious"- so I wasn't very open to the notions from the JW, but I felt bad that Paul seemed to have so little happiness in his life and tried to help him be happier. To a naive high school version of me that meant making him more like me!

The only problem was that you really had to be me to get away with...well...being me. For instance, though I fancied myself to be a good dresser, my wardrobe in high school extended to sweats and superman shirts, with an occasional airplane shirt thrown in. I combed my hair when I felt like it and actually sported an afro for a few months. (Yes, I didn't really start dating until college!) But, I difficult to make fun of for my clothes because 1) I really like those airplane shirts, 2) I didn't really care what people thought, 3) I was ready with a comeback to any jokes and 4) if someone "got me" with a wisecrack, I wash ready and willing to laugh at myself. Not so for Paul! Even with an "improved" wardrobe, he had trouble fitting in.

I took Paul once to a get together that I'd organized for about 10 of my buddies- a typical guys night included playing pool and a number of stupid games that we organized- like "Dofus on the pool table." Dofus involved one of us getting up on the pool table and telling jokes or doing funny things until he made the new "Dofus" laugh. Paul refused to play along with any of the games and somewhere around the time that he informed us that we would go to hell for drinking alcohol, my friends Frankie and John jumped him! This was actually something of a initiation- as dumb high school guys, we were constantly hitting and fighting with each other. We never really hurt each other, but were very prone to rough housing. Unfortunately, Paul was unused to rough housing. He went rigid with fear to the point where he didn't try to defend himself and I had to pull the guys off of him.

Paul left shortly after that and I never tried to introduce him to my friends again. I decided to give up trying to "help" him and just remained his friend. We kept touch for years after high school- going to a movie, talking religion- until one day he just disappeared. One day, I cam back from school break to find that there was no one at his apartment complex.

I've often wondered since then what became of him. I hope that he found a place where he felt free to be Paul.