Ollie

(Tuesday) As we crest Fiji, KC and I find that we are not alone. For those of you unversed in Oxy lingo, let me back up. Fiji is a hill at the edge of campus which offers a completely unobstructed 360 view of the surrounding area. The virgin ascent is an Oxy rite of passage. After that you're hooked. Tonight, a wiry man in his late 40s wearing a faded windbreaker and old denim reclines on one of the benches. Now normally, running into a strange man would trigger my fight or flight instincts, but this fellow has absorbed the serenity of his perch. Situated above the smog, with lines of lights trickling down distant roads, and sounds soothing one another, the venue offers a perspective to tame LA's infamous chaos. The sprawl becomes understandable, manageable, peaceful. KC and I plop down on the neighboring bench. The man turns to us, "I'm sorry I'll be getting out of here in a minute." We assure him that his presence is no bother. That's all it takes. Before we know what's hit us we are immersed in a conversation that is equal parts astronomy lesson, life-story sharing, and theological discussion. The man shows us which planets are visible tonight, and explains the mythology behind the Eagle Rock that gives the city its name. He has a childlike quality to him that I can't pinpoint, and it causes me to wonder if his teachings are complete fabrications. It doesn't matter. He goes on to agonize over the state of humanity, or in his words "my brothers and sisters of this planet." I ask him about his God and learn that he is Muslim. He tells us about growing up in Eagle Rock and long summers spent tearing around Oxy. He tells us he used to be a punk who would lie, cheat, and steal. He laughs and so do we. We learn about his childhood mentor, an Oxy baseball legend and coach. He tells us this coach used to say, "Now look, there's only two types of people in this world: those who care, and those who don't. It's that simple." I can tell that this man is the first type. I want to believe that I am also. We all pause to take in the evening and its then that KC and I realize that we've made some hungry mosquitos very happy, and that night is fast approaching. As we prepare to leave, the man says he wants to wait at the top so he can see that we get down OK before he descends the opposite side. We turn to thank him and introduce ourselves. He tells us his name is Ollie. I reach out my hand and he responds with a firm shake. And then we hug. With the precedent set, KC skips the handshake and goes straight for the embrace. We all laugh again. Ollie smiles at us and says, "Thanks. I don't get many hugs these days." My heart breaks. I want to stay up on Fiji and hug Ollie until the end of time, but instead we part ways and walk off into the night.