Annette (Part 2)
One might think that with the advent of the Internet and email, Annette and I would have kept in closer touch. That didn't turn out to be true.
She resurfaced in 2009 or 10 when I received a friend request from her on Facebook. I accepted. Her profile indicated she had only one other friend, a Boston U alumni, and that she now lived in Las Vegas. Her profile pic was a model shot that probably wasn't recent. There were no posts by her.
Very odd, I thought. I messaged her and didn't hear back.
I no longer recall what brought about the resumption of our communication (possibly it was because of publicity about one of my books that reached her?), but Annette emailed me in 2012 or 13. It was great to hear from her and I told her I was moving to Astoria and she said how exciting that all sounded. She claimed she was working on various media-related projects, including, I think, a book or blog. Her writing seemed a bit off to me, but I didn't ask anything about the state of her mental health.
My last communication with Annette was in 2013.
In the ensuing years, I sent her messages via Facebook and email. Nothing. Sometimes I googled her and learned she had launched some new Internet-related venture only to see it die out after one or two posts/installments. What she was posting didn't make a lot of sense.
During one of my searches, I cam across a post on some platform by Annette's older brother, who was a visual artist or filmmaker who was also living in Las Vegas. He made a reference to Annette to being homeless and posted a picture of her. She wore her hair in long dread locks and had a marked weathering about the face, but I still saw the old Annette in her eyes and smile.
I immediately contacted Annette's brother through his platform, asking for information about her, and how I could reach out. He replied with a curt message that she was homeless in Las Vegas, a schizophrenic who refused housing/shelter and that he had no way of contacting her. That struck me as odd since he had just posted about her but I didn't press it.
For the next two years on an intermittent basis, I tried calling various Las Vegas phone numbers that the internet provided for Annette. Nothing. I mailed several post cards and letters to her last listed address in Las Vegas. I sent a letter to her mother's address in West Linn. Noting and more nothing.
Several months ago, I did another google search and something new about Annette came up: someone who claimed to be Annette's sister-in-law had posted a video on YouTube of Annette walking toward the camera and the person doing the filming narrated Annette's approach. When Annette appeared, speaking gibberish, I could not believe what I saw. Her physical appearance was shattered. Shaved head. Destroyed face. Strange eyes. Emaciated. She looked exactly like the destroyed 40-70-year old homeless women I've seen all over Oregon in recent years.
I started crying. I couldn't bear to watch the video again. It had three views. I thought about commenting, but refrained because I didn't know what to say.
What was there to do? I stood up from the computer, walked out of my studio, and into the kitchen. I poured myself a glass of red wine and went out to the back yard to sit on the lawn and think about my long gone friend who once had all the promise in the world and was now homeless and dying on the streets.