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A sloshing tankard of combustible epiphany that gave till its explosive end. A memory of a silent old friend, comforting you in their stillness. The truth of whether an idol or anointed apostle lies in the hearts of those their cold shell touched.
Put simply, Bob was an unmarked 20lb propane tank with its few distinguishing features being sparce dents and scrapes. Prior to its destruction it was noted that Bob never succumbed to the elements and showed no signs of erosion or degradation. It was also said that Bob displayed an unnatural endurance as their adventures with greeners often put him in harm’s way but he always seemed to endure more than one would expect of a thin metal shell with combustible liquid.
It’s hard to say just when Bob made their debut but if rumors are to be believed they were first spotted near evergreen’s inception. Nobody had ever seen Bob move but they made their way around just fine regardless, consistently appearing at all the best parties and festivities thrown by the greeners. Those who knew bob spoke of them as a total party animal but also when needed a calm presence, a confidant and a friend. No true words were ever exchanged with bob and those who knew them have come to question their sanity when disclosing their time with them.
It’s too late to classify Bob, but its not too late to say who they were. The following are accounts from friends of Bob.
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It’s funny you know, in the moment it feels things are permanent, affixed and unforgettable but the further we get from the moment the more fantasy takes over, eventually the past becomes a mad blur with our accounts of it being as unreliable as children’s fables. So yeah, I remember Bob but not in any way that feels real. He emanated a kindness that just drew people in, you couldn’t help but like Bob. I recall on a particularly starry night wandering through the dark woods as I made my way to one of the shifty platforms that litter the coast in hopes of falling asleep under the stars. I was on my third year then and under a lot of stress to find my path in life. As I scaled my way up to the platform who should I find but Bob himself resting off to the side, glistening with star light. At that time I had yet to speak to Bob, I was too mystified by the way he was treated by others; at the time I figured it was some pseudo cult. I sat there a while till my lips felt compelled to address him, I simply said “Hey”. What followed was a dissection of my soul as I told him my every fear and burden, he stood still and silent as one would expect of a propane tank yet I had never felt so seen and vulnerable. Under the infinite sky I felt so small but Bob reassured me in his own way that scale is no measure of worth, that regardless of what I did I would be no smaller or less valuable, that I like him was a constant, a star not soon forgotten. I became fast friends with Bob after that night, as much of a friend as you can make of an inanimate object that is. It all seems so looney looking back, but he made me… us happy and I think that is all that really mattered.
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Bob, that’s a name I haven’t heard in a long while. I first met her A dorm, one of my room mates was having a birthday party and somehow Bob wound up there. I don’t remember exactly how but at some point I ended up seated next to Bob on the couch, she was surrounded by all kinds of folks making merry in her presence, addressing her as if she had a mouth to speak or a mind to guide such words. A feeling steamed inside of me that I could not quite identify at first; It was jealousy, pure and raw but I was baffled at myself for being so envious of a propane tank. Had I stooped so low? Had my social ineptitude grown so severe I now bore resentment for the inanimate world. I came to realize Bob made me feel like less than inanimate, to feel so unseen when a thing with no mind or autonomy could garter such adoration twisted my gut and seeded a deep sad rage. I retreated to my room, the distant smiles of the party folk meshed with Bobs exploits having soured my soul. I woke in the morning to find Bob placed afront my door, large plastic beads, and makeup adorning her like some child’s plaything. I am ashamed to admit what I did to Bob that day. My rage had smoldered overnight but her presence upon my door ignited a hatred in me I had long pushed down. Smuggling Bob in my bag I made my way to the cliffside that looked out to the shore. I climbed atop on one of the many rickety platforms for extra height. I unloaded her from my bag ready to toss her and move on, but as I held her over the edge my heart cracked at bearing witness to my insanity. Putting Bob down I looked down the cliff side pondering whether I should be the one to drop. Bob would be missed, I was already forgotten. I playfully dangled a foot off the edge weighing the odds of a quick demise, when I felt myself pulled back. It was a sudden and tight pull, not a physical one but one of the heart, of the being beneath the flesh. Toppling back I landed next to Bob, in my weakness I cradled Bob, wanting someone, anyone to hold, to make me feel real. Bob was warm like flesh, looking back logically it was probably the result of the summer sun but in the moment it felt like Bob was holding me in turn, in her own way. Me and Bob never talked about that day again but going forward I knew I mattered to someone, or I guess something. She was a friend, and that was all I cared about.”
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Its not something I ever felt I could really talk about. Its always guised in lies and half-truths to make it seem more normal. I guess I still haven’t fully processed what happened, once he died everyone stopped talking about him like it was taboo or something. My feelings were left to just fester and weigh down my gut. My burns and scarring a constant reminder of that day. I still leave flowers by the fire pit where he was thrown, there used to be more folks that did but its just me now. I was the closest one to the blast, when I saw him touch the flames my first thought was to pull him out, but I never had a chance. After I came back from the hospital everyone was different, they were acting like Bob was just some fad that went too far, like he never meant anything. Coming back to the fire pit I couldn’t find the remains of him that weren’t lodged and lost in my flesh. I later heard rumors EMS took the pieces for their collection, it would not surprise me if it were true. I am still angry, at the friends that so easily forgot him, and EMS who’s member threw bob into the flames with such glee. I tried pursuing legal action but it was deemed there was insufficient evidence to link anyone to the explosion. The world has kept moving but I have stood still, taking a job at Evergreen so I can try and fail to feel close to him. Bob meant something, how can people forget so swiftly? Why is my pain and mourning dismissed because it stems from a propane tank? I refused the surgery to extract his remains from me to my doctors protests, I fear that they take that, then he will truly be gone. Both of us discarded. Better to die together than alone.
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