John was a pretty happy-go-lucky kid. He liked everyone, everyone liked him, and he didn't have a care in the world, until he obtained the plutonium to power the flux capacitor on his pedal car. After that, he started noticing little things. Several of his classmates began wearing expensive clothes. The teenagers at McDonalds had been replaced by middle-aged men with Chinese accents. Italian sedans with tinted windows parked outside the gates of St. Vincent's. And he noticed the presence of a tall woman wherever he went. It was never the same tall woman, as far as he could tell, but there was always one. He thought they were East Germans athletes (the clothing was a tell), and he wanted them to know that he knew they were there. So he'd slow down until they were almost on top of him, drop to a knee and tie his shoelaces, and make eye contact until they passed by. After he did this three times the message was received, and the tall women stopped following him.
I had friends at UCSB, and when I visited I would make time to take John away from St. Vincent's for an afternoon. It was interesting to see how he interacted with strangers we met on a trail, in a convenience store, or really anywhere. People didn't shy away. Some were perplexed and looked to me for guidance, but John was so open and pleased to meet them that their attention snapped back to him. His diction and pronunciation were better back then, and unless he was talking about Godzilla or Frankenstein he was usually able to converse a little bit. The bottom line is, it's very difficult to not respond positively to someone gives you this look, extends their hand, and says, "Hi!"
John wasn't oppositional. He got along with everyone pretty well. But if the opportunity arose to harmlessly misdirect someone, he might do it. He'd also make knowingly silly threats, like picking up my camera bag and saying, "Bye, Joe. I'm going to Hawaii!" Why Hawaii? We don't know. But we know that he knew it was a comically empty threat.
