Naked by Tina Apeles My family was living in Los Feliz when I started grade school in 1977. We lived on Gainsborough Avenue, just down the hill from the Griffith Observatory. I was five and my older sister Tricia was six. We attended Mother of Good Counsel on Vermont, not too far from our house. It was a hazy day in Los Angeles on this particular weekday afternoon. Parked cars lined the street. Tricia, our neighbor Mary and I were walking home up Vermont wearing our blue-and-green plaid, uniform jumpers with white, button-up oxfords. To amuse ourselves on our walk home, we played the license plate game, checking out the cars for out-of-state plates. "Oregon!" screamed Tricia, hitting Mary and me. "Hey, not so hard. That hurt," I said, rubbing my shoulder. "You're such a baby, wait until I get you," Mary warned. "I don't want to play anymore," crossing my arms as I quickly walked ahead. "Your sister can be such a brat sometimes," Mary said to Tricia as I stomped away. "You don't know the half of it... Nevada!" Tricia said hitting Mary again. "No fair, I wasn't paying attention" "Oh boohoo, look who's complaining now. Let's get my sister."

A half-block ahead, I stopped to tie my shoelaces when I looked up and was consumed by the vision in front of me. There he was, just standing there in all his glory, in an apartment garage on a weekday afternoon. He was beautiful. His skin was intensely pale, without any visible scars or imperfections, while his long brown hair and beard looked like they hadn't been washed for days. And he was completely naked. I'd never seen him that way in any pictures or movies about him. I was in awe. He wasn't aware that I was watching him, which confused me. His picture on my parents' dresser at home never left me alone. No matter where I was in their room his eyes followed mine. Now, he wouldn't even look at me. It appeared he must have lost something because he was picking through all sorts of trash in the dumpsters. I wondered what it might be. My sister was heading up the sidewalk, so I called out to her, "Tricia! Look, there's..." pointing at him. Tricia and Mary looked up the street wondering what I was excited about, then they just started running toward me. Seconds later, Tricia reached me and immediately put her hand over my eyes. "But, Tricia, it's..." "Shut up, we're going home." I tried to fight her off but she and Mary took both my hands and dragged me up the street. I took one more look over my shoulder. He was still rummaging through the trash. And all I kept thinking, as I was being hauled away against my will. l, was no one told me Jesus was a bum.

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