Choices

A girl has to choose between love and religion

She never thought much of her self. She's always been that girl that a group of guys would stop and one of them would say, “Hey, my man there wants to ask you out.” Then they’d laugh and walk away. She's that girl that sits along and quiet when her friends aren’t around. If you catch her attention, she’ll flash a smile and go back to her dream world.

It’s not unknown that dreams seem to be better than reality. To escape, she dreamed up the types of lives that she would like to live. She wrote the dreams down on paper. They formed in to stories that entertain her friends. The more she wrote, the more she fell in love the art of putting ideas on papers. If she concentrated on any one subject, she could write for hours. By this, she discovered what her career should be …a writer, namely a novelist.

She writes stories of the type of love she covets. She wants a love of legend. She wants a love so strong that it would rival Romeo & Juliet, Radames & Aida, and Ossie Davis & Ruby Dee. She wants a love that would not only thrive on good sunny times but endure through stormy and macabre times. Inside her heart a pain brewed, she hasn’t found that love. She twice thought she had gotten close to finding it.

The first time it was a little boy with brown eyes that was about three months older than me, yet five inches shorter. It was around the time that I still played with my imaginary friends. (Who she called her “clear people”) I had known Nick since we were in diapers. I used to dream that together we would be the perfect couple. However, when I made a new friend, Becky, and introduced her to him, I didn’t realize that it would end up totally destroying even the friendship that I had with him. Now conversations consist with a hug and, “Hey Nick.”

“Hey Vicki. What’s been going on?”

“Nothing much. What about you?”

“I’m just” caught up with whatever was going on.

She was crushed. From that moment till six years later, she never made any new friends. She remained close to the ones she had, but secretly never trusted anyone else. During those six years she became one of those overweight girls with low self esteems. It didn’t help that the sibling she was closest to, her sister Meegan, left her in the line of fire from her parents.

In her junior year of high school, she went to a career school where she had the chance to shine. She began to enjoy it. She promised herself that she was going to open up in her senior year. Unbeknownst to her, that during the summer she met the guy who would become her second chance at love.

Charles Edward Scott-Spain. I knew of him since the ninth grade. He had a tall afro but got it cut in the 11^th grade. I remember seeing him sit in the hallway with his arms around his (then) girlfriend. I never thought of him as nothing more than one of thousand or so kids that she went to school with.

I begged my parents to let me attend a Teen Summit meeting about African American Literature. They agreed. Although it was only a small class that only met twice, it became the first time that I had ever spoken my true thoughts on different things. I remember that one topic was entertainers today and for one really popular artist I wrote “A waste of space.” As everyone gave their opinions, I got so nervous and thought of changing my answer. When the mediator looked at me I smiled and said, “I wrote down a waste of space.” The two college students that sat in on the meeting were surprised. I can still see Charles sitting across the table from me.

When the school year started I wasn’t exactly as bright as I hoped to be. I still remained quiet. My fourth block was Speech and Debate. As the semester passed I became accustomed with being on stage. From time to time, Charles would come and sit in during the speeches. Although I never noticed, Charles would stare at me for minutes at a time. He would try to start a conversation with me, but I gave cold answers. He would compliment my clothing. I’d flash a smile of thanks and get back to writing my dreams. Weeks went by, he would continue to visit, speak to, and compliment me. I continued ignoring him and giving him cold answers and flashes of smiles.

But one day, he finally caught my eye. At school that day there was an activity of the ROTC. Classes were invited to the review of the cadets. I sat with one of my friends, Danielle, and watched as the school band marched out on to the open parking lot. The person directing the band was a student. He was dressed in a black suit and wore regular white gloves. I looked intently at this man as he turned around. I got a sudden lightning strike in my heart. It was Charles Scott-Spain. “Look at him,” I kept saying to Danielle. “He is so fine. Do you see him?” I stared at him almost the entire time. As the principal later instructed everyone to go to class, I walked by the band with my eyes never leaving him. When I caught his eye, I slowly and silently said, “Hi.” He smiled and waved. At lunch, he entered still wearing his suit with pride and went to the table where his friends were sitting. Again I told Danielle, “He looks amazing. Danielle do you see him?”

“Okay Vicki, god you’ve been talking about him all day.”

When fourth block came, I waited for him to visit. He didn’t come that day nor for the rest of the week. When I asked his best friend, Karl, about where Charles was he answered, “He had to do something with band. Why are you asking?”

“I was just wondering that’s all,” I replied.

The next week, Charles came back to fourth block. I now answered his questions with warm answers. My best friend warned me about him though. I’m one of Jehovah’s Witnesses. He’s not. Her best friend, Ann, kept telling me that he liked me. I smiled at the thought, but told her, “No he doesn’t. We’re just friends.”

On the last day before winter break, her fourth block class had a Christmas party. I sat at my desk and reread over a part of my book that I had chosen to read to the class. I saw a hand put an envelope on the corner of my desk. I looked to see Charles, “Hey uh, thanks.” He also gave me five Hershey’s Kisses.

“I hope you like chocolate.”

“Yeah, I love Hershey’s Kisses.”

Karl stole his attention. She opened the card and read, “Enjoy my kisses. Hee, hee, hee.” I laughed. I was surprised because I realized that the card meant that he actually thought about me. I had totally disregarded the fact that it was a Christmas card and stored it the box where she kept other precious things.

As the semester changed, I continued talking to Charles.  I only saw him during break. He had a class with Ann. As break began I would meet Ann in the hallway and get a snack in the commons. Then we’d stand and talk. The warning bell would sound. Charles would come and Ann, at times, would stay for the chat but usually she went inside the classroom. Charles and I would talk for a little while and pause and talk again. Just a minute before the tardy bell would ring; we’d hug and go to class.

During break one day, I’d met up with Ann in the classroom. Ann was putting the finishing touches to a major project. I sat on one of the desks. Charles came in with a chicken biscuit and sat at his desk. I smiled at him as he entered but continued to talk to Ann. When the warning bell rang, I went towards the door where Charles was sitting on a desk. We spoke and during the normal pause, I did something that I didn’t normally do. I peered straight into his eyes. In those shadowy black eyes I dreamed. I pictured a swimming hole so deep the water appeared black. Boughs of willow trees blew over along with purple petals over us. The moonlight shown brightly above. I floated there in his arms as we twirled through the water and he whispered poetry into my ear. I smiled after realizing I only had a minute to get to class. He smiled too.

In her third block drama class, I learned of coming auditions for the spring musical. This was my time. I was going to do what I always longed to but was too afraid. I was going sing in front of people. I saw this as not only a chance to impress Charles but a chance to show everyone another side of my personality. I auditioned and made the cut into the show. I was ecstatic. I would begin to stay after school and that allowed more of a chance to see Charles. He was a witness on the mock trial team.

On Valentine’s Day, many couples at school exchanged gifts and candy. It usually never bothered me because I knew it was just another pagan holiday but this time it did. After break, I went to class. After reading a portion of Beowulf, the teacher, Mrs. Watson, gave a class assignment which I finished quickly. I took out a sheet of paper and neatly wrote, “Dear Charles.” I paused. I realized that I might be crossing the line between friendship and relationship with someone who didn’t share the same love of God that I possessed. Under the feelings of loneliness, I wrote the letter formally introducing myself to him. When the bell rang, I found him at his locker. After a deep breath I walked up to him, “Charles.”

“Hey Vicki.”

“Here, I wrote you a letter.”

“Thanks.”

I flashed a smile, “Well I gotta get to class. I’ll see you later.”

I walked off as he replied, “Alright.”

That afternoon was the first meeting of the musical cast. A girl who was in the same class as Charles and Ann, named Marian, asked her, “Vicki, do you like Charles?”

“What makes you think I like him?”

“I saw you give him a letter in the hallway this morning.”

I nervously smiled, “I don’t know. Maybe.”

The next day Charles gave me a letter which I put in my purse and read during fourth block Chorus. Earlier, at lunch, Ann told her, “He likes you.”

“What? No he doesn’t we’re just”

“Marion asked him if he likes you.”

“What did he say?”

“He said yes.” I smiled. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him standing by a trashcan that was in my view stalling as he finished his fries. He had been standing there for a few moments staring at me. When he realized that he caught my attention he smiled and waved. I smiled back. Ann looked back and said, “Wow,” sarcastically. I laughed. He went back to the table with his friends.

His letter explained that he was born in New York City and lived in Georgia and settle here. He lost his mom in death when he was only nine years old. In my next letter, I told him about my beliefs, namely that as one of Jehovah’s Witnesses I’m only allowed to date other Witnesses. In his corresponding letter he replied that he does like me, but wasn’t ready for another relationship. I answered back that I liked him as well. He replied that he was glad.

As these letters were being sent, I was auditioning for solos in the musical. For weeks, I played the CD’s over and over to memorize the words. The musical became the key to a whole new phase of life.  A life wherein I wasn’t invisible, I was clearly seen and everyone at least got to see me. I stayed after school for rehearsing solos and dance numbers although I wasn’t in the opening number since it was a religious song. After rehearsals, I would sometimes visit the mock trial team and listen to them practice their direct and cross examinations. But because of this there wasn’t usually much time that we could talk.

One afternoon, my dad was running late so I sat on the benches in front of the school. Out of the right corner of my eye, I saw him sit his bag down on the bench next to mine. We said our hellos and sat for a few seconds. “So what are you doing this weekend,” he asked me.

“I’ll be going out in field service on Saturday morning.” I notice him nod, but it was the unsure nod. So I explained, “You know it’s the door to door work, when we wake up people in the morning.” I smiled nervously. “I’ve heard all of the Jehovah’s Witnesses jokes. But it’s different from our side. There are times that we go to a house where a kid will answer the door and we’ll ask to talk with their parents. You know and he’ll go somewhere and come back saying ‘Mama said we not home.’ ” He laughed, which made me breathe easy.

“So are you going to prom,” he asked me.

“No.”

“No? Why not?”

“My parents, you know so many bad things happen at prom,” I smirked. “Are you going?”

“Yeah and I was hoping to go with you.”

“Oh,” was all that I could say. I looked across the parking lot and the grove of pine trees and to highway 501. I smiled. Inside I flew up into the air spinning and flipping around the afternoon sun. Someone that I liked asked me to the prom. But I soon fell to the ground after again realizing that I would not be allowed to go.

After an uncomfortable silence, my dad drove up. I waved at Charles as we drove off. Daddy asked, “Who was that?”

“Just a boy who was in one of my classes.”

In the next letter, I asked him why he chose to ask me to the prom. He answered, “Because you’re smart, beautiful, funny and plus you can dance.” (He sat in Speech and Debate class the day I gave my presentation of merengue.)

By that letter, her life changed. I, for once, I was told that I was beautiful. I had even been called the twin of my older sister Sonya. Sonya is gorgeous with a personality that even outshines her looks. When someone would say that we look like twins Sonya would look at me and ask, “Do you think you look like me?” I would smile and shrug my shoulders. Deep down I would say to myself, “No, you’re beautiful.” I never thought of myself as beautiful or pretty. My reflection had shown me the nothingness of my face. My face, which seemed plain; my body, too imperfect.

After reading the letter, when she went home and into the bathroom she took a long look at herself. She noticed the richness of her brown skin. She noticed the dark chocolate eyes that peered back. She felt her soft cheeks. She smiled. She noticed that her eyes sparkle when she smiles. She looked in a different, longer mirror. Before all she saw was that she was bigger than all of her friends. Now she noticed that she had a slightly hidden coke bottle shape. She noticed her small high waist, her wide hips and that her thighs had that sleek curve on the sides. She thought to herself that not all women have these physical features and had to get them surgically enhanced to have what she obtained by nature. She realized that she DID look just like her sister.

But also from that moment on I felt different inside. Like there was a big shadow that was possessed me. I did feel better about my outside but on the inside I knew that I was striking a match to a fire that could consume my once clear conscience. The fire of falsehoods. I would have to not tell anyone about Charles; not my parents or my sister could know about the new feelings I was experiencing. For some reason I felt that Jehovah couldn’t see me or wouldn’t notice. And because of this, my conscience wasn’t feeling so clean and clear. The shadow kept everything obscured.

I began to put more of myself into the musical. I was auditioning for nine different solos. I grew confident that I was going to get at least one solo if not two. When the final auditions came, I got into the characters for each song only messing up on one. And it was the one that I really hoped for from the musical Ragtime. It was the song called, “Your Daddy’s Son.” The character Sarah is explaining why she tried to kill her baby. It’s a heart wrenching song that I had grown to love. I sang it well but slightly shaky. I smiled to myself when I heard one of the popular boys say that I had a good voice. Another boy who was head of the school choir asked me why I didn’t audition the year before.

The next week after a full ensemble rehearsal, Mrs. Spearman announced who got what solo. As other names were being called for the roles I wanted my confidence began to fall. As Mrs. Spearman began to call names for the roles for Ragtime I held my breath. “For Daddy’s Son Juleesa Hudson.” My heart sank. Finally my name was called for a role in Cell Block Tango. It was a spoken role not sung. After she announced the final roles, she dismissed rehearsal.

Since I didn’t have a cell phone and didn’t want to talk to anyone, I walked through the darkened hallways of school. I reached the front office door. When I tried to turn the knob it wouldn’t turn. The door was locked. I walked back to the attendance office. I pulled at the handle of the door; it didn’t budge. I walked on further until I came to the guidance office. Tears rimmed my eyes. Again the door was locked. A tear rolled down my cheek. I heard voices coming from the music hall across the commons. I went further down the gloomy hallways with only an occasional light.

Finally my legs collapsed beneath me and I shrunk into a ball while leaning back on the wall in the adjacent hallway. ‘Stupid, stupid, I should have known I wouldn’t get the role,’ I thought to myself. ‘Does this mean that no one will hear me? Does this mean I won’t have my moment?’ Would I miss out on the moment I had dreamed about? It was the moment I had wanted since I silenced myself so many years ago. It was the moment when everyone would turn their attention on me and I would wow and amaze them with my talent. I hate being so quiet and one-dimensional. I wanted to draw their attention and show them all another side of myself.

After crying for a few minutes, I cleaned my face and went down another hall and came to the classroom of one of my favorite teachers. This time the door was unlocked. I called my parents and waited outside for them to arrive.  At home on the computer, I wrote out my thoughts. I began to think to myself, ‘Instead of pouting about what I didn’t get, I need to perfect the role that I got. So I’ll at least be remembered for that.’

As prom night neared I begged Ann and Lucrecia to go. I teased that Ann could go with the jock that had been flirting with her since the beginning of the semester. Of course I should have known better. My older brother snuck off to his prom and was found out later on when pictures of the prom were published in the newspaper. Needless to say, our parents weren’t happy.

On the day of the prom, almost all of my friends were getting ready to leave early. The school made everyone who wanted to go to prom come to school for at least half of the day. All anyone needed was a pass to get out of school early. I didn’t have one. I tried to avoid making contact with Charles. Everyone in all of my classes were all buzzing about their dresses, tuxes, limo rentals, and hotel rooms. My silence increased. By the time I got to Mrs. Spearman’s class, I was close to tears. Mrs. Spearman asked if I was okay. I nodded. Over half of the class was gone, so she let the remainder of the class watch a movie in the main auditorium. I sat with a girl named Latoya. As King Kong started I felt a tear run down my cheek. I got some tissue and blew my nose in the bathroom. When I looked in the mirror, I saw that my eyes were beginning to turn red. I ate lunch in Mrs. Spearman’s classroom. She asked me, “Is today just a bad day?”

“Yeah.”

DJ, the head of the school choir, came in and ate with us. When she finished, Mrs. Spearman told us about a few of her favorite Broadway songs. One in particular was a song from the musical Wicked called “For Good.” Since my last class of the day was still hers, we watched another movie. She chose a movie that I liked, The Phantom of the Opera. Mrs. Spearman’s sister, Mrs. Hall, brought her class. Kayla, a girl who I met through rehearsals and fourth block last semester, came. Kayla is a country girl with a country accent; who, although being a brunette, acts like a blonde. Latoya hadn’t seen the movie nor did she know the plots of the storyline. Kayla kept announcing what was to happen despite reminding her that Latoya hadn’t seen it yet.

For the most part, I enjoyed the half of the movie. Just before the announcements were read of the loud speaker ending the day started, “All I Ask of You” a romantic song began. It was the first time that the lyrics sunk in. “No more talk of darkness forget these wide-eyed fears. I’m here. No one will harm you. My words will warm and calm you… love me that all I ask of you.” Those are the words I wished to hear from Big Dane.

I’ve had many dreams in which I was running from someone, scared out of my wits. Sometimes they ended well with Big Dane coming to my rescue. Other times I would wake up before I either died or was violated. Then there were times when I was killed or had to face something I dreaded, failure. I just wanted to find the man who would save me from these dreams. I was thinking of this on the bus ride home.

Now I had been made aware that my granddaddy was sick, but I hadn’t realized how sick until my mom made me go to the hospital to see him. My granddaddy, Mr. Johnny Wolfe, was known around town as a strong hardworking man. Half Cherokee Indian and half black, in his old age he resembled one of those old wise Indian chieftains that you see in those movies. Now he was an unresponsive skeleton ravaged by cancer struggling for a breath of air. I stood there looking at him for a second, but then I went out to the waiting room which was empty which was strange because just a week ago it was full of people. To rid myself of worry I began to dream.

My cousin Tina arrived, “Vicki why aren’t you at the prom?”

“I want to go, but my parents won’t let me.”

“Come on, I’ll cover for you.”

“What? But I’m not ready. I don’t have a dress to wear.”

“My dress is in the car and I can do your hair.

I convinced my mom to let me go with Tina to help her find something in Barnes and Noble. It was 10:30 pm. It was at a dance club in Myrtle Beach. Tina took me to a friend’s house where both of them worked on sewing tracks into my hair. When they finished, I quickly got dressed. I took a look in the mirror. I looked like princess which made me so happy. I said, “Charles is gonna love this.”

Tina speedily drove to club Isis. “Alright Cinderella, be out of there by midnight so I can get you home by 12:30.”

“Thank you Tina,” I gave her a quick hug and went to the door. But the police officer wouldn’t let me in without an invitation. It was fortunate that Mrs. Watson, my English teacher, was near the door because she let me in.

“You look beautiful Vicki,” she said.

I smiled and quickly walked into the club. A few of my classmates saw me and gave compliments. I saw my friend Ginny. “Hey.”

“Hey! You came!”

“I can’t stay long. Have you seen Charles?” She couldn’t hear me over the music so I shouted it louder.

“He’s over there with Karl.” She pointed. Gladly, his back was turned towards me so I could surprise him. I tapped his shoulder.

“Hey there,” I slyly said.

“Hey,” he gave me a hug. “You’re beautiful.”

“You’re handsome.’

The music changed from “Let’s Get Retarded” by the Black Eyed Peas to “You and Me” by Lifehouse. He put hi arms around my waist and I wrapped mine around his neck. I thought to myself ‘Thank God I’m wearing that sweet smelling deodorant.’ He asked “Do your parents know you’re here?”

A shadow of a mischievous smile went across my face. “No. Let’s put it this way: Cinderella had a fairy godmother, I have a real cousin. I don’t mean my parents are evil or anything,” I quickly added. Then I closed m eyes and rested my head on his shoulder.

He said into my ear, “I’m glad you came.” He held me tighter.

Josh, who was later voted Class Clown, came near us, “Back it up, ya’ll gettin’ too close,” he said separating us.

Charles and I pushed him out of the way. When the song ended “Check Up on It” started and Charles surprised me and everyone around us by break dancing. I even jumped in brushing off my shoulders and moving my hips to the beat. When the song ended we went to the refreshment table. One of my musical cast mates, named Tyleshia, said, “I didn’t know you could dance Vicki.”

“Girl, I’m black and I got these hips, you should know better.”

Charles and I were trying to find a quiet place to talk but instead we ran into Ginny and Lee. Then Aaron found us and Danielle and Kat soon did too. Charles asked in the midst of our conversation about dresses and after prom parties “Vicki do you want to dance?” Another slow song started. “8^th World Wonder,” by Kimberly Locke.

“So what are you thinking about right now,” I asked him.

“That I’m dancing with the most beautiful woman in the world.”

I smiled, “You’re spoiling me with all these compliments.”

“I’m just telling the truth.”

“I never thought I was beautiful until I met you. Yeah my parents would say it but they have to. You don’t.”

“I’ve always thought that you’re beautiful.”

“I’ve always thought that you’re that special classically handsome man. Even with that afro.”

He softly laughed. The DJ announced, “Alright ladies and gents it’s midnight…”

“Oh crap, I have to go,” I said slipping out of his arms. Charles followed me as we squeezed through the cavorting crowd. Outside, Tina was waiting. “Charles I’ll,” he turned me around and tenderly kissed me.

“Vicki, hello Victoria! Victoria Renee Lee,” called Sonya. I came back to reality. “Where were you?”

“On the moon,” I replied.

It was around two o’clock in the morning by the time my mom drove me home. She was back in her bedroom. I got on the computer and went to some message boards on the web. I began to think that prom was over by now and was sure to be awake. So I called him, “Hello?” he said. I could hear voices in the background.

“Hey Charles, it’s Vicki.”

“Oh hey.” Voices continued.

“So how was the prom?”

“It was alright. I’m glad you called.”

“It’s the least I could do for not going.” There was another pause that was filled with the sounds of people talking. “So what are you doing now?”

“We’re just driving around town. What about you? What did you do tonight?”

“I went to go see my granddaddy in the hospital.”

“Vicki,” called my mom who was standing just three feet away from me. I was terrified.

“Hold on,” I told Charles. “Ma’am?”

“Who are you talking to this time of the night?”

“Ann,” popped out of my mouth.

“Hang up! You can talk to her later.” She stood there.

“Um, hey Ann, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay,” said Charles. I was glad that he could take a hint.

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

As my mom went back to her room, I breathed a sigh of relief. Granddaddy died three days later.

A few days later, in front of Daddy, Mama asked me, “Who’s Scott Spain?”

The color drained from my face, “Huh?”

From the look on Mama’s face I knew I was busted. “Scott Spain, who is he?”

“You mean Charles Scott-Spain?” Both of them looked at me. I asked her, “Where did you hear that name?”

“I saw (so and so) in town today and her daughter mentioned that you have been talking to him a lot lately.”

My face ran hot. I could see THAT look on Daddy’s face. “I just have a little crush on him. That’s all. And he has a little crush on me too. It’ll pass.”

“It better,” said Daddy. “You’re baptized remember you dedicated your life to Jehovah. That means you put him first all things even in choosing a boyfriend. Does he know Jehovah?”

“No.”

“That should mean something to you.”

“Don’t you know,” said Mama, “that he’s family?”

“What?”

“He’s related on grandma’s side.”

“He’s from New York City.”

“And we have family up there.”

“Yeah but”

“But nothing he’s family.”

Had I fallen into the family curse? Every single one of my siblings Sonya, Timmy, and Meegan had all, at one time or another, been attracted to a distant cousin. Some ended the attraction immediately others continued the relationships until they fizzled. Mama later added that all black people in Conway were related. With that statement I disregarded the whole fact. What Daddy mentioned of Jehovah also went in one ear and out the other.

Two weeks before the musical, there were parent-teacher conferences. Rehearsals were that same afternoon. It had been arranged that my parents would come around 7:00. Rehearsals ended around 6:30. I went to the mock trial practice where Charles, Karl, and Ginny were taking a break. Kayla came with me. Karl was having issues with a girl and Ginny was offering him advice. We causally talked until seven o’clock donned on the TV screen in the mini auditorium. I went inside the adjacent classroom to call Daddy. He was already waiting in the car outside. I went through the mini auditorium and told Charles, “My dad is waiting. I’ll see you later.” I waved goodbye to everyone and glanced at Charles before I walked out of the door. As I went to the main doors I noticed the sound of footsteps behind me. I looked back and Charles was there. Inside I panicked, ‘No! What are you doing? Stop following me, are you crazy?’ Outside, I appeared calm and smile sweetly as he opened the door for me. For some unbeknown reason I could not tell him to stop. Outside, I saw Daddy standing by the benches near the big school anchor. I could see his eyes burning towards the person that was behind me. Then he turned his head. My face ran hot again.

“Hey Daddy,” I said nervously.

“Hey Vicki,” he looked towards the cars in the parking lot.

“This is Charles,” I said after taking a deep breath, “Charles this is my dad.”

Daddy didn’t even look at him, but shook his hand. “How you doing,” Daddy asked in a dull manner.

“Good. It’s nice to meet you,” Charles replied.

There was a long and extremely uncomfortable pause. During which I observed the bushes that lined the sidewalk. The leaves had sharp points. I quickly had a gruesome day dream. The leaves turned into sharp daggers. Daddy grabbed one and plunged it into Charles’ heart. I held him as he died. “You did this on purpose didn’t you,” said Daddy waking me up.

“Huh?”

“Bringing him up in my face. Who is he?”

“He followed me out here,” I said in a quiet voice.

“Speak up girl.”

“He followed me out here.”

“Yeah,” he said sarcastically.

I couldn’t bring myself to look at Charles who remained silent. In the second pause, I took the leaf dagger and vertically slit my wrists. “Vicki,” said Charles, “I’ll see you tomorrow. It was nice meeting you sir,” he then sped back into the school. During the five minute wait for Mama, Daddy spoke angrily then soft and gentle, then angrily again and its counterpoint. When Mama arrived Daddy told her about meeting Charles. I was surprised. Usually mama’s anger matches daddy’s but today she was slightly agitated but calm. Then again Daddy was angry enough for the both of them.

So we went to the first block teacher Mr. Fleming and the student teacher and wrestling coach, Coach Love. Ch. Love told my parents that although I sleep in class sometimes I turn A+ work. As we went to Mrs. Watson’s class, my parents were talking about how nicely Coach Love and Mr. Fleming spoke of me. Mrs. Watson wasn’t in her room so we waited. Daddy was starting to get impatient. After five minutes of hearing Daddy complain about it and go from nice to aggravated to upset and back to nice, I went to the teacher’s lounge looking for her. She wasn’t there so I went to different classrooms until I found her. She told my parents that she was glad to have at least one quiet person in her second block class. English was filled the class clowns and their friends and popular people. She had even mentioned Converse, which is the college that I heard about and was very interested in except it’s on the other side of the state. Needless to say, my parents weren’t happy with this choice and my teacher mentioning it didn’t help. Over all she said good things.

When we left, my dad told me that I need to end everything so I said okay. I let the way to Ms. Cardinal’s room which was from where I called Daddy earlier. Charles was there talking to Karl. My parents stood on the wall a few yards away. I asked Charles to come out to the hallway. Karl walked between us briefly pausing to put his hand on Charles’ shoulder, “Take courage my good man take courage,” then he went to the bathroom.

Charles tried to look in my eyes but I looked towards the classroom. “I need to break whatever this is off.”

“Okay.”

“The thing is if I had to choose between God and a crush without a doubt I’d choose God,” I said now looking at his shirt.

“Of course.”

“Basically what I’m saying is,” I looked him, keenly, in the eye and to my right (trying not to turn or move my head). “I don’t want to talk to you anymore.” I repeated the eye movement twice then looked him in the eye. He looked over my head towards my parents.

“Okay,” he simply said.

“So have a nice life.” I turned around and quickly walked ahead to Mrs. Spearman’s room. Daddy stopped me as said that he was proud of me. A bolt of guilt burned my heart. Mrs. Spearman told them how talented she thinks I am.

When they asked me who I wanted to ride home with, I opted for Mama. Daddy left. Mama saw a distant cousin sitting on one of the benches. And as usual she started talking to her. I saw Charles and Karl coming down the walk way. Feeling really embarrassed, I asked mama for the keys and sat in the van.

The next day during first block I told Ann all that happened. She had the audacity to laugh. “It’s not funny my dad went bipolar on me.”

Karl, who’s in that class, asked, “So you really can’t talk to him at all.”

“I really shouldn’t.”

“You said shouldn’t that means,” I flashed a smile. “Ah,” then he sat down. “You’re a devious one aren’t you?”

“I’m not devious.”

“That’s your name,” said Ann.

“What?”

“Devious Diva. That’s what I’m gonna shout out at graduation.”

“You already know what I’m gonna yell.”

“What?”

“Missy,” I mock-yelled. She sucked her teeth.

During break I hoped to avoid him but he found me. “I’m sorry about yesterday.”

“No, I’m sorry I should’ve told you not to follow me. I didn’t mean what I said about not wanting to talk to you. We’re friends right?”

“Yeah, yeah friends.”

“Obviously my parents have a lot of friends that work here so we shouldn’t talk face to face for a while. I’ll send you a letter by Ginny.”

“Okay, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Alright.” Ginny Messinger became a messenger for the next three weeks.

The week of the musical, I was nervous. The costume theme for my song was fishnet. Other girls had their fishnet gloves, fishnet shirts, or fishnet stockings. I had nothing that was fish net. It wasn’t until Thursday, the open dress rehearsal to the teachers, that I finally got fishnet stockings. Sonya had come to my rescue yet again. She dropped me off at school. I sat in the dressing room and laid out my different costumes (mostly shirts) in order in the corner I chose and listened to people talk back and forth.

The show started off well with only a few pitch problems here and there. The show would have been great if there had been more teachers. There were no more than eight people in the audience. But the show went on. When Cell Block Tango started, I strutted out on stage. I sung with an angry tone. And when it was time for me to step into the spot light I did. I owned the stage. Inside my mind I was joyously rejoicing how well I did. When we got off stage I changed into my costume for West Side Story (a red shirt and black pants).  I felt proud of myself for the first time in a long time

On Friday, we were to perform four times. We performed a few songs three times during the day for elementary, middle, and finally high school. It was mostly the group numbers. It was at nighttime that the fun really started because we were now open to the public. This time the audience filled the auditorium. They were lively and interactive. My sister and brother-in-law sat in the second row, which was visible from the stage. The back rows were obscured in the darkness. My parents were sitting towards the center.

Again, I owned the stage, but this time I did even better because the audience gave me and everyone else more energy. I got a lot of laughs. Someone even yelled, “Watch out for that one!”

By the time the show ended, the audience was up out of their seats. After the curtain closed, we all rejoiced over the show coming across so well when so many lyrics were forgotten, notes missed, and disappearing and reappearing props. After I got changed, my parents and my sister and my brother-in-law, Daniel, and me all left to get something to eat at Wendy’s. I asked their thoughts. Mama replied that she didn’t like that I was in one of the political songs, “For the Glory.” Daddy, Sonya, and Daniel were saying that they were surprised by my sassiness and clearly spoken words. Sonya admitted, “I was a little nervous when you said it was a monologue, because you know you don’t always open your mouth when you talk.”

“She can when she wants to,” said Mama.

“But you go on girl,” said Sonya. “You said he ran into your knife.”

Teasingly, I asked my Puerto Rican brother-in-law, “So what did you think of the song “America”?” (From West Side Story)

“Somebody needs to talk to that girl,” he said. We laughed.

Saturday’s audience was dead. The singing was better. The dancers were great until the last two songs when one of them fell. Aaron came that night. He thought I made my character believable. Sunday night, Charles was there. Emma Bryant, friend of the family who’s more like family than friend, was there also. The show was performed the best that night. Notes were hit, lines remembered, and dancers didn’t fall. I was glad that the show went well. I was so giddy that he was out there.

After the show, I looked around for Emma but I didn’t see her. I didn’t see Charles either. Worn out and tired, my cast mates and I cleared out all our stuff and put away the set props. Mrs. Spearman kept on saying how proud of us she was. Sonya gave me a ride home.

With the show over, I felt that I had accomplished, for the most part, what I endeavored to do. I opened my personality for everyone to see. It at least showed some depth and brilliance in my personality.

That next Tuesday, Mrs. Spearman threw a party for the cast and crew during 2^nd and 3^rd block. I sat with Ginny, Lee, Kayla, Leslie, and JT. We were having fun. But then the fire alarm went off so we had to go outside. I saw Charles so we, Ginny and Lee talked for a moment. Then the teachers waved us back inside. Mrs. Spearman gave us posters of the marquee for “Voices of Hope in History” and pens to go around and give everyone a message or signature. Charles suddenly appeared and started signing himself although he wasn’t in the show. Smiling, I brought him my poster and asked him to sign it which he gladly did. His band teacher came back, so he went to class.

I had forgotten about my second chance at stardom. As my final exam in Drama II, I had to act on stage. It was great! Mrs. Spearman distributed the scripts to everyone and told them to read over it and choose the parts they’d want to audition for. I chose five different roles and ended up with three of them. As the last few weeks of school went by we continued to practice.

There were many times when the band teacher would get preoccupied and would ask Mrs. Spearman to watch his class. On one particular occasion, my class was in the middle of rehearsals when they came in. I had just finished a scene and was sitting in the front of the main auditorium. I walked towards the back where he was sitting. He stood up and gave me a hug. For a brief moment I reveled his scent and his touch. He smiled and gazed into my eyes, “How are you?”

“I’m good. How about you?”

“I’m fine.” ‘Yes you are,’ I thought to myself. “So how are rehearsals going?”

“It’s okay. You know Josh is in this and he makes it very interesting.” We both laughed and turned our attention towards the stage were another scene was wrapping. (Or I like I did.)

“Vicki,” I looked at him. “Can I have another hug?”

“Sure, I love your hugs.” I felt that I could stay in his embrace for a thousand years.

Josh Calvin, the cantankerous star of Class Action, tried to ruin the moment. “Excuse me, excuse me are you supposed to be in here mister? You two need to stop making out.” We both laughed.

With an evil smile on my face I told him, “If you don’t leave, I swear I’ll kick you in your neck.”

“Dang, you’re mean Vicki. Charles you better watch out for her.” He stalked off to go harass somebody else.

We sat down on the last row in the back of the auditorium. Silence. Then we began talking. He mentioned how hard it was growing up without a major female influence in his life. I told him that I couldn’t fathom it after living out my life so far with two sisters and a mother present. Not to mention, for the male perspective I have a brother and father. I got him to smile when I said that at least he’s fortunate not to have experienced much PMS. When the bell rang for lunch, we hugged again and went on to lunch. I tried to tell Ann what Charles said and how I felt about it, but she refused to listen. Again, she warned me about having to make a choice.

For the rest of the week, I had a strange series of dreams that haunted me. In the first, I became Christine, Charles was the Phantom and Big Dane was Raoul. (In all of my wildest dreams Big Dane was there, but I could never see his face or hear his voice. Even despite all of the contact we had I could never see him.) The Phantom and I were singing “The Point of No Return.” As was the real Christine, I was enthralled of passion with him and finally ripped off his mask. I screamed at the sight of his face and so did the audience. There was a scar of a cross with the indention of a crucified Jesus hanging from it on the upper right side of his face. He grabbed me and down a system of trapdoors we fell. Big Dane followed us. Suddenly I found myself in the catacombs of the Opera house. Big Dane had been chained to the portcullis and Charles had a noose around his neck. He demanded that I chose right then and there. Big Dane also demanded to know who I wanted to choose.

I woke up only to have this nightmare continued in a daydream during Drama class. I kissed the Phantom Charles and told him, “No, I can’t and don’t love you.” He angrily began breaking mirrors. The angry mob of the audience was heard from the distance. I unchained Big Dane and we embraced. The moment was interrupted by a loud shriek of my name from the Phantom. He plunged a dagger into his chest and jumped into a mirror. I was taken aback. I turn around to see Big Dane and was surprised at who I saw. Big Dane suddenly appeared. He was Charles. He was wearing a suit. The scar had disappeared. “Big Dane?”

“It’s me,” he said. Then he kissed me. I was awoken by Ginny.

In the next dream, I had chosen to leave Jehovah and my family and my friends. I had moved in with Charles’ father and brothers. I got a job working at Port City Java while Charles was away at college. I became a beloved sister to his little brothers and a daughter/friend to his dad. When Charles came to visit during the winter break, we slept in the same bed but never made love.

The next day we spent time together with his family. He seemed impressed about how well I got along with his brothers. As the week passed and Christmas came, I made the decision not to celebrate. So that day I walked around downtown Conway and looked into store windows. I heard footsteps behind me and turned around. It was Charles so I waited for him and we continued hand in hand. He seemed slightly agitated. I asked what was bothering him to which he replied nothing. “Have you spoken to your parents,” he asked me after a moment of silence.

“I talked to my dad last week. He’s really disappointed in me.”

“He said that?”

“No, I could tell from the way he spoke that he’s not happy with me. Even though I told him that we were waiting until we get married. He wants me to talk to the elders but if I do,” tears rimmed my eyes.

“Everything is gonna be fine. You’ve been going to the meetings right?”

“Yeah, but you don’t understand.”

“Then help me to understand.”

“They’re going to disassociate me. I won’t be able to talk to anybody and I’ll only have a little contact with my family,” I said with tears pouring down my face. He simply held me until I calmed down.

“I’ll become a Witness. I’ll study. You’ve given up everything to be with me.”

“You shouldn’t just do it for me. You should want to learn about Jehovah not to help me.”

When we went back to the house, I got dressed for the meeting that night. I was surprised when I saw Charles wearing his suit. “I’m coming with you.” We arrived just before the song started. There were two seats towards the middle of the rows on the left side of the auditorium. I felt fifty pairs of eyes burning the back of my head. Charles put his arm around me.

After the meeting I asked Charles to stay and converse. As I made my way through the crowd, I felt the eyes follow me. I was suddenly glad that I had lost weight from all the walking. I felt a tap on my shoulder; it was Brother Merrel (son), an elder. He asked to set up a time so that I could meet with the elders. Teary-eyed, I said “We might as well get it over with.” We went to the third hall. He said he would return with another elder. I sat down in the front left row. I looked out of the open blinds to the people that I had grown up with and loved as members of my own family. Now, I was to be torn away from them because of my own selfish longings.

In the meeting, it was basically brought to a choice. I could choose to be with Charles or choose to remain loyal to Jehovah. I could enjoy momentary joy or an eternal joy in service of the Almighty, although giving up Charles. I had to make the choice: a life with Charles or a life in the favor of Jehovah who could provide everlasting life in a paradise earth when you freely give your heart because everyone will have the same love and adoration of Jehovah God and His Son Jesus. I had to choose: a façade of everlasting joy, or the reality of living in elation, in peace, in paradise. I looked at the elders with tears. “But I love him.” I made a choice. I choose…………. Charles.

 At the next Wednesday night meeting it was announced that Victoria Lee was no longer one of Jehovah’s Witnesses. I stayed home with Charles. I cried. I was depressed. Charles’ hugs and kisses weren’t easing my pain. He found that it was his brothers that could make me smile. It was his brothers that would get me out of bed to go to work. One day, as I got ready to go to work,I asked Charles if he’d like to walk with me and have a free drink. He replied, “You sure you want me or do you mean Wesley? I’m sure Wesley would love to go.”

“Charles please come with me.”

“Sure we need to talk anyways.” Outside, Charles told me that he wanted to breakup.

I stopped in my steps. “What?”

“Vicki, you shouldn’t be with me you know that. I just want you to be happy and you’re not.”

“I gave up everything,” I said in broken phrases. “I gave up everything to be with you. And you’re breaking up with me?”

“Vicki,” he put his hand on my cheek.

I thrust his hand aside and ran to the end of the block and across the road narrowly escaping an accident. The driver yelled obscenities. I kept on but finally sat down on the curb. When he caught up to me, he sat down. “I love you Charles. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here.”

“I know. I love you, but I can’t take you from everything and everyone you love. I see the pain in your eyes.”

“Charles, I turned my back on Jehovah for you.”

“Doesn’t the Bible say He’s a forgiving God? You still love Him don’t you?”

“Yes, but I love you too.”

“I don’t want to be the person who drew the line off from your family. You’ll hate me.”

The blaring alarm clock awoke me from this nightmare. Shaken, I turned it off. I felt cold although my sweaty face and body showed different. I kept thinking about it as I got on the bus. I began to daydream picking up from that last horrible dream.

It was summer of the next year. I had moved back in with my parents and worked on rebuilding my relationship with them and with Jehovah. I’d been working that summer and because I was close to being reinstated my dad said he’d pay for me to go to school. But I reassured them that I would get financial aid. Charles tried to call and email me. But I didn’t respond. Wesley called and said that Charles was back in town and he had something to tell me. I replied that I wasn’t interested in Charles anymore. He showed up at my job but I went to the back while he placed his order. He asked to see me. I said no. I called Daddy to see if he could come because I couldn’t face him myself. Fortunately, Daddy was at the Chinese restaurant just down the street. From the back I watched them talk and Charles soon left. The next week I was finally reinstated. A few weeks later, I received back all of my privileges. Three years lapsed. I had moved to Greenville, SC but with Mama’s stroke I was starting to move back. It was Sunday and we just finished the closing prayer. I was laughing with Ann and her husband AJ when I noticed Charles talking to an elder. I asked Ann, “What is he doing here?”

“He’s in the congregation.”

“What?”

“He moved back about a year ago. He’s been baptized for a few years now.”

“Are you serious?”

“He’s a good brother,” said AJ. “He’s a fluent speaker.”

The second his eyes reached mine the fire from four years ago blazed. “Hey Vicki.”

“Charles.”

“Vicki!” Yelled Lucrecia interrupting Charles. “Hey girl,” she gave me a hug.

“Hey Crecia.”

“Lucrecia, can I steal her from you for a second,” said Charles.

“I guess, but we need to do something today.”

“Of course, we gotta go out to eat or something. I’ll be right back.” I followed him outside. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to find out what was coming between us. I figured that it was because I didn’t know Jehovah so I wanted to find out who He is.”

“Who is He then?”

“He is the one true God over all the universe.”

I was awoken from the dream by the bus arriving at school. I made my way through the hordes of clicks. I saw Charles playing Magic with Karl. He looked up, smiled, and waved. I smiled and waved back. I went on to my usual standing place but Lucrecia wasn’t there. For ten minutes I was left at the mercy of my wild imagination. When the bell rung, I went in to the library to find a door out of my head and to another world. I picked up a book that I knew almost by heart. In first block, I knew that Ann wouldn’t want to hear about the dreams. Listening to Mr. Fleming talking wasn’t helping either. So I laid my head down on the desk and went into a dreamless sleep.

In my heart I knew that I should let Charles go and repair my relationship with Jehovah. I had stopped praying on my own. I barely remembered to prepare for the meetings. During which I would daydream and found it hard to focus my attention on the brother giving the talk. Although I never admitted to myself that there was a reason why I couldn’t let him go: I was afraid that no other man would like me much less love me. Me, who had such a deep pessimistic heart that I beguiled for optimism to others. But with the feeling that I might be in love, I used optimism as a façade of reality that I could be with Charles. Since he gave me that letter in which he said that I was beautiful, I actually began to believe that I was. Reason two: I was afraid that without him I would lose the beautiful person that I had become. In my insecurity, I couldn’t put my trust in Jehovah. I could wait on Jehovah to provide someone for me, but I doubted that any guy would love me.

The weekend before the school play, my sister Meegan brought Dorian her son over to my house for Mama and I to baby-sit. She was pregnant with her second baby. At the sight of her, I felt angry and disappointed. Dorian was a good kid, but things still could have been different. After Mama and I dropped him of there was an after taste of memories from three years ago.

We had just come back from the district convention of 2003. Timmy stopped by. He had video tapped the assembly and the audience. He shot footage of Meegan sitting with Terrence. (She had been talking to Terrence for a while but didn’t love him. Terrence would give her his physical heart if she needed it.) She was wearing his suit jacket and laid her head on his shoulder. My dad exploded when he saw the video and yelled at her. Of course it was obvious that Daddy was overreacting. I’m sure he would have apologized. Meegan stayed in her room until midnight that night. I was in the kitchen washing dishes. She was putting on her tennis shoes and was wearing her jacket and had her purse hanging off her shoulder. I didn’t think anything about it. There was a bowl on the table that I had taken out of the refrigerator that contained five week old collard greens. She said that she would dump it out for me. I didn’t want to dump it out so I let her. I finished washing the cups and plate and put a pot in the dishwater and went to the adjacent dining room.  (It had been converted to a TV room.) I went back and washed the pot. The water got really dirty so I let it drain out and poured clean water. I finished the dishes. She still had not returned.

I went to the wall unit and took a flashlight from the top middle compartment. I went outside and looked around with the light. The car and the van were there but no other car. And no Meegan. I thought to myself, ‘Okay she’s gone but she’ll come back.’ I went back inside and sat in the dining room. An hour passed. She hadn’t come. I went outside again. No Meegan. I went back inside worried. “She’ll come back,” I told myself. Twenty minutes later I went outside again. Still no Meegan. I sat down in front of the TV thinking, ‘Where is she?’ I waited for her to come back inside. The clock on the microwave read 4:13 when Daddy woke up and told me to go to bed.

The next morning, I was awoken by Mama who asked me where Meegan was. I replied that I didn’t know. Daddy was in a whirlwind of emotions the foremost being fear and anger. I had become New Orleans and he Hurricane Katrina. I took in his anger. He seemed to blame me for not knowing where she was. In tears, I kept telling them that I had no idea where she was. I tried calling her cell phone but she wouldn’t pick up. Sonya came by with flowers and a card. The card read, “I know things may seem unbearable and there’s a chance that it could become even more unbearable; never forget that Jehovah is a Strong Rock that we can depend on! … He’ll provide you with strength to endure… I’m here for you.” She told me she loved me and gave me a big hug. The months that followed were strange. Dishes were broken. I felt lonelier. My dad viewed me in a different way. It was a way that I hated and lead to many arguments. I knew that I did not want to be like Meegan in any way.

On the Monday of the first performance, everyone was panicking. Mrs. Spearman’s husband was in the hospital. So we had to put on the show all by ourselves. We were supposed to put it on during first and second block on Monday and Wednesday and on Tuesday and Thursday during second and fourth block. Everyone was looking for Josh, who was there but was not in the auditorium. I went to find him and finally did in Mr. Fleming’s classroom. He said he was quitting the show. “Are you serious? You can’t just quit the play five minutes before it starts.

“I’m sorry man, but I’m not about to fail this class and not graduate.”

“Josh, if you need help, I’ll help you. You know that you have most of the scenes. We need you.”

“I’m sorry.”

I glared at him. Ann was sitting there the whole time half watching me fuss at Josh and writing down the morning exercise. I was too upset to acknowledge her. I went back to the auditorium and told everyone the bad news. Mrs. Hall went to talk to him and made a deal with Mr. Fleming. So the show went on without Mrs. Spearman. We were in no way faithful to the script. Especially Josh. He was in about 13 of the 25 scenes. Every time the lights went out and he walked off stage the audience was filled with mirth.

I even made a few jokes that garnered laughter. For the nervous ones, like Jodi (Aaron’s younger cousin) was reading out their lines from the side of left wing of the stage. That was the worst part. After I said the closing lines, “Congratulations class of…” we took our bows. I noticed Mr. Fleming out in the audience so he must have brought the class. The next performance went great. Again the audience gave us a lot of energy. During third block we had a sub but no one really listened to her. We were getting ready for the next performances. They all went well. Most of the audiences were vibrant and reactive. There was only one that I remembered that it didn’t go well with. That was only because they were mostly freshman who didn’t really know any of us seniors nor the juniors.

I also discovered my new self esteem on stage. In one of my scenes I play a prep who’s trying to stop her best friend from dating an overweight skater dude. My character had to emphasize that he was just a big fat loser. From up on stage, I heard someone in the audience say, “But she’s fat.” I stayed in character and didn’t falter. Ginny and Latoya (who play my friends) heard it. When the scene wrapped, Latoya said something about it to Ginny but I didn’t hear it. I went on as if nothing happened. Sure I thought about it from time to time but I didn’t let it get me down. The reason? I felt that I was beautiful and nothing could destroy that for me. After one of the performances Charles came up on stage. He gave both me and Ginny hugs. He said, “You were great.”

“Not really,” I said, “we didn’t follow the script, especially Josh.”

“We couldn’t tell.” The bell ending the day rang. I quickly gave him another hug and left for the bus.

On the last day of performances, Mrs. Spearman was there. She was impressed that we put the show on by ourselves. For some reason, I got nervous and stumbled over my words. We only performed during first and second blocks. So during third block, we cleaned out the dressing rooms and props. Charles came from band to hang out with Ginny and me. We were talking about X-Men III and whether or not there would be a fourth installment. Charles and I hadn’t seen it yet but Ginny, LT, and Leslie had. I begged them not to tell any details. I was sitting on right edge of the stage and Charles was standing facing me to my right. He asked me where I live and I replied that I live down highway 905. I asked where he lived and he said that he lived around Racepath and 6^th Avenue. (Downtown Conway) I asked, “Isn’t that a bad neighborhood?”

“There was a lot of drugs but not anymore. There are more cops living there now.”

Eventually, Mrs. Spearman herded us back to class. Charles helped me and Ginny carry our things to the classroom. Then he sat down beside me as we all laughed and joked around. I showed him my book of goals and attempts at poetry. I know my poetry is horrible and that exactly what I told him. He just smiled. He gave me a hug before we had to leave for lunch.

The next week was the last week ever of high school and it was short. Monday was a full day and Tuesday, which was a half day, was the last day for us seniors. Ginny, Latoya and I were talking about it being the end of school. Latoya was saying that she’d miss us. (She’s a junior.) We decided to go to Mrs. Spearman’s classroom. Leslie and her boyfriend were already there. Charles came also. We were all excited and playing word games. Leslie and Ginny were trying to get Charles to do a character that he’d done in his drama class. The character was gay and obviously had a funny expression that made some people think he really was gay. Charles kept on saying no. I had to get out of his view so he could do it. With only five mines left before the bell would ring we went into the small music hall and chatted with Mrs. Spearman. The bell rang. Charles gave me another hug. We both didn’t want to let go of each other for a while. I told everyone goodbye and went to the buses.

I always had those girly daydreams where after graduation my crush would give me a big kiss and everyone would cheer and applaud us. The freaky thing is: IT COULD ACTUALLY COME TRUE! After all of the dreams of Big Dane and of receiving that storybook kiss, one of my dreams might actually come true. Now was the time that I had to choose to either be with him or not. I thought about the things Ann and Sonya told me. Sonya would always jokingly say, “Girl, wait till the new system to find a man.” But she really meant it. A while ago, Ann went to Charleston to hang out with her cousin for a weekend. At the meeting, the brother that gave the public talk mentioned a scripture that she thought was very interesting. She shared it with both Lucrecia and I since we both had the same problem. It was from 2^nd Corinthians 6: 14. It reads, “Do not become unevenly yoked with unbelievers. For what fellowship do righteousness and lawlessness have? Or what sharing does light have with darkness?” In the meetings 1^st John 1:15, 17 was read, “Do not be loving either the world or things in the world. If anyone loves the world the love of the father is not in him. ¹⁷ Furthermore, the world is passing away and so is its desire, but he that does the will of God remains forever.”

I don’t know life without Jehovah. I’ve grown up around His people and grown to love Him. I couldn’t turn my back on Him. I may often live in the clouds, but I do notice the craziness of the world around me. I do not want to be part of that world.

Graduation was on Friday night at seven o’clock. On Wednesday, I went to get braids. It took the girl who did it six hours which was fast for it being micro-braids. But when Sonya dropped me off at home, already one of them fell out. I tried on my graduation gown and hat and looked in the mirror. Adulthood yikes.

Friday morning was the practice. Ann gave me a ride. We went into the gym and sat in the senior bleachers. The middle of the gym floor was covered with chairs. Each chair had a piece of paper taped to it that had a name of a senior. When Ginny and Aaron arrived I sat with them. Ginny gave me a journal and the cover read, “Friendship is the golden ribbon that ties the world together.” It was then that I noticed I didn’t see Danielle, nor Kat, nor a lot of other seniors that I started the year with. A few teachers congratulated us and then we had to wait as everyone handled all last minute bills and checking. I saw Charles standing on the wall. He waved. I waved back. That was the only contact we had that day.

The teachers asked us to find our names and sit. We then practiced getting up and sitting down. We went in separate lines led by junior officers to the main auditorium. Then we were escorted to the gates of the football, baseball, softball, and tennis arenas. We stood there for about ten minutes in the blazing sun. I was joking around with Ann and the people around me were making us laugh. Finally, we went on to the football field. As some started taking their seats, we still had to stand in the scorching heat. I could feel the beads of sweat popping up on my head and roll down. I knew that these flimsy braids of mine would start to slip out. When we were seated, the teachers told us again how proud they were. They passed out class pictures to those that ordered them and finally we had a practice run of receiving several awards.

As I went back inside the main building with Ann, Lucrecia, and their friend Ursula, we were looking and talking about the generic letters from the governor and the principal. I followed as they went into the school to talk to Mrs. Schofield. I saw Mrs. Spearman from afar. She was talking to a group of students. So when we left we stopped by McDonald’s and then Ann dropped Ursula off at the bus station so she could meet up with her mom. We drove by the Port City Java restaurant and stopped. I picked up a few applications. Though out all of all of this we were rejoicing that, after thirteen years of schools, grades, crazy teachers, oppressive bullies, dumb jocks, hilarious moments, and surviving keyboarding class with Mrs. Boyd; we were finally graduating.

Ann dropped me off just as my dad was pulling up. So I told them I’d see them later and chanted, “06!” I looked at the time 5:30. I looked in my closet to find something to wear that wasn’t too long and shoes that went well with that green gown. I chose a soft gold outfit and tan shoes. I looked at the gown and the hat amazed that I had arrived. I would finally be considered an adult.

I had to be at school by 6:15. Daddy drove me. I should have left my purse behind but I brought it in with me. Everyone was wearing their gowns. There was green everywhere. I saw Ann and Lucrecia and told them about how nervous I was. They helped me put on my white collar. “Why did you bring your purse,” Ann asked me.

“Goodness I don’t know. I need to go find Aaron.”

“Aaron huh,” said Ann looking at me.

I smiled, “I’ll see ya’ll in a minute.” Charles was standing in front of the rows of chairs talking to Ginny and Aaron. I joined the conversation and we made plans to meet at Shoney’s for breakfast in the morning. Only, I forgot that my Aunt Miranda came from Columbia to see me graduate. So my parents might have made some plans.

I had planned to give Charles one of my favorite necklaces. In all honesty it was really just a keychain that I thought shouldn’t be a keychain. It was a round metal disc on one side it had a fully blossomed rose. On the other it read “Love is… long suffering, kind, does not boast. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, and endures all things. Love never fails. 1^st Corinthians 13:4-8.” I had worn it so much that the scent of my perfume fixed it self on it. I was fumbling it around and between my fingers throughout the entire conversation. I’m sure he noticed it but he didn’t say anything about it. He’s gotten accustomed to my nervous nature. I finally said when Aaron and Ginny left, “Here, I want you to have it.”

“Thanks.”

Then I left and asked Aaron if I could put my purse in his car. He said yes so he, Ginny, and I went outside. He had spoken to Danielle and she gave him her yearbook for us to sign and letters for both Ginny and me. I took the letter back inside with me. When we went inside, the teachers were giving their last instructions of sitting down in the chairs. I sat down and read Danielle’s letter. She spoke of all that she had been through from getting caught up in drugs to being sent to boot camp where she still smoked weed. But in essence she was okay and that there’s no need to worry. Ann caught my attention directed it to Lucrecia. We waved at each other. She said, “You need to get a phone so we could text too.”

“I bet I won’t get one though.”

“You will.”

It came time to get up and walk towards the football field. I saw Daddy and Timmy standing at the entrance as was other parents and family and friends.  On the way our teachers were stationed along the side walk from the gates to the football field. They smiled and said hello or congrats to their favorite students. We continued on. I saw my grandma and my mom on the way to the field also. We sat down together and listened while speeches were given. I looked at the scoreboard at the side of the field it read “Congrats Class of 2006! Make us proud.” Then they started calling names; of course the Honor Society members went first. Charles was among them. When Mrs. Watson called his name, I screamed. (I was surprised that the really popular people didn’t have as much screams.)Then I screamed for all the rest of my friends and musical cast mates. (Of course when Ann was called, I screamed Missy just as I promised I would.)

When Mrs. Watson called my name, I nervously went up the stairs, shook hands, and took my diploma folder. I was determined not to fall and I didn’t. One of the things that surprised me was the amount of cheers I got. It seemed like everyone in the bleachers behind us and in front of us was screaming my name or cheering. It felt so good. At that moment I felt so good.

After everyone received their folders and sat down, Mr. Wilkinson, the principal announced, “Congratulations Class of 2006.” We all stood up and some threw their hats up in to the sky. I took my hat and waved it in the air but then put it back on. Then all of us headed over to a tent where guidance counselors were waiting with our real diplomas. They were divided in alphabetical order. Mrs. Mubarek had mine and Ginny’s. As we both went to find our families she dropped her little miniature diploma. So I caught up with her and gave it to her.

As I looked around for familiar faces, I saw Mrs. Spearman and some musical cast mates and fellow graduates hugging and crying.  I heard someone yell my name. I turned around to see Sonya running towards me with open arms. I sprinted to her and we hugged. I started crying so suddenly that I snorted. I laughed. Sonya said, “That’s my girl! Why are you crying? Girl stop crying you’re making me cry.”

“I’m sorry; it’s just that it’s over.” I tried to calm down but the tears still came. “Where’s Mama and Daddy?”

“They’re by the concession stand over there.”

As we made our way through the crowd, I saw an old friend from freshman year. He was best friends with Becky (actually he was in love with her) and Ann and I ate lunch with them. He graduated with Becky in 2004. He said, “Hey Vicki, Congratulations,” he gave me a hug. “Are you crying? Come here,” he gave me another hug.

“I didn’t think I’d cry,” I said.

“It’s gonna be okay.”

“I know.”

As we went on to find Mama and Daddy, ever-protective Sonya asked who he was. I replied that he was just an old friend that I hadn’t seen in a while. (Truth be told: I used to have a crush on him.) When we finally got near the concession stand, I saw a lot of my aunts and uncles and cousins and I saw a few brothers and sisters from the Collins Park Congregation. In about five minutes I must have gotten 40 hugs and 20 cards containing money put into my hands. We took pictures. I cried and cried. My cousin Monique said, “Dang Vicki stop cryin’!”

“I’m tryin’,” I laughed. But all the while I was thinking of Charles and of the dream graduation kiss. I also had to get my purse out of Aaron’s car. So I told Sonya that I was going to get my purse. I wiped away my tears. I found Ginny and Lee and asked if they knew where Charles was. They didn’t so I kept on looking as I walked towards the gate. I saw someone wearing a shirt that I had seen Charles wear once before standing outside of the gate. So I started to speedily walk towards the gate. I got stopped by my Uncle John and cousin Alea. I smiled and thanked them for giving me another envelop. After giving them both hugs, I kept on. When I reached the gate, I found that it was an older man wearing the shirt. So I looked around for him. I saw him talking to someone with his back turned towards me. I smiled. I walked up to him and tapped his shoulder, “Hey there mister, you’re not getting away without another hug.”

He smiled and we wrapped our arms around each other. I smiled and laid my head on his shoulder. But then the war raged on in my head. ‘Kiss him, kiss him, kiss him! No! No! What are you thinking? You can’t just kiss him. Just tell him goodbye and go get your purse. But he’s so wonderful. Wait we’ve been hugging each other for a long time now.’ I straighten up but still kept my arms up around his neck. I found myself face to face with him. All I had to do was move forward and I’d experience no I’d live my dream. He was smiling. I was looking into those shadowy black eyes that I had dreamt in. ‘I could do it. I could kiss him. He’s so patient with me. I could do it.’ But then I saw my dad the day that Meegan left in my head. That anger, that hurt, that disappointment. I remembered that Jehovah is always watching my actions. ‘I can’t.’  I looked away and backed away. He introduced me to his dad, the older gentlemen that was wearing Charles’ shirt, and to his cousin. “I better get going.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I don’t think so. I had forgotten that my aunt from Columbia came to see me so I’ll probably be doing some family thing. But I’ll call you on Monday.”

“Okay.”

I walked towards Aaron’s car. I was feeling full of mixed emotions. It was a good thing that I didn’t kiss him, but a bad thing that I told him I’d call him on Monday. I knew that if I were to kiss him that night, that the love that I already had for him would have quadrupled. And if it deepened that much, there was no way I’d be able to let him go. It turned out that Aaron drove off with my purse. So I had to walk back to the concession stand to catch up with my family. I saw my cousin Natalie on the way. “Hey girl,” she gave me a hug. She asked if Meegan came.

I replied, “No, I don’t even think she knew I was graduating today.”

She shook her head, “Well congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

My family and I went to Ryan’s. My cousin Alex (or Wolfe as he’s known around school) and his family were there also. We ate together along with my other cousin Julius and his mom (my aunt) Marydell. I took off my hat but was till wearing the robe unzipped. At the buffet bar, strangers were saying congratulations. I’d smile and say, “Thank you.” When we finished, my cousins and I went outside and I told them what happened Charles.  Maurice, that’s what I call Alex, kept on saying that the whole struggle was just proof that what Charles and I have is real.

I called Charles on Monday and the next few weeks after that. (Just once a week, when my parents were at work.) Sometimes we’d talk other times we just sit on the phone.

On Saturday after field service, my parents and I met with some friends at the small Chinese restaurant. The day before, I had received a message from the library that a book that I had been waiting to read had arrived. So after we finished eating, I asked if we could stop by the library so I could get it. They agreed. As I went up the stairs, I remembered that Charles was always at the library. (When I would call him, he was usually at the library.) I went inside and saw him sitting at one of the computers. Gladly his back was turned towards me. ‘Good. Now I can get the book and slip out without him ever seeing me.’  So I asked the librarian for the book and also showed her my card. It must have been a two maybe three minute wait. The second the book was in my hand and I turned around, I found myself face to face with Charles. (Well, more like face to chest. I don’t know why but that day he seemed to tower over me. I felt so little.) He scared the crap out of me. “Oh hi,” I nervously said.

“Hey. How are you?”

“I’m good. I have my book now,” I said showing him the cover. “Well, uh, I gotta go. I have a family reunion to go to.” My face ran hot.

“Okay, bye.”

“Bye.” On the outside, as I went outside to the van I appeared calm as if nothing unusual happened. But on the inside I was panicking. I didn’t want to see him that day especially not with my parents parked just yards away. I would have to lie to them again. When I called him I confessed that he had scared me that day.

During last week June, we went to Florence to attend the 2006 District Convention, “Deliverance at Hand.” It was on the second day that two of the talks really hit home with me. The talk was called “Foresee the Calamity and Conceal Yourself.” The brother spoke of the worlds temptations and that we need to avoid them. And that by simply thinking ahead of the possible consequences of our actions could in way protect from having to into it head first and feeling the results later. He gave warnings about six different things: viewing pornography, dating unbelievers, flirting, over indulging in food and drink, failing to control our speech, and pursuing materialistic goals. Of course it was the dating unbelievers that stuck out in my mind. He mentioned a point that I had never really thought about. He said that if you leave the truth to be with that person and later on down the line he or she accepted it and you were allowed back into the congregation, that you would still have to live with the guilt that you willing let down God just for your own self enjoyment. The guilt that you not only let the Almighty down, but also your friends and family in the congregation would weigh on your conscience. I hadn’t thought of that. The guilt.

Sonya used to tell me about some of the weird things that I used to do when I was little. I was the only child out of the four of us to actually ask for a beating. I remember one time specifically when I took the rhinestone out of my dad’s cufflinks and pretended like it was part of the buried treasure I had found. I let a week pass before I finally confessed and handed my dad the belt myself in tears. I was in tears because I felt guilty. It tore at my heart how hard he was looking for it. Just think about how much more guilt would destroy me if I let my friends, my family and even worse Jehovah down.

A week or two later, I got another horrible and violent stomach virus. (I had one earlier during school, but it wasn’t as bad as this one.) I didn’t call Charles that week; nor the next and never again. At first I didn’t call because I didn’t want to say. ‘Oh I was sick; so sick that I had to be hooked up to an IV because I was dehydrated.’ I would seem weak. I didn’t want him to think of me as being weak. Then I didn’t call because it was time to let him go. I prayed to Jehovah and promised him that I wouldn’t call Charles any more. I was starting to go out in field service regularly and reading the Bible regularly as well. I was trying to rebuild my relationship with Jehovah. I couldn’t do that if I still had this forbidden love in heart. I gave the CD that he had sent me during the summer to Sonya. I’m not exactly sure if she burned it or broke it or what. But one day, I got up the courage to take the letters that I had once cherished and got rid of them. I was afraid that if I put them in the trash that my parents might see it and read it. (Paranoid? Yes I was.) If I tore them up, then I’d just piece it back together again. The only way I could get rid the letters and the card was if I burned them. So that’s exactly what I did. I dumped the ashes in a place of the yard that I used to play at when I was little. “Goodbye Charles,” I said as they fell to the ground.

Although I thought I had put him out of my mind, I really didn’t. His name was constantly mentioned on television. (I noticed that most men with the name Charles are either doctors or good-natured strong men.) Out of the blue his face would appear in my head. If I closed my eyes, I’d find myself enveloped in his arms. Even when school started back (At Horry-Georgetown Technical College) and I’d be sitting in the library waiting to go to class, Charles would come and sit by me in the corner and listen to Ragtime or Miss Saigon with me. But then again he wasn’t really there. In reality, he was in Raleigh, North Carolina preparing to fulfill his dream of being a music producer.

I didn’t realize that he was gone until one day when my mom dropped me off at the library while she had to run a quick errand. All throughout the winter and fall, a new two story library was being built. And by the time that Charles had left the old library had closed. Anyways, as she drove off, I thought that maybe he might be inside or on his way here to the library. I walked up to the library doors and tried to open it but the door was locked. Then I looked at the sign on the door (which I should have done first) which read that this library was now closed and the new one would open in two weeks. I walked down the ramp and sat on the second set of stairs under the oak tree. The door there was locked too. I felt a tear roll gently down my cheek. It was all over. Or at the time I thought it was.

When I went to get my college ID, I was surprised to find Ginny sitting behind the desk taking the pictures and printing them out. We talked about our summers. I told her that I had kind of lost touch with Charles. She told me about how Lee basically broke off their relationship because he got the jitters of commitment. (It started back on the first of April when Ginny and Lee fooled Kayla into thinking that they were engaged. But then with people talking about it I guess Lee got afraid that that was what Ginny was expecting. It seems he doesn’t think much of Ginny’s wisdom.)

A few weeks later, she said that she had gotten an email from Charles and that he asked for mine. When she said that, I couldn’t hide my smile. I gave her my email and asked her for his. That’s when all of the emailing began at first it was just by Yahoo! then it moved to Myspace. Usually the emails were about school and day to day activities.  I shouldn’t have emailed him. All it did was make me think about him even more than I already did.

But deep down there were real reasons that I couldn’t let him go. I felt that I would never meet someone like him again. Charles had many of the qualities that I wanted my Big Dane to have. He’s smart, handsome, and has a love of music that even surpasses my own. (Which I didn’t know that such a love for music existed.) And knowing that he admires me made me feel beautiful. I felt so scared that I would turn back into the nothingness that I once was and felt. I felt something in my heart that I hadn’t felt before. It was a love so gentle and so patient. I couldn’t let it go. It would take more than just burning a few letters to forget it.

But he must be put out of my heart. After months of emailing back and forth, he asked about “us.” I replied that it was all up to him and if he could see himself being one of Jehovah’s Witnesses. In essence, he replied that he didn’t see the need to join an organization to become a witness of God because he already felt he was one. He used the words “petty and unnecessary” to describe that Jehovah’s Witnesses don’t date anyone from any other religion but their own. That angered me. So I replied back using the Israelites as an example of how Jehovah didn’t want His people to marry or date outside of our religion. I finished with “there is no us there is just a you and a me.” He replied that I should use my God given judgment and that he’ll stop talking to me just as I asked. At first I didn’t respond. I didn’t want to respond. But after a few weeks I responded back. I explained to him about marrying “only in the lord” and living a life independent of Jehovah’s guidelines. I offered to let him read this writing. He replied that he would be in town soon and asked a question about God’s name and whether or not it was important to use it.

Since you’re reading this I want to tell you that I’m glad that I got the chance to meet you. You made me see myself I mean really see myself. I’m not the big pile of nothingness that I once thought I was. I’m a smart and beautiful woman who can dance. I didn’t know that until you said it (rather wrote it). But on September 25, 2004, I made a formal dedication to serve Jehovah God and to put Him first in all aspects of my life. I couldn’t live up to it if I was in a relationship with some who doesn’t see the need of joining this worldwide Christian organization. I would let my parents, my sister, and all of my friends down. Even worse I’d be letting down Jehovah God Himself. I can’t live with that guilt. I would be just like my sister Meegan. I never want to be like her in any way. So this is goodbye.

She looks at her life now. She’s not sad. She’s not empty. She’s Victoria Renee Lee. A Jehovah’s Witness, a writer, and simply just me. I still dream of my Big Dane. Whether or not I've already met him I don't know. But what I have learned is to be patient. I know that I just needs to put my trust back in Jehovah. I felt that some how the fire of falsehoods had been put out. Although the smoke is still in the air, the shadow is gone. I feel light-spirited again. I still feel beautiful. I'm the girl that guys whistle at. I feel good about myself.

 

Reviews

[Wanda Philipps]

I enjoyed the story. It is a story that many women can identify with at some time in their lives. Very good.

[Nocturne]

Hi there,

I read through this and enjoyed it. It's a lovely story with an uplifting ending and message. I'm wondering, how much critique are you interested in getting on this piece? It looks like a finished piece, so if it's not a work-in-progress, I don't want to aggravate it by poking.

(Though just as a quickie, a couple things that jumped out were the switch in tenses (past-present), the first line "herself", and a few times I felt the language/prose could be tightened for stronger effect (rid of wordiness).)

If this is a WIP, tell me and I'll be glad to give a full critique on the piece. It deserves it.

Cheers for the read,
Naiya