The Young Man's Story - The First of the Nights

Excerpt from a novel of romance and danger in modern India, and the American Midwest.

In a land, and time, very far away there was a Young Man - well-bred and well brought up - who believed that love happened only once for each of us. That love belonged to True Lovers alone, and could not be feigned, or duplicated, or imitated.

 

He believed that the love of one, remarkable person would be like a compass for him, all his life: showing him the path he should follow.

 

Believing that even before he met her, the Young Man’s Magnetic North - unerring and true - was Roxanne: whom he first saw on an elementary school playground, standing with her back pressed against a majestic tree.

 

Normally self-conscious with girls, he felt a surge of certainty the moment he saw her. It was impossible to feel tense, or anxious, when he was close to her. If he had been older, he would have called it an Epiphany. And he could see Relief in her look, as well. She wanted him to approach. She wanted to know more about him.

 

-I like your coat, he said.

 

She said: -Thank you.

 

-Are you new?

 

-We just moved here. This is my second day.

 

He saw an opportunity to be clever.

 

-Thank you for moving here.

 

-You’re welcome, she said, instantly.

 

Although her house was not in the same direction he normally went to go home, the Young Man made it a point to wait for Roxanne after the final bell - and walk her to her door.

 

Just as he would make it a point to wait for her, and be with her, through all the milestones of youth in a small town: birthday parties, prom nights, Christmas pageants, graduations, sultry summers cruising to nowhere, the icy companionship of angry winters, outdoor movies, fireflies in the park.

 

As they packed for college - headed toward the same state school - he had the complete assurance that there was nothing about Roxanne that he didn’t know. Nothing about Roxanne that he didn’t like. Almost nothing that he wouldn’t do for her, if she asked.

 

He was also secure in the knowledge that she felt exactly the same way.

 

And she proved it. Once away from their parents, they spent the night under the same roof as often as possible. Sometimes in his tiny apartment. Sometimes in hers. He wanted them to be under the same roof all the time. But living together without marriage was impossible (their parents would never have gone along).

 

And marriage was impossible just then: because of the pressure to do well in school, and justify the sacrifices that their families were making.

 

They became caught up in student life - the Insistent Present - but stayed true to each other as they lived through new experiences, and made new friends, in the ragged and experimental atmosphere of a college campus.

 

As she always had: Roxanne made new friends easily, and bound them to herself tightly. She had 6 bridesmaids at her wedding. All of them completely devoted to her.

 

The Young Man - with the financial pressure of being married already in his mind - did not cast his social net as wide. But he did find a steadfast friend, Dustin (everyone called him -Dusty-) - who was in his 7th year of college (major undeclared), and who seemed to be savoring a lot of things about college other than classes.

 

Opposites generally attract, and Dusty’s loose and vacant approach to life, and school, and the future, (and just about everything) counterbalanced the Young Man’s concern and sense of obligation.

 

Dusty was rude and crude, on occasion - while the Young Man was careful not to hurt people, if he could help it. He had been taught to consider the feelings of others before his own.

 

The Young Man was pinching pennies, while Dusty seemed to think that money only solved the problems of the world if you spent it ... as fast as humanly possible. The Young Man worked 2 jobs in the summer months. No one knew what Dusty did during the summer. The Young Man had a sensible Chevy - paid for, in part, by his parents as a gift for his high school graduation. Dusty had bullet bike - a motorcycle as red a nosebleed - that he rode with a total sense of assurance: without a helmet, and without a care.

 

The two good-looking guys latched onto each other and - even though the Young Man occasionally felt more like a nanny than like a buddy - they visited each other’s homes on vacations, got drunk in the same bars, had the same soulful conversations that students have had since there have been students. Over the duration of their college years, they were in each other’s company almost every day.

 

The only dissenting vote to their -bromance- seemed to be Roxanne: who repeated, repeatedly, that Dusty was a shallow piece of work - going nowhere, with nowhere to go - grossly irresponsible - and a bad influence on everyone who had known ... knew ... and would know, him. She had nothing good to say about Dusty, and it all came to a head when marriage with Roxanne finally came into sight.

 

It was inevitable that Dusty be the Best Man. But, at that, Roxanne’s hostility to him went radioactive. She found it difficult to be in the same room: repeatedly excusing herself from proximity to him - while Dusty, with a shrug, reacted with a kind of fatalistic amusement.

 

-Not everybody likes everybody else, he would say. That’s just human nature.

 

The closer the wedding came, the more shrill Roxanne became.

 

-There’s too much pressure, she said. We shouldn’t be having such a big ceremony! This is costing my parents a fortune!

 

-It’s just people who all love us, the Young Man said. How can I help?

 

Roxanne pushed him away.

 

-Let me work through this on my own, she said. Just let me get through the ceremony, and used that as her explanation for seeing less and less of her future husband.

 

Sometimes they didn’t speak for days, and - when they did - it was all about the nuts and bolts of the Event. Chicken breasts and salmon. Candles and napkins. Folding chairs. Butterflies. Rice. Thank-you cards.

 

They no longer shared the same bed. She was too busy.

 

Trying to force himself to be happy, the Young Man’s mantra was that he had arrived at a Golden Time of his life. Marriage just around the corner. Honors showered on him because of his academic performance. A job offer from a multinational corporation. The Good Life was beginning. He would be married to his childhood sweetheart. He could climb the ladder of success without even leaving the state of Minnesota.

 

He knew how he should feel. Grateful, peaceful, secure.

 

That he didn’t feel that way wasn’t important. He had to be strong for Roxanne: who was having so much more trouble than he was. Under so much more pressure. He constantly reminded himself to be Nice to her. To be supportive. To give her the Benefit of the Doubt.

 

It was her wedding so much more than his.

 

Other people might have their doubts. Other people might be hinting that things were Not Quite Right. But he could never be doubtful, himself. His Trust needed to be unwavering: even as he stood at the altar and lifted the veil on a Roxanne - flushed, excited, and disheveled - who couldn’t seem to remember the words to their vows … who seemed to be, mentally, a million miles away on what she had often said would be the most important day of her life.

 

He wrote it off as just a case of nerves. Everyone is nervous on their wedding day.

 

He told himself that his Trust needed to be unwavering: even as he realized that not one of the bridesmaids would look him in the eye.

 

The mood that he kept glimpsing - as it floated through the church - was that someone was having a huge joke at his expense. Bridesmaids were laughing behind their bouquets. People were shaking their heads: disapproving the cruel trick that was being played out. Little clots of college buddies were sharing one-liners.

 

And, time after time, he caught Dusty and Roxanne, looking at each other. Then quickly looking away: as though sharing some secret, curious story.

 

Yet it always came back to Trust. Every wedding has its little curiosities, the Young Man told himself: because weddings are unusual situations - once in a lifetime, possibly - and people tend to behave in unusual ways in unusual situations.

 

Feelings were feelings ... but Trust was Trust.

 

Trusting in the benevolence of Life had given him everything he’d asked for.

 

Now it was time to enjoy the gifts that Life was going to offer.