天涯在线书库《www.tianyabook.com》
《A Walk to Remember》
Prologue
When I was seventeen, my life ged forever.
I know that there are people who wonder about me when I say this. They look at me strangely as if trying to fathom what could have happened back then, though 99lib?I seldom bother to explain. Because Ive lived here for most of my life, I dohat I have to unless its on my terms, and that would take more time than most people are willing to give me. My story t be summed up in two or three sentences; it t be packaged into somethi and simple that people would immediately uand. Despite the passage of forty years, the people still living here who knew me that year accept my lack of explanation without question. My story in some ways is their story because it was something that all of us lived through.
It was I, however, who was closest to it. Im fifty-seven years old, but even now I remember everything from that year, down to the smallest details. I relive that year often in my mind, bringing it back to life, and I realize that when I do, I always feel a strange bination of sadness and joy. There are moments when I wish I could roll back the clod take all the sadness away, but I have the feeling that if I did, the joy would be gone as well. So I take the memories as they e, accepting them all, letting them guide me whenever I . This happens more often than I let on.
It is April 12, in the last year before the millennium, and as I leave my house, I glance around. The sky is overcast and gray, but as I move dowreet, I notice that the dogwoods and azaleas are blooming. I zip my jacket just a little. The temperature is cool, though I know its only a matter of weeks before it will settle in to something fortable and the gray skies give way to the kind of days that make North Carolina one of the most beautiful places in the world. With a sigh, ?９９ｌｉｂ.I feel it all ing bae. I y eyes and the years begin to move in reverse, slowly tig backward, like the hands of a clock rotating in the wrong dire. As if through someone elses eyes, I watch myself grow younger; I see my hair ging from gray to brown, I feel the wrinkles around my eyes begin to smooth, my arms and legs grow sinewy. Lessons Ive learned with age grow dimmer, and my innoce returns as that eventful year approaches.
Then, lik.99lib.e me, the world begins to ge: roads narrow and some bee gravel, suburban sprawl has been replaced with farmland, downtown streets teem with people, looking in windows as they pass Sweeneys bakery and Palkas meat shop. Men wear hats, women wear dresses. At the courthouse up the street, the bell tower rings. . . .
I open my eyes and pause. I am standing outside the Baptist church, and when I stare at the gable, I kly who I am. My name is Landon Carter, and Im seventeen years old.
This is my story; I promise to leave nothing out.
First you will smile, and then you will cry-dont say you havent been warned.
Chapter 1
In 1958, Beaufort, North Carolina, which is located on the coast near Morehead City, lace like many other small southern towns. It was the kind of place where the humidity rose so high in the summer that walking out to get the mail made a person feel as if he needed a shower, and kids walked around barefoot from April through October beh oak trees draped in Spanish moss. People waved from their cars whehey saw someone oreet whether they knew him or not, and the air smelled of pine, salt, and sea, a st uo the Carolinas. For many of the people there, fishing in the Pamlico Sound or crabbing in the Neuse River was a way of life, and boats were moored wherever you saw the Intracoastal Waterway. Only three els came in oelevision, though television was never important to those of us who grew up there. Instead our lives were tered around the churches, of which there were eighteen withiown limits alohey went by names like the Fellowship Hall Christian Church, the Church of the Fiven People, the Church of Sunday Ato, and then, of course, there were the Baptist churches. When I was growing up, it was far and away the most popular denomination around, and there were Baptist churches on practically every er of town, though each sidered itself superior to the others. There were Baptist churches of every type-Freewill Baptists, Southern Baptists, gregational Baptists, Missionary Baptists, Indepe Baptists . . . well, you get the picture.
Back then, the big event of the year onsored by the Baptist church downtown-Southern, if you really want to know-in jun with the local high school. Every year they put on their Christmas pageant at the Beaufort Playhouse, which was actually a play that had been written by Hegbert Sullivan, a minister whod been with the church since Moses parted the Red Sea. Okay, maybe he wasnt that old, but he was old enough that you could almost see through the guys skin. It was sort of clammy all the time, and translut-kids would swear they actually saw the blood flowing through his veins-and his hair was as white as those bunnies you see iores arouer.
Anyway, he wrote this play called The Christmas Angel, because he didnt want to keep on perf that old Charles Dis classic A Christmas Carol. In his mind Scrooge was a heathen, who came to his redemption only because he saw ghosts, not angels-and who was to say whether theyd bee by God, anyway? And who was to say he would to his sinful ways if they hadnt bee directly from heaven? The play didly tell you in the end-it sort of plays into faith and all-but Hegbert didnt trust ghosts if they werent actually sent by God, which wasnt explained in plain language, and this was his big problem with it. A few years back hed ged the end of the play-sort of followed it up with his own version, plete with old man Scrooge being a preacher and all, heading off to Jerusalem to find the place where Jesus oaught the scribes. It didnt fly too well-not even to the gregation, who sat in the audiearing wide-eyed at the spectacle-and the neer said things like "Though it was certainly iing, it wasly the play weve all e to know and love. . . ."
So Hegbert decided to try his hand at writing his own play. Hed written his own sermons his whole life, and some of them, we had to admit, were actually iing, especially whealked about the "wrath of God ing down on the fornicators" and all that good stuff. That really got his blood boiling, Ill tell you, whealked about the fornicators. That was his real hot spot. When we were younger, my friends and I would hide behind the trees and shout, "Hegbert is a fornicator!" when we saw him walking dowreet, and wed giggle like idiots, like we were the wittiest creatures ever to inhabit the pla.
Old Hegbert, hed stop dead in his tracks and his ears would perk up-I swear to God, they actually moved-aurn this bright shade of red, like hed just drunk gasoline, and the big green veins in his neck would start stig out all over, like those maps of the Amazon River that you see in National Geographic. Hed peer from side to side, his eyes narrowing into slits as he searched for us, and then, just as suddenly, hed start to go pale again, back to that fishy skin, right before our eyes. Boy, it was something to watch, thats for sure.
So wed be hiding behind a tree and Hegbert (what kind of parents heir kid Hegbert, anyway?) would stand there waiting for us to give ourselves up, as if he thought wed be that stupid. Wed put our hands over our mouths to keep from laughing out loud, but somehow hed always zero in on us. Hed be turning from side to side, and theop, those beady eyes ing right at us, right through the tree. "I know who you are, Landon Carter," hed say, "and the Lord knows, too." Hed let that sink in for a minute or so, and then hed finally head off again, and during the sermon that weekeare right at us and say something like "God is merciful to children, but the children must be worthy as well." And wed sort of lower ourselves in the seats, not from embarrassment, but to hide a new round of giggles. Hegbert didnt uand us at all, which was really sort of strange, being that he had a kid and all. But then again, she was a girl. More on that, though, later.
Anyway, like I said, Hegbert wrote The Christmas Angel one year and decided to put on that play instead. The play itself wasnt bad, actually, which surprised everyohe first year it erformed. Its basically the story of a man who had lost his wife a few years back. This guy, Tom Thornton, used to be real religious, but he had a crisis of faith after his wife died during childbirth. Hes raising this little girl all on his own, but he hashe greatest father, and what the little girl really wants for Christmas is a special music box with an angel engraved on top, a picture of which shed cut out from an old catalog. The guy searches long and hard to find the gift, but he t find it anywhere. So its Christmas Eve aill searg, and while hes out looking through the stores, he es across a strange woman hes never seen before, and she promises to help him find the gift for his daughter. First, though, they help this homeless person (back then they were called bums, by the way), theop at an orphao see some kids, then visit a lonely old woman who just wanted some pany on Christmas Eve. At this point the mysterious woman asks Tom Thornton what he wants for Christmas, and he says that he wants his wife back. She brings him to the city fountain and tells him to look ier and hell find what hes looking for. When he looks ier, he sees the face of his little girl, and he breaks down and cries right there. While hes sobbing, the mysterious lady runs off, and Tom Thornton searches but t find her anywhere. Eventually he heads home, the lessons from the evening playing in his mind. He walks into his little girls room, and her sleeping figure makes him realize that shes all he has left of his wife, aarts tain because he knows he hasnt been a good enough father to her. The m, magically, the music box is underh the tree, and the ahats engraved on it looks exactly like the woman hed seen the night before.
So it wasnt that bad, really. If truth be told, people cried buckets whehey saw it. The play sold out every year it erformed, and due to its popularity, Hegbert eventually had to move it from the church to the Beaufort Playhouse, which had a lot more seating. By the time I was a senior in high school, the performances ran twice to packed houses, which, sidering who actually performed it, was a story in and of itself.
You see, Hegbert wanted young people to perform the play-seniors in high school, not the theater group. I re he thought it would be a good learning experience before the seniors headed off to college and came face-to-face with all the fornicators. He was that kind of guy, you know, always wanting to save us from temptation. He wanted us to know that God is out there watg you, even when youre away from home, and that if you put your trust in God, youll be all right in the end. It was a lesson that I would eventually learn in time, though it wasnt Hegbert who taught me.
As I said before, Beaufort was fairly typical as far as southern tow, though it did have an iing history. Blackbeard the pirate once owned a house there, and his ship, Queen Annes Revenge, is supposedly buried somewhere in the sand just offshore. Retly some archaeologists or oographers or whoever looks for stuff like that said they found it, but no ones certain just yet, being that it sank over 250 years ago and you t exactly reato the glove partment and check the registration. Beauforts e a long way sihe 1950s, but its still ly a major metropolis or anything. Beaufort was, and always will be, on the smallish side, but when I was growing up, it barely warranted a pla the map. To put it into perspective, the gressional district that included Beaufort covered the entire eastern part of the state-some twenty thousand square miles-and there wasnt a siown with more thay-five thousand people. Even pared with those towns, Beaufort was regarded as being on the small side. Everythi of Raleigh and north of Wilmington, all the way to the Virginia border, was the district my father represented.
I suppose youve heard of him. Hes sort of a legend, even now. His name is Worth Carter, and he was a gressman for almost thirty years. His slogan every other year during the ele season was "Worth Carter represents ---," and the person was supposed to fill iy name where he or she lived. I remember, driving on trips when me and Mom had to make our appearao show the people he was a true family man, that wed see those bumper stickers, stenciled in with names like Otway and Choity and Seven Springs. Nowadays stuff like that wouldnt fly, but back then that was fairly sophisticated publicity. I imagine if he tried to do that now, people opposing him would i all sorts of foul language in the blank space, but we never saw it once. Okay, maybe once. A farmer from Duplin ty once wrote the word shit in the blank space, and when my mom saw it, she covered my eyes and said a prayer asking for fiveness for the pnorant bastard. She didnt say exactly those words, but I got the gist of it.
So my father, Mr. gressman, was a bigwig, and everyo everyone k, including old man Hegbert. Now, the two of them did along, not at all, despite the fact that my father went to Hegberts church whenever he was in town, which to be frank wasnt all that often. Hegbert, in addition to his belief that fornicators were destio the urinals in hell, also believed that unism was "a siess that doomed mankind to heathenhood." Even though heathenhood wasnt a word-I t find it in any diary-the gregation knew what he meant. They also khat he was direg his words specifically to my father, who would sit with his eyes closed and pretend not to listen. My father was on one of the House ittees that oversaw the "Red influence" supposedly infiltrating every aspect of the try, including national defense, higher education, and even tobacc. You have to remember that this was during the cold war; tensions were running high, and we North Carolinians needed something t it down to a more personal level. My father had sistently looked for facts, which were irrelevant to people like Hegbert. Afterward, when my father would e home after the service, hed say something like "Reverend Sullivan was in rare form today. I hope you heard that part about the Scripture where Jesus was talking about the poor. . . ."
Yeah, sure, Dad. . . .
My father tried to defuse situations whenever possible. I think thats why he stayed in gress for so long. The guy could kiss the ugliest babies known to mankind and still e up with something o say. "Hes such a gentle child," hed say when a baby had a giant head, or, "Ill bet shes the sweetest girl in the world," if she had a birthmark over her entire face. Oime a lady showed up with a kid in a wheelchair. My father took one look at him and said, "Ill bet you ten to ohat youre smartest kid in your class." And he was! Yeah, my father was great at stuff like that. He could fling it with the best of em, thats for sure. And he wasnt such a bad guy, not really, especially if you sider the fact that he did me or anything. But he wasnt there for me growing up. I hate to say that because noeople claim that sort of stuff even if their parent was around and use it to excuse their behavior. My dad . . . he didnt love me . . . thats why I became a stripper and performed on The Jerry Springer Show. . . . Im not using it to excuse the person Ive bee, Im simply saying it as a fact. My father was gone nine months of the year, living out of town in a Washington, D.C., apartment three hundred miles away. My mother didnt go with him because both of them wanted me to grow up "the same way they had."
Of course, my fathers father took him hunting and fishing, taught him to play ball, showed up for birthday parties, all that small stuff that adds up to quite a bit before adulthood. My father, oher hand, was a stranger, someone I barely k all. For the first five years of my life I thought all fathers lived somewhere else. It wasnt until my best friend, Eriter, asked me in kindergarten who that guy was who showed up at my house the night before that I realized something wasnt quite right about the situation.
"Hes my father," I said proudly.
"Oh," Eric said as he rifled through my lunchbox, looking for my Milky Way, "I didnt know you had a father."
Talk about something whag you straight in the face.
So, I grew up uhe care of my mother. Now she was a nice lady, sweet ale, the kind of mother most people dream about. But she wasnt, nor could she ever be, a manly influen my life, and that fact, coupled with my growing disillusio with my father, made me bee something of a rebel, even at a young age. Not a bad one, mind you. Me and my friends might sneak out late and soap up car windows now and then or eat boiled peanuts in the graveyard behind the church, but in the fifties that was the kind of thing that made other parents shake their heads and whisper to their children, "You dont want to be like that Carter boy. Hes on the fast track to prison."
Me. A bad boy. For eating boiled peanuts in the graveyard. Go figure.
Anyway, my father and Hegbert did along, but it wasnt only because of politio, it seems that my father and Hegbert knew each other from way back when. Hegbert was about twenty years older than my father, and back before he was a minister, he used to work for my fathers father. My grandfather-even though he spent lots of time with my father-was a true bastard if there ever was one. He was the one, by the way, who made the family fortune, but I dont want you to imagine him as the sort of man who slaved over his business, w diligently and watg it grow, pr slowly over time. My grandfather was much shrewder than that. The way he made his money was simple-he started as a bootlegger, accumulatih throughout Prohibition by running rum up from Cuba. Then he began buying land and hiring sharecroppers to work it. He took y pert of the mohe sharecroppers made oobacco crop, then loahem money whehey at ridiculous i rates. Of course, he never inteo collect the money-instead he would foreclose on any land or equipment they happeo own. Then, in what he called "his moment of inspiration," he started a bank called Carter Banking and Loan. The only other bank in a two-ty radius had mysteriously burned down, and with the o of the Depression, it never reopehough everyone knew what had really happened, not a word was ever spoken for fear of retribution, and their fear was well placed. The bank wasnt the only building that had mysteriously burned down.
His i rates were eous, and little by little he began amassing more land and property as people defaulted on their loans. When the Depression hit hardest, he foreclosed on dozens of busihroughout the ty while retaining the inal owo tio work on salary, paying them just enough to keep them where they were, because they had nowhere else to go. He told them that when the ey improved, hed sell their business back to them, and people always believed him.
Never once, however, did he keep his promise. In the end he trolled a vast portion of the tys ey, and he abused his clout in every way imaginable.
Id like to tell you he eventually went to a terrible death, but he didnt. He died at a ripe-old age while sleeping with his mistress on his yacht off the Cayman Islands. Hed outlived both his wives and his only son. Some end fuy like that, huh? Life, Ive learned, is never fair. If people teaything in school, that should be it.
But back to the story. . . . Hegbert, once he realized what a bastard my grandfather really was, quit w for him a into the ministry, then came back to Beaufort and started ministering in the same church we attended. He spent his first feerfeg his fire-and-brimsto with monthly sermons on the evils of the greedy, and this left him st time for anything else. He was forty-three before he ever got married; he was fifty-five when his daughter, Jamie Sullivan, was born. His wife, a wispy little thing twenty years youhan he, went through six miscarriages before Jamie was born, and in the end she died in childbirth, making Hegbert a ho had to raise a daughter on his own.
Hence, of course, the story behind the play.
People khe story even before the play was first performed. It was one of those stories that made its rounds whenever Hegbert had to baptize a baby or attend a funeral. Everyone knew about it, and thats why, I think, so many people got emotional whehey saw the Christmas play. They k was based on something that happened in real life, which gave it special meaning.
Jamie Sullivan was a senior in high school, just like me, and shed already been chosen to play the angel, not that anyone else even had a ce. This, of course, made the play extra special that year. It was going to be a big deal, maybe the biggest ever-at least in Miss Garbers mind. She was the drama teacher, and she was already glowing about the possibilities the first time I met her in class.
Now, I hadnt really planned on taking drama that year. I really hadnt, but it was either that or chemistry II. The thing was, I thought it would be a blow-off class, especially when pared with my other option. No papers, s, no tables where Id have to memorize protons arons and bine elements in their proper formulas . . . what could possibly be better for a high school senior? It seemed like a sure thing, and when I signed up for it, I thought Id just be able to sleep through most every class, which, sidering my late night peaing, was fairly important at the time.
On the first day of class I was one of the last to arrive, ing in just a few seds before the bell rang, and I took a seat in the back of the room. Miss Garber had her back turo the class, and she was busy writing her name in big cursive letters, as if we didnt know who she was. Everyone knew her-it was impossible not to. She was big, at least six feet two, with flaming red hair and pale skin that showed her freckles well into her forties. She was also ht-Id say holy she pushed two fifty-and she had a fondness for wearing flower-patterned muumuus. She had thick, dark, horn-rimmed glasses, and she greeted every oh, "Helloooooo," sort of singing the last syllable. Miss Garber was one of a kind, thats for sure, and she was single, which made it even worse. A guy, no matter how old, couldnt help but feel sorry fal like her.
Beh her name she wrote the goals she wao aplish that year. "Self-fidence" was number one, followed by "Self-awareness" and, third, "Self-fulfillment." Miss Garber was big into the "self" stuff, which put her really ahead of the curve as far as psychotherapy is ed, though she probably didnt realize it at the time. Miss Garber ioneer in that field. Maybe it had something to do with the way she looked; maybe she was just trying to feel better about herself.
But I digress.
It wasnt until the class started that I noticed something unusual. Though Beaufort High School wasnt large, I knew for a fact that it retty much split fifty-fifty between males and females, which was why I was surprised when I saw that this class was at least y pert female. There was only oher male in the class, whiy thinking was a good thing, and for a moment I felt flush with a "look out world, here I e" kind of feeling. Girls, girls, girls . . . I couldnt help but think. Girls and girls and s in sight.
Okay, so I wasnt the most forward-thinking guy on the block.
So Miss Garber brings up the Christmas play and tells everyohat Jamie Sullivan is going to be the ahat year. Miss Garber started clapping right away-she was a member of the church, too-and there were a lot of people who thought she was gunning fbert in a romantic sort of way. The first time I heard it, I remember thinking that it was a good thing they were too old to have children, if they ever did get together. Imagiranslut with freckles? The very thought gave everyone shudders, but of course, no one ever said anything about it, at least within hearing distaniss Garber and Hegbert. Gossip is ohing, hurtful gossip is pletely another, and even in high s藏书网chool we werent that mean.
Miss Garber kept on clapping, all alone for a while, until all of us finally joined in, because it was obvious that was what she wanted. "Stand up, Jamie," she said. So Jamie stood up and turned around, and Miss Garber started clapping even faster, as if she were standing in the presence of a bona fide movie star.
Now Jamie Sullivan was a nice girl. She really was. Beaufort was small enough that it had only one elementary school, so wed been in the same classes our entire lives, and Id be lying if I said I alked to her. Once, in sed grade, shed sat in the seat right o me for the whole year, and wed even had a few versations, but it didhat I spent a lot of time hanging out with her in my spare time, even back then. Who I saw in school was ohing; who I saw after school was something pletely different, and Jamie had never been on my social dar.
Its not that Jamie was unattractive-do me wrong. She wasnt hideous or anything like that. Fortunately shed taken after her mother, who, based on the pictures Id seen, wasnt half-bad, especially sidering who she ended up marrying. But Jamie wasly what I sidered attractive, either. Despite the fact that she was thin, with honey blond hair and soft blue eyes, most of the time she looked sort of . . . plain, and that was when you noticed her at all. Jamie didnt care much about outward appearances, because she was always looking for things like "inner beauty," a..nd I suppose thats part of the reason she looked the way she did. For as long as Id known her-and this was going way back, remember-shed always worn her hair in a tight bun, almost like a spinster, without a stitakeup on her face. Coupled with her usual brown cardigan and plaid skirt, she always looked as though she were on her way to interview for a job at the library. We used to think it was just a phase and that shed eventually grow out of it, but she never had. Even through our first three years of high school, she hadnt ged at all. The only thing that had ged was the size of her clothes.
But it wasnt just the way Jamie looked that made her different; it was also the way she acted. Jamie didnt spend any time hanging out at Cecils Diner oing to slumber parties with irls, and I knew for a fact that shed never had a boyfriend her entire life. Old Hegbert would probably have had a heart attack if she had. But even if by some odd turn of events Hegbert had allowed it, it still wouldnt have mattered. Jamie carried her Bible wherever she went, and if her looks and Hegbert didhe boys away, the Bible sure as heck did. Now, I liked the Bible as much as the eenage boy, but Jamie seemed to enjoy it in a way that was pletely fn to me. Not only did she go to vacation Bible school every August, but she would read the Bible during lunch break at school. In my mind that just wasnt normal, even if she was the ministers daughter. No matter how you sliced it, reading Pauls letters to the Ephesians wasnt nearly as much fun as flirting, if you know what I mean.
But Jamie didnt stop there. Because of all her Bible reading, or maybe because of Hegberts influence, Jamie believed it was important to help others, and helping others is exactly what she did. I knew she volunteered at the orphanage in Morehead City, but for her that simply wasnt enough. She was always in charge of one fund-raiser or another, helping everyone from the Boy Scouts to the Indian Princesses, and I know that when she was fourteen, she spent part of her summer painting the outside of an elderly neighbors house. Jamie was the kind of girl who would pull weeds in someones garden without being asked or stop traffic to help little kids cross the road. Shed save her allowao buy a new basketball for the orphans, or shed turn around and drop the money into the church basket on Sunday. She was, in other words, the kind of girl who made the rest of us look bad, and whenever she glanced my way, I couldnt help but feel guilty, even though I hadnt done anything wrong.
Nor did Jamie limit her good deeds to people. If she ever came across a wounded animal, for instance, shed try to help it, too. Opossums, squirrels, dogs, cats, frogs . . . it didnt matter to her. Dr. Rawlings, the vet, knew her by sight, and hed shake his head whenever he saw her walking up to the door carrying a cardboard box with yet another critter inside. Hed take off his eyeglasses and wipe them with his handkerchief while Jamie explained how shed found the poor creature and what had happeo it. "He was hit by a car, Dr. Rawlings. I think it was in the Lords plan to have me find him and try to save him. Youll help me, wont you?"
With Jamie, everything was in the Lords plan. That was ahing. She always mentiohe Lords plan whenever you talked to her, no matter what the subject. The baseball games rained out? Must be the Lords plan to prevent something worse from happening. A surprise trigory quiz that everyone in class fails? Must be in the Lords plan to give us challenges. Anyway, you get the picture.
Then, of course, there was the whole Hegbert situation, and this didnt help her at all. Being the ministers daughter couldnt have been easy, but she made it seem as if it were the most natural thing in the world and that she was lucky to have been blessed in that way. Thats how she used to say it, too. "Ive been so blessed to have a father like mine." Whenever she said it, all we could do was shake our heads and wonder la she actually came from.
Despite all these other strikes, though, the ohing that really drove me crazy about her was the fact that she was always so damn cheerful, no matter what was happening around her. I swear, that girl never said a bad thing about anything or anyone, even to those of us who werent that o her. She would hum to herself as she walked dowreet, she would wave ters driving by in their cars. Sometimes ladies would e running out of their house if they saw her walking by, her pumpkin bread if theyd been baking all day or lemonade if the sun was high in the sky. It seemed as if every adult in town adored her. "Shes such a nice young lady," theyd say whenever Jamies name came up. "The world would be a better place if there were more people like her."
But my friends and I didnt quite see it that way. In our minds, one Jamie Sullivan lenty.
I was thinking about all this while Jamie stood in front of us on the first day of drama class, and I admit that I wasnt muterested in seeing her. But strangely, when Jamie turo face us, I kind of got a shock, like I was sitting on a loose wire or something. She wore a plaid skirt with a white blouse uhe same brown cardigaer Id seen a million times, but there were two new bumps on her chest that the sweater couldnt hide that I swore hadhere just three months earlier. Shed never worn makeup and she still didnt, but she had a tan, probably from Bible school, and for the first time she looked-well, almost pretty. Of course, I dismissed that thought right away, but as she looked around the room, she stopped and smiled right at me, obviously glad to see that I was in the class. It wasnt until later that I would learn the reason why.
Chapter 2
After high school I plao go to the Uy of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. My father wanted me to go to Harvard or Prion like some of the sons of other gressmen did, but with my grades it wasnt possible. Not that I was a bad student. I just didnt foy studies, and my grades werely up to snuff for the Ivy Leagues. By my senior year it retty much toud go whether Id eve accepted at UNd this was my fathers alma mater, a place where he could pull some strings. During one of his few weekends home, my father came up with the plan to put me over the top. Id just finished my first week of school and we were sitting down for dinner. He was home for three days on at of Labor Day weekend. "I think you should run for student body president," he said. "Youll be graduating in June, and I think it would look good on your record. Your mother thinks so, too, by the way."
My mother nodded as she chewed a mouthful of peas. She didnt speak much when my father had the floor, though she wi me. Sometimes I think my mother liked to see me squirm, even though she was sweet.
"I dont think Id have a ce at winning," I said. Though I robably the richest kid in school, I was by no means the most popular. That honor beloo Eriter, my best friend. He could throw a baseball at almost y miles an hour, and hed led the football team to back-to-back state titles as the star quarterback. He was a stud. Even his name sounded cool.
"Of course you win," my father said quickly. "We Carters always win."
Thats another one of the reasons I didnt like spending time with my father. During those few times he was home, I think he wao mold me into a miniature version of himself. Since Id grown up pretty much without him, Id e to resent having him around. This was the first versation wed had in weeks. He rarely talked to me on the phone.
"But what if I dont want to?"
My father put down his fork, a bite of his pork chop still oines. He looked at me crossly, givihe once-over. He was wearing a suit even though it was hty degrees in the house, and it made him even more intimidating. My father always wore a suit, by the way.
"I think," he said slowly, "that it would be a good idea."
I khat whealked that way the issue was settled. Thats the way it was in my family. My fathers word was law. But the fact was, even after I agreed, I didnt want to do it. I didnt want to waste my afternooing with teachers after school-after school!-every week for the rest of the year, dr藏书网eaming up themes for school dances to decide what colors the streamers should be. Thats really all the class presidents did, at least back when I was in high school. It wasnt like students had the power to actually decide anything meaningful.
But then again, I knew my father had a point. If I wao go to UNC, I had to do something. I didnt play football or basketball, I didnt play an instrument, I wasnt in the chess club or the bowling club or anything else. I didnt excel in the classroom-hell, I didnt excel at much of anything. Growing despo, I started listing the things I actually could do, but to be ho, there really wasnt that much. I could tie eight different types of sailing knots, I could walk barefoot across hot asphalt farther than anyone I knew, I could balance a pencil vertically on my finger for thirty seds . . . but I didnt think that any of those things would really stand out on a college application. So there I was, lying in bed all night long, slowly ing to the sinking realization that I was a loser. Thanks, Dad.
The m I went to the principals offid added my o the list of didates. There were two other people running-John Foreman and Maggie Brown. Now, John didnt stand a ce, I khat right off. He was the kind of guy whod pick lint off your clothes while he talked to you. But he was a good student. He sat in the front row and raised his hand every time the teacher asked a question. If he was called to give the answer, he would almost always give the right one, aurn his head from side to side with a smug look on his face, as if proving how superior his intellect was when pared with those of the other peons in the room. Erid I used to shoot spitballs at him wheeachers back was turned.
Maggie Brown was another matter. She was a good student as well. Shed served oudent cil for the first three years and had been the junior class president the year before. The only real strike against her was the fact that she wasnt very attractive, and shed put oy pounds that summer. I khat not a single guy would vote for her.
After seeing the petition, I figured that I might have a ce after all. My eure was on the line here, so I formulated my strategy. Eric was the first to agree.
"Sure, Ill get all the guys oeam to vote for you, no problem. If thats what you really want."
"How about their girlfriends, too?" I asked.
That retty much my entire campaign. Of course, I went to the debates like I was supposed to, and I passed out those dorky "What Ill do if Im elected president" fliers, but in the end it was Eriter who probably got me where I o be. Beaufort High School had only about four huudents, so getting the athletic vote was critical, and most of the jocks didnt give a hoot who they voted for anyway. In the end it worked out just the way I planned.
I was voted student body president with a fairly large majority of the vote. I had no idea what trouble it would eventually lead me to.
When I was a junior I went steady with a girl named Angela Clark. She was my first real girlfriend, though it lasted for only a few months. Just before school let out for the summer, she dumped me fuy named Leas twenty years old and worked as a mei his fathers garage. His primary attribute, as far as I could tell, was that he had a really nice car. He always wore a white T-shirt with a pack of Camels folded into the sleeve, and hed lean against the hood of his Thunderbird, looking bad forth, saying things like "Hey, baby" whenever a girl walked by. He was a real winner, if you know what I mean.
Well, anyway, the homeing dance was ing up, and because of the whole Angela situation, I still didnt have a date. Everyone oudent cil had to attend-it was mandatory. I had to help decorate the gym and up the day-and besides, it was usually a pretty good time. I called a couple of girls I knew, but they already had dates, so I called a few more. They had dates, too. By the final week the pigs were getting pretty slim. The pool was down to the kinds of girls who had thick glasses and talked with lisps. Beaufort was never exactly a hotbed for beauties anyway, but then again I had to find somebody. I didnt want to go to the dahout a date-what would that ?look like? Id be the only student body president ever to attend the homeing dance alone. Id end up being the guy scooping punch all night long or mopping up the barf ihroom. Thats eople without dates usually did.
Growing sort of panicky, I pulled out the yearbook from the year before and started flipping through the pages one by one, looking for anyone who might not have a date. First I looked through the pages with the seniors. Though a lot of them were off at college, a few of them were still around town. Even though I didnt think I had much of a ce with them, I called anyway, and sure enough, I roven right. I couldnt find a least not anyone who would go with me. I was getting pretty good at handliion, Ill tell you, though thats not the sort of thing y about to yrandkids. My mom knew what I was going through, and she finally came into my room and sat on the bed beside me.
"If you t get a date, Ill be happy to go with you," she said.
"Thanks, Mom," I said dejectedly.
When she left the room, I felt even worse than I had before. Even my mom didnt think I could find somebody. And if I showed up with her? If I lived a hundred years, Id never live that down.
There was anuy in my boat, by the way. Carey Dennison had beeed treasurer, aill didnt have a date, either. Carey was the kind of guy no one wao spend time with at all, and the only reason hed beeed was because hed run unopposed. Even then I think the vote was fairly close. He played the tuba in the marg band, and his body looked all out of proportion, as if hed stopped growing halfway through puberty. He had a great big stomad gangly arms and legs, like the Hoos in Hooville, if you know what I mean. He also had a high-pitched way of talking-its what made him such a good tuba player, I re-and he opped asking questions. "Where did you go last weekend? Was it fun? Did you see any girls?" He wouldnt even wait for an answer, and hed move around stantly as he asked so you had to keep turning your head to keep him in sight. I swear he robably the most annoying person Id ever met. If I did a date, hed stand off on one side with me all night long, firing questions like some deranged prosecutor.
So there I was, flipping through the pages in the junior class se, when I saw Jamie Sullivans picture. I paused for just a sed, then turhe page, cursing myself for even thinking about it. I spent the hour searg for anyone halfway det looking, but I slowly came to the realization that there wasnt anyo. In time I finally turned back to her picture and looked again. She wasnt bad looking, I told myself, and shes really sweet. Shed probably say yes, I thought. . . .
I closed the yearbook. Jamie Sullivan? Hegbe..s daughter? No way. Absolutely not. My friends would roast me alive.
But pared with dating your mother or ing up puke or even, God forbid . . Carey Dennison?
I spent the rest of the eveniing the pros and s of my dilemma. Believe me, I went bad forth for a while, but in the end the choice was obvious, even to me. I had to ask Jamie to the dance, and I paced around the room thinking of the best way to ask her.
It was then that I realized something terrible, something absolutely frightening. Carey Dennison, I suddenly realized, robably doing the exact same thing I was doing right now. He robably looking through the yearbook, too! He was weird, but he wasnt the kind of guy who liked ing up puke, either, and if youd seen his mother, youd know that his choice was even worse than mine. What if he asked Jamie first? Jamie wouldnt say no to him, and realistically she was the only option he had. No one besides her would be caught dead with him. Jamie helped everyone-she was one of those equal opportunity saints. Shed probably listen to Careys squeaky voice, see the goodness radiating from his heart, and accept right off the bat.
So there I was, sitting in my room, frantic with the possibility that Jamie might not go to the dah me. I barely slept that night, I tell you, which was just about the strahing Id ever experienced. I dont think anyone ever fretted about asking Jamie out before. I plao ask her first thing in the m, while I still had my ce, but Jamie wasnt in school. I assumed she was w with the orphans over in Morehead City, the way she did every month. A few of us had tried to get out of school using that excuse, too, but Jamie was the only one who ever got away with it. The principal knew she was reading to them or doing crafts or just sitting around playing games with them. She wasnt sneaking out to the beach or hanging out at Cecils Diner or anything. That cept was absolutely ludicrous.
"Got a date yet?" Eric asked me iween classes. He knew very well that I didnt, but even though he was my best friend, he liked to stick it to me on a while.
"Not yet," I said, "but Im w on it."
Down the hall, Carey Denison was reag into his locker. I swear he shot me a beady glare whehought I wasnt looking.
Thats the kind of day it was.
The miicked by slowly during my final class. The way I figured it-if Carey and I got out at the same time, Id be able to get to her house first, what with those gawky legs and all. I started to psych myself up, and when the bell rang, I took off from school running at a full clip. I was flying for about a hundred yards or so, and then I started to get kind of tired, and then a cramp set in. Pretty soon all I could do was walk, but that cramp really started to get to me, and I had to bend over and hold my side while I kept moving. As I made my way dowreets of Beaufort, I looked like a wheezing version of the Hunchback of Notre Dame.
Behihought I heard Careys high-pitched laughter. I turned around, digging my fingers into my gut to stifle the pain, but I couldnt see him. Maybe he was cutting through someones backyard! He was a sneaky bastard, that guy. You couldnt trust him even for a minute.
I started to stumble along even faster, and pretty soon I reached Jamies street. By then I was sweating all over-my shirt was soaked right through-and I was still wheezing something fierce. Well, I reached her front door, took a sed to catch my breath, and finally knocked. Despite my fevered rush to her house, my pessimistic side assumed that Carey would be the one who opehe door for me. I imagined him smiling at me with a victorious look in his eye, ohat essentially meant "Sorry, partner, youre too late."
But it wasnt Carey who answered, it was Jamie, and for the first time in my life I saw what shed look like if she were an ordinary person. She was wearing jeans and a red blouse, and though her hair was still pulled up into a bun, she looked more casual than she usually did. I realized she could actually ..be cute if she gave herself the opportunity.
"Landon," she said as she held open the door, "this is a surprise!" Jamie was always glad to see everyone, includihough I think my appearaartled her. "You look like youve been exerg," she said.
"Not really," I lied, wiping my brow. Luckily the cramp was fading fast.
"Youve sweat through your shirt."
"Oh, that?" I looked at my shirt. "Thats nothing. I just sweat a lot sometimes."
"Maybe you should have it checked by a doctor."
"Ill be okay, Im sure."
"Ill say a prayer for you anyway," she offered as she smiled. Jamie was alraying for someone. I might as well join the club.
"Thanks," I said.
She looked down and sort of shuffled her feet for a moment. "Well, Id invite you in, but my father isnt home, and he doesnt allow boys in the house while hes not around."
"Oh," I said dejectedly, "thats okay. We talk out here, I guess." If Id had my way, I would have dohis inside.
"Would you like some lemonade while we sit?" she asked. "I just made some."
"Id love some," I said.
"Ill be right back." She walked bato the house, but she left the door open and I took a quick glance around. The house, I noticed, was small but tidy, with a piano against one wall and a sofa against the other. A small fan sat oscillating in the er. On the coffee table there were books with names like Listening to Jesus and Faith Is the Answer. Her Bible was there, too, and it eo the chapter on Luke.
A moment later Jamie returned with the lemonade, aook a seat in two chairs he er of the porch. I knew she and her father sat there in the evenings because I passed by their house now and then. As soon as we were seated, I saw Mrs. Hastings, her neighbor across the street, wave to us. Jamie waved back while I sort of scooted my chair so that Mrs. Hastings couldnt see my face. Even though I was going to ask Jamie to the dance, I didnt want anyone-even Mrs. Hastings-to see me there on the off ce that shed already accepted Careys offer. It was ohing to actually go with Jamie, it was ahing to be rejected by her in favor of a guy like Carey.
"What are you doing?" Jamie asked me. "Youre moving your chair into the sun."
"I like the sun," I said. She was right, though. Almost immediately I could feel the rays burning through my shirt and making me sweat again.
"If thats what you want," she said, smiling. "So, what did you want to talk to me about?"
Jamie reached up and started to adjust her hair. By my reing, it hadnt moved at all. I took a deep breath, trying to gather myself, but I couldnt force myself to e out with it just yet.
"So," I said instead, "you were at the orphaoday?"
Jamie looked at me curiously. "No. My father and I were at the doctors office."
"Is he okay?"
She smiled. "Healthy as be."
I nodded and glanced across the street. Mrs. Hastings had gone baside, and I couldnt see anyone else in the viity. The coast was finally clear, but I still wasnt ready.
"Sure is a beautiful day," I said, stalling.
"Yes, it is."
"Warm, too."
"Thats because youre in the sun."
I looked around, feeling the pressure building. "Why, Ill bet theres not a single cloud in the whole sky."
This time Jamie didnt respond, a in silence for a few moments.
"Landon,"..; she finally said, "you didnt e here to talk about the weather, did you?"
"Not really."
"Then why are you here?"
The moment of truth had arrived, and I cleared my throat.
"Well . . . I wao know if you were going to the homeing dance."
"Oh," she said. Her tone made it seem as if she were unaware that such a thied. I fidgeted in my seat and waited for her answer.
"I really hadnt planned on going," she finally said.
"But if someone asked you to go, you might?"
It took a moment for her to answer.
"Im not sure," she said, thinking carefully. "I suppose I might go, if I got the ce. Ive never been to a homeing dance before."
"Theyre fun," I said quickly. "Not too much fun, but fun." Especially when pared to my other options, I didnt add.
She smiled at my turn of phrase. "Id have to talk to my father, of course, but if he said it was okay, then I guess I could."
Iree beside the porch, a bird started to chirp noisily, as if he knew I wasnt supposed to be here. I trated on the sound, trying to calm my nerves. Just two days ago I couldnt have imagined myself even thinking about it, but suddenly there I was, listening to myself as I spoke the magic words.
"Well, would you like to go to the dah me?"
I could tell she was surprised. I think she believed that the little lead-up to the question probably had to do with someone else asking her. Sometimes teenagers sent their friends out to "scout the terrain," so to speak, so as not to face possible reje. Even though Jamie wasnt much like other teenagers, Im sure she was familiar with the cept, at least in theory.
Instead of answering right away, though, Jamie glanced away for a long moment. I got a sinking feeling in my stomach because I assumed she was going to say no. Visions of my mother, puke, and Carey flooded through my mind, and all of a sudden I regretted the way Id behaved toward her all these years. I kept remembering all the times Id teased her or called her father a fornicator or simply made fun of her behind her back. Just when I was feeling awful about the whole thing and imagining how I would ever be able to avoid Carey for five hours, she turned and faced me again. She had a slight smile on her face.
"Id love to," she finally said, "on one dition."
I steadied myself, hoping it wasnt something too awful.
"Yes?"
"You have to promise that you wont fall in love with me."
I knew she was kidding by the way she laughed, and I couldnt help but breathe a sigh of relief. Sometimes, I had to admit, Jamie had a pretty good sense of humor. I smiled and gave her my word.
Chapter 3
As a general rule, Southern Baptists dont dance. In Beaufort, however, it wasnt a rule that was ever strictly enforced. The minister before Hegbert-dont ask me what his name was-took sort of a lax view about school dances as long as they were chaperoned, and because of that, theyd bee a tradition of sorts. By the time Hegbert came along, it was too late to ge things. Jamie retty much the only one whod never been to a school dand frankly, I didnt know whether she even knew how to da all.
I admit that I also had some s about what she would wear, though it wasnt something I would tell her. When Jamie went to the church socials-which were enced by Hegbert-she usually wore an old sweater and one of the plaid skirts we saw in school every day, but the homeing dance was supposed to be special. Most of the girls bought new dresses and the boys wore suits, and this year we were bringing in a photographer to take our pictures. I knew Jamie wasnt going to buy a new dress because she wasly well-off. Ministering wasnt a profession where people made a lot of money, but of course ministers werent in it for moary gain, they were in it for the long haul, if you know what I mean. But I didnt wao wear the same thing she wore to school every day, either. Not so mue-Im not that cold-hearted-but because of what others might say. I didnt eople to make fun of her or anything.
The good news, if there was any, was that Eric didnt rib me too bad about the whole Jamie situation because he was too busy thinking about his own date. He was taking Margaret Hays, who was the head cheerleader at our school. She wasnt the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree, but she was ni her own way. By nice, of course, Im talking about her legs. Eric offered to double-date with me, but I turned him down because I didnt want to take any ces with Eric teasing Jamie or anything like that. He was a good guy, but he could be kind of heartless sometimes, especially when he had a few shots of bourbon in him.
The day of the dance was actually quite busy for me. I spent most of the afternoon helping to decorate the gym, and I had to get to Jamies about a half hour early because her father wao talk to me, though I didnt know why. Jamie had sprung that one on me just the day before, and I t say I was exactly thrilled by the prospect of it. I figured he was going to talk about temptation and the evil path it lead us to. If he brought up fornication, though, I knew I would die right there on the spot. I said small prayers all day long in the hope of avoiding this versation, but I wasnt sure if God would put my prayers on the front burner, if you know what I mean, because of the way Id behaved in the past. I retty nervous just thinking about it.
After I showered I put on my best suit, swung by the florist to pick up Jamies ce, then drove to her house. My mom had let me borrow the car, and I parked it oreet directly in front of Jamies house. We hadnt turhe clocks back yet, so it was still light out when I got there, and I strolled up the cracked walkway to her door. I knocked and waited for a moment, then knocked again. From behind the door I heard Hegbert say, "Ill be right there," but he wasly rag to the door. I must have stood there for two minutes or so, looking at the door, the moldings, the little cracks in the windowsills. Off to the side were the chairs that Jamie and I had sat in just a few days back. The one I sat in was still turned in the opposite dire. I guess they hadnt sat there in the last couple of days.
Finally the door creaked open. The light ing from the lamp inside shadowed Hegberts face slightly and sort of reflected through his hair. He was old, like I said, seventy-two years by my reing. It was the first time Id ever seen him up close, and I could see all the wrinkles on his face. His skin really was translut, even more so than Id imagined.
"Hello, Reverend," I said, swallowing my trepidation. "Im here to take Jamie to the homeing dance."
"Of course you are," he said. "But first, I wao talk with you."
"Yes, sir, thats why I came early."
" in."
In church Hegbert was a fairly snappy dresser, but right now he looked like a farmer, dressed in overalls and a T-shirt. He motioned for me to sit on the wooden chair hed brought in from the kit. "Im sorry it took a little while to open the door. I was w on tomorrows sermon," he said.
I sat down.
"Thats okay, sir." I dont know why, but you just had to call him "sir." He sort of projected that image.
"All right, then, so tell me about yourself."
I thought it was a fairly ridiculous question, with him having such a long history with my family and all. He was also the one who had baptized me, by the way, and hed seen me in church every Sunday since Id been a baby.
"Well, sir," I began, not really knowing what to say, "Im the student body president. I dont know whether Jamie mentiohat to you."
He nodded. "She did. Go on."
"And . . . well, I hope to go to the Uy of North Caroli fall. Ive already received the application."
He nodded again. "Anything else?"
I had to admit, I was running out of things after that. Part of me wao pick up the pencil off the end table and start balang it, giving him the whole thirty seds worth, but he wasnt the kind of guy who would appreciate it.
"I guess not, sir."
"Do you mind if I ask you a question?"
"No, sir."
He sort of stared at me for a long time, as if thinking about it.
"Why did you ask my daughter to the dance?" he finally said.
I was surprised, and I know that my expression showed it.
"I dont know what you mean, sir."
"Youre not planning to do anything to . . . embarrass her, are you?"
"No, sir," I said quickly, shocked by the accusation. "Not at all. I needed someoo go with, and I asked her. Its as simple as that."
"You dont have any pranks planned?"
"No, sir. I wouldnt do that to her. . . ."
This went on for a few more minutes-his grilling me about my true iions, I mean-but luckily Jamie stepped out of the ba, and her father and I both turned our heads at the same moment. Hegbert finally stopped talking, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Shed put on a nice blue skirt and a white blouse Id never seen before. Fortunately shed left her sweater in the closet. It wasnt too bad, I had to admit, though I knew shed still be underdressed pared with others at the dance. As always, her hair ulled up in a bun. Personally I think it would have looked better if shed kept it down, but that was the last thing I wao say. Jamie looked like . . . well, Jamie looked exactly like she usually did, but at least she wasnt planning ing her Bible. That would have just been too much to live down.
"Youre not giving Landon a hard time, are you?" she said cheerfully to her father.
"We were just visiting," I said quickly before he had a ce to respond. For some reason I didnt thiold Jamie about the kind of persohought I was, and I didnt think that now would be a good time.
"Well, we should probably go," she said after a moment. I think she sehe tension in the room. She walked over to her father and kissed him on the cheek. "Dont stay up too late w on the sermon, okay?"
"I wont," he said softly. Even with me in the room, I could tell he really loved her and wasnt afraid to show it. It ..was how he felt about me that was the problem.
We said good-bye, and on our way to the car I handed Jamie her ce and told her Id show her how to put it on once we got in the car. I opened her door for her and walked around the other side, then got in as well. In that short period of time, Jamie had already pinned on the flower.
"Im ly a dimwit, you know. I do know how to pin on a ce."
I started the car and headed toward the high school, with the versation Id just had with Hegbert running through my mind.
"My father doesnt like you very much," she said, as if knowing what I was thinking.
I nodded without saying anything.
"He thinks youre irresponsible."
I nodded again.
"He doesnt like your father much, either."
I nodded once more.
"Or your family."
I get the picture.
"But do you know what I think?" she asked suddenly.
"Not really." By then I retty depressed.
"I think that all this was in the Lords plan somehow. What do you think the message is?"
Here we go, I thought to myself.
I doubt if the evening could have been much worse, if you want to know the truth. Most of my friends kept their distance, and Jamie didnt have many friends to begin with, so we spent most of our time alone. Even worse, it turned out that my presence wasnt even required anymore. Theyd ged the rule owing to the fact that Carey could a date, and that left me feeling pretty miserable about the whole thing as soon as I found out about it. But because of what her father had said to me, I couldly take her home early, now, could I? And more than that, she was really having a good time; even I could see that. She loved the decorations Id helped put up, she loved the music, she loved everything about the dance. She kept telling me how wonderful everything was, and she asked me whether I might help her decorate the chureday, for one of their socials. I sort of mumbled that she should call me, and even though I said it without a trace of energy, Jamie thanked me for being so siderate. To be ho, I was depressed for at least the first hour, though she dido notice.
Jamie had to be home by eleven oclock, an hour before the danded, which made it somewhat easier for me to handle. Ohe music started we hit the floor, and it turned out that she retty good dancer, sidering it was her first time and all. She followed my lead pretty well through about a dozen songs, and after that we headed to the tables and had what resembled an ordinary versation. Sure, she threw in words like "faith" and "joy" and even "salvation," and she talked about helping the orphans and scooping critters off the highway, but she was just so damn happy, it was hard to stay down for long.
So things werent too terrible at first and really no worse than I had expected. It wasnt until Lew and Angela showed up that everything really went sour.
They showed up a few minutes after we arrived. He was wearing that stupid T-shirt, Camels in his sleeve, and a glop of hair gel on his head. Angela hung all over him right from the beginning of the dance, and it didnt take a genius to realize shed had a few drinks before she got there. Her dress was really flashy-her mother worked in a salon and on all the latest fashions-and I noticed shed picked up that ladylike habit called chewing gum. She really worked that gum, chewing it almost like a cow w her cud.
Well, good old Lew spiked the punch bowl, and a few more people started getting tipsy. By the time the teachers found out, most of the punch was already gone and people were getting that glassy look in their eyes. When I saw Angela gobble up her sed glass of punch, I knew I should keep my eye on her. Even though shed dumped me, I didnt want anything bad to happen to her. She was the first girl Id ever French-kissed, and even though our teeth ked together so hard the first time we tried it that I saw stars and had to take aspirin when I got home, I still had feelings for her.
So there I was, sitting with Jamie, barely listening as she described the wonders of Bible school, watg Angela out of the er of my eye, when Lew spotted me looking at her. In one frenzied motion he grabbed Angela around the waist and dragged her over to the table, giving me one of those looks, the ohat "means business." You know the one Im talking about.
"Are you staring at my girl?" he asked, already tensing up.
"No."
"Yeah, he was," Angela said, kind of slurring out the words. "He was staring right at me. This is my old boyfriend, the oold you about."
His eyes turned into little slits, just like Hegberts were proo do. I guess I have this effe lots of people.
"So youre the one," he said, sneering.
Now, Im not much of a fighter. The only real fight I was ever in was in third grade, and I pretty much lost that one when I started to cry even before the guy punched me. Usually I didnt have much trouble staying away from things like this because of my passive nature, and besides, no one ever messed with me when Eric was around. But Eric was ofbbr>f with Margaret somewhere, probably behind the bleachers.
"I wasnt staring," I said finally, "and I dont know what she told you, but I doubt if it was true."
His eyes narrowed. "Are you calling Angela a liar?" he sneered.
Oops.
I think he would have hit me right there, but Jamie suddenly worked her way into the situation.
"Dont I know you?" she said cheerfully, looking right at him. Sometimes Jamie seemed oblivious of situations that were happening right in front of her. "Wait-yes, I do. You work in the garage downtown. Your fathers name is Joe, and yrandma lives out on Foster Road, by the railroad crossing."
A look of fusion crossed Lews face, as though he were trying to put together a puzzle with too many pieces.
"How do you know all that? What hed do, tell you about me, too?"
"No," Jamie said, "dont be silly." She laughed to herself. Only Jamie could find humor at a time like this. "I saw your picture in yrandmas house. I was walking by, and she needed some help bringing in the groceries. Your picture was on the mantel."
Lew was looking at Jamie as though she had stalks growing out of her ears.
Meanwhile Jamie was fanning herself with her hand. "Well, we were just sitting down to take a breather from all that dang. It sure gets hot out there. Would you like to join us? Weve got a couple of chairs. Id love to hear how yrandma is doing."
She sounded so happy about it that Lew didnt know what to do. Uhose of us who were used to this sort of thing, hed never e across someone like Jamie before. He stood there for a moment or tw to decide if he should hit the guy with the girl whod helped his grandma. If it sounds fusing to you, imagine what it was doing to Lews petroleum-damaged brain.
He finally skulked off without responding, taking Angela with him. Angela had probably fotten how the whole thing started anyway, owing to the amount shed had to drink. Jamie and I watched him go, and when he was a safe distance away, I exhaled. I hadnt even realized Id been holding my breath.
"Thanks," I said mumbled sheepishly, realizing that Jamie-Jamie!-was the one whod saved me from grave bodily harm. Jamie looked at me strangely. "For what?" she asked, and when I didly spell it out for her, she went right bato her story about Bible school, as if nothing had happe all. But this time I found myself actually listening to her, at least with one of my ears. It was the least I could do.
It turns out that it wasnt the last we saw of either Lew ela that evening. The two glasses of punch had really done Angela in, and she threw up all over the ladies rest room. Lew, being the classy guy he was, left when he heard her retg, sort of slinking out the way he came in, and that was the last I saw of him. Jamie, as fate would have it, was the one who found Angela ihroom, and it was obvious that Angela wasnt doing too well. The only option was to her up and take her home before the teachers found out about it. Getting drunk was a big deal back then, and shed be looking at suspension, maybe even expulsion, if she got caught.
Jamie, bless her heart, didnt want that to happen any more than I did, though I would have thought otherwise if youd asked me beforehand, owing to the fact that Angela was a minor and in violation of the law. Shed also broken another one of Hegberts rules for proper behavior. Hegbert frowned on law-breaking and drinking, and though it did him going like fornication, we all knew he was deadly serious, and we assumed Jamie felt the same way. And maybe she did, but her helper instinct must have taken over. She probably took one look at Angela and thought "wounded critter" or something like that and took immediate charge of the situation. I went off and located Eric behind the bleachers, and he agreed to stand guard at the bathroom door while Jamie and I went in to tidy it up. Angela had done a marvelous job, I tell you. The puke was everywhere except the toilet. The walls, the floor, the sinks-even on the ceiling, though dont ask me how she did that. So there I erched on all fours, ing up puke at the homeing dan my best blue suit, which was exactly what I had wao avoid in the first place. And Jamie, my date, was on all fours, too, doily the same thin..g.
I could practically hear Carey laughing a squeaky, maniacal laugh somewhere in the distance.
We ended up sneaking out the back door of the gym, keeping Angela stable by walking oher side of her. She kept asking where Lew was, but Jamie told her not to worry. She had a real soothing way of talking to Angela, though Angela was sone, I doubt if she even kneas speaking. We loaded Angela into the backseat of my car, where she passed out almost immediately, although not before shed vomited once more on the floor of the car. The smell was so awful that we had to roll down the windows to keep from gagging, and the drive to Angelas house seemed extra long. Her mother answered the door, took one look at her daughter, and brought her ihout so much as a word of thanks. I think she was embarrassed, and we really didnt have much to say to her anyway. The situatioy much spoke for itself.
By the time we dropped her off it was ten forty-five, and we drove straight baies. I was really worried whe there because of the way she looked and smelled, and I said a silent prayer hoping that Hegbert wasnt awake. I didnt want to have to explain this to him. Oh, hed probably listen to Jamie if she was the one who told him about it, but I had the sinking feeling that hed find a way to blame me anyway.
So I walked her to the door, aood outside uhe porchlight. Jamie crossed her arms and smiled a little, looking just as if shed e in from an evening stroll where shed plated the beauty of the world.
"Please dont tell your father about this," I said.
"I wont," she said. She kept on smiling when she finally turned my way. "I had a good time tonight. Thank you for takio the dance."
Here she was, covered in puke, actually thanking me for the evening. Jamie Sullivan could really drive a guy crazy sometimes.
Chapter 4
Iwo weeks following the homeing dance, my life pretty much returo normal. My father was ba Washington, D.C., which made things a lot more fun around my house, primarily because I could sneak out the window again ao the graveyard for my late night forays. I dont know what it was about the graveyard that attracted us so. Maybe it had something to do with the tombstohemselves, because as far as tombstones went, they were actually fairly fortable to sit on.
We usually sat in a small plot where the Preston family had been buried about a hundred years ago. There were eight tombstohere, all arranged in a circle, making it easy to pass the boiled peanuts bad forth between us. Oime my friends and I decided to learn what we could about the Preston family, and we went to the library to find out if anything had been written about them. I mean, if yoing to sit on someoombstone, you might as well know something about them, right?
It turns out that there wasnt much about the family in the historical records, though we did find out oeresting tidbit of information. Henry Preston, the father, was a one-armed lumberjack, believe it or not. Supposedly he could cut down a tree as fast as any two-armed man. Now the vision of a one-armed lumberjack is pretty vivid right off the bat, so we talked about him a lot. We used to wonder what else he could do with only one arm, and wed spend long hours discussing how fast he could pitch a baseball or whether or not hed be able to swim across the Intracoastal Waterway. Our versatio exactly highbrow, I admit, but I ehem heless.
Well, Erid me were out there ourday night with a couple of other friends, eating boiled peanuts and talking about Henry Preston, when Eric asked me how my "date" went with Jamie Sullivan. He and I hadnt seen much of each other sihe homeing dance because the football season was already in the playoffs and Eric had been out of town the past few weekends with the team.
"It was okay," I said, shrugging, doing my best to play it cool.
Eric playfully elbowed me in the ribs, and I grunted. He outweighed me by at least thirty pounds.
"Did you kiss her good-night?"
"No."
He took a long drink from his of Budweiser as I answered. I dont know how he did it, but Eriever had trouble buying beer, which was strange, being that everyone in town knew how old he was.
He wiped his lips with the back of his hand, tossing me a sidelong glance.
"I would have thought that after she helped you the bathroom, you would have at least kissed her good night."
"Well, I didnt."
"Did you even try?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Shes not that kind of girl," I said, and even though we all k was true, it still sounded like I was defending her.
Eric latched on to that like a leech.
"I think you like her," he said.
"Youre full of crap," I answered, and he slapped my back, hard enough to force the breath right out of me. Hanging out with Eric usually meant that Id have a few bruises the following day.
"Yeah, I might be full of crap," he said, winking at me, "but youre the one whos smitten with Jamie Sullivan."
I kneere treading on dangerous ground.
"I was just usio impress Margaret," I said. "And with all the love notes shes been sendiely, I re it must have worked.";
Eric laughed aloud, slapping me on the back again.
"You and Margaret-now thats funny. . . ."
I knew Id just dodged a major bullet, and I breathed a sigh of relief as the versation spun off in a new dire. I joined in now and then, but I wasnt really listening to what they were saying. Instead I kept hearing this little voiside me that made me wonder about what Eric had said.
The thing was, Jamie robably the best date I could have had that night, especially sidering how the evening turned out. Not many dates-heot many people, period-would have done what she did. At the same time, her being a good date didnt mean I liked her. I hadnt talked to her at all sihe dance, except when I saw her in drama class, and eve was only a few words here and there. If I liked her at all, I told myself, I would have wao talk to her. If I liked her, I would have offered to walk her home. If I liked her, I would have wa her to Cecils Diner for a basket of hushpuppies and some RC cola. But I didnt want to do any of those things. I really didnt. In my mind, Id already served my penance.
The day, Sunday, I was in my room, w on my application to UN addition to the transcripts from my high school and other personal information, they required five essays of the usual type. If you could meet one person in history, who would that person be and why? he most signifit influen your life and why you feel that way. What do you look for in a role model and why? The essay questions were fairly predictable-lish teacher had told us what to exped Id already worked on a couple of variations in class as homework.
English robably my best subject. Id never received anything lower than an A since I first started school, and I was glad the emphasis for the application process was on writing. If it had been on math, I might have been in trouble, especially if it included those algebra questions that talked about the two trains leaving an hour apart, traveling in opposite dires at forty miles an hour, etc. It wasnt that I was bad in math-I usually pulled at least a C-but it didnt e naturally to me, if you know what I mean.
Anyway, I was writing one of my essays when the ph. The only phone we had was located i, and I had to run downstairs to grab the receiver. I was breathing so loudly that I couldnt make out the voice too well, though it sounded like Angela. I immediately smiled to myself. Even though shed been sick all over the plad Id had to it up, she was actually pretty fun to be around most of the time. And her dress really had been something, at least for the first hour. I figured she robably calling to thank me or even to get together for a barbecue sandwid hushpuppies or something.
"Landon?"
"Oh, hey," I said, playing it cool, "whats going on?"
There was a short pause oher end.
"How are you?"
It was then that I suddenly realized I wasnt speaking to Angela. Instead it was Jamie, and I almost dropped the phone. I t say that I was happy about hearing from her, and for a sed I wondered who had given her my phone numb..er before I realized it robably in the church records.
"Landon?"
"Im fine," I finally blurted out, still in shock.
"Are you busy?" she asked.
"Sort of."
"Oh . . . I see . . . ,"she said, trailing off. She paused again.
"Why are you calling me?" I asked.
It took her a few seds to get the words out.
"Well . . . I just wao know if you wouldnt mind ing by a little later this afternoon."
"ing by?"
"Yes. To my house."
"Your house?" I didnt even try to disguise the growing surprise in my voice. Jamie ig a on.
"Theres something I want to talk to you about. I wouldnt ask if it wasnt important."
"t you just tell me over the phone?"
"Id rather not."
"Well, Im w on my college application essays all afternoon," I said, trying to get out of it.
"Oh . . . well . . . like I said, its important, but I suppose I talk to you Monday at school. . . ."
With that, I suddenly realized that she wasnt going to let me off the hook and that wed end up talking one way or the other. My brain suddenly clicked through the sarios as I tried to figure out whie I should do-talk to her where my friends would see us or talk at her house. Though her option articularly good, there was something in the bay mind, remindihat shed helped me out when Id really , and the least I could do was to listen to what she had to say. I may be irresponsible, but Im a nice irresponsible, if I do say so myself.
Of course, that didnt mean everyone else had to know about it.
"No," I said, "today is fine. . . ."
We arrao meet at five oclock, and the rest of the afternoon ticked by slowly, like the drips from ese water torture. I left my house twenty minutes early, so Id have plenty of time to get there. My house was located he waterfront in the historic part of town, just a few doors down from where Blackbeard used to live, overlooking the Intracoastal Waterway. Jamie lived oher side of town, across the railroad tracks, so it would take me about that long to get there.
It was November, and the temperature was finally cooling down. Ohing I really liked about Beaufort was the fact that the springs and falls lasted practically forever. It might get hot in the summer or snow once every six years, and there might be a cold spell that lasted a week or so in January, but for the most part all you needed was a light jacket to make it through the wioday was one of those perfect days-mid-seventies without a cloud in the sky.
I made it to Jamies house right on time and knocked on her door. Jamie answered it, and a quick peek inside revealed that Hegbert wasnt around. It wasnt quite warm enough for sweet tea or lemonade, a in the chairs on the porch again, without anything to drink. The sun was beginning to lower itself in the sky, and there wasnt anyone oreet. This time I didnt have to move my chair. It hadnt been moved sihe last time Id been there.
"Thank you for ing, Landon," she said. "I know youre busy, but I appreciate your taking the time to do this."
"So, whats so important?" I said, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible.
Jamie, for the first time since Id known her, actually looked nervous as she sat with me. She kept bringing her hands together and pulling them apart.
"I wao ask you a favor," she said seriously.
"A favor?"
She nodded.
At first I thought she was going to ask me to help her decorate the church, like shed mentio homeing, or maybe she needed me to use my mothers car t some stuff to the orphans. Jamie didnt have her lise, and Hegbert heir car anyway, being that there was always a funeral or something he had to go to. But it still took a few seds for her to get the words out.
She sighed, her hands ing together again.
"Id like to ask you if you wouldnt mind playing Tom Thornton in the school play," she said.
Tom Thornton, like I said before, was the man in search of the music box for his daughter, the one who meets the angel. Except for the angel, it was far and away the most important role.
"Well . . . I dont know," I said, fused. "I thought Eddie Jones was going to be Tom. Thats what Miss Garber told us."
Eddie Jones was a lot like Carey Dennison, by the way. He was really skinny, with pimples all over his face, and he usually talked to you with his eyes all squinched up. He had a nervous tid he couldnt help but squinch his eyes whenever he got nervous, which ractically all the time. Hed probably end up spouting his lines like a psychotic blind man if you put him in front of a crowd. To make things worse, he had a stutter, too, and it took him a long time to say anything at all. Miss Garber had given him the role because hed been the only one who offered to do it, but eve was obvious she didnt want him either. Teachers were human, too, but she didnt have much of an option, sino one else had e forward.
"Miss Garber didnt say that exactly. What she said was that Eddie could have the role if no one else tried out for it."
"t someone else do it instead?"
But there really wasnt anyone else, and I k. Because of Hegberts requirement that only seniors perform, the play was in a bind that year. There were about fifty senior boys at the high school, twenty-two of whom were on the football team, and with the team still in the running for the state title, none of them would have the time to go to the rehearsals. Of the thirty or so who were left, more than half were in the band and they had after-school practice as well. A quick calculation showed that there were maybe a dozen other people who could possibly do it.
Now, I didnt want to do the play at all, and not only because Id e to realize that drama was just about the most b class ever ied. The thing was, Id already taken Jamie to homeing, and with her as the angel, I just couldhe thought that Id have to spend every afternoon with her for the month or so. Being seen with her once was bad en..ough . . . but being seen with her every day? What would my friends say?
But I could tell this was really important to her. The simple fact that shed asked made that clear. Jamie never asked anyone for a favor. I think deep down she suspected that no one would ever do her a favor because of who she was. The very realization made me sad.
"What about Jeff Ba? He might do it," I offered.
Jamie shook her head. "He t. His fathers sick, and he has to work iore after school until his father gets ba his feet."
"What about Darren Woods?"
"He broke his arm last week when he slipped on the boat. His arm is in a sling."
"Really? I didnt know that," I said, stalling, but Jamie knew what I was doing.
"Ive been praying about it, Landon," she said simply, and sighed for the sed time. "Id really like this play to be special this year, not for me, but because of my father. I want it to be the best produ ever. I know how much it will mean to him to see me be the angel, because this play reminds him of my mother. . . ." She paused, colleg her thoughts. "It would be terrible if the play was a failure this year, especially since Im involved."
She stopped again befoing on, her voice being more emotional as she went on.
"I know Eddie would do the best he could, I really do. And Im not embarrassed to do the play with him, Im really not. Actually, hes a very nice person, but he told me that hes having sed thoughts about doing it. Sometimes people at school be so . . . so . . . cruel, and I dont want Eddie to be hurt. But . . ." She took a deep breath, "but the real reason Im asking is because of my father. Hes such a good man, Landon. If people make fun of his memory of my mother while Im playing the part . . . well, that would break my heart. And with Eddie and me . . . you knoeople would say."
I nodded, my lips pressed together, knowing that I would have been one of those people she was talking about. In fact, I already was. Jamie and Eddie, the dynamic duo, we called them after Miss Garber had annouhat theyd be the ones doing the roles. The very fact that it was I who had started it up made me feel terrible, almost siy stomach.
She straightened up a little in her seat and looked at me sadly, as if she already knew I was going to say no. I guess she didnt knoas feeling. She went on.
"I know that challenges are alart of the Lords plan, but I dont want to believe that the Lord is cruel, especially to someone like my father. He devotes his life to God, he gives to the unity. And hes already lost his wife and has had to raise me on his own. And I love him so much for it. . . ."
Jamie turned away, but I could see the tears in her eyes. It was the first time Id ever seen her cry. I think part of me wao cry, too.
"Im not asking you to do it for me," she said softly, "Im really not, and if you say no, Ill still pray for you. I promise. But if youd like to do something kind for a wonderful man who means so mue . . . Will you just think about it?"
Her eyes looked like those of a cocker spahat had just messed on the rug. I looked down at my feet.
"I dont have to think about it," I finally said. "Ill do it."
I really didnt have a choice, did I?
Chapter 5
The day I talked to Miss Garber, went through the audition, and got the part. Eddie, by the way, wasnt upset at all. In fact, I could tell he was actually reliev?99liｂ.ed about the whole thing. When Miss Garber asked him if hed be willing to let me play the role of Tom Thornton, his face sort of relaxed right there and one of his eyes popped back open. "Y-y-yes, a-a-absolutely," he said, stuttering. "I-I-I un-un-uand." It took him practically ten seds to get the words out.
For his generosity, however, Miss Garber gave him the role of the bum, and we knew hed do fairly well in that role. The bum, you see, was pletely mute, but the angel always knew what he was thinking. At one point in the play she has to tell the mute bum that God will always watch out for him because God especially cares for the poor and downtrodden. That was one of the tip-offs to the audiehat shed bee from heaven. Like I said earlier, Hegbert wa to be real clear who offered redemption and salvation, and it certainly wasnt going to be a few rickety ghosts who just popped up out of nowhere.
Rehearsals started the week, and we rehearsed in the classroom, because the Playhouse wouldnt open their doors for us until wed got all the "little bugs" out of our performance. By little bugs, I mean our tendency to actally knock over the props. The props had been made about fifteen years ago, when the play was in its first year, by Toby Bush, a sort of roving handyman who had done a few projects for the Playhouse in the past. He was a roving handyman because he drank beer all day long while he worked, and by about two oclock or so hed really be flying. I guess he couldraight, because hed actally whack his fingers with the hammer at least once a day. Whehat happened, hed throw down the hammer and jump up and down, holding his fingers, cursing everyone from his mother to the devil. When he finally calmed down, hed have another beer to soothe the pain befoing back to work. His knuckles were the size of walnuts, permaly swollen from years of whag, and no one was willing to hire him on a perma basis. The only reason Hegbert had hired him at all was because he was far and away the lowest bidder in town.
But Hegbert wouldnt allow drinking or cursing, and Toby really didnt know how to work within such a striviro. As a result, the work was kind of sloppy, though it wasnt obviht off the bat. After a few years the props began to fall apart, and Hegbert took it upon himself to keep the things together. But while Hegbert was good at thumping the Bible, he wasnt too good at thumping nails, and the props had bent, rusty nails stig out all over, poking through the plywood in so many places that we had to be careful to walk exactly where we were supposed to. If we bumped them the wrong way, wed either cut ourselves or the props would topple over, making little nail holes all over the stage floor. After a couple of years the Playhouse stage had to be resurfaced, and though they couldly close their doors to Hegbert, they made a deal with him to be more careful iure. That meant we had to practi the classroom until wed worked out the "little bugs."
Fortunately Hegbert wasnt involved with the actual produ of the play, because of all his ministering duties. That role fell to Miss Garber, and the first thing she told us to do was to memorize our lines as quickly as possible. We didnt have as much time as was usually allotted for rehearsals because Thanksgiving came on the last possible day in November, and Hegbert didnt want the play to be performed too close to Christmas, so as not to interfere with "its true meaning." That left us only three weeks to get the play just right, which was about a week shorter than usual.
The rehearsals began at three oclock, and Jamie knew all her lihe first day there, which wasnt really surprising. What was surprising was that she knew all my lioo, as well as everyone elses. Wed be going over a se, shed be doing it without the script, and Id be looking down at a stack of pages, trying to figure out what my line should be, and whenever I looked up she had this real shiny look about her, as if waiting for a burning bush or something. The only lines I knew were the mute bums, at least on that first day, and all of a sudden I was actually envious of Eddie, at least in that regard. This was going to be a lot of work, ly what Id expected when Id signed up for the class.
My noble feelings about doing the play had worn off by the sed day of rehearsals. Even though I knew I was doing the &quht thing," my friends didnt uand it at all, and theyd been riding me siheyd found out. "Youre doing what?" Eric asked when he learned about it. "Youre doing the play with Jamie Sullivan? Are you insane or just plain stupid?" I sort of mumbled that I had a good reason, but he would drop, aold everyone around us that I had a crush on her. I de, of course, which just made them assume it was true, and theyd laugh all the louder ahe person they saw. The stories kept getting wilder, too-by lunchtime Id heard from Sally that I was thinking of getting engaged. I actually think Sally was jealous about it. Shed had a crush on me for years, and the feeling might have been mutual except for the fact that she had a glass eye, and that was something I just couldnt ignore. Her bad eye reminded me of something youd see stuffed into the head of a mounted owl in a tacky antique shop, and to be ho, it sort of gave me the willies.
I guess that was when I started to resent Jamie again. I know it wasnt her fault, but I was the one who was taking the arrows fbert, who hadly go of his way the night of homeing to make me feel wele. I began to stumble through my lines in class for the few days, not really even attempting to learn them, and occasionally Id crack a joke or two, which everyone laughed at, except for Jamie and Miss Garber. After rehearsal was over Id head home to put the play out of my mind, and I wouldnt even bother to pick up the script. Instead Id joke with my friends about the weird things Jamie did and tell fibs about how it was Miss Garber who had forced me into the whole thing.
Jamie, though, wasnt going to let me off that easy. No, she got me right where it hurts, right sma the old ego.
I was out with Eri Saturday night following Beauforts third secutive state championship in football, about a week after rehearsals had started. We were hanging out at the waterfront outside of Cecils Diner, eating hushpuppies an.?d watg people cruising in their cars, when I saw Jamie walking dowreet. She was still a hundred yards away, turning her head from side to side, wearing that old brower again and carrying her Bible in one hand. It must have been nine oclock or so, which was late for her to be out, and it was even strao see her in this part of town. I turned my back to her and pulled the collar up on my jacket, but even Margaret-who had banana pudding where her brain should have been-was smart enough to figure out who she was looking for.
"Landon, yirlfriend is here."
"Shes not my girlfriend," I said. "I dont have a girlfriend."
"Your fiahen."
I guess shed talked to Sally, too.
"Im not engaged," I said. "Now knock it off."
I glanced over my shoulder to see if shed spotted me, and I guess she had. She was walking toward us. I pretended not to notice.
"Here she es," Margaret said, and giggled.
"I know," I said.
Twenty seds later she said it again.
"Shes still ing." I told you she was quick.
"I know," I said through gritted teeth. If it wasnt for her legs, she could almost drive you as crazy as Jamie.
I glanced around again, and this time Jamie knew Id seen her and she smiled and waved at me. I turned away, and a moment later she was standing right beside me.
"Hello, Landon," she said to me, oblivious of my s. "Hello, Eric, Margaret . . ." She went around the group. Everyone sort of mumbled "hello" and tried not to stare at the Bible.
Eric was holding a beer, and he moved it behind his back so she would. Jamie could even make Eric feel guilty if she was close enough to him. Theyd been neighbors at oime, and Eric had been on the receiving end of her talks before. Behind her back he called her "the Salvation Lady," in obvious refereo the Salvation Army. "She would have been a brigadier general," he liked to say. But when she was standing right in front of him, it was aory. In his mind she had an in with God, and he didnt want to be in her bad graces.
"How are you doing, Eric? I havent seen you around much retly." She said this as if she still talked to him all the time.
He shifted from one foot to the other and looked at his shoes, playing that guilty look for all it was worth.
"Well, I haveo church lately," he said.
Jamie smiled that glittery smile. "Well, thats okay, I suppose, as long as it doesnt bee a habit or anything."
"It wont."
Now Ive heard of fession-that thing when Catholics sit behind a s ahe priest about all their sins-and thats the way Eric was when he was o Jamie. For a sed I thought he was going to call her "maam."
"You want a beer?" Margaret asked. I think she was trying to be funny, but no one laughed.
Jamie put her hand to her hair, tuggily at her bun. "Oh . . . no, not really . . . thank you, though."
She looked directly at me with a really sweet glow, and right away I knew I was in trouble. I thought she was going to ask me off to the side or something, which to be ho I thought would turn out better, but I guess that wasnt in her plans.
"Well, you did really well this week at rehearsals," she said to me. "I know youve got a lot of lio learn, but Im sure yoing to get them all real soon. And I just wao thank you for volunteering like you did. Youre a real gentleman."
"Thanks," I said, a little knot f in my stomach. I tried to be cool, but all my friends were looking right at me, suddenly w if Id been telling them the truth about Miss Garber f it on me and everything. I hoped they missed it.
"Your friends should be proud of you," Jamie added, putting that thought to rest.
"Oh, we are," Eric said, poung. "Very proud. Hes a good guy, that Landon, what with his volunteering and all."
Oh no.
Jamie smiled at him, then turned bae again, her old cheerful self. "I also wao tell you that if you need any help, you e by anytime. We sit on the porch like we did before and go over your lines if you o."
I saw Eric mouth the words "like we did before" taret. This really wasnt going well at all. By now the pit in my stomach was as big as Paul Bunyans bowling ball.
"Thats okay," I mumbled, w how I could squirm my way out of this. "I lear home."
"Well, sometimes it helps if someohere to read with you, Landon," Eric offered.
I told you hed stick it to me, even though he was my friend.
"No, really," I said to him, "Ill learn the lines on my own."
"Maybe," Eric said, smiling, "you two should practi front of the orphans, once youve got it down a little better. Sort of a dress rehearsal, you know? Im sure theyd love to see it."
You could practically see Jamies mind start clig at the mention of the word orphans. Everyone knew what her hot button was. "Do you think so?" she asked.
Eriodded seriously. "Im sure of it. Landon was the one who thought of it first, but I know that if I was an orphan, Id love something like that, even if it wasly the real thing."
"Me too," Margaret chimed in.
As they spoke, the only thing I could think about was that se from Julius Caesar where Brutus stabs him in the back. Et tu, Eric?
"It was Landons idea?" she asked, furrowing her brow. She looked at me, and I could tell she was still mulling it over.
But Eric wasnt about to let me off the hook that easy. Now that he had me flopping on the deck, the only thio do was gut me. "Youd like to do that, wouldnt you, Landon?" he said. "Helping the orphans, I mean."
It wasly something you could answer no to, was it?
"I re so," I said under my breath, staring at my best friend. Eric, despite the remedial classes he was in, would have been one hell of a chess player.
"Good, then, its all settled. Thats if its okay with you, Jamie." His smile was so sweet, it could have flavored half the RC cola in the ty.
"Well . . . yes, I suppose Ill have to talk to Miss Garber and the director of the orphanage, but if they say its okay, I think it would be a fine idea."
And the thing was, you could tell she was really happy about it.
Checkmate.
The day I spent fourteen hours memorizing my lines, cursing my friends, and w how my life had spun so out of trol. My senior year certainly wasnt turning out the way I thought it would when it began, but if I had to perform for a bunch of orphans, I certainly didnt want to look like an idiot.
Chapter 6
The first thing we did was talk to Miss Garber about our plans for the orphans, and she thought it was a marvelous idea. That was her favorite word, by the way-marvelous-after shed greeted you with "Hellooooo." On Monday, when she realized that I knew all my lines, she said, "Marvelous!" and for the wo hours whenever Id finish up a se, shed say it again. By the end of the rehearsal, Id heard it about four zillion times.
But Miss Garber actually went our idea oer. She told the class what we were doing, and she asked if other members of the cast would be willing to do their parts as well, so that the orphans could really enjoy the whole thing. The way she asked meant that they really didnt have a choice, and she looked around the class, waiting for someoo nod so she could make it official. No one moved a muscle, except for Eddie. Somehow hed inhaled a bug up his that exaent, and he sneezed violently. The bug flew out his nose, shot across his desk, and landed on the flht by Norma Jeans leg. She jumped out of her chair and screamed out loud, and the people oher side of her shouted, "Eww . . . gross!" The rest of the class started looking around and ing their necks, trying to see what happened, and for the en seds there was total pandemonium in the classroom. For Miss Garber, that was as good of an answer as she needed.
"Marvelous," she said, closing the discussion.
Jamie, meanwhile, was getting really excited about perf for the orphans. During a break in rehearsals she pulled me aside and thanked me for thinking of them. "Theres no way you would know," she said almost spiratorially, "but Ive been w what to do for the orphahis year. Ive been praying about it for months now because I want this Christmas to be the most special one of all."
"Why is this Christmas so important?" I asked her, and she smiled patiently, as if Id asked a question that didnt really matter.
"It just is," she said simply.
The step was to talk it over with Mr. Jenkins, the director of the orphanage. Now Id never met Mr. Jenkins before, being that the orphanage was in Morehead City, which was across the bridge from Beaufort, and Id never had any reason to go there. When Jamie surprised me with the he following day that wed be meeting him later that evening, I was sort of worried that I wasnt dressed niough. I know it was an orphanage, but a guy wants to make a good impression. Even though I wasnt as excited about it as Jamie was (no one was as excited as Jamie), I didnt want to be regarded as the Grinch who ruined Christmas for the orphaher.
Before we went to the orphanage for our meeting, we had to walk to my house to pick up my moms car, and while there, I planned on ging into something a little he walk took about ten minutes or so, and Jamie didnt say much along the way, at least until we got to my neighborhood. The homes around mine were all large and well kept, and she asked who lived where and how old the houses were. I answered her questions without much thought, but when I opehe front door to my house, I suddenly realized how different this world was pared with her own. She had a shocked expression on her face as she looked around the living room, taking in her surroundings.
No doubt it was the fa home shed ever been in. A moment later I saw her eyes travel to the paintings that lihe walls. My aors, so to speak. As with many southern families, my entire lineage could be traced in the dozen faces that lihe walls. She stared at them, looking for a resemblance, I think, then turned her attention to the furnishings, which still looked practically new, even after twenty years. The furniture had been handmade, assembled or carved from mahogany and cherry, and designed specifically for ea. It was nice, I had to admit, but it wasnt something I really thought about. To me, it was just a house. My favorite part of it was the window in my room that led to the por the upper level. That was my escape hatch.
I showed her around, though, giving her a quick tour of the sitting room, the library, the den, and the family room, Jamies eyes growing wider with eaew room. My mom was out on the sun porch, sipping a mint julep and reading, and heard us poking around. She came baside to say hello.
I think I told you that every adult in town adored Jamie, and that included my mom. Even though Hegbert was always giving the kinds of sermons that had our familys name written all over them, my mom never held it against Jamie, because of how sweet she was. So they talked while I stairs rifling through my closet for a shirt and a tie.
Back then boys wore ties a lot, especially when they were meeting someone in a position of authority. When I came back dowairs fully dressed, Jamie had already told my mom about the plan.
"Its a wonderful idea," Jamie said, beaming at me. "Landons really got a special heart."
My mom-after making sure shed heard Jamie correctly-faced me with her eyebrows raised. She stared at me like I was an alien.
"So this was your idea?" my mom asked. Like everyone else in town, she knew Jamie didnt lie.
I cleared my throat, thinking of Erid what I still wao do to him. It involved molasses and fire ants, by the way.
"Kind of," I said.
"Amazing." It was the only word she could get out. She didnt know the details, but she knew I must have been boxed into a er to do something like this. Mothers always know stuff like that, and I could see her peering closely at me and trying to figure it out. To escape her inquisitive gaze, I checked my watch, feigned surprise, and casually mentioo Jamie that wed better be going. My mom got the car keys from her pocketbook and hahem to me, still givihe once-over as we headed out the door. I breathed a sigh of relief, imagining that Id somehow gotten away with something, but as I walked Jamie to the car, I heard my mothers voice again.
"e on over anytime, Jamie!" my mom shouted. "Youre always wele here."
Even mothers could stick it to you sometimes.
I was still shaking my head as I got in the car.
"Your mothers a wonderful lady," Jamie said.
I started the engine. "Yeah," I said, "I guess so."
"And your house is beautiful."
"Uh-huh."
"You should t your blessings."
"Oh," I said, "I do. Im practically the luckiest guy alive."
Somehow she didnt catch the sarcastie of my voice.
We got to the orphanage just about the time it was getting dark. We were a couple of minutes early, and the director was on the pho was an important call and he could with us right away, so we made ourselves fortable. We were waiting on a ben the hallway outside his door, when Jamie turo me. Her Bible was in her lap. I guess she wa for support, but then again, maybe it was just her habit.
"You did really well today," she said. "With your lines, I mean."
"Thanks," I said, feeling proud aed at exactly the same time. "I still havent learned my beats, though," I offered. There was no way we could practice those on the porch, and I hoped she wasnt going to suggest it.
"You will. Theyre easy once you know you all the words."
"I hope so."
Jamie smiled, and after a moment she ged the subject, sort of throwing me off track. "Do you ever think about the future, Landon?" she asked.
I was startled by her question because it sounded . . . so ordinary.
"Yeah, sure. I guess so," I answered cautiously.
"Well, what do you want to do with your life?"
I shrugged, a little wary of where she was going with this. "I dont know y>et. I havent figured that part out. Im going to U fall, at least I hope so. I have to get accepted first."
"You will," she said.
"How do you kn?99liｂ.ow?"
"Because Ive prayed for that, too."
When she said it, I thought we were heading into a discussion about the power of prayer and faith, but Jamie tossed yet another curveball at me.
"How about after college? What do you want to do then?"
"I dont know," I said, shrugging. "Maybe Ill be a one-armed lumberjack."
She didnt think it was funny.
"I think you should bee a minister," she said seriously. "I think yood with people, and theyd respect what you have to say."
Though the cept was absolutely ridiculous, with her I just k came from the heart and she inte as a pliment.
"Thanks," I said. "I dont know if Ill do that, but Im sure Ill find something." It took a moment for me to realize that the versation had stalled and that it was my turn to ask a question.
"How about you? What do you want to do iure?"
Jamie turned away and got a far-off gaze in her eyes, making me wonder what she was thinking, but it vanished almost as quickly as it came.
"I want to get married," she said quietly. "And when I do, I want my father to walk me down the aisle and I want everyone I know to be there. I want the church bursting with people."
"Thats all?" Though I wasnt averse to the idea of marriage, it seemed kind of silly to hope for that as your lifes goal.
"Yes," she said. "Thats all I want."
The way she answered made me suspect that she thought shed end up like Miss Garber. I tried to make her feel better, even though it still seemed silly to me.
"Well, youll get married someday. Youll meet some guy and the two of you will hit it off, and hell ask you to marry him. And Im sure that your father will be happy to walk you down the aisle."
I didion the part about having a big crowd in the church. I guess it was the ohing that even I couldnt imagine.
Jamie thought carefully about my answer, really p the way I said it, though I didnt know why.
"I hope so," she said finally.
I could tell she didnt want to talk about it anymore, dont ask me how, so I moved on to something new.
"So how long have you been ing to the orphanage?" I asked versationally.
"Seven years now. I was ten years old the first time I came. I was youhan a lot of the kids here."
"Do you enjoy it, or does it make you sad?"
"Both. Some of the children here came from really horrible situations. Its enough to break your heart when you hear about it. But when they see you e in with some books from the library or a new game to play, their smiles just take all the sadness away. Its the greatest feeling in the world."
She practically glowed when she spoke. Though she wasnt saying it to make me feel guilty, that was exactly the way I felt. It was one of the reasons it was so hard to put up with her, but by then I was getting fairly used to it. She could twist you every way but normal, Id e to learn.
At that moment, Mr. Jenkins opehe door and invited us in. The office looked almost like a hospital room, with blad-white tiled floors, white walls and ceilings, a metal et against the wall. Where the bed would normally have been, there was a metal desk that looked like it had been stamped off the assembly li was almost ically of anything personal. There wasnt a single picture or anything.
Jamie introduced me, and I shook Mr. Jenkinss hand. After we sat down, Jamie did most of the talking. They were old friends, you could see that right off, and Mr. Jenkins had given her a big hug as soon as shed entered. After smoothing out her skirt, Jamie explained our plan. Now, Mr. Jenkins had seen the play a few years back, and he kly what she was talking about almost as soon as she started. But even though Mr. Jenkins liked Jamie a lot and knew she meant well, he didnt think it was a good idea.
"I dont think its a good idea," he said.
Thats how I knew what he was thinking.
"Why not?" Jamie asked, her brow furrowed. She seemed genuinely perplexed by his lack of enthusiasm.
Mr. Jenkins picked up a pencil and started tapping it on his desk, obviously thinking about how to explain himself. In time, he put down the pencil and sighed.
"Even though its a wonderful offer and I know youd like to do something special, the play is about a father who eventually es to realize how much he loves his daughter." He let that sink in for a moment and picked up the pencil again. "Christmas is hard enough around here without reminding the kids of what theyre missing. I think that if the children see something like that . . ."
He didnt even have to finish. Jamie put her hands to her mouth. "Oh my," she said right away, "youre right. I hadnt thought about that."
her had I, to tell you the truth. But it was obviht off the bat that Mr. Jenkins made sense.
He thanked us anyway and chatted for a while about what he plao do instead.
"Well have a small tree and a few gifts-something that all of them share. "Youre wele to visit Christmas Eve. . . ."
After we said ood-byes, Jamie and I walked in silehout saying anything. I could tell she was sad. The more I hung around Jamie, the more I realized she had lots of differeions-she wasnt always cheerful and happy. Believe it or not, that was the first time I reized that in some ways she was just like the rest of us.
"Im sorry it didnt work out," I said softly.
"I am, too."
She had that faraway look in her eyes again, and it was a moment before she went on.
"I just wao do something different for them this year. Something special that they would remember forever. I thought for sure this was it. . . ." She sighed. "The Lord seems to have a plan that I just dont know about yet."
She was quiet for a long time, and I looked at her. Seeing Jamie feeling bad was almost worse than feeling bad because of her. Unlike Jamie, I deserved to feel bad about myself-I knew what kind of person I was. But with her . . .
"While were here, do you want to stop in to see the kids?" I asked into the sile was the only thing I could think to do that might make her feel better. "I could wait out here while you talk to them, o to the car if you want."
"Would you visit them with me?" she asked suddenly.
To be ho, I wasnt sure I could ha, but I knew she really wanted me there. And she was feeling so down that the words came out automatically.
"Sure, Ill go."
"Theyll be in the re now. Thats where they usually are at this time," she said.
We walked down the corridors to the end of the hall, where two doors opened into a good-size room. Perched in the far er was a small television with about thirty metal folding chairs placed all around it. The kids were sitting in the chairs, crowded around it, and you could tell that only the ones in the front row had a good view of the thing.
I glanced around. In the er was an old Ping-Pong table. The surface was cracked and dusty, the o be seen. A couple of empty Styrofoam cups sat on top of it, and I k hadnt been used in months, maybe years. Along the wall o the Ping-Pong table were a set of shelves, with a few toys here and there-blocks and puzzles, a couple of games. There werent too many, and the few that were there looked as if theyd been in this room for a long time. Along the near walls were small individual desks piled with neers, scribbled on with crayons.
We stood in the doorway for just a sed. We hadnt been noticed yet, and I asked what the neers were for.
"They dont have c books," she whispered, "so they use neers." She didnt look at me as she spoke-instead her attention was directed at the kids. Shed begun to smile again.
"Are these all the toys they have?" I asked.
She nodded. "Yes, except for the stuffed animals. Theyre allowed to keep those in their rooms. This is where the rest of the things are kept."
I guess she was used to it. To me, though, the sparseness of the room made the whole thing depressing. I couldnt imagine growing up in a place like this.
Jamie and I finally walked into the room, and one of the kids turned around at the sound of our steps. He was about eight or so, with red hair and freckles, his two froh missing.
"Jamie!" he shouted happily when he saw her, and all of a sudden all the other heads turhe kids ranged in age from about five to twelve, more boys than girls. After twelve they had to be sent to live with foster parents, I later learned.
"Hey, Roger," Jamie said in response, "how are you?"
With that, Roger and some of the others began to crowd around us. A few of the other kids ignored us and moved closer to the television now that there were free seats in the front row. Jamie introduced me to one of the older kids whod e up and asked if I was her boyfriend. By his tone, I think that he had the same opinion of Jamie that most of the kids in h school had.
"Hes just a friend," she said. "But hes very nice."
Over the hour, we visited with the children. I got a lot of questions about where I lived and whether my house was big or what kind of car I owned, and when we finally had to leave, Jamie promised that shed be back soon. I noticed that she didnt promise I would be with her.
While we were walking back to the car, I said, "Theyre a nice bunch of kids." I shrugged awkwardly. "Im glad that you want to help them."
Jamie turo me and smiled. She khere wasnt much to add after that, but I could tell she was still w what she was going to do for them that Christmas.
Chapter 7
By early December, just over two weeks into rehearsals, the sky was winter dark before Miss Garber would let us leave, and Jamie asked me if I wouldnt mind walking her home. I dont know why she wanted me to. Beaufort wasly a hotbed of criminal activity back then. The only murder Id ever heard about had occurred six years earlier when a guy was stabbed outside of Maurices Tavern, which was a hangout for people like Lew, by the way. For an hour or so it caused quite a stir, and phone lines buzzed all over town while nervous women wondered about the possibility of a crazed lunatidering the streets, preying on i victims. Doors were locked, guns were loaded, men sat by the front windows, looking for a of the ordinary who might be creeping dowreet. But the whole thing was over before the night was through when the guy walked into the police station to give himself up, explaining that it was a bar fight that got out of hand. Evidently the victim had welshed on a bet. The guy was charged with sed-degree murder and got six years iate peiary. The poli in our town had the most b jobs in the world, but they still liked to strut around with a swagger or sit in coffee shops while they talked about the "big crime," as if theyd cracked the case of the Lindbergh baby.
But Jamies house was on the way to mine, and I couldnt say no without hurting her feelings. It wasnt that I liked her or anything, dohe wrong idea, but when youve had to spend a few hours a day with someone, and yoing to tinue doing that for at least another week, you dont want to do anything that might make the day miserable for either of you.
The play was going to be performed that Friday and Saturday, and lots of people were already talking about it. Miss Garber had been so impressed by Jamie ahat she kept telling everyo was going to be the best play the school had ever done. She had a real flair for promotion, too, we found out. We had one radio station in town, and they interviewed her over the air, not once, but twice. "Its going to be marvelous," she pronounced, "absolutely marvelous." Shed also called the neer, and theyd agreed to write an article about it, primarily because of the Jamie- Hegbert e, even though everyone in town already knew about it. But Miss Garber was relentless, and just that day shed told us the Playhouse was going t ira seats to aodate the extra-large crowd expected. The class sort of oohed and aahed, like it was a big deal or something, but then I guess it was to some of them. Remember, we had guys like Eddie in class. He probably thought that this would be the only time in his life when someone might be ied in him. The sad thing was, he robably right. You might think Id be gettied about it, too, but I really wasnt. My friends were still teasi school, and I hadnt had an afternoon off in what seemed like forever. The only thing that kept me going was the fact that I was doing the &quht thing." I know its not much, but frankly, it was all I had. Occasionally I eve sort of good about it, too, though I never admitted it to anyone. I could practically imagihe angels in heaven, standing around and staring wistfully down at me with little tears filling the ers of their eyes, talking about how wonderful I was for all my sacrifices.
So I was walking her home that first night, thinking about this stuff, when Jamie asked me a question.
"Is it true you and your friends sometimes go to the graveyard at night?"
Part of me was surprised that she was even ied. Though it wasly a secret, it didnt seem like the sort of thing shed care about at all.
"Yeah," I said, shrugging. "Sometimes."
"What do you do there, besides eat peanuts?"
I guess she knew about that, too.
"I dont know," I said. "Talk . . . joke around. Its just a place we like to go."
"Does it ever scare you?"
"No," I answered. "Why? Would it scare you?"
"I dont know," she said. "It might."
"Why?"
"Because Id worry that I might do something wrong."
"We dont do anything bad there. I mean, we dont knock over the tombstones or leave our trash around," I said. I didnt want to tell her about our versations about Henry Preston because I khat wasnt the sort of thing Jamie would want to hear about. Last week Eric had wondered aloud how fast a guy like that could lie in bed and . . . well . . . you know.
"Do you ever just sit around and listen to the sounds?" she asked. "Like the crickets chirping, or the rustling of leaves when the wind blows? Or do you ever just lie on your backs and stare at the stars?"
Even though she was a teenager and had been for four years, Jamie didnt know the first thing about teenagers, and trying to uand teenage boys for her was like trying to decipher the theory of relativity.
"Not really," I said.
She nodded a little. "I think thats what Id do if I were there, if I ever go, I mean. Id just look around to really see the place, or sit quietly and listen."
This whole versation struck me as strange, but I didnt press it, and we walked in silence for a few moments. And since shed asked a little about me, I sort of felt obliged to ask her about herself. I mean, she hadnt brought up the Lords plan or anything, so it was the least I could do.
"So, what do you do?" I asked. "Besides w with the orphans or helping critters or reading the Bible, I mean?" It sounded ridiculous, even to me, I admit, but thats what she did.
She smiled at me. I think she was surprised by my question, and even more surprised at my i in her.
"I do a lot of things. I study for my classes, I spend time with my dad. We play gin rummy now and then. Things like that."
"Do you ever just go off with friends and goof around?"
"No," she said, and I could tell by the way she answered that even to her, it was obvious that no one wanted her around much.
"Ill bet youre excited about going off to college year," I said, ging the subject.
It took her a moment to answer.
"I dont think Im going to go," she said matter-of-factly. Her answer caught me off guard. Jamie had some of the highest grades in our senior class, and depending on how the last semester went, she might even end up valedictorian. We had a running pool going as to how many times she would mention the Lords plan in her speech, by the way. My bet was fourteen, being that she only had five minutes.
"What about Mount Sermon? I thought thats where you were planning to go. Youd love a place like that," I offered.
She looked at me with a twinkle in her eye. "You mean Id fit right in there, dont you?"
Those curveballs she sometimes threw could smack yht between the eyeballs.
"I didnt mean it that way," I said quickly. "I just meant that Id heard about how excited you were to be going there year."
She shrugged without really answering me, and to be ho, I didnt know what to make of it. By then wed reached the front of her house, aopped on the sidewalk out front. From where I was standing, I could make out Hegberts shadow in the living room through the curtains. The lamp was on, and he was sitting on the sofa by the window. His head was bowed, like he was reading something. I assumed it was the Bible.
"Thank you for walking me home, Landon," she said, and she glanced up at me for a moment before finally starting up the walk.
As I watched her go, I couldnt help but think that of all the times Id ever talked to her, this was the stra versation wed ever had. Despite the oddness of some of her answers, she seemed practically n>mal.
The night, as I was walking her home, she asked me about my father.
"Hes all right, I re," I said. &qu>ot;But hes not around much."
"Do you miss that? Not growing up with him around?"
"Sometimes."
"I miss my mom, too," she said, "even though I never even knew her."
It was the first time Id ever sidered that Jamie and I might have something in on. I let that sink in for a while.
"It must be hard for you," I said sincerely. "Even though my fathers a strap://..o me, at least hes still around."
She looked up at me as we walked, then faced fain. She tugged gently at her hair again. I was beginning to notice that she did this whenever she was nervous or wasnt sure what to say.
"It is, sometimes. Do me wrong-I love my father with all my heart-but there are times when I wonder what it would have been like to have a mother around. I think she and I would have been able to talk about things in a way that my father and I t."
I assumed she was talking about boys. It wasnt until later that I learned h I was.
"Whats it like, living with your father? Is he like how he is in church?"
"No. Hes actually got a pretty good sense of humor."
"Hegbert?" I blurted out. I couldnt even imagi.
I think she was shocked to hear me call him by his first name, but she let me off the hook and didnt respond to my ent. Instead she said, "Dont look so surprised. Youll like him, once you get to know him."
"I doubt if Ill ever get to know him."
"You never know, Landon," she said, smiling, "what the Lords plan is."
I hated when she said things like that. With her, you just knew she talked to the Lord every day, and you never knew what the "Big Guy upstairs" had told her. She might even have a direct ticket into heaven, if you know what I mean, being as how good a person she was.
"How would I get to know him?" I asked.
She didnt answer, but she smiled to herself, as if she knew some secret that she was keeping from me. Like I said, I hated it when she did that.
The night we talked about her Bible.
"Why do you always carry it with you?" I asked.
Now, I assumed she carried the Bible around simply because she was the ministers daughter. It wasnt that big of an assumption, given how Hegbert felt about Scripture and all. But the Bible she carried was old and the cover was kind of ratty looking, and I figured that shed be the kind of person who would buy a new one every year or so just to help out the Bible publishing industry or to show her renewed dedication to the Lord or something.
She walked a few steps before answering.
"It was my mothers," she said simply.
"Oh. . . ." I said it like Id stepped on someones pet turtle, squashing it under my shoe.
She looked at me. "Its okay, Landon. How could you have known?"
"Im sorry I asked. . . ."
"Dont be. You didnt mean anything by it." She paused. "My mother and father were given this Bible for their wedding, but my mom was the one who claimed it first. She read it all the time, especially whenever she was going through a hard time in her life."
I thought about the miscarriages. Jamie went on.
"She loved to read it at night, before she went to sleep, and she had it with her in the hospital when I was born. When my fathe９９lｉb?r found out that she had died, he carried the Bible a of the hospital at the same time."
"Im sorry," I said again. Whenever someoells you something sad, its the only thing you think to say, even if youve already said it before.
"It just gives me a way to . . . to be a part of her. you uand that?" She wasnt saying it sadly, just more to let me know the ao my question. Somehow that made it worse.
After she told me the story, I thought of her growing up with Hegbert again, and I didnt really know what to say. As I was thinking about my ahough, I heard a car blare its horn from behind us, and both Jamie and I stopped and turned around at the same time as we heard it pulling over to the side.
Erid Margaret were in the car, Eri the drivers side, Margaret on the side closest to us.
"Well, lookee who we have here," Eric said as he leaned over the steering wheel so that I could see his face. I hadnt told him Id been walking Jamie home, and in the curious way that teenage minds work, this new development took priority over anything that I was feeling about Jamies story.
"Hello, Eric. Hello, Margaret," Jamie said cheerfully.
"Walking her home, Landon?" I could see the little devil behind Erics smile.
"Hey, Eric," I said, wishing hed never seen me.
"Its a beautiful night for strolling, isnt it?" Eric said. I think that because Margaret was between him and Jamie, he felt a little bolder than he usually was in Jamies presence. And there was no way he could let this opportunity pass without stig it to me.
Jamie looked around and smiled. "Yes, it is."
Eric looked around, too, with this wistful look in his eyes before taking a deep breath. I could tell he was faking it. "Boy, it really is there." He sighed and glaoward us as he shrugged. "Id offer you a ride, but it wouldnt be half as nice as actually walking uhe stars, and I wouldnt want you two to miss it." He said this like he was doing us both a favor.
"Oh, were almost to my house anyway," Jamie said. "I was going to offer Landon a cup of cider. Would you like to meet us there? lenty."
A cup of cider? At her house? She hadiohat. . . .
I put my hands in my pocket, w if this could get any worse.
"Oh, no . . . thats all right. We were just heading off to Cecils Diner."
"On a school night?" she asked ily.
"Oh, we wo too late," he promised, "but we should probably be going. Enjoy your cider, you two."
"Thanks for stopping to say hello," Jamie said, waving.
Eric got the car rolling again, but slowly. Jamie probably thought he was a safe driver. He really wasnt, though he was good at getting out of trouble when hed crashed into something. I remember oime wheold his mother that a cow had jumped out in front of the car and thats why the grille and fender were damaged. "It happened so fast, Mom, the cow came out of nowhere. It just darted out in front of me, and I couldnt stop in time." Now, everyone knows cows doly dart anywhere, but his mother believed him. She used to be a head cheerleader, too, by the way.
Oheyd pulled out of sight, Jamie turo me and smiled.
"You have nice friends, Landon."
"Sure I do." Notice the careful way I phrased my answer.
After dropping Jamie off-no, I didnt stay for any cider-I started bay house, grumbling the whole time. By then Jamies story had left me pletely, and I could practically hear my friends laughing about me, all the way from Cecils Diner.
See what happens when youre a nice guy?
By the m everyo school knealking Jamie home, and this started up a new round of speculation about the two of us. This time it was even worse than before. It was so bad that I had to spend my lunch break in the library just to get away from it all.
That night, the rehearsal was at the Playhouse. It was the last one before the show opened, and we had a lot to dht after school, the boys in drama class had to load all the props in the classroom into the reruck to take them to the Playhouse. The only problem was that Eddie and I were the only two boys, and hes ly the most coordinated individual in history. Wed be walking through a doorway, carrying one of the heavier items, and his Hooville body would wainst him. At every critical moment when I really needed his help to balahe load, hed stumble over some dust or an i on the floor, and the weight of the prop would e crashing down on my fingers, ping them against the doorjamb in the most painful ossible.
"S-s-sorry," hed say. "D-d-did . . . th-th-that hurt?"
Id stifle the curses rising in my throat and bite out, "Just dont do it again."
But he couldnt stop himself from stumbling around any more than he could stop the rain from falling. By the time wed finished loading and unloading everything, my fingers looked like Tobys, the roving handyman. And the worst thing was, I didnt eve a ce to eat before rehearsal started. Moving the props had taken three hours, and we didnt finish setting them up until a few minutes before everyone else arrived to begin. With everything else that had happehat day, suffice it to say I was in a pretty bad mood.
I ran through my lines without even thinking about them, and Miss Garber didnt say the word marvelous all night long. She had this ed look in her eyes afterward, but Jamie simply smiled and told her not to worry, that everything was going to be all right. I knew Jamie was just trying to make things better for me, but when she asked me to walk her home, I told her no. The Playhouse was in the middle of town, and to walk her home, Id have to walk a good dista of my way. Besides, I didnt want to be seen again doing it. But Miss Garber had overheard Jamies request and she said, very firmly, that Id be glad to do it. "You two talk about the play," she said. "Maybe you work out the kinks." By kinks, of course, she meant me specifically.
So once more I ended up walking Jamie home, but she could tell I wasnt really in the mood to talk because I walked a little bit in front of her, my hands in my pockets, without even really turning back to see whether she was following. It went this way for the first few minutes, and I hadnt said a word to her.
"Youre not in a very good mood, are you?" she finally asked. "You didnt even try tonight."
"You dont miss a thing, do you?" I said sarcastically without looking at her.
"Maybe I help," she offered. She said it kind of happily, which made me even a little angrier.
"I doubt it," I snapped.
"Maybe if you told me what was wrong-"
I did her finish.
"Look," I said, stopping, turning to face her. "Ive just spent all day hauling crap, I haveen since lunch, and now I have to trek a mile out of my way to make sure you get home, wheh know you dont even need me to do it."
It was the first time Id ever raised my voice to her. To tell you the truth, it felt kind of good. It had been building up for a long time. Jamie was too surprised to respond, and I went on.
"And the only reason Im doing this is because of your father, who doesnt even like me. This whole thing is dumb, and I wish I had never agreed to do it."
"Youre just saying this because youre nervous about the play-"
I cut her off with a shake of my head.
Once I got on a roll, it was sometimes hard for me to stop. I could take her optimism and cheerfulness only so long, and today wasnt the day to push me too far.
"Dont you get it?" I said, exasperated. "Im not nervous about the play, I just dont want to be here. I dont want to walk you home, I dont want my friends to keep talking about me, and I dont want to spend time with you. You keep ag like were friends, but were not. Were not anything. I just want the whole thing to be over so I go bay normal life."
She looked hurt by my outburst, and to be ho, I couldnt blame her.
"I see," was all she said. I waited for her to raise her voice at me, to defend herself, to make her case again, but she didnt. All she did was look toward the ground. I think part of her wao cry, but she didnt, and I finally stalked away, leavianding by herself. A moment later, though, I heard her start moving, too. She was about five yards behihe rest of the way to her house, and she didnt try to talk to me again until she started up the walkway. I was already moving down the sidewalk when I heard her voice.
"Thank you for walking me home, Landon," she called out.
I winced as soon as she said it. Even when I was mean to her fad said the most spiteful things, she could find some reason to thank me. She was just that kind of girl, and I think I actually hated her for it.
Or rather, I think, I hated myself.
Chapter 8
The night of the play was cool and crisp, the sky absolutely clear without a hint of clouds. We had to arrive an hour early, and Id been feeling pretty bad all day about the way Id talked to Jamie the night before. Shed never been anything but o me, and I khat Id been a jerk. I saw her in the hallways between classes, and I wao go up to apologize to her for what Id said, but shed sort of slip bato the crowd before I got the ce.
She was already at the Playhouse by the time I finally arrived, and I saw her talking to Miss Garber and Hegbert, off to one side, over by the curtains.
Everyone was in motion, w off nervous energy, but she seemed strangely lethargic. She hadnt put on her e yet-she was supposed to wear a white, flowing dress to give that angelic appearand she was still wearing the same sweater shed worn at school. Despite my trepidation at how she might react, I walked up to the three of them.
"Hey, Jamie," I said. "Hello, Reverend . . . Miss Garber.”
Jamie turo me.
"Hello, Landon," she said quietly. I could tell shed been thinking about the night before, too, because she didnt smile at me like she always did when she saw me. I asked if I could talk to her alone, and the two of us excused ourselves. I could see Hegbert and Miss Garber watg us as we took a few steps off to the side, out of hearing distance.
I glanced around the stage nervously.
"Im sorry about those things I said last night," I began. "I know they probably hurt your feelings, and I was wrong to have said them.”
She looked at me, as if w whether to believe me.
"Did you mean those things you said?" she finally asked.
"I was just in a bad mood, thats all. I get sort of wound up sometimes." I knew I hadnt really answered her question.
"I see," she said. She said it as she had the night before, then turoward the empty seats in the audience. Again she had that sad look in her eyes.
"Look," I said, reag for her hand, "I promise to make it up to you." Dont ask me why I said it-it just seemed like the right thing to do at that moment.
For the first time that night, she began to smile.
"Thank you," she said, turning to face me.
"Jamie?”
Jamie turned. "Yes, Miss Garber?”
"I think were about ready for you." Miss Garber was motioning with her hand.
"Ive got to go," she said to me.
"I know.”
"Break a leg?" I said. Wishing someone luck before a play is supposed to be bad luck. Thats why everyoells you to "break a leg.”
I let go of her hand. "We both will. I promise.”
After that, we had to get ready, and we went our separate ways. I headed toward the mens dressing room. The Playhouse was fairly sophisticated, sidering that it was located in Beaufort, with separate dressing rooms that made us feel as if we were actual actors, as opposed to students.
My e, which was kept at the Playhouse, was already in the dressing room.
Earlier in the rehearsals wed had our measurements taken so that they could be altered, and I was getting dressed when Eric walked in the door unannounced.
Eddie was still in the dressing room, putting on his mute bums e, and when he saw Eric he got a look of terror in his eyes. At least once a week Eric gave him a wedgie, and Eddie kind of hightailed it out of there as fast as he could, pulling one leg up on his e on the way out the door. Eriored him and sat on the dressing table in front of the mirror.
"So," Eric said with a mischievous grin on his face, "what are you going to do?”
I looked at him curiously. "What do you mean?" I asked.
"About the play, stupid. You gonna flub up your lines or something?”
I shook my head. "No.”
"You gonna knock the props over?" Everyone knew about the props.
"I hadnt planned on it," I answered stoically.
"You mean yoing to do this thing straight up?”
I hinking otherwise hadnt even occurred to me.
He looked at me for a long time, as if he were seeing someone hed never seen before.
"I guess youre finally growing up, Landon," he said at last. ing from Eric, I wasnt sure whether it was intended as a pliment.
Either way, though, I knew he was right.
In the play, Tom Thornton is amazed when he first sees the angel, which is why he goes around helping her as she shares Christmas with those less fortunate.
The first words out of Toms mouth are, "Youre beautiful," and I was supposed to say them as if I meant them from the bottom of my heart. This was the pivotal moment iire play, and it sets the tone for everything else that happens afterward. The problem, however, was that I still hadnt his li.
Sure, I said the words, but they didnt e off too vingly, seeing as I probably said the words like anyone would when looking at Jamie, with the exception of Hegbert. It was the only se where Miss Garber had never said the wordmarvelous, so I was nervous about it. I kept trying to imagine someone else as the angel so that I could get it just right, but with all the other things I was trying to trate on, it kept getting lost in the shuffle.
Jamie was still in her dressing room when the curtains finally opened. I didnt see her beforehand, but that was okay. The first few ses didnt include her anyway-they were mainly about Tom Thornton and his relationship with his daughter.
Now, I didnt th藏书网ink Id be too nervous when I stepped out on stage, being that Id rehearsed so much, but it hits yht between the eyes when it actually happens. The Playhouse was absolutely packed, and as Miss Garber had predicted, theyd had to set up two extra rows of seats all the way across the back.
Normally the place sat four hundred, but with those seats there were at least another fifty people sitting down. In addition, people were standing against the walls, packed like sardines.
As soon as I stepped on stage, everyone was absolutely quiet. The crowd, I noticed, was mainly old ladi.９9lｉｂ.t>es of the blue-haired type, the kind that play bingo and drink Bloody Marys at Sunday brunch, though I could see Eric sitting with all my friends he back row. It was dht eerie, if you know what I mean, to be standing in front of them while everyone waited for me to say something.
So I did the best I could to put it out of my mind as I did the first few ses in the play. Sally, the one-eyed wonder, laying my daughter, by the way, because she was sort of small, and we went through our ses just as wed rehearsed them. her of us blew our lihough we werent spectacular or anything. When we closed the curtains for act two, we had to quickly reset the props. This time everyoched in, and my fingers escaped unscathed because I avoided Eddie at all costs.
I still hadnt seen Jamie-I guess she was exempt from moving props because her e was made of light material and would rip if she caught it on one of those nails-but I didnt have much time to think about her because of all we had to do. The hing I khe curtain ening again and I was ba Hegbert Sullivans world, walking past storefronts and looking in windows for the musiy daughter wants for Christmas. My back was turned from where Jamie entered, but I heard the crowd collectively draw a breath as soon as she appeared on stage. I thought it was silent before, but now it went absolutely hush still. Just then, from the er of my eye and off to the side of the stage, I saw Hegberts jaw quivering. I readied myself to turn around, and when I did, I finally saw what it was all about.
For the first time since Id known her, her honey-colored hair wasnt pulled into a tight bun. Instead it was hanging loosely, lohan I imagined, reag below her shoulder blades. There was a trace of glitter in her hair, and it caught the stage lights, sparkling like a crystal halo. Set against her flowing white dress tailored exactly for her, it was absolutely amazing to behold. She didnt look like the girl Id grown up with or the girl Id e retly to know. She wore a touakeup, too-not a lot, just enough t out the softness of her features. She was smiling slightly, as if she were holding a secret close to her heart, just like the part called for her to do.
She looked exactly like an angel.
I know my jaw dropped a little, and I just stood there looking at her for what seemed like a long time, shocked into silence, until I suddenly remembered that I had a line I had to deliver. I took a deep breath, then slowly let it out.
"Youre beautiful," I finally said to her, and I think everyone in the whole auditorium, from the blue-haired ladies in front to my friends in the back row, khat I actually meant it.
Id hat line for the very first time.
Chapter 9
To say that the play was a smashing success was to put it mildly. The audience laughed and the audience cried, which is pretty much what they were supposed to do. But because of Jamies prese really became something special-and I think everyone in the cast was as shocked as I was at how well the whole thing had e off. They all had that same look I did when I first saw her, and it made the play that much more powerful when they were perf their parts. We fihe first performahout a hitch, and the evening even more people showed up, if you believe it. Even Eric came up to me afterward and gratulated me, which after what hed said to me before was somewhat of a surprise.
"The two of you did good," he said simply. "Im proud of you, buddy.”
While he said it, Miss Garber was g out, "Marvelous!" to anyone who would listen to her or who just happeo be walking past, repeating it over and over so much that I kept on hearing it long after I went to bed that night. I looked for Jamie after wed pulled the curtains closed for the final time, and spotted her off to the side, with her father. He had tears in his eyes-it was the first time Id ever seen him cry-and Jamie went into his arms, and they held each other for a long time. He was stroking her hair and whispering, "My angel," to her while her eyes were closed, and even I felt myself choking up.
The &quht thing," I realized, wasnt so bad after all.
After they finally let go of each other, Hegbert proudly motioned for her to visit with the rest of the cast, and she got a boatload of gratulations from everyone backstage. She knew shed done well, though she kept on telling people she didnt know what all the fuss was about. She was her normal cheerful self, but with her looking so pretty, it came across in a totally different way. I stood in the background, letting her have her moment, and Ill admit there art of me that felt like old Hegbert. I couldnt help but be happy for her, and a little proud as well. When she finally saw me standing off to one side, she excused herself from the others and walked over, finally stopping when she was close.
Looking up at me, she smiled. "Thank you, Landon, for what you did. You made my father very happy.”
"Youre wele," I said, meaning it.
The strahing was, when she said it, I realized that Hegbert would be driving her home, and for once I wished that I would have had the opportunity to walk her there.
The following Monday was our last week of schbbr>ool before Christmas break, and finals were scheduled in every class. In addition, I had to finish my application for UNC, which Id sort of been putting off because of all the rehearsals. I planned on hitting the books pretty hard that week, then doing the application at night before I went to bed. Even so, I couldnt help but think about Jamie.
Jamies transformation during the play had been startling, to say the least, and I assumed it had signaled a ge in her. I dont know why I thought that way, but I did, and so I was amazed when she showed up our first m back dressed like her usual self: brower, hair in a bun, plaid skirt, and all.
One look was all it took, and I couldnt help but feel sorry for her. Shed been regarded as normal-even special-over the weekend, or so it had seemed, but shed somehow let it slip away. Oh, people were a little o her, and the ones who hadnt talked to her yet told her what a good job shed dooo, but I could tell right off that it wasnt going to last. Attitudes fed since childhood are hard to break, and part of me wondered if it might eve worse for her after this. Noeople actually knew she could look normal, they might even beore heartless.
I wao talk to her about my impressions, I really did, but I lanning to do so after the week was over. Not only did I have a lot to do, but I wanted a little time to think of the best way to tell her. To be ho, I was still feeling a little guilty about the things Id said to her on our last walk home, and it wasnt just because the play had turned out great. It had more to do with the fact that in all our time together, Jamie had never once been anything but kind, and I khat Id been wrong.
I didnt think she wao talk to me, either, to tell you the truth. I knew she could see me hanging out with my friends at lunch while she sat off in the er, reading her Bible, but she never made a move toward us. But as I was leaving school that day, I heard her voice behind me, asking me if I wouldnt mind walking her home. Even though I wasnt ready to tell her yet about my thoughts, I agreed. For old times sake, you see.
A mier Jamie got down to business.
"Do you remember those things you said on our last walk home?" she asked.
I nodded, wishing she hadnt brought it up.
"You promised to make it up to me," she said.
For a moment I was fused. I thought Id dohat already with my performan the play. Jamie went on.
"Well, Ive been thinking about what you could do," she tinued without letti a word in edgewise, "and this is what Ive e up with.”
She asked if I wouldnt mind gathering the pickle jars and coffee s shed set out in businesses all over town early in the year. They sat on the ters, usually he cash registers, so that people could drop their loose ge in. The money was to go to the orphans. Jamie never wao ask people straight out for the money, she wahem to give voluntarily. That, in her mind, was the Christian thing to do.
I remembered seeing the tainers in places like Cecils Diner and the Theater. My friends and I used to toss paper clips and slugs in there when the cashiers werent looking, sihey sounded sort of like a being dropped ihen wed chuckle to ourselves about hoere putting something over on Jamie. We used to joke about how shed open one of her s, expeg something good because of the weight, and shed dump it out and find nothing but slugs and paper clips. Sometimes, when you remember the things you used to do, it makes you wince, and thats exactly what I did.
Jamie saw the look on my face.
"You dont have to do it," she said, obviously disappointed. "I was just thinking that since Christmas is ing up so quickly and I dont have a car, itll simply take me too long to collect them all. . . .”
"No," I said cutting her off, "Ill do it. I dont have much to do anyway.”
So thats what I did starting Wednesday, even though I had tests to study for, even with that application needing to be finished. Jamie had given me a list of every place shed placed a , and I borrowed my moms car and started at the far end of town the following day. Shed put out about sixty s in all, and I figured that it would take only a day to collect them all. pared to putting them out, it would be a piece of cake. It had taken Jamie almost six weeks to do because shed first had to find sixty empty jars and s and then she could put out only two or three a day since she didnt have a car and could carry only so many at a time. When I started out, I felt sort of funny about being the one who picked up the s and jars, being that it was Jamies project, but I kept telling myself that Jamie had asked me to help.
I went from busio business, colleg the s and jars, and by end of the first day I realized it was going to take a little lohan Id thought.
Id picked up only about twenty tainers or so, because Id fotten one simple fact of life in Beaufort. In a small town like this, it was impossible to simply run inside and grab the without chatting with the proprietor or saying hello to someone else you might reize. It just wasnt done. So Id sit there while some guy would be talking about the marlin hed hooked last fall, or theyd ask me how school was going aion that they needed a hand unloading a few boxes in the baaybe they wanted my opinion oher they should move the magazine rack over to the other side of the store. Jamie, I knew, would have been good at this, and I tried to act like I thought she would wao. It was her project after all.
To keep things moving, I didnt stop to check the take iween the businesses. I just dumped one jar or into the , bining them as I went along. By the end of the first day all the ge acked in twe jars, and I carried them up to my room. I saw a few bills through the glass-not too many-but I wasnt actually nervous until I emptied the tents onto my floor and saw that the ge sisted primarily of pehough there werent nearly as many slugs or paper clips as Id thought there might be, I was still disheartened when I ted up the mohere was $20.32. Even in 1958 that wasnt a lot of money, especially when divided among thirty kids.
I did disced, though. Thinking that it was a mistake, I went out the day, hauled a few dozen boxes, and chatted with awenty proprietors while I collected s and jars. The take: $23.89.
The third day was even worse. After ting up the money, even I couldnt believe it. There was only $11.52. Those were from the businesses down by the waterfront, where the tourists and teenagers like me hung out. We were really something, I couldnt help but think.
Seeing how little had been collected in all-$55.73-made me feel awful, especially sidering that the jars had been out for almost a whole year and that I myself had seen them tless times. That night I was supposed to call Jamie to tell her the amount Id collected, but I just couldnt do it. Shed told me how shed wanted somethira special this year, and this wasnt going to do it-even I khat. Instead I lied to her and told her that I wasnt going to t the total until the two of us could do it together, because it was her projeot mi was just too depressing. I promised t over the mohe following afternoon, after school let out. The day was December 21, the shortest day of the year. Christmas was only four days away.
"Landon," she said to me after ting it up, "this is a miracle!”
"How much is there?" I asked. I kly how much it was.
"Theres almost two hundred and forty-seven dollars here!" She was absolutely joyous as she looked up at me. Since Hegbert was home, I was allowed to sit in the living room, and thats where Jamie had ted the money. It was stacked i little piles all over the floor, almost all quarters and dimes. Hegbert was i at the table, writing his sermon, and eveurned his head when he heard the sound of her voice.
"Do you think thats enough?" I asked ily.
Little tears were ing down her cheeks as she looked around the room, still not believing what she was seeing right in front of her. Even after the play, she hadnt been nearly this happy. She looked right at me.
"Its . . . wonderful," she said, smiling. There was more emotion than Id ever heard in her voice before. "Last year, I only collected seventy dollars.”
"Im glad it worked out better this year," I said through the lump that had formed in my throat. "If you hadnt placed those jars out so early in the year, you might not have collected nearly as much.”
I know I was lying, but I didnt care. For o was the right thing to do.
I didnt help Jamie pick out the toys-I figured shed know better what the kids would want anyway-but shed insisted that I go with her to the orphanage on Christmas Eve so that I could be there when the children opeheir gifts.
"Please, Landon," shed said, and with her being so excited and all, I just didnt have the heart to turn her down.
So three days later, while my father and mother were at a party at the mayors house, I dressed in a houndstooth jacket and my best tie and walked to my moms car with Jamies preseh my arm. Id spent my last few dollars on a nice sweater because that was all I could think to get her. She wasly the easiest person to shop for.
I was supposed to be at the orpha seven, but the bridge he Morehead City port, and I had to wait until an outbound freighter slowly made its way down the el. As a result, I arrived a few minutes late. The front door was already locked by that time, and I had to pound on it until Mr. Jenkins finally heard me. He fiddled through his set of keys until he found the right one, and a moment later he opehe door. I stepped inside, patting my arms to ward off the chill.
"Ah . . . youre here," he said happily. "Weve been waiting for you. , Ill take you to where everyone is.”
He led me down the hall to the re, the same place Id been before. I paused for just a moment to exhale deeply before finally heading in.
It was eveer than Id imagined.
In the ter of the room I saw a giant tree, decorated with tinsel and colored lights and a hundred different handmade ors. Beh the tree, spread in all dires, were ed gifts of every size and shape. They were piled high, and the children were on the floor, sitting close together in a large semicircle. They were dressed in their best clothes, I assumed-the boys wore navy blue slacks and white collared shirts, while the girls had on navy skirts and long-sleeved blouses. They all looked as if theyd ed up before the big event, and most of the boys had had their hair cut.
Oable beside the door, there was a bowl of pund platters of cookies, shaped like Christmas trees and sprinkled with green sugar. I could see some adults sitting with the children; a few of the smaller kids were sitting on the adults laps, their faces rapt with attention as they listeo " Twas the Night Before Christmas.”
I didnt see Jamie, though, at least nht off the bat. It was her voice that I reized first. She was the one reading the story, and I finally located her. She was sitting on the floor in front of the tree with her legs beh her.
To my surprise, I saw that tonight her hair hung loosely, just as it had the night of the play. Instead of the old brown cardigan Id seen so many times, she was wearing a red V-neck sweater that somehow atuated the color of her light blue eyes. Even without sparkles in her hair or a long white flowing dress, the sight of her was arresting. Without even notig it, Id been holding my breath, and I could see Mr. Jenkins smiling at me out of the er of my eye. I exhaled and smiled, trying tain trol.
Jamie paused only oo look up from the story. She noticed me standing in the doorway, the back to reading to the children. It took her another minute or so to finish, and when she did, she stood up and smoothed her skirt, then walked around the children to make her way toward me. Not knowing where she wanted me to go, I stayed where I was.
By then Mr. Jenkins had slipped away.
"Im sorry we started without you," she said when she finally reached me, "but the kids were just so excited.”
"Its okay," I said, smiling, thinking how nice she looked.
"Im so glad you could e.”
"So am I.”
Jamie smiled and reached for my hand to lead the way. " with me," she said.
"Help me hand out the gifts.”
We spent the hour doing just that, ached as the children opehem one by one. Jamie had shopped all over town, pig up a few things for each child in the room, individual gifts that theyd never received before. The gifts that Jamie bought werent the only ohe children received, however-both the orphanage and the people who worked there had bought some things as well. As paper was tossed around the room ied frenzy, there were squeals of delight everywhere. To me, at least, it seemed that all of the children had received far more than theyd expected, and they kept thanking Jamie over and over.
By the time the dust had finally settled and all the childrens gifts were opehe atmosphere began to calm down. The room was tidied up by Mr. Jenkins and a woman Id never met, and some of the smaller children were beginning to fall asleep beh the tree. Some of the older ones had already gone back to their rooms with their gifts, and theyd dimmed the overhead lights on the way out the door. The tree lights cast ahereal glow as "Silent Night" played softly on a phonograph that had bee up in the er. I was still sitting on the floor o Jamie, who was holding a young girl whod fallen asleep in her lap. Because of all the otion, we hadnt really had a ce to talk, not that either of us had minded. We were both gazing up at the lights oree, and I wondered what Jamie was thinking. If truth be told, I didnt know, but she had a tender look about her. I thought-no,I knew -she leased with how the evening had gone, and deep down, so was I. To this point it was the best Christmas Eve Id ever spent.
I gla her. With the lights glowing on her face, she looked as pretty as anyone Id ever seen.
"I bought you something," I finally said to her. "A gift, I mean." I spoke softly so I wouldnt wake the little girl, and I hoped it would hide the nervousness in my voice.
She turned from the tree to face me, smiling softly. "You didnt have to do that." She kept her voice low, too, and it sounded almost musical.
"I know," I said. "But I wao." Id kept the gift off to one side, and I reached for it, handing the gift-ed package to her.
"Could you open it for me? My hands are kind of full right now." She looked down at the little girl, then bae.
"You dont have to open it now, if youd rather not," I said, shrugging, "its really not that big of a deal.”
"Dont be silly," she said. "I would only open it in front of you.”
To clear my mind, I looked at the gift and started opening it, pig at the tape so that it wouldnt make muoise, then uning the paper until I reached the box. After setting the paper off to the side, I lifted the cover and pulled out the sweater, holding it up to show her. It was brown, like the ones she usually wore. But I figured she could use a new one.
pared with the joy Id seen earlier, I didnt expect much of a rea.
"See, thats all. I told you it wasnt much," I said. I hoped she wasnt disappointed in it.
"Its beautiful, Landon," she said early. "Ill wear it the ime I see you. Thank you.”
We sat quietly for a moment, and once again I began to look at the lights.
"I brought you something, too," Jamie finally whispered. She looked toward the tree, and my eyes followed her gaze. Her gift was still beh the tree, partially hidden by the stand, and I reached for it. It was regular, flexible, and a little heavy. I brought it to my lap and held it there without even trying to open it.
"Open it," she said, looking right at me.
"You t give this to me," I said breathlessly. I already knew what was inside, and I couldnt believe what she had done. My hands began to tremble.
"Please," she said to me with the ki voice Id ever heard, "open it. I want you to have it.”
Relutly I slowly uned the package. When it was finally free of the paper, I held it gently, afraid to damage it. I stared at it, mesmerized, and slowly ran my hand over the top, brushing my fingers over the well-worher as tears filled my eyes. Jamie reached out aed her hand on mi was warm and soft.
I gla her, not knowing what to say.
Jamie had given me her Bible.
"Thank you for doing what you did," she whispered to me. "It was the best Christmas Ive ever had.”
I turned away without responding and reached off to the side where Id set my glass of punch. The chorus of "Silent Night" was still playing, and the music filled the room. I took a sip of the punch, trying to soothe the sudden dryness in my throat. As I drank, all the times Id spent with Jamie came flooding into my mind. I thought about the homeing dand what shed done for me that night. I thought about the play and how angelic shed looked. I thought about the times Id walked her home and how Id helped collect jars and s filled with pennies for the orphans.
As these images were going through my head, my breathing suddenly went still. I looked at Jamie, then up to the ceiling and around the room, doing my best to keep my posure, then baie again. She smiled at me and I smiled at her and all I could do was wonder how Id ever fallen in love with a girl like Jamie Sullivan.
Chapter 10
I drove Jamie home from the orphaer that night. At first I wasnt sure whether I should pull the old yawn move and put my arm around her shoulder, but to be ho, I didnt kly how she was feeling about me. Granted, shed givehe most wonderful gift Id ever received, and even though Id probably never open it and read it like she did, I k was like giving a piece of herself away. But Jamie was the type of person who would donate a kido a stranger she met walking dowreet, if he really needed one. So I wasly sure what to make of it.
Jamie had told me ohat she wasnt a dimwit, and I guess I finally came to the clusion that she wasnt. She may have been . . . well, different . . .
but shed figured out what Id done for the orphans, and looking back, I think she knew even as we were sitting on the floor of her living room. When shed called it a miracle, I guess she was talking specifically about me.
Hegbert, I remembered, came into the room as Jamie and I were talking about it, but he really didnt have much to say. Old Hegbert hadnt been himself lately, at least as far as I could tell. Oh, his sermons were still on the money, aill talked about the fornicators, but lately his sermons were shorter than usual, and occasionally hed pause right in the middle of one and this strange look would e over him, kind of like he was thinking of something else, something sad.
I didnt know what to make of it, being that I really didnt know him that well.
And Jamie, whealked about him, seemed to describe someone else entirely.
I could no more imagine Hegbert with a sense of humor than I could imagiwo moons in the sky.
So anyway, he came into the room while we ted the money, and Jamie stood up with those tears in her eyes, and Hegbert didnt eveo realize I was there. He told her that he roud of her and that he loved her, but then he shuffled back to the kit to tinue w on his sermon. He didnt even say hello. Now, I knew I hadly been the most spiritual kid in the gregation, but I still found his behavior sort of odd.
As I was thinking about Hegbert, I gla Jamie sitting beside me. She was looking out the window with a peaceful look on her face, kind of smiling, but far away at the same time. I smiled. Maybe she was thinking about me. My hand started scooting across the seat closer to hers, but before I reached it, Jamie broke the silence.
"Landon," she finally asked as she turoward me, "do you ever think about God?”
I pulled my hand back.
Now, when I thought about God, I usually pictured him like those old paintings Id seen in churches-a giant h over the landscape, wearing a white robe, with long flowing hair, pointing his finger or something like that-but I knew she wasnt talking about that. She was talking about the Lords plan. It took a moment for me to answer.
"Sure," I said. "Sometimes, I re.”
"Do you ever wonder why things have to turn out the way they do?”
I nodded uainly.
"Ive been thinking about it a lot lately.”
Even more than usual? I wao ask, but I didnt. I could tell she had more to say, and I stayed quiet.
"I know the Lord has a plan for us all, but sometimes, I just dont uand what the message be. Does that ever happen to you?”
She said this as though it were something I thought about all the time.
"Well," I said, trying to bluff, "I dont think that were meant to uand it all the time. I think that sometimes we just have to have faith.”
It retty good answer, I admit. I guess that my feelings for Jamie were making my brain work a little faster than usual. I could tell she was thinking about my answer.
"Yes," she finally said, "youre right.”
I smiled to myself and ged the subject, sialking about God wasnt the sort of thing that made a person feel romantic.
"You know," I said casually, "it sure was onight when we were sitting by the tree earlier.”
"Yes, it was," she said. Her mind was still elsewhere.
"And you sure looked oo.”
"Thank you.”
This wasnt w too well.
" I ask you a question?" I finally said, in> the hopes ing her bae.
"Sure," she said.
I took a deep breath.
"After churorrow, and, well . . . after youve spent some time with your father . . . I mean . . ." I paused and looked at her. "Would you mind ing over to my house for Christmas dinner?”
Even though her face was still turoward the window, I could see the faint outlines of a smile as soon as Id said it.
"Yes, Landon, I would like that very much.”
I sighed with relief, not believing Id actually asked her and still w how all this had happened. I drove down streets where windows were decorated with Christmas lights, and through the Beaufort City Square. A couple of minutes later when I reached across the seat, I finally took hold of her hand, and to plete the perfect evening, she didnt pull it away.
When we pulled up in front of her house, the lights in the living room were still on and I could see Hegbert behind the curtains. I supposed he was waiting up because he wao hear how the eveni at the orphanage. Either that, or he wao make sure I didnt kiss his daughter on the doorstep. I knew hed frown on that sort of thing.
I was thinking about that-what to do when we finally said good-bye, I mean-whe out of the car and started toward the door. Jamie was quiet and tent at the same time, and I think she was happy that Id asked her to e over the day. Since shed been smart enough to figure out what Id done for the orphans, I figured that maybe shed been smart enough to figure out the homeing situation as well. In her mind, I think even she realized that this was the first time Id actually asked her to join me of my own volition.
Just as we got to her steps, I saw Hegbert peek out from behind the curtains and pull his face back. With some parents, like Angelas, for instahat meant they knew you were home and you had about another minute or so before theyd open the door. Usually that gave you both time to sort of bat your eyes at each other while each of you worked up the o actually kiss. It usually took about that long.
Now I didnt know if Jamie would kiss me; in fact, I actually doubted that she would. But with her looking so pretty, with her hair down and all, and everything that had happeonight, I didnt want to miss the opportunity if it came up. I could feel the little butterflies already starting to form in my stomach when Hegbert opehe door.
"I heard you pull up," he said quietly. His skin was that sallow color, as usual, but he looked tired.
"Hello, Reverend Sullivan," I said dejectedly.
"Hi, Daddy," Jamie said happily a sed later. "I wish you could have e tonight. It was wonderful.”
"Im so glad for you." He seemed to gather himself then and cleared his throat.
"Ill give you a bit to say good night. Ill leave the door open for you.”
He turned around a bato the living room. From where he sat down, I knew he could still see us. He preteo be reading, though I couldnt see what was in his hands.
"I had a wonderful time tonight, Landon," Jamie said.
"So did I," I answered, feeling Hegberts eyes on me. I wondered if he knew Id been holding her hand during the car ride home.
"What time should I e over tomorrow?" she asked.
Hegberts eyebrow raised just a little.
"Ill e over to get you. Is five oclock okay?”
She looked over her shoulder. "Daddy, would you mind if I visited with Landon and his parents tomorrow?”
Hegbert brought his hand to his eyes and started rubbing them. He sighed.
"If its important to you, you ," he said.
Not the most stirring vote of fidence Id ever heard, but it was good enough for me.
"What should I bring?" she asked. In the South it was tradition to always ask that question.
"You do anything," I answered. "Ill pick you up at a quarter to five.”
We stood there for a moment without saying anything else, and I could tell Hegbert was growing a little impatient. He hadnt turned a page of the book since wed been standing there.
"Ill see you tomorrow," she said finally.
"Okay," I said.
She glanced down at her feet for a moment, then back up at me. "Thank you for driving me home," she said.
With that, she turned around and walked inside. I could barely see the slight smile playily across her lips as she peeked around the door, just as it was about to close.
The day I picked her up right on schedule and leased to see that her hair was down once more. She was wearing the sweater Id given her, just like shed promised.
Both my mom and dad were a little surprised when Id asked if it would be all right if Jamie came by for dinner. It wasnt a big deal-whenever my dad was around, my mom would have Helen, our ake enough food for a small army.
I guess I didion that earlier, about the cook, I mean. In our house we had a maid and a cook, not only because my family could afford them, but also because my mom wasnt the greatest homemaker in the world. She was all right at making sandwiches for my lunow and then, but thered been times when the mustard would stain her nails, and it would take her at least three or four days to get over it. Without Helen I would have grown up eating burned mashed potatoes and chy steak. My father, luckily, had realized this as soon as they married, and both the cook and the maid had been with us since before I was born.
Though our house was larger than most, it wasnt a palace or anything, aher the cook nor the maid lived with us because we didnt have separate living quarters or anything like that. My father had bought the home because of its historical value. Though it wasnt the house where Blackbeard had once lived, which would have been more iing to someone like me, ithad been owned by Richard Dobbs Spaight, whod sighe stitution. Spaight had also owned a farm outside of New Bern, which was about forty miles up the road, and that was where he was buried. Our house might not have been as famous as the one where Dobbs Spaight was buried, but it still afforded my father some bragging rights in the halls of gress, and whenever he walked around the garden, I could see him dreaming about the legacy he wao leave. In a way it made me sad, because no matter what he did, hed op old Richard Dobbs Spaight.
Historical events like signing the stitution e along only once every few hundred years, and no matter how you sliced it, debating farm subsidies for tobacco farmers or talking about the "Red influence" was never going to cut it.
Even someone like me khat.
The house was iional Historic Register -still is, I suppose-and though Jamie had been there once before, she was still kind of awed when she walked inside. My mother and father were both dressed very nicely, as was I, and my mother kissed Jamie hello on the cheek. My mother, I couldnt help but think as I watched her do it, had scored before I did.
We had a nice dinner, fairly formal with four courses, though it wasnt stuffy or anything like that. My parents and Jamie carried on the most marvelous versation-think Miss Garber here-and though I tried to i my own brand of humor, it didnt really go over too well, at least as far as my parents were ed. Jamie, however, would laugh, and I took that as a good sign.
After dinner I invited Jamie to walk around the garden, even though it was winter and nothing was in bloom. After putting on our coats, we stepped outside into the chilled winter air. I could see our breaths ing out in little puffs.
"Your parents are wonderful people," she said to me. I guess she hadnt taken Hegberts sermons to heart.
"Theyre nice," I responded, "in their own way. My moms especially sweet." I said this not only because it was true, but also because it was the same thing that kids said about Jamie. I hoped she would get the hint.
She stopped to look at the rosebushes. They looked like gicks, and I didnt see what her i was in them.
"Is it true about yrandfather?" she asked me. "The stories that people tell?”
I guess she did my hint.
"Yes," I said, trying not to show my disappoi.
&qu９９ｌｉｂ?ot;Thats sad," she said simply. "Theres more to life than money.”
"I know.”
She looked at me. "Do you?”
I did her eyes as I answered. Dont ask me why.
"I know that what my grandfather did was wrong.”
"But you dont want to give it back, do you?”
"Ive never really thought about it, to tell you the truth.”
"Would you, though?”
I didnt answer right away, and Jamie turned from me. She was staring at the rosebushes with their gicks again, and I suddenly realized that shed wanted me to say yes. Its what she would have dohout thinking twice about it.
"Why do you do things like that?" I blurted out before I could stop myself, blood rushing into my cheeks. "Making me feel guilty, I mean. I wasnt the one who did it. I just happeo be born into this family.”
She reached out and touched a branch. "That doesnt mean you t undo it," she said gently, "when you get the opportunity.”
Her point was clear, even to me, and deep down I knew she was right. But that decision, if it ever came, was a long way off. To my way of thinking, I had more important things on my mind. I ged the subject baething I could relate to better.
"Does your father like me?" I asked. I wao know if Hegbert would allow me to see her again.
It took a moment for her to answer.
"My father," she said slowly, "worries about me.”
"Dont all parents?" I asked.
She looked at her feet, then off to the side again before turning bae.
"I think that with him, its different from most. But my father does like you, and he knows that it makes me happy to see you. Thats why he let m.９9lｉb?e e over to your house for dionight.”
"Im glad he did," I said, meaning it.
"So am I.”
We looked at each other uhe light of a waxing crest moon, and I almost kissed her right then, but she turned away a moment too soon and said something that sort of threw me.
"My father worries about you, too, Landon." The way she said it-it was soft and sad at the same time-let me know that it wasnt simply because he thought I was irresponsible, or that I used to hide behind the trees and call him names, or even that I was a member of the Carter family.
"Why?" I asked.
"For the same reason that I do," she said. She didnt elaborate any further, and I knew right then that she was holding something back, something that she couldnt tell me, something that made her sad as well. But it wasnt until later that I learned her secret.
Being in love with a girl like Jamie Sullivan was without a doubt the strahing Id ever been through. Not only was she a girl that Id hought about before this year-even though wed grown up together-but there was something different in the whole way my feelings for her had unfolded. This wasnt like being with Angela, whom Id kissed the first time I was ever aloh her. I still hadnt kissed Jamie. I hadnt even hugged her or takeo Cecils Diner or even to a movie. I hadnt done any of the things that I normally did with girls, yet somehow Id fallen in love.
The problem was, I still didnt know how she felt about me.
Oh sure, there were some indications, and I hadnt missed them. The Bible was, of course, the biggie, but there was also the way shed looked at me when shed closed the door on Christmas Eve, and shed let me hold her hand on the ride home from the orphao my way of thinking there was definitely something there-I just wasly sure of how to take the step.
When Id finally taken her home after Christmas dinner, Id asked if it would be okay if I came by from time to time, and shed said it would be fihats exactly how shed said it, too-"That would be fine." I didnt take the lack of enthusiasm personally-Jamie had a tendency to talk like an adult, and I think thats why she got along with older people so well.
The following day I walked to her house, and the first thing I noticed was that Hegberts car wasnt in the driveway. When she answered the door, I knew enough not to ask her if I could e in.
"Hello, Landon," she said as she always did, as if it were a surprise to see me.
Again her hair was down, and I took this as a positive sign.
"Hey, Jamie," I said casually.
She motioo the chairs. "My fathers not home, but we sit on the porch if youd like. . . .”
Dont even ask me how it happened, because I still t explain it. One sed I was standing there in front of her, expeg to walk to the side of the porch, and in the sed I wasnt. Instead of moving toward the chairs, I took a step closer to her and found myself reag for her hand. I took it in mine and looked right at her, moving just a little closer. She didly step back, but her eyes widened just a little, and for a tiny, flickering moment I thought Id dohe wrong thing aed going any further. I paused and smiled, sort of tilting my head to the side, and the hing I saw was that shed closed her eyes and was tilting her head, too, and that our faces were moving clether.
It wasnt that long, and it certainly wasnt the kind of kiss you see in movies these days, but it was wonderful in its own way, and all I remember about the moment is that when our lips first touched, I khe memory would last forever.
Chapter 11
"Youre the first boy Ive ever kissed," she said to me.
It was a few days before the new year, and Jamie and I were standing at the Iron Steamer Pier in Pine Knoll Shores. To get there, wed had to cross the bridge that spans the Intracoastal Waterway and drive a little way down the island.
Nowadays the place has some of the most expensive beachfront property iire state, but back then it was mainly sand dunes led against the Maritime National Forest.
"I figured I might have been," I said.
"Why?" she asked ily. "Did I do it wrong?" She didnt look like shed be too upset if Id said yes, but it wouldnt have beeruth.
"Youre a great kisser," I said, giving her hand a squeeze.
She nodded and turoward the o, her eyes getting that far-off look again. Shed been doing that a lot lately. I let it go on for a while before the silence sort of got to me.
"Are you okay, Jamie?" I finally asked.
Instead of answering, she ged the subject.
"Have you ever been in love?" she asked me.
I ran my hand through my hair and gave her one of those looks. "You mean before now?”
I said it like James Dean would have, the way Eric had told me to say it if a girl ever asked me that question. Eric retty slick with girls.
"Im serious, Landon," she said, tossing me a sidelong glance.
I guess Jamie had seen those movies, too. With Jamie, Id e to realize, I always seemed to be going from high to low and back to high again iime than it takes to swat a mosquito. I wasnt quite sure if I liked that 藏书网part of our relationship yet, though to be ho, it kept me on my toes. I was still feeling off balance as I thought about her question.
"Actually, I have," I said finally.
Her eyes were still fixed on the o. I think she thought I was talking about Angela, but looking back, Id realized that what Id felt fela was totally different from what I was feeling right now.
"How did you know it was love?" she asked me.
I watched the breeze gently moving her hair, and I khat it was no time to pretend I was something that I actually wasnt.
"Well," I said seriously, "you know its love when all you want to do is spend time with the other person, and you sort of know that the other persohe same way.”
Jamie thought about my answer before smiling faintly.
"I see," she said softly. I waited for her to add something else, but she didnt, and I came to another sudden realization.
Jamie may not have been all that experienced with boys, but to tell you the truth, she laying me like a harp.
During the wo days, for instance, she wore her hair in a bun again.
On New Years Eve I took Jamie out to dinner. It was the very first real date shed ever been on, and we went to a small waterfroaurant in Morehead City, a place called Flauvins. Flauvins was the kind of restaurant with tablecloths and dles and five different pieces of silverer setting. The waiters wore blad white, like butlers, and when you looked out the giant windows that pletely lihe wall, you could watch moonlight refleg off the slowly moving water.
There ianist and a sioo, not every night or even every weekend, but on holidays whehought the place would be full. I had to make reservations, and the first time I called they said they were filled, but I had my mom call them, and the hing you knew, something had opened up. I guess the owner needed a favor from my father or something, or maybe he just didnt want to make him angry, knowing that my grandfather was still alive and all.
It was actually my moms idea to take Jamie out someplace special. A couple of days before, on one of those days Jamie was wearing her hair in a bun, I talked to my mom about the things I was going through.
"Shes all I think about, Mom," I fessed. "I mean, I know she likes me, but I dont know if she feels the same way that I do.”
"Does she mean that much to you?" she asked.
"Yes," I said quietly.
"Well, what have you tried so far?”
"What do you mean?”
My mom smiled. "I mean that young girls, even Jamie, like to be made to feel special.”
I thought about that for a moment, a little fused. Wasnt that what I was trying to do?
"Well, Ive been going to her house every day to visit," I said.
My mom put her hand on my knee. Even though she wasnt a great homemaker and sometimes stuck it to me, like I said earlier, she really was a sweet lady.
"Going to her house is a hing to do, but its not the most romantic thing there is. You should do something that will really let her know how you feel about her.”
My mom suggested buying some perfume, and though I khat Jamie would probably be happy to receive it, it didnt sound right to me. For ohing, since Hegbert didnt allow her to wear makeup-with the single exception being the Christmas play-I was sure she couldnt erfume. I told my mom as much, and that was when shed suggested taking her out to dinner.
"I dont have any money left," I said to her dejectedly. Though my family was wealthy and gave me an allowahey never gave me more if I ran through it too quickly. "It builds responsibility," my father said, explaining it once.
"What happeo your money in the bank?”
I sighed, and my mom sat in silence while I explained what I had done. When I finished, a look of quiet satisfa crossed her face, as if she, too, knew I was finally growing up.
"Let me worry about that," she said softly. "You just find out if shed like to go and if Reverend Sullivan will allow it. If she , well find a way to make it happen. I promise.”
The following day I went to the church. I khat Hegbert would be in his office. I hadnt asked Jamie yet because I figured she would need his permission, and for some reason I wao be the one who asked. I guess it had to do with the fact that Hegbert hadly been welih open arms when I visited. Whenever hed see me ing up the walkway-like Jamie, he had a sixth sense about it-hed peek out the curtains, then quickly pull his head back behind them, thinking that I hadnt seen him. When I knocked, it would take a long time for him to ahe door, as if he had to e from the kit.
Hed look at me for a long moment, then sigh deeply and shake his head before finally saying hello.
His door artially open, and I saw him sitting behind his desk, spectacles propped on his nose. He was looking over some papers-they looked almost financial-and I figured he was trying to figure out the church budget for the following year. Even ministers had bills to pay.
I k the door, and he looked up with i, as if he expected another member of the gregation, then furrowed his brow when he saw that it was me.
"Hello, Reverend Sullivan," I said politely. "Do you have a moment?”
He looked even more tired than usual, and I assumed he wasnt feeling well.
"Hello, Landon," he said wearily.
Id dressed sharply for the occasion, by the way, with a jacket and tie. "May I e in?”
He nodded slightly, and I ehe office. He motioned for me to sit in the chair across from his desk.
"What I do for you?" he asked.
I adjusted myself nervously in the chair. "Well, sir, I wao ask you something.”
He stared at me, studying me before he finally spoke. "Does it have to do with Jamie?" he asked.
I took a deep breath.
"Yes, sir. I wao ask if it would be all right with you if I took her to dinner on New Years Eve.”
He sighed. "Is that all?" he said.
"Yes, sir," I said. "Ill bring her home any time youd need me to.”
He took off his spectacles and wiped them with his handkerchief before putting them ba. I could tell he was taking a moment to think about it.
"Will your parents be joining you?" he asked.
"No, sir.”
"Then I dont think that will be possible. But thank you for asking my permission first." He looked down at the papers, making it clear it was time for me to leave. I stood from my chair and started toward the door. As I was about to go, I faced him again.
"Reverend Sullivan?”
He looked up, surprised I was still there. "Im sorry for those things I used to do when I was younger, and Im sorry that I didnt always treat Jamie the way she should have beeed. But from now on, things will ge. I promise you that.”
He seemed to lht through me. It wasnt enough.
"I love her," I said finally, and when I said it, his attention focused on me again.
"I know you do," he answered sadly, "but I dont want to see her hurt." Even though I must have been imagining it, I thought I saw his eyes begin to water.
"I wouldnt do that to her," I said.
He turned from me and looked out the window, watg as the winter sun tried to force its way through the clouds. It was a gray day, cold and bitter.
"Have her home by ten," he finally said, as though he knew hed made the wrong decision.
I smiled and wao thank him, though I didnt. I could tell that he wao be alone. When I glanced over my shoulder on my way out the door, I uzzled to see his fa his hands.
I asked Jamie an hour later. The first thing she said was that she didnt think she could go, but I told her that Id already spoken to her father. She seemed surprised, and I think it had an effe how she viewed me after that. The ohing I didnt tell her was that it looked almost as though Hegbert had been g as Id made my way out the door. Not only didnt I uand it pletely, I didnt wao worry. That night, though, after talking to my mom again, she provided me with a possible explanation, and to be ho, it made perfect seo me. Hegbert must have e to the realization that his daughter was growing up and that he was slowly losio me. In a way, I hoped that was true.
I picked her up right on schedule. Though I hadnt asked her to wear her hair down, shed do for me. Silently we drove over the bridge, dowerfront to the restaurant. Whe to the hostess stand, the owner himself appeared and walked us to our table. It was one of the better ones in the place.
It was crowded by the time we arrived, and all around us people were en..joying themselves. On Neeople dressed fashionably, and we were the only two teenagers in the place. I didnt think we looked too out of place, though.
Jamie had never been to Flauvins before, and it took her just a few mio take it all in. She seemed nervously happy, and I knew right away that my mom had made the right suggestion.
"This is wonderful," she said to me. "Thank you for asking me.”
"My pleasure," I said sincerely.
"Have you been here before?”
"A few times. My mother and father like to e here sometimes when my father es home from Washington.”
She looked out the window and stared at a boat that assing by the restaurant, its lights blazing. For a moment she seemed lost in wonder. "Its beautiful here," she said.
"So are you," I answered.
Jamie blushed. "You dohat.”
"Yes," I said quietly, "I do.”
We held hands while we waited for dinner, and Jamie and I talked about some of the things that had happened in the past few months. She laughed whealked about the homeing dance, and I finally admitted the reason Id asked her in the first place. She was a good sport about it-she sort of laughed it off cheerfully-and I khat shed already figured it out on her own.
"Would you want to take me again?" she teased.
"Absolutely.”
Dinner was delicious-we both ordered the sea bass and salads, and when the waiter finally removed our plates, the music started up. We had an hour left before I had to take her home, and I offered her my hand.
At first we were the only ones on the floor, everyog us as we glided around the floor. I think they all knee were feeling about each other, and it remihem of when they were young, too. I could see them smiling wistfully at us. The lights were dim, and when the singer began a slow melody, I held her close to me with my eyes closed, w if anything in my life had ever been this perfed knowing at the same time that it hadnt.
I was in love, and the feeling was even more wonderful than I ever imagi could be.
After New Years we spent the week and a half together, doing the things that young couples did back then, though from time to time she seemed tired and listless. We spent time down by the Neuse River, tossing stones ier, watg the ripples while we talked, or we went to the beaear Fort Ma.
Even though it was wihe o the color of iron, it was something that both of us enjoyed doing. After an hour or so Jamie would ask me to take her home, and wed hold hands in the car. Sometimes, it seemed, she would almost nod off before we even got home, while other times she would keep up a stream of chatter all the way back so that I could barely get a word in edgewise.
Of course, spending time with Jamie also meant doing the things she enjoyed as well. Though I wouldnt go to her Bible study class-I didnt want to look like an idiot in front of her-we did visit the orphawice more, and each time we went there, I felt more at home. Ohough, wed had to leave early, because she was running a slight fever. Even to my untrained eyes, it was clear that her face was flushed.
We kissed again, too, though not every time we were together, and I didnt even think to make it to sed base. There wasnt ao. There was something nice when I kissed her, somethile and right, and that was enough for me. The more I did it, the more I realized that Jamie had been misuood her entire life, not only by me, but by everyone.
Jamie wasnt simply the ministers daughter, someone who read the Bible and did her best to help others. Jamie was also a seventeen-year-old girl with the same hopes and doubts that I had. At least, thats what I assumed, until she finally told me.
Ill never fet that day because of how quiet she had been, and I had the funny feeling all day long that something important was on her mind.
I was walking her home from Cecils Diner ourday before school started up again, a day blustery with a fierce, biting wind. A er had been blowing in sihe previous m, and while we walked, wed had to stand close to each other to stay warm. Jamie had her arm looped through mine, and we were walking slowly, even more slowly than usual, and I could tell she wasnt feeling well again. She hadnt really wao go with me because of the weather, but Id asked her because of my friends. It was time, I remember thinking, that they finally knew about us. The only problem, as fate would have it, was that no one else was at Cecils Diner. As with many coastal uhings were quiet oerfront in the middle of winter.
She was quiet as we walked, and I khat she was thinking of a way to tell me something. I didnt expect her to start the versation as she did.
"People think Im strange, dont they," she finally said, breaking the silence.
"Who do you mean?" I asked, even though I khe answer.
"People at school.”
"No, they dont," I lied.
I kissed her cheek as I squeezed her arm a little tighter to me. She winced, and I could tell that Id hurt her somehow.
"Are you okay?" I asked, ed.
"Im fine," she said, regaining her posure and keeping the subje track.
"Will you do me a favor, though?”
"Anything," I said.
"Will you promise to tell me the truth from now on? I mean always?”
"Sure," I said.
She stopped me suddenly and looked right at me. "Are you lying to me right now?”
"No," I said defensively, w where this was going. "I promise that from now on, Ill always tell you the truth.”
Somehow, when I said it, I khat Id e tret it.
We started walking again. As we moved dowreet, I gla her hand, which was looped through mine, and I saw a large bruise just below her ring finger. I had no idea where it had e from, si hadhere the day before. For a sed I thought it might have been caused by me, but then I realized that I hadnt even touched her there.
"People think Im strange, dont they?" she asked again.
My breath was ing out in little puffs.
"Yes," I finally answered. It hurt me to say it.
"Why?" She looked almost despo.
I thought about it. "People have different reasons," I said vaguely, doing my best not to go any further.
"But why, exactly? Is it because of my father? Or is it because I try to be o people?”
I didnt want anything to do with this.
"I suppose," was all I could say. I felt a little queasy.
Jamie seemed disheartened, and we walked a little farther in silence.
"Do you think Im straoo?" she asked me.
The way she said it made me ache more than I thought it would. We were almost at her house before I stopped her and held her close to me. I kissed her, and when we pulled apart, she looked down at the ground.
I put my finger beh her , lifting her head up and making her look at me again. "Youre a wonderful person, Jamie. Youre beautiful, youre kind, yentle . . . youre everything that Id like to be. If people dont like you, or they think youre strahen thats their problem.”
In the grayish glow of a cold winter day, I could see her lower lip begin to tremble. Mine was doing the same thing, and I suddenly realized that my heart eeding up as well. I9９ｌiｂ? looked in her eyes, smiling with all the feeling I could muster, knowing that I couldhe words inside any longer.
"I love you, Jamie," I said to her. "Youre the best thing that ever happeo me.”
It was the first time Id ever said the words to another person besides a member of my immediate family. When Id imagined saying it to someone else, Id somehow thought it would be hard, but it wasnt. Id never been more sure of anything.
As soon as I said the words, though, Jamie bowed her head and started to cry, leaning her body into mine. I ed my arms around her, w what was wrong. She was thin, and I realized for the first time that my arms went all the way around her. Shed lost weight, even in the last week and a half, and I remembered that shed barely touched her food earlier. She kept g into my chest for what seemed like a long time. I wasnt sure what to think, or even if she felt the same way I did. Even so, I did the words. The truth is always the truth, and Id just promised her that I would never lie again.
"Please dont say that," she said to me. "Please . . .”
"But I do," I said, thinking she didnt believe me.
She began to cry even harder. "Im sorry," she whispered to me through her ragged sobs. "Im so, so sorry. . . .”
My throat suddenly went dry.
"Whyre you sorry?" I asked, suddenly desperate to uand what was b her. "Is it because of my friends and what theyll say? I dont care anymore-I really dont." I was reag for anything, fused and, yes-scared.
It took another long moment for her to st, and in time she looked up at me. She kissed me gently, almost like the breath of a passerby on a city street, then ran her finger over my cheek.
"You t be in love with me, Landon," she said through red and swollen eyes.
"We be friends, we see each other . . . but yout love me.”
"Why not?" I shouted hoarsely, not uanding any of this.
"Because," she finally said softly, "Im very sick, Landon.”
The cept was so absolutely fn that I couldnt prehend what she was trying to say.
"So what? Youll take a few days . . .”
A sad smile crossed her face, and I knew right then what she was trying to tell me. Her eyes never left mine as she finally said the words that numbed my soul.
"Im dying, Landon.”
Chapter 12
She had leukemia; shed known it since last summer.
The moment she told me, the blood drained from my fad a sheaf of dizzying images fluttered through my mind. It was as though in that brief moment, time had suddenly stopped and I uood everything that had happened between us. I uood why shed wanted me to do the play: I uood why, after wed performed that first night, Hegbert had whispered to her with tears in his eyes, calling her his angel; I uood why he looked so tired all the time and why he fretted that I kept ing by the house. Everything became absolutely clear.
Why she wanted Christmas at the orphao be so special . . .
Why she didnt think shed go to college . . .
Why shed given me her Bible . . .
It all made perfect sense, and at the same time, nothing seemed to make any se all.
Jamie Sullivan had leukemia . . .
Jamie, sweet Jamie, was dying . . .
My Jamie. . .
"No, no," I whispered to her, "there has to be some mistake. . . .”
But there wasnt, and wheold me again, my world went blank. My head started to spin, and I g thtly to keep from losing my balance. Oreet I saw a man and a woman, walking toward us, heads bent and their hands on their hats to keep them from blowing away. A dog trotted across the road and stopped to smell some bushes. A neighbor across the way was standing on a stepladder, taking down his Christmas lights. Normal ses from everyday life, things I would never have noticed before, suddenly making me feel angry. I closed my eyes, wanting the whole thing to go away.
"Im so sorry, Landon," she kept saying over and over. It was I who should have been saying it, however. I know that now, but my fusio me from saying anything.
Deep down, I k wouldnt go away. I held her again, not knowing what else to do, tears filling my eyes, trying and failing to be the rock I think she needed.
We cried together oreet for a long time, just a little way down the road from her house. We cried some more when Hegbert opehe door and saw our faces, knowing immediately that their secret was out. We cried wheold my mother later that afternoon, and my mother held us both to her bosom and sobbed so loudly that both the maid and the cook wao call the doctor because they thought something had happeo my father. On Sunday Hegbert made the annouo his gregation, his face a mask of anguish and fear, and he had to be helped back to his seat before hed even finished.
Everyone in the gregation stared in silent disbelief at the words theyd just heard, as if they were waiting for a punch lio some horrible joke that none of them could believe had been told. Then all at ohe wailing began.
We sat with Hegbert the day she told me, and Jamie patiently answered my questions. She didnt know how long she had left, she told me. No, there wasnt anything the doctors could do. It was a rare form of the disease, theyd said, ohat didnt respond to available treatment. Yes, when the school year had started, shed felt fi wasnt until the last few weeks that shed started to feel its effects.
"Thats how it progresses," she said. "You feel fine, and then, when your body t keep fighting, you dont.”
Stifling my tears, I couldnt help but think about the play.
"But all those rehearsals . . . those long days . . . maybe you shouldnt have-”
"Maybe," she said, reag for my hand and cutting me off. "Doing the play was the thing that kept me healthy for so long.”
Later, she told me that seven months had passed since shed been diaghe doctors had given her a year, maybe less.
These days it might have been different. These days they could have treated her.
These days Jamie would probably live. But this was happening forty years ago, and I knew what that meant.
Only a miracle could save her.
"Why didnt you tell me?”
This was the one question I hadnt asked her, the ohat Id been thinking about. I hadnt slept that night, and my eyes were still swollen. Id gone from shock to denial to sado anger and back again, all night long, wishing it werent so and praying that the whole thing had been some terrible nightmare.
We were in her living room the following day, the day that Hegbert had made the annouo the gregation. It was January 10, 1959.
Jamie didnt look as depressed as I thought she would. But then again, shed been living with this for seven months already. She and Hegbert had been the only oo know, aher of them had trusted even me. I was hurt by that and frighte the same time.
"Id made a decision," she explaio me, "that it would be better if I told no one, and I asked my father to do the same. You saw how people were after the services today. No one would even look me in the eye. If you had only a few months left to live, is that what you would want?”
I knew she was right, but it didnt make it any easier. I was, for the first time in my life, pletely and utterly at a loss.
Id never had anyone close to me die before, at least not ahat I could remember. My grandmother had died when I was three, and I dont remember a sihing about her or the services that had followed or even the few years after her passing. Id heard stories, of course, from both my father and my grandfather, but to me thats exactly what they were. It was the same as hearing stories I might otherwise read in a neer about some woman I never really khough my father would take me with him whe flowers on her grave, I never had any feelings associated with her. I felt only for the people shed left behind.
No one in my family or my circle of friends had ever had to front something like this. Jamie was seventeen, a child on the verge of womanhood, dying and still very much alive at the same time. I was afraid, more afraid than Id ever been, not only for her, but for me as well. I lived in fear of doing something wrong, of doing something that would offend her. Was it okay to ever get angry in her presence? Was it okay to talk about the future anymore? My fear made talking to her difficult, though she atient with me.
My fear, however, made me realize something else, something that made it all worse. I realized Id never even known her when shed beehy. I had started to spend time with her only a few months earlier, and Id been in love with her for oeen days. Those eighteen days seemed like my entire life, but now, when I looked at her, all I could do was wonder how many more days there would be.
On Monday she didnt show up for school, and I somehow khat shed never walk the hallways again. Id never see her reading the Bible off by herself at lunch, Id never see her brown cardigan moving through the crowd as she made her way to her class. She was finished with school forever; she would never receive her diploma.
I couldnt trate on anything while I sat in class that first day back, listening as teacher after teacher told us what most of us had already heard.
The responses were similar to those in chur Sunday. Girls cried, boys hung their heads, people told stories about her as if she were already gone. What we do? they wondered aloud, and people looked to me for answers.
"I dont know," was all I could say.
I left school early ao Jamies, blowing off my classes after lunch.
When I k the door, Jamie answered it the way she always did, cheerfully and without, it seemed, a care in the world.
"Hello, Landon," she said, "this is a surprise.”
When she leaned in to kiss me, I kissed her back, though the whole thing made me want to cry.
"My father isnt hht now, but if youd like to sit on the porch, we .”
"How you do this?" I asked suddenly. "How you pretend that nothing is wrong?”
"Im not pretending that nothing is wrong, Lando me get my coat and well sit outside and talk, okay?”
She smiled at me, waiting for an answer, and I finally nodded, my lips pressed together. She reached out and patted my arm.
"Ill be right back," she said.
I walked to the chair and sat down, Jamie emerging a moment later. She wore a heavy coat, gloves, and a hat to keep her warm. The er had passed, and the day wasnt nearly as cold as it had beehe weekend. Still, though, it was too much for her.
"You werent in school today," I said.
She looked down and nodded. "I know.”
"Are you ever going to e back?" Even though I already khe answer, I o hear it from her.
"No," she said softly, "Im not.”
"Why? Are you that sick already?" I started to tear up, and she reached out and took my hand.
"No. Today I feel pretty good, actually. Its just that I want to be home in the ms, before my father has to go to the office. I want to spend as much time with him as I .”
Before I die,she meant to say but didnt. I felt ed and couldnt respond.
"When the doctors first told us," she went on, "they said that I should try to lead as normal a life as possible for as long as I could. They said it would help me keep my strength up.”
"Theres nothing normal about this," I said bitterly.
"I know.”
"Arent yhtened?”
Somehow I expected her to sayno, to say something wise like a grown-up would, or to explain to me that resume to uand the Lords plan.
She looked away. "Yes," she finally said, "Im frightened all the time.”
"Then why dont you act like it?”
"I do. I just do it in private.”
"Because you dont trust me?”
"No," she said, "because I know youre frighteoo.”
I began to pray for a miracle.
They supposedly happen all the time, and Id read about them in neers.
People regaining use of their limbs after being told theyd never walk again, or somehow surviving a terrible act when all hope was lost. Every now and then a traveling preachers tent would be set up outside of Beaufort, and people would go there to watch as people were healed. Id been to a couple, and though I assumed that most of the healing was no more than a slick magic show, since I never reized the people who were healed, there were occasionally things that even I couldnt explain. Old man Sweehe baker here in town, had been in the Great War fighting with an artillery unit behind the trenches, and months of shelling the enemy had left him deaf in one ear. It wasnt an act-he really couldnt hear a sihing, and thered been times when we were kids that wed been able to sneak off with a amon roll because of it. But the preacher started praying feverishly and finally laid his hand upon the side of Sweeneys head. Sweeney screamed out loud, making people practically jump out of their seats. He had a terrified look on his face, as if the guy had touched him with a white-hot poker, but then he shook his head and looked around, uttering the words "I hear again." Even he couldnt believe it. "The Lord," the preacher had said as Sweeney made his way back to his seat, " do anything. The Lord listens to our prayers.”
So that night I opehe Bible that Jamie had given me for Christmas and began to read. Now, Id heard all about Bible in Sunday school or at church, but to be frank, I just remembered the highlights-the Lord sending the seven plagues so the Israelites could leave Egypt, Jonah being swallowed by a whale, Jesus walking across the water or raising Lazarus from the dead. There were gies, too. I khat practically every chapter of the Bible has the Lord doing something spectacular, but I hadnt learhem all. As Christians we leaned heavily on teags of the estament, and I didnt know the first things about books like Joshua or Ruth or Joel. The first night I read through Genesis, the sed night I read through Exodus. Leviticus was , followed by Numbers and theeronomy. The going got a little slow duriain parts, especially as all the laws were being explained, yet I couldnt put it down. It was a pulsion that I didnt fully uand.
It was late one night, and I was tired by the time I eventually reached Psalms, but somehow I khis was what I was looking for. Everyone has heard the Twenty-third Psalm, which starts, "The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want," but I wao read the others, sinone of them were supposed to be more important thahers. After an hour I came across an underlined se that I assumed Jamie had noted because it meant something to her. This is what it said:I cry to you, my Lord, my rock! Do not be deaf to me, for if you are silent, I shall go down to the pit like the rest. Hear my voice raised iion as I cry to you for help, as I raise my hands, my Lord, toward your holy of holies.
I closed the Bible with tears in my eyes, uo finish the psalm.
Somehow I knew shed underli for me.
"I dont know what to do," I said numbly, staring into the dim light of my bedroom lamp. My mom and I were sitting on my bed. It was ing up on the end of January, the most difficult month of my life, and I khat in February things would only get worse.
"I know this is hard for you," she murmured, "but theres nothing you do.”
"I dont mean about Jamie being sick-I know theres nothing I do about that.
I mean about Jamie and me.”
My mother looked at me sympathetically. She was worried about Jamie, but she was also worried about me. I went on.
"Its hard for me to talk to her. All I do when I look at her is think about the day when I wont be able to. So I spend all my time at school thinking about her, wishing I could see her right then, but when I get to her house, I dont know what to say.”
"I dont know if theres anything you say to make her feel better.”
"Then what ?should I do?”
She looked at me sadly and put her arm around my shoulder. "You really love her, dont you," she said.
"With all my heart.”
She looked as sad as Id ever seen her. "Whats your heart telling you to do?”
"I dont know.”
"Maybe," she said gently, "youre trying too hard to hear it.”
The day I was better with Jamie, though not much. Before Id arrived, Id told myself that I wouldnt say anything that might get her down-that Id try to talk to her like I had before-and thats exactly how it went. I sat myself on her coud told her about some of my friends and what they were doing; I caught her up on the success of the basketball team. I told her that I still hadnt heard from UNC, but that I was hopeful Id know within the few weeks. I told her I was looking forward to graduation. I spoke as though shed be back to school the following week, and I knew I sounded nervous the eime. Jamie smiled and the appropriate times, asking questions every now and then. But I thih knew by the time I fialking that it was the last time I would do it. It didnt feel right to either of us.
My heart was telling me exactly the same thing.
I turo the Bible again, in the hope that it would guide me.
"How are you feeling?" I asked a couple of days later.
By now Jamie had lost more weight. Her skin was beginning to take on a slightly grayish tint, and the bones in her hands were starting to show through her skin.
Again I saw bruises. We were inside her house in the living room; the cold was too much for her to bear.
Despite all this, she still looked beautiful.
"Im doing okay," she said, smiling valiantly. "The doctors have given me some medie for the pain, and it seems to help a little.”
Id been ing by every day. Time seemed to be slowing down and speeding up at exactly the same time.
" I get anything for you?”
"No, thank you, Im doing fine.”
I looked around the room, then back at her.
"Ive been reading the Bible," I finally said.
"You have?" Her face lit up, reminding me of the angel Id seen in the play. I couldnt believe that only six weeks had gone by.
"I wanted you to know.”9９ｌｉb?
"Im glad you told me.”
"I read the book of Job last night," I said, "where God stuck it to Job to test his faith.”
She smiled and reached out to pat my arm, her hand soft on my skin. It felt nice. "You should read something else. Thats not about God in one of his better moments.”
"Why would he have dohat to him?”
"I dont know," she said.
"Do you ever feel like Job?”
She smiled, a little twinkle in her eyes. "Sometimes.”
"But you havent lost your faith?”
"No." I knew she hadnt, but I think I was losing mine.
"Is it because you think you might get better?”
"No," she said, "its because its the only thing I have left.”
After that, we started reading the Bible together. It somehow seemed like the right thing to do, but my heart was heless tellihat there still might be something more.
At night I lay awake, w about it.
Reading the Bible gave us something to focus on, and all of a suddehing started to get better between us, maybe because I wasnt as worried about doing something to offend her. What could be mht than reading the Bible? Though I didnt know nearly as much as she did about it, I think she appreciated the gesture, and occasionally when we read, shed put her hand on my knee and simply listen as my voice filled the room.
Other times Id be sitting beside her on the couch, looking at the Bible and watg Jamie out of the er of my eye at the same time, and wed e across a passage or a psalm, maybe even a proverb, and Id ask her what she thought about it. She always had an answer, and Id nod, thinking about it.
Sometimes she asked me what I thought, and I did my best, too, though there were moments when I was bluffing and I was sure that she could tell. "Is that what it really means to you?" shed ask, and Id rub my and think about it before trying again. Sometimes, though, it was her fault when I couldnt trate, what with that hand on my knee and all.
One Friday night I brought her over for di my house. My mom joined us for the main course, thehe table and sat in the den so that we could be alone.
It was here, sitting with Jamie, and I knew she felt the same way. She hadnt been leaving her house much, and this was a good ge for her.
Since shed told me about her illness, Jamie had stopped wearing her hair in a bun, and it was still as stunning as it had been the first time Id seen her wear it down. She was looking at the a et-my mom had one of those ets with the lights inside-when I reached across the table and took her hand.
"Thank you for ing over tonight," I said.
She turned her attention bae. "Thanks for inviting me.”
I paused. "Hows your father holding up?”
Jamie sighed. "Not too well. I worry about him a lot.”
"He loves you dearly, you know.”
"I know.”
"So do I," I said, and when I did, she looked away. Hearing me say this seemed thten her again.
"Will you keep ing over to my house?" she asked. "Even later, you know, when . . . ?”
I squeezed her hand, not hard, but enough to let her know that I meant what I said.
"As long as you wao e, Ill be there.”
"We dont have to read the Bible anymore, if you dont want to.”
"Yes," I said softly, "I think we do.”
She smiled. "Youre a good friend, Landon. I dont know what Id do without you.”
She squeezed my hand, returning the favor. Sitting across from me, she looked radiant.
"I love you, Jamie," I said again, but this time she wasnt frightened. Instead our eyes met across the table, and I watched as hers began to shine. She sighed and looked away, running her hand through her hair, then turo me again. I kissed her hand, smiling iurn.
"I love you, too," she finally whispered.
They were the words Id been praying to hear.
I dont know if Jamie told Hegbert about her feelings for me, but I somehow doubted it because his routine hadnt ged at all. It was his habit to leave the house whenever I came over after school, and this tinued. I would knock at the door and listen as Hegbert explaio Jamie that he would be leaving and would be ba a couple of hours. "Okay, Daddy," I always heard her say, then I would wait fbert to open the door. Once he let me in, he would open the hallway closet and silently pull out his coat and hat, buttoning the coat up all the way before he left the house. His coat was old-fashioned, blad long, like a trench coat without zippers, the kind that was fashionable earlier this tury. He seldom spoke directly to me, even after he learhat Jamie and Id begun to read the Bible together.
Though he still didnt like me in the house if he wasnt there, he heless allowed me to e in. I khat part of the reason had to do with the fact that he didnt want Jamie to get chilled by sitting on the porch, and the only other alternative was to wait at the house while I was there. But I think Hegbert needed some time alooo, and that was the real reason for the ge. He didnt talk to me about the rules of the house-I could see them in his eyes the first time hed said I could stay. I was allowed to stay in the living room, that was all.
Jamie was still moving around fairly well, though the winter was miserable. A cold streak blew in during the last part of January that lasted nine days, followed by three straight days of dreng rain. Jamie had no i in leaving the house in such weather, though after Hegbert had gone she and I might stand on the porch for just a couple of mio breathe the fresh sea air.
Whenever we did this, I found myself w about her.
While we read the Bible, people would knock at the door at least three times every day. People were always dropping by, some with food, others just to say hello. Even Erid Margaret came over, and though Jamie wasnt allowed to let them in, she did so anyway, a in the living room and talked a little, both of them uo meet her gaze.
They were both nervous, and it took them a couple of mio finally get to the point. Eric had e to apologize, he said, and he said that he couldnt imagine why all this had happeo her of all people. He also had something for her, a an envelope oable, his hand shaking. His voice was choked up as he spoke, the words ringing with the most heartfelt emotion Id ever heard him express.
"Youve got the biggest heart of anyone Ive ever met," he said to Jamie, his voice crag, "and even though I took it franted and wasnt always o you, I wao let you know how I feel. Ive never been more sorry about anything in my life." He paused and swiped at the er of his eye. "Youre the best person Ill probably ever know.”
As he was fighting back his tears and sniffling, Margaret had already given in to hers and sat weeping on the couch, uo speak. When Eric had finished, Jamie wiped tears from her cheeks, stood slowly, and smiled, opening her arms in what could only be called a gesture of fiveness. Erit to her willingly, finally beginning to cry openly as she gently caressed his hair, murmuring to him. The two of them held each other for a long time as Eric sobbed until he was too exhausted to cry anymore.
Then it was Margarets turn, and she and Jamie did exactly the same thing.
When Erid Margaret were ready to leave, they pulled on their jackets and looked at Jamie one more time, as if to remember her forever. I had no doubt that they wao think of her as she looked right then. In my mind she was beautiful, and I know they felt the same way.
"Hang in there," Eric said on his way out the door. "Ill be praying for you, and so will everybody else." Then he looked toward me, reached out, and patted me on the shoulder. "You too," he said, his eyes red. As I watched them leave, I knew Id never been prouder of either of them.
Later, when we opehe envelope, we learned what Eric had done. Without telling us, hed collected over $400 dollars for the orphanage.
I waited for the miracle.
It hadnt e.
In early February the pills Jamie was taking were increased to help offset the heightened pain she was feeling. The higher dosages made her dizzy, and twice she fell when walking to the bathroom, oime hitting her head against the washbasin. Afterward she insisted that the doctors cut back her medie, and with reluce they did. Though she was able to walk normally, the pain she was feeling intensified, and sometimes even raising her arm made her grimace.
Leukemia is a disease of the blood, ohat runs its course throughout a persons body. There was literally no escape from it as long as her heart kept beating.
But the disease weakehe rest of her body as well, preying on her muscles, making even simple things more difficult. In the first week of February she lost six pounds, and soon walking became difficult for her, unless it was only for a short distahat was, of course, if she could put up with the pain, whi time she couldnt. She went back to the pills again, accepting the dizziness in place of pain.
Still we read the Bible.
Whenever I visited Jamie, I would find her on the couch with the Bible already opened, and I khat eventually her father would have to carry her there if we wao tihough she never said anything to me about it, we both kly what it meant.
I was running out of time, and my heart was still tellihat there was something more I could do.
On February 14, Valentines Day, Jamie picked out a passage from thians that meant a lot to her. She told me that if shed ever had the ce, it was the passage shed wanted read at her wedding. This is what it said:Love is alatient and kind. It is never jealous. Love is never boastful or ceited. It is never rude or selfish. It does not take offense and is not resentful. Love takes no pleasure in other peoples sins, but delights iruth. It is always ready to excuse, to trust, to hope, and to endure whatever es.
Jamie was the truest essence of that very description.
Three days later, wheemperature slightly warmed, I showed her something wonderful, something I doubted shed ever seen before, something I knew she would want to see.
Eastern North Carolina is a beautiful and special part of the try, blessed with temperate weather and, for the most part, wonderful geography. Nowhere is this more evident than Bogue Banks, an island right off the coast, he place we grew up. Twenty-four miles long and nearly a mile wide, this island is a fluke of nature, running from east to west, hugging the coastline a half mile offshore. Those who live there witness spectacular sunrises and sus every day of the year, both taking place over the expanse of the mighty Atlantic O.
Jamie was bundled up heavily, standing beside me on the edge of the Iron Steamer Pier as this perfect southern evening desded. I pointed off into the distand told her to wait. I could see our breaths, two of hers to every one of mine.
I had to support Jamie as we stood there-she seemed lighter than the leaves of a tree that had fallen in autumn-but I khat it would be worth it.
In time the glowing, cratered moon began its seeming rise from the sea, casting a prism of light across the slowly darkening water, splitting itself into a thousand different parts, each more beautiful than the last. At exactly the same moment, the sun was meeting the horizon in the opposite dire, turning the sky red and e and yellow, as if heaven above had suddenly opes gates a all its beauty escape its holy fihe o turned golden silver as the shifting colors reflected off it, waters rippling and sparkling with the ging light, the vision glorious, almost like the beginning of time. The sun tio lower itself, casting its glow as far as the eye could see, before finally, slowly, vanishih the waves. The moon tis slow drift upward, shimmering as it turned a thousand different shades of yelloaler than the last, before finally being the color of the stars.
Jamie watched all this in silence, my arm tight around her, her breathing shallow and weak. As the sky was finally turning to blad the first twinkling lights began to appear in the distant southern sky, I took her in my arms. I gently kissed both her cheeks and then, finally, her lips.
"That," I said, "is exactly how I feel about you.”
A week later Jamies trips to the hospital became mular, although she insisted that she didnt want to stay there ht. "I want to die at home," was all she said. Sihe doctors couldnt do anything for her, they had no choice but to accept her wishes.
At least for the time being.
"Ive been thinking about the past few months," I said to her.
We were sitting in the living room, holding hands as we read the Bible. Her face was growing thinner, her hair beginning to lose its luster. Yet her eyes, those soft blue eyes, were as lovely as ever.
I dont think Id ever seen someone as beautiful.
"Ive been thinking about them, too," she said.
"You knew, from the first day in Miss Garbers class that I was going to do the play, didnt you. When you looked at me and smiled?”
She nodded. "Yes.”
"And when I asked you to the homeing dance, you made me promise that I wouldnt fall in love, but you khat I was going to, didnt you?”
She had a mischievous gleam in her eye. "Yes.”
"How did you know?”
She shrugged without answering, a together for a few moments, watg the rain as it blew against the windows.
"When I told you that I prayed for you," she finally said to me, "what did you think I was talking about?”
The progression of her disease tinued, speeding up as March approached. She was taking more medie for pain, and she felt too sick to her stomach to keep down much food. She was growing weak, and it looked like shed have to go to the hospital to stay, despite her wishes.
It was my mother and father who ged all that.
My father had driven home from Washington, hurriedly leaving although gress was still in session. Apparently my mother had called him and told him that if he didnt e home immediately, he might as well stay in Washington forever.
When my mother told him what was happening, my father said that Hegbert would never accept his help, that the wounds were too deep, that it was too late to do anything.
"This isnt about your family, or even about Reverend Sullivan, or anything that happened in the past," she said to him, refusing to accept his answer. "This is about our son, who happens to be in love with a little girl who needs our help.
And yoing to find a way to help her.”
I dont know what my father said to Hegbert or romises he had to make or how much the whole thiually cost. All I know is that Jamie was soon surrounded by expensive equipment, was supplied with all the medie she needed, and was watched by two full-time nurses while a doctor peeked in on her several times a day.
Jamie would be able to stay at home.
That night I cried on my fathers shoulder for the first time in my life.
"Do you have as?" I asked her. She was in her bed uhe covers, a tube in her arm feedihe medication she needed. Her face ale, her body feather light. She could barely walk, and when she did, she now had to be supported by someone else.
"We all have regrets, Landon," she said, "but Ive led a wonderful life.”
"How you say that?" I cried out, uo hide my anguish. "With all thats happening to you?”
She squeezed my hand, her grip weak, smiling tenderly at me.
"This," she admitted as she looked around her room, "could be better.”
Despite my tears I laughed, then immediately felt guilty for doing so. I was supposed to be supp her, not the other way around. Jamie went on.
"But other than that, Ive been happy, Landon. I really have. Ive had a special father who taught me about God. I look bad know that I couldnt have tried to help other people any more than I did." She paused a my eyes.
"Ive even fallen in love and had someone love me back.”
I kissed her hand when she said it, then held it against my cheek.
"Its not fair," I said.
She didnt answer.
"Are you still afraid?" I asked.
"Yes.”
"Im afraid, too," I said.
"I know. And Im sorry.”
"What I do?" I asked desperately. "I dont know what Im supposed to do anymore.”
"Will you read to me?”
I hough I didnt know whether Id be able to make it through the page without breaking down.
Please, Lord, tell me what to do!
"Mom?" I said later that night.
"Yes?”
We were sitting on the sofa in the den, the fire blazing before us. Earlier in the day Jamie had fallen asleep while I read to her, and kn藏书网owing she needed her rest, I slipped out of her room. But before I did, I kissed her gently on the cheek. It was harmless, but Hegbert had walked in as Id done so, and I had seen the flig emotions in his eyes. He looked at me, knowing that I loved his daughter but also knowing that Id broken one of the rules of his house, even an unspoken one. Had she been well, I know he would never have allowed me baside. As it was, I showed myself to the door.
I couldnt blame him, not really. I found that spending time with Jamie sapped me of the energy to feel hurt by his demeanor. If Jamie had taught me anything over these last few months, shed showhat as-not thoughts or iiohe way to judge others, and I khat Hegbert would allow me in the following day. I was thinking about all this as I sat o my mother on the sofa.
"Do you think we have a purpose in life?" I asked.
It was the first time Id asked her such a question, but these were unusual times.
"Im not sure I uand what youre asking," she said, frowning.
"I mean-how do you know what youre supposed to do?”
"Are you asking me about spending time with Jamie?”
I hough I was still fused. "Sort of. I know Im doing the right thing, but . . . somethings missing. I spend time with her aalk ahe Bible, but . . .”
I paused, and my mother finished my thought for me.
"You think you should be doing more?”
I nodded.
"I dont know that theres anything more you do, sweetheart," she said gently.
"Then why do I feel the way I do?”
She moved a little closer on the sofa, ached the flames together.
"I think its because youre frightened and you feel helpless, and even though youre trying, things tio get harder and harder-for the both of you. And the more you try, the more hopeless things seem.”
"Is there any way to stop feeling this way?”
She put her arm around me and pulled me closer. "No," she said softly, "there isnt.”
The day Jamie could out of bed. Because she was too weak now to walk even with support, we read the Bible in her room.
She fell asleep within minutes.
Another week went by and Jamie grew steadily worse, her body weakening.
Bedridden, she looked smaller, almost like a little girl again.
"Jamie," I pleaded, "what I do for you?”
Jamie, my sweet Jamie, was sleeping for hours at a time now, even as I talked to her. She didnt move at the sound of my voice; her breaths were rapid and weak.
I sat beside the bed and watched her for a long time, thinking how much I loved her. I held her hand close to my heart, feeling the boniness of her fingers.
Part of me wao cry right then, but instead I laid her hand back down and turo face the window.
Why, I wondered, had my world suddenly unraveled as it had? Why had all this happeo someone like her? I wondered if there was a greater lesson in what was happening. Was it all, as Jamie would say, simply part of the Lords plan? Did the Lord wao fall in love with her? Or was that something of my own volition? The longer Jamie slept, the more I felt her presence beside me, yet the ao these questions were no clearer than they had been before.
Outside, the last of the m rain had passed. It had been a gloomy day, but now the late afternoon sunlight was breaking through the clouds. In the cool spring air I saw the first signs of nature ing back to life. The trees outside were budding, the leaves waiting for just the right moment to uncoil and open themselves to yet another summer season.
On the nightstand by her bed I saw the colle of items that Jamie held close to her heart. There were photographs of her father, holding Jamie as a young child and standing outside of school on her first day of kindergarten; there was a colle of cards that children of the orphanage had sent. Sighing, I reached for them and opehe card on top of the stack.
Written in crayon, it said simply:Please get better soon. I miss you.
It was signed by Lydia, the girl whod fallen asleep in Jamies lap on Christmas Eve. The sed card expressed the same ses, but what really caught my eye was the picture that the child, Roger, had drawn. Hed drawn a bird, s above a rainbow.
Choking up, I closed the card. I couldo look any further, and as I put the stack back where it had been before, I noticed a neer clipping, o her water glass. I reached for the article and saw that it was about the play, published in the Sunday paper the day after wed finished. In the photograph above the text, I saw the only picture that had ever been taken of the two of us.
It seemed so long ago. I brought the artiearer to my face. As I stared, I remembered the way I felt when I had seehat night. Peering closely at her image, I searched for any sign that she suspected what would e to pass. I knew she did, but her expression that night betrayed none of it. Instead, I saw only a radiant happiness. In time I sighed a aside the clipping.
The Bible still lay open where Id left off, and although Jamie was sleeping, I felt the o read some more. Eventually I came across another passage. This is what it said:I am not anding you, but I want to test the siy of your love by paring it to the earness of others.
The words made me choke up again, and just as I was about to cry, the meaning of it suddenly became clear.
God had finally answered me, and I suddenly knew what I had to do.
I couldnt have made it to the chury faster, even if Id had a car. I took every shortcut I could, rag through peoples backyards, jumping fences, and in one case cutting through someones garage and out the side door. Everything Id learned about the town growing up came into play, and although I was never a particularly good athlete, on this day I was unstoppable, propelled by what I had to do.
I didnt care how I looked when I arrived because I suspected Hegbert wouldnt care, either. When I finally ehe church, I slowed to a walk, trying to catch my breath as I made my way to the back, toward his office.
Hegbert looked up when he saw me, and I knew why he was here. He didnt invite me in, he simply looked away, back toward the window again. At home hed been dealing with her illness by ing the house almost obsessively. Here, though, papers were scattered across the desk, and books were strewn about the room as if no one had straightened up for weeks. I khat this was the place he thought about Jamie; this was the place where Hegbert came to cry.
"Reverend?" I said softly.
He didnt answer, but I went in anyway.
"Id like to be alone," he croaked.
He looked old aen, as weary as the Israelites described in Davids Psalms. His face was drawn, and his hair had grown thinner since December. Even more than I, perhaps, he had to keep up his spirits around Jamie, and the stress of doing so was wearing him down.
I marched right up to his desk, and he gla me before turning back to the window.
"Please," he said to me. His tone was defeated, as though he didnt have the strength to front even me.
"Id like to talk to you," I said firmly. "I wouldnt ask unless it was very important.”
Hegbert sighed, and I sat in the chair I had sat in before, when Id asked him if he would let me take Jamie out for New Years Eve.
He listened as I told him what was on my mind.
When I was finished, Hegbert turo me. I dont know what he was thinking, but thankfully, he didnt say no. Instead he wiped his eyes with his fingers and turoward the window.
Even he, I think, was too shocked to speak.
Again I ran, again I didnt tire, my purpose givihe strength I o go on. When I reached Jamies house, I rushed in the door without knog, and the nurse whod been in her bedroom came out to see what had caused the racket.
Before she could speak, I did.
"Is she awake?" I asked, euphorid terrified at the same time.
"Yes," the nurse said cautiously. "When she woke up, she wondered where you were.”
I apologized for my disheveled appearand thanked her, then asked if she wouldnt mind leaving us alone. I walked into Jamies room, partially closing the door behind me. She ale, so very pale, but her smile let me know she was still fighting.
"Hello, Landon," she said, her voice faint, "thank you for ing back.”
I pulled up a chair and sat o her, taking her hand in mine. Seeing her lying there made something tighten deep in my stomach, making me almost want to cry.
"I was here earlier, but you were asleep," I said.
"I know . . . Im sorry. I just t seem to help it anymore.”
"Its okay, really.”
She lifted her hand slightly off the bed, and I kissed it, then leaned forward and kissed her cheek as well.
"Do you love me?" I asked her.
She smiled. "Yes.”
"Do you wao be happy?" As I asked her this, I felt my heart beginning to race.
"Of course I do.”
"Will you do something for me, then?”
She looked away, sadness crossing her features. "I dont know if I anymore," she said.
"But if you could, would you?”
I ot adequately describe the iy of what I was feeling at that moment.
Love, anger, sadness, hope, and fear, whirling together, sharpened by the nervousness I was feeling. Jamie looked at me curiously, and my breaths became shallower. Suddenly I khat Id never felt as strongly for another person as I did at that moment. As I returned her gaze, this simple realization made me wish for the millionth time that I could make all this go away. Had it been possible, I would have traded my life for hers. I wao tell her my thoughts, but the sound of her voice suddenly silehe emotions inside me.
"Yes," she finally said, her voice weak yet somehow still full of promise. "I would.”
Finally getting trol of myself, I kissed her again, then brought my hand to her face, gently running my fingers over her cheek. I marveled at the softness of her skin, the gentleness I saw in her eyes. Even now she erfect.
My throat began to tighten again, but as I said, I knew what I had to do. Since I had to accept that it was not within my power to cure her, what I wao do was give her something that shed always wanted.
It was what my heart had been tellio do all along.
Jamie, I uood then, had already givehe answer Id been searg for, the one my heart had o find. Shed told me the answer as wed sat outside Mr. Jenkinss office, the night wed asked him about doing the play.
I smiled softly, and she returned my affe with a slight squeeze of my hand, as if trusting me in what I was about to do. Enced, I leaned closer and took a deep breath. When I exhaled, these were the words that flowed with my breath.
"Will you marry me?”
Chapter 13
When I was seventeen, my life ged forever.
As I walk the streets of Beaufort forty years later, thinking ba that year of my life, I remember everything as clearly as if it were all still unfolding before my very eyes.
I remember Jamie sayio my breathless question and how we both began to cry together. I remember talking to both Hegbert and my parents, explaining to them what I o do. They thought I was doing it only for Jamie, and all three of them tried to talk me out of it, especially when they realized that Jamie had said yes. What they didnt uand, and I had to make clear to them, was that I o do it for me.
I was in love with her, so deeply in love that I didnt care if she was sick. I didnt care that we wouldnt have long together. None of those things mattered to me. All I cared about was doing something that my heart had told me was the right thing to do. In my mind it was the first time God had ever spoken directly to me, and I knew with certbbr>ainty that I wasnt going to disobey.
I know that some of you may wonder if I was doing it out of pity. Some of the more ical may even wonder if I did it because shed be gone soon anyway and I wasnt itting much. The ao both questions is no. I would have married Jamie Sullivan no matter what happened iure. I would have married Jamie Sullivan if the miracle I raying for had suddenly e true. I k at the moment I asked her, and I still know it today.
Jamie was more than just the woman I loved. In that year Jamie helped me bee the man I am today. With her steady hand she showed me how important it was to help others; with her patiend kindness she showed me what life is really all about. Her cheerfulness and optimism, even in times of siess, was the most amazing thing I have ever witnesse藏书网d.
We were married by Hegbert in the Baptist church, my father standing beside me as the best man. That was ahing she did. In the South its a tradition to have your father beside you, but for me its a tradition that wouldnt have had much meaning before Jamie came into my life. Jamie had brought my father aogether again; somehow shed also mao heal some of the wounds between our two families. After what hed done for me and for Jamie, I knew in the end that my father was someone I could always t on, and as the years passed our relationship grew steadily stronger until his death.
Jamie also taught me the value of fiveness and the transf power that it offers. I realized this the day that Erid Margaret had e to her house.
Jamie held nes. Jamie led her life the way the Bible taught.
Jamie was not only the angel who saved Tom Thornton, she was the angel who saved us all.
Just as shed wahe church was bursting with people. Over two hundred guests were inside, and more than that waited outside the doors as we were married on March 12, 1959. Because we were married on such short notice, there wasnt time to make many arras, and people came out of the woodwork to make the day as special as they could, simply by showing up to support us. I saw everyone I knew-Miss Garber, Eric, Margaret, Eddie, Sally, Carey, Angela, and even Lew and his grandmother-and there wasnt a dry eye in the house wherance music began. Although Jamie was weak and hadnt moved from her bed in two weeks, she insisted on walking down the aisle so that her father could give her away. "Its very important to me, Landon," shed said. "Its part of my dream, remember?" Though I assumed it would be impossible, I simply nodded. I couldnt help but wo her faith.
I knew she planned on wearing the dress shed worn in the Playhouse the night of the play. It was the only white dress that was available on such short notice, though I k would hang more loosely than it had before. While I was w how Jamie would look in the dress, my father laid his hand on my shoulder as we stood before the gregation.
"Im proud of you, son.”
I nodded. "Im proud of you, too, Dad.”
It was the first time Id ever said those words to him.
My mom was in the front row, dabbing her eyes with her handkerchief when the "Wedding March" began. The doors opened and I saw Jamie, seated in her wheelchair, a nurse by her side. With all the strength she had left, Jamie stood shakily as her father supported her. Then Jamie and Hegbert slowly made their way down the aisle, while everyone in the church sat silently in wonder. Halfway down the aisle, Jamie suddenly seemed to tire, and they stopped while she caught her breath. Her eyes closed, and for a moment? I didnt think she could go on. I know that no more than ten or twelve seds elapsed, but it seemed much longer, and finally she nodded slightly. With that, Jamie and Hegbert started moving again, and I felt my heart surge with pride.
It was, I remembered thinking, the most difficult walk anyone ever had to make.
In every way, a walk to remember.
The nurse had rolled the wheelchair up front as Jamie and her father made their way toward me. When she finally reached my side, there were gasps of joy and everyone spontaneously began to clap. The nurse rolled the wheelchair into position, and Jamie sat down again, spent. With a smile I lowered myself to my knees so that I would be level with her. My father then did the same.
Hegbert, after kissing Jamie on the cheek, retrieved his Bible in order to begin the ceremony. All business now, he seemed to have abandoned his role as Jamies father to something more distant, where he could keep his emotions in check. Yet I could see him struggling as he stood before us. He perched his glasses on his nose and opehe Bible, then looked at Jamie and me. Hegbert towered over us, and I could tell that he hadnt anticipated our being so much lower. For a momeood before us, almost fused, then surprisingly decided to kneel as well. Jamie smiled and reached for his free hand, then reached for mine, linking us together.
Hegbert began the ceremony iraditional way, thehe passage in the Bible that Jamie had once pointed out to me. Knowing how weak she was, I thought he would have us recite the vht away, but once more Hegbert surprised me.
He looked at Jamie ahen out to the gregation, then back to us again, as if searg for the right words.
He cleared his throat, and his voice rose so that everyone could hear it. This is what he said:"As a father, Im supposed to give away my daughter, but Im not sure that Im able to do this.”
The gregatio silent, and Hegbert me, willio be patient. Jamie squeezed my hand in support.
"I ive Jamie away than I give away my h藏书网eart. But what I do is to let another share in the joy that she has always given me. May Gods blessings be with you both.”
It was then that he set aside the Bible. He reached out, his hand to mine, and I took it, pleting the circle.
With that he led us through our vows. My father handed me the ring my mother had helped me pick out, and Jamie gave me one as well. We slipped them on our fingers. Hegbert watched us as we did so, and when we were finally ready, he pronounced us husband and wife. I kissed Jamie softly as my man to cry, then held Jamies hand in mine. In front of God and everyone else, Id promised my love aion, in siess and ih, and Id never felt so good about anything.
It was, I remember, the most wonderful moment of my life.
It is now forty years later, and I still remember everything from that day.
I may be older and wiser, I may have lived another life sihen, but I know that when my time eventually es, the memories of that day will be the final images that float through my mind. I still love her, you see, and Ive never removed my ring. In all these years Ive never felt the desire to do so.
I breathe deeply, taking in the fresh spring air. Though Beaufort has ged and I have ged, the air itself has not. Its still the air of my childhood, the air of my seveh year, and when I finally exhale, Im fifty-seven once more. But this is okay. I smile slightly, looking toward the sky, knowing theres ohing I still havent told you: I now believe, by the way, that miracles happen.天涯在线书库《www.tianyabook.com》