Circle 250: Chapter 7: Charlotte: A long and hard look back.

Circle 250: Chapter 7: Charlotte: A long and hard look back.

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That year at school flew by at light speed. It was May again before I knew it. It’s no wonder time flew by so quickly with all the dating I did. With all the courting and dating I took part in, I barely had time for my school work. Fortunately, I was a gifted student and my marks didn’t suffer terribly. I think my father liked my dating adventures the most. My mother was mostly ambivalent although occasionally concerned by the large number of boys I was seeing. Every month or so, I would bring my latest interest from the football team by, to meet my family. It was a test of sorts. I liked to see how my date handled an introduction to my family. If he was polite and courteous, he got all sorts of points.

My father felt as though he was almost a pseudo-coach of the football team. He discussed strategies at length with them. They all listened to him intently as though he was some sort of seer when it came to football. Really, his athletic expertise were in track and field, I don’t see how this qualified him to give football advice, save the fact that he watched football all the time. My dates liked him just the same. I think that they were relieved to have him do all the talking. It took the onus of coming up with interesting conversation off them.

The month of May, brought with it as it always did, flowering plants, some showers, lots of sunshine and preparation for the senior prom. This past year, I had become a little more involved in school life. I was even on the prom committee for this year, even though I was only in grade eleven. I already had a date. He was Bram, the new captain of the football team. What would you expect? I would date only the best. I often discussed ideas about the prom with Jesse. He was artistically inclined and had many creative ideas. I commissioned him to design and paint the programme for the evening. It turned out to be incredible. It was getting late into May and the pairing of dates was almost complete. It dawned on me that Jesse hadn’t mentioned who he planned on attending the prom with. I took it upon myself to find out.

When I questioned him about it, he seemed a little withdrawn. He wouldn’t give me a straight answer. Finally I demanded to know,

“Who are you going to the prom with?” There that was plain and simple enough. His eyes wouldn’t meet mine and his head swiveled slightly to avoid any chance of direct eye contact. Finally he gathered courage and said,

“Well, … really … I wasn’t planning on coming”. I was astonished.

“What? After all the work we’ve put in together?” Further, it was his senior year. I would have another prom yet, but this was Jesse’s first and last chance. I wouldn’t hear of it. I continued insistently,

“The prom with one of the most fun things that you will do in high school. You wouldn’t want to miss out on that would you?” I really didn’t know what a prom was like. Due to my inebriation at the time, I had attended last year’s prom in body only with only vague clouded memories as a souvenir. Still, I was on the committee this year, and I was sure that it was going to be a blast. Jesse stammered off a response. It was amazing how verbose he could be while talking about just about anything, but then was reduced to a stammering idiot when you asked him a question about himself.

“Well … uh … I’m not sure, I may have other plans with …” “Other plans?” I thought to myself. Nonsense, no one had plans on prom night. I cut him off immediately and resumed my pestering,

“Look, there is nothing to worry about. Just take a look around the caf and tell me who you would most like to spend prom night with and I will tell you if they are taken. It’s just that simple.” He looked past my left ear, and then his eyes darted immediately past mine and looked over my right ear, seemingly at the people behind me. It took him a moment before he produced the first name. As soon as we did, we launched into a verbal tennis match. He shot a name of a girl across the net and I shot the name of her date back at him. He started the match,

“Well … how about Jennifer?”

“She’s with Bill.”

“Uh, how about Shannon?”

“She’s with John or Morton. She hasn’t decided yet.” As this continued, we grew tired of adding extra words to our sentences, just the names would do.

“Karen?”

“Ken.”

“Mary?”

“Max.”

“Lucy?”

“Lou.”

“Donna?”

“Done.” We paused for a moment, both happy that I finally hadn’t responded with a name of a boy she was going with. Donna Teews, which was pronounced ‘tea-ews’, was a very sweet girl, and fairly cute to boot. I continued,

“She’s a great girl. I’ll let her know that you are interested.” He responded, trying to decline my offer,

“That’s very nice of you but, I would rather …” I cut him off again. Clearly he was underestimating my abilities at seeding the grapevine with carefully placed tid bits of gossip suggesting that he was available and willing to take her to the prom. I reassured him,

“Don’t worry I can be very subtle.” He didn’t seem very comforted at all. I figured he was just shy. The bell had sounded and it was time for class. I got up and left before he had time to try and dissuade me further. That afternoon, I talked casually to Donna’s friends and let it slip that Jesse still had not been claimed and had mentioned that he might be interested in taking her. I learned that Jesse had competition from Donald and that he would have to move quickly, lest he miss out on her too. I had to nag him incessantly before he would finally ask her out. When he did, I was proud knowing that through my interventions, he now had a date for the prom.

When prom night finally arrived, the many months of preparations came to fruition. The theme of the night was ‘Over the Rainbow’ which was based on ‘The Wizard of Oz’. It was decided, by the mostly female prom committee that the theme would suit our town perfectly. We wanted the boys to come in tuxedos and all the girls would dress like ‘Dorothy’. Are formal dresses all looked much like ‘Dorothy’s’ dress anyways. The theme just matched our needs perfectly. The walls were covered in murals which depicted the various scenes and characters from the movie. We all had our pictures taken with our dates with the backdrop of ‘the yellow brick road’ which had been painted beautifully by Jesse and some friends he had recruited to help him. I took my picture with Bram. I still have it to this day, although I hid it from my husband because it used to make him feel a little uneasy. Jesse showed up about five minutes later. He didn’t look like that clumsy boy who fell into the stream with his dog at our first meeting anymore, but he looked much more mature. There is just something about a tuxedo which adds dignity and maturity to a man.

That evening couldn’t have been more perfect. It was well planned and we followed the nicely printed programme to the letter. We danced and ate and reminisced about the year that had passed. Jesse seemed like he was having a good time. He didn’t dance that much, but talked, as he so loved to, with many people, his date standing content next to him. I was glad he was enjoying himself, he deserved it. I looked around and saw those many people dancing and sharing stories and I realized that a good deal of this wondrous night was due to my efforts. I was proud to have been able to make such a contribution. The prom ended and I found myself at Serenity pond once more only, this time, I was in complete control. Bram knew my limits as to how far he could expect to get. He wasn’t happy about it, but just the same we spent a solid half hour under the, again, moonlit pond kissing and enjoying each other’s company. The moon didn’t shine blindingly in my eyes as it had, due to my hang over, last year, but instead, illuminated the surroundings clearly. The cool light revealed the features of the landscape almost as clearly as in daylight. I remember almost every detail of that night, even now years later. It was a night where I was in control and happily so. It is still one of my favourite nights ever.

* * *

The school year came to a close at the end of June. With the final school bell of the year, thousands of kids poured out on to the sidewalk towards the buses, going home to freedom. The look of glee on their faces as they left was almost like the look of victory a platoon of soldiers would have after winning a decisive battle. In a sense, each completed school year marked the winning of a battle; the battle of growing up. It was a fierce battle against the evil forces of self doubt, peer pressure and unsurity, but if one were valiant, hopefully on the other side, one would emerge a fulfilled person. Today the soldiers of this war were happy to be leaving one of the most renowned battle fields, our high school, intact and having successfully completed their mission. School was out for the summer and we wouldn’t have to look at the school building for about another two months. Most of us darted for the buses without looking back, lest we turn into pillars of salt. I myself was in a huge rush to get home and begin my summer. I charged like a chariot towards the buses but something managed to slow my approach.

I noticed Jesse looking long and hard at the school building. I diverted my course and walked over to him.

“What’s up?” I asked very casually.

“Oh not much, it’s just … this is the last time I will see this building.” Jesse had been accepted to the University of Egret. I didn’t understand what he was so upset about. Egret city was only about a day’s drive away. If he wanted to see our sorry old school building it wouldn’t be that big a deal. Besides, I was sure he would be town for the holidays.

“Oh, come on, you’ll see it again, on the holidays, in the summer …” He cut my sentence short, realizing I didn’t understand what he meant.

“Yes, I know all that, but I won’t be a student here anymore. It will be different.” “What a sentimental fellow” I though to myself. He had a penchant for overdramatizing situations. I couldn’t tell if he was sincere but it didn’t make sense for him not to be. Standing in front of a building looking thoughtful isn’t a call for attention. I often had trouble figuring him out when he got ‘deep’ on me. As if he picked up on my confusion he started to explain himself.

“I want to hold on to this moment. I know that later in life I will wonder how it felt to be in high school. I am trying to remember every detail and the way it feels today. In a few years this school building will have a different feeling for me. I want to remember what it feels like today.” He often went on like this at end. It was up to me to keep him on track.

“Well if you keep feeling the school much longer, you will also be able to remember what it felt like to walk home on your last day of school.” The bus engine revved sounding a warning of its imminent departure. He snapped out of his daze, although he seemed offended by the interruption. I knew that he was sincere now because he was so upset at having been prevented from taking his last sentimental glimpses of the school. I didn’t guilty though. I certainly didn’t want to have to walk home because Jesse was caught up feeling the last moments of high school. Besides, he watched the school fade into the distance from the bus. I assumed that this would be equally moving to him as sitting there watching the unmoving school building.

Now seated comfortably on the bus and heading home I had some time to consider exactly what Jesse was doing. I figured he was just a little nervous about going to university. I could understand that. I was sure I would be nervous as well when my turn came next year. I questioned him trying to confirm my hypothesis,

“Are you excited for about going to university next year?” I didn’t ask him if he was nervous about university because he would have simply denied it.

“Yah, I guess it will be pretty interesting.” This was a tough call, he didn’t sound to nervous to me though. I was frustrated and tired after a long day and year of school so I just gave in and asked him straight out.

“So what’s with this school stuff. Are you really going to miss it that much?” He paused for a long time and looked off into space. He did this whenever he was trying to explain something complex. After some time of introspection he started,

“Think of this bus ride” he often used analogies to get his ideas across. I nodded waiting for him to resume.

“Our bus driver finds the route home by looking at landmarks on the landscape.” Serenity pond was coming up on the right. “Like when we see Serenity pond, we know that we should take a right and head towards the center of town.” What this had to do with looking at a school building, I had no idea. Not giving me time to answer that mental question he developed his analogy.

“Well, if one were to look just at the road ahead, we would miss all of the cues to turn and just keep driving in a straight line until the end of the road.”

“So?!” I said impatiently annoyed with this long analogy.

“So,” he continued patiently, “if you don’t look at the bigger picture and realize where you are in it at the given moment, you won’t know where to go.” I had no idea what he was talking about.

“You know how you were talking about driving on roads?” I asked.

“Yes” he answered softly.

“Well you lost me several miles back there” I said, motioning with my thumb to the road behind us. He was visibly annoyed at not being able to communicate his thought. He tried one last time,

“Well I was just thinking of who I was when I came into that building in grade nine and who I am now walking out of it for the last time. When I realized all of the changes I had gone through in just those four years, I was thinking of who I would like to be in another four.” I finally clued into what he was trying to express. My look of comprehension was accompanied by a look of relief in Jesse. He was pleased that he had communicated his message.

I could relate to what he was saying. Just a year ago, I was so naive and inexperienced. That year I felt much more independent and in control. As for who I would want to be in another four years or so, I wasn’t sure. I still wasn’t sure who I was right then. I was sure that I admired Jesse’s views on life. He wasn’t just content to live day to day, but it was like he was on a mission. He was looking into the future and planning to better himself, not just hoping that it would happen.

Jesse had become more and more persistent in his efforts to explain himself to me. For the first few months we ate lunch together, he would talk about things that were happening around school, or some other topical thing, but he never talked about anything as complex as he had just attempted. He started trying around January but he had a lot of trouble explaining himself. He typically would try but when I gave him a puzzled look, he would just excuse him self with an ‘oh never mind’ or ‘forget it.’ Actually, come to think of it, the last day of school was the first day that he ever communicated something philosophical which I understood. My mind switched routes and started to consider what other people would think of Jesse.

I imagined Jesse talking to a girl about philosophy on a first date. It was no wonder my friend didn’t have a girlfriend. That reminded me,

“Hey Jesse, how are you and Donna getting along?” I asked hoping to hear that my set up had gone well.

“She is a very sweet girl.” He stopped there as if that was a sufficient answer. He had just barraged me with philosophy, so I knew he could provide me with a more detail. A simple,

“And?! …” would suffice to let him know I wanted to hear more. Complying, he added to his answer,

“And I know that her and Donald will be happy together.” He didn’t look to upset but I wanted to know what happened anyways.

“They’re together?” I was more surprised that the gossip hadn’t reached me yet. I thought that maybe I was out of the loop. He provided some relief by saying,

“Yah, they are official as of a few days ago”. “Oh good” I thought to myself, gossip usually took about four or five days to reach me, so it wasn’t because I was out of the loop. Suddenly I realized that I was so wrapped up in my own nonsense that I forgot to show compassion for Jesse. Trying to make it up to him I said caringly,

“I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” He answered quickly,

“Yah, I’m fine … She really is a very nice girl. We still talk but she was just meant to be with Donald.” I didn’t believe a word he was saying. He had to be bitter, I just knew it. I didn’t want to press the issue so I just let him be. The rest of the trip was quiet. I was sure that he was wallowing silently, but his face just never showed it.

I wondered what had done him in with Donna. Donald wasn’t all that special. He was nice enough but he wasn’t as interesting as Jesse. I realized however, that it was I that found Jesse interesting, if not a little hard to follow from time to time. It had only been after months of association with him that I had come to understand some of what he was saying. I imagined that a great many girls must have found him boring. I set my mind to it, that my mission that summer was to help my friend get a girlfriend. Sure he was leaving in two months, but at that point in my life, two months was still a sizable relationship. I have to admit that I enjoyed setting people up, and I didn’t get to do it as often and I would have liked to. It was kind of my contribution as a community service.

Contents: http://www.martincwiner.com/circle-250-a-novel/

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