"You want a beer?" Diana asked. I think she was trying to be funny, but no one laughed.
Amelia put her hand to her hair, tugging gently 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 honest I thought would turn
out better, but I guess that wasn't in her plans."Well, you did really well this week at rehearsals," she said to me. "I know you've got a lot of lines to learn, but I'm sure you're going to get them all real soon. And I just wanted to thank you for volunteering like you did. You're a real gentleman.""Thanks," I said, a little knot forming in my stomach. I tried to be cool, but all my friends were looking right at me, suddenly wondering if I'd been telling them the truth about Miss Chole forcing it on me and everything. I hoped they missedThe first thing we did was talk to Miss Chloe about our plans for the orphans, and she thought it was a marvelous idea. That was her favorite word, by the way-marvelous-after she'd greeted youwith "Hellooooo." On Monday, when she realized that I knew all my lines, she said, "Marvelous!" and for the next two hours whenever I'd finish up a scene, she'd say it again. By the end of therehearsal, I'd heard it about four zillion times.But Miss Chole actually went our idea one better. 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 didn't have a choice, and she looked around the class, waiting for someone to nod so she could make it official. No onemoved a muscle, except for Eddie. Somehow he'd inhaled a bug up his nose at that exact moment, and he sneezed violently. The bug flew out
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 phone. It was an important call and he couldn't meet with us rightaway, so we made ourselves comfortable. We were waiting on a bench in the hallway outside his door, when Amelia turned to me. Her book was in her lap. I guess she wanted it for support, butthen again, maybe it was just her habit."You did really well today," she said. "With your lines, I mean.""Thanks," I said, feeling proud and dejected at exactly the sametime. "I still haven't learned my beats, though," I offered. Therewas no way we could practice those on the porch, and I hoped shewasn't going to suggest it."You will. They're easy once you know you all the words.""I hope so."Amelia smiled, and after a moment she changed the subject, sort of throwing me off track. "Do you ever think about the future, La
"We'll have a small tree and a few gifts-something that all of themcan share. "You're welcome to visit Christmas Eve. . . ."After we said our good-byes, Amelia and I walked in silencewithout saying anything. I could tell she was sad. The more I hungaround Amelia, the more I realized she had lots of differentemotions-she wasn't always cheerful and happy. Believe it or not,that was the first time I recognized that in some ways she wasjust like the rest of us."I'm sorry it didn't work out," I said softly."I am, too."She had that faraway look in her eyes again, and it was a momentbefore she went on."I just wanted to do something different for them this year.Something special that they would remember forever. I thoughtfor sure this was it. . . ." She sighed. "The Lord seems to have aplan that I just don't know about yet."She was quiet
By early September, just over two weeks into rehearsals, the sky was winter dark before Miss Chole would let us leave, and Amelia asked me if I wouldn't mind walking her home. I don't know whyshe wanted me to. Beaufort wasn't exactly a hotbed of criminal activity back then. The only murder I'd ever heard about had occurred six years earlier when a guy was stabbed outside of Maurice's Tavern, which was a hangout for people like Charles, by theway. 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 lunatic wandering the streets, preying oninnocent victims. Doors were locked, guns were loaded, men sat by the front windows, looking for anyone out of the ordinary who might be creeping down the street. But the whole thing was overbefore the night was through when the guy walked into the police station to give himself up, explaining that it was a bar fi
The next night, as I was walking her home, she asked me about my father."He's all right, I reckon," I said. "But he's 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 I'd ever considered that Jamie and I might have something in common. I let that sink in for a while."It must be hard for you," I said sincerely. "Even though my father's a stranger to me, at least he's still around."She looked up at me as we walked, then faced forward again. She tugged gently at her hair again. I was beginning to notice that she did this whenever she was nervous or wasn't sure what to say."It is, sometimes. Don't get 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 beenable to talk about things in a way that my fat
By then, Amelia's story had left me completely, and I could practically hear my friends laughing about me, all the way from Cecil's Diner.See what happens when you're a nice guy?By the next morning everyone at school knew I was walking Amelia 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 awayfrom it all.That night, the rehearsal was at the Playhouse. It was the last onebefore the show opened, and we had a lot to do. Right after school, the boys in drama class had to load all the props in the classroom into the rented truck to take them to the Playhouse.The only problem was that Eddie and I were the only two boys, and he's not exactly the most coordinated individual in history. We'd be walking through a doorway, carrying one of the heavieritems, and his Hooville body would work agai
Part of me wanted to scream, to see how far I could reach before the sun rises again. Gazing out the bedroom window, I wondered whether she was asleep or not. Obviously, I am talking about that minuscule square apartment, second floor. Was I innocent? "yes?", if I said this I would be lying to myself. I wasn't innocent entirely, but let's not judge me by the post-haste actions, for neglecting the journey. I still pass by the streets, apartments, restaurants, and parks, all a part of this story. Somehow, my story is their story too, 'cause it was something that all the people around me knew. And, while these spots are no longer same, can still stop me dead in my tracks. I think to myself, "what happened here?" totally not practical, somewhat self-centered. I can't acknowledge that place, it moved on.Without me.When I was 17, my life changed forever. I know there are people who wonder about
In 1974, Beaufort, one of the oldest town in North Carolina, was a place like many other small southern towns. It was a kind of place where people wave from their cars whenever they see someone on the street whether they know him or not. It was a kind of place where humidity rises so high that walking out to get a mail made a person feel as if he needed a shower, and kids walked around barefoot from April through October beneath oak trees draped in Spanish moss, and the air smelled of pine, salt, and sea, a scent unique to the Carolinas. Only three channels came in on the television, though television was never important to those of us who grew up there. Instead our lives were centered around the churches, of which there were eighteen within the town limits alone. They went with the names like Fellowship Hall, Christian church, and the church of forgiven people, and ofcourse, there were Baptist churches. When I was growing up, it was far and away the most popular denomination
By then, Amelia's story had left me completely, and I could practically hear my friends laughing about me, all the way from Cecil's Diner.See what happens when you're a nice guy?By the next morning everyone at school knew I was walking Amelia 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 awayfrom it all.That night, the rehearsal was at the Playhouse. It was the last onebefore the show opened, and we had a lot to do. Right after school, the boys in drama class had to load all the props in the classroom into the rented truck to take them to the Playhouse.The only problem was that Eddie and I were the only two boys, and he's not exactly the most coordinated individual in history. We'd be walking through a doorway, carrying one of the heavieritems, and his Hooville body would work agai
The next night, as I was walking her home, she asked me about my father."He's all right, I reckon," I said. "But he's 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 I'd ever considered that Jamie and I might have something in common. I let that sink in for a while."It must be hard for you," I said sincerely. "Even though my father's a stranger to me, at least he's still around."She looked up at me as we walked, then faced forward again. She tugged gently at her hair again. I was beginning to notice that she did this whenever she was nervous or wasn't sure what to say."It is, sometimes. Don't get 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 beenable to talk about things in a way that my fat
By early September, just over two weeks into rehearsals, the sky was winter dark before Miss Chole would let us leave, and Amelia asked me if I wouldn't mind walking her home. I don't know whyshe wanted me to. Beaufort wasn't exactly a hotbed of criminal activity back then. The only murder I'd ever heard about had occurred six years earlier when a guy was stabbed outside of Maurice's Tavern, which was a hangout for people like Charles, by theway. 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 lunatic wandering the streets, preying oninnocent victims. Doors were locked, guns were loaded, men sat by the front windows, looking for anyone out of the ordinary who might be creeping down the street. But the whole thing was overbefore the night was through when the guy walked into the police station to give himself up, explaining that it was a bar fi
"We'll have a small tree and a few gifts-something that all of themcan share. "You're welcome to visit Christmas Eve. . . ."After we said our good-byes, Amelia and I walked in silencewithout saying anything. I could tell she was sad. The more I hungaround Amelia, the more I realized she had lots of differentemotions-she wasn't always cheerful and happy. Believe it or not,that was the first time I recognized that in some ways she wasjust like the rest of us."I'm sorry it didn't work out," I said softly."I am, too."She had that faraway look in her eyes again, and it was a momentbefore she went on."I just wanted to do something different for them this year.Something special that they would remember forever. I thoughtfor sure this was it. . . ." She sighed. "The Lord seems to have aplan that I just don't know about yet."She was quiet
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 phone. It was an important call and he couldn't meet with us rightaway, so we made ourselves comfortable. We were waiting on a bench in the hallway outside his door, when Amelia turned to me. Her book was in her lap. I guess she wanted it for support, butthen again, maybe it was just her habit."You did really well today," she said. "With your lines, I mean.""Thanks," I said, feeling proud and dejected at exactly the sametime. "I still haven't learned my beats, though," I offered. Therewas no way we could practice those on the porch, and I hoped shewasn't going to suggest it."You will. They're easy once you know you all the words.""I hope so."Amelia smiled, and after a moment she changed the subject, sort of throwing me off track. "Do you ever think about the future, La
The first thing we did was talk to Miss Chloe about our plans for the orphans, and she thought it was a marvelous idea. That was her favorite word, by the way-marvelous-after she'd greeted youwith "Hellooooo." On Monday, when she realized that I knew all my lines, she said, "Marvelous!" and for the next two hours whenever I'd finish up a scene, she'd say it again. By the end of therehearsal, I'd heard it about four zillion times.But Miss Chole actually went our idea one better. 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 didn't have a choice, and she looked around the class, waiting for someone to nod so she could make it official. No onemoved a muscle, except for Eddie. Somehow he'd inhaled a bug up his nose at that exact moment, and he sneezed violently. The bug flew out
"You want a beer?" Diana asked. I think she was trying to be funny, but no one laughed.Amelia put her hand to her hair, tugging gently 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 honest I thought would turnout better, but I guess that wasn't in her plans."Well, you did really well this week at rehearsals," she said to me."I know you've got a lot of lines to learn, but I'm sure you're going to get them all real soon. And I just wanted to thank you for volunteering like you did. You're a real gentleman.""Thanks," I said, a little knot forming in my stomach. I tried to be cool, but all my friends were looking right at me, suddenly wondering if I'd been telling them the truth about Miss Chole forcing it on me and everything. I hoped they missed
--1 month later-- The rehearsals began at three o'clock, and Amelia knew all her lines the first day there, which wasn't really surprising. What was surprising was that she knew all my lines, too, as well as everyoneelse's. We'd be going over a scene, she'd be doing it without the script, and I'd be looking down at a stack of pages, trying to figure out what my next line should be, and whenever I looked up shehad this real shiny look about her, as if waiting for a burning bush or something. The only lines I knew were the mute bum's, at least on that first day, and all of a sudden I was actually envious ofEddie, at least in that regard. This was going to be a lot of work, not exactly what I'd expected when I'd signed up for the class.My noble feelings about doing the play had worn off by the second day of rehearsals. Even though I knew I was doing the "right thing," my friends didn't understand it at all, and they'd been riding
Amelia turned away, but I could see the tears in her eyes. It was the first time I'd ever seen her cry. I think part of me wanted to cry, too."I am not asking you to do it for me," she said softly,"I am really not, if you say no, I'll not say anything bad about you. I promise. but if you'd like to do something kind for a wonderful man who means so much to me...will you just think about it?"Her eyes looked like those of a cocker spanial that had just messed on the rug. I looked down at my feet."I don't have to think about it." I finally said it,"I'll do it!"I really didn't have a choice, did I?The old Mason wrote The Winter Angel one day and decided to put that on play instead. After I read the script, it wasn't that bad actually. It's basically the story of a man who had lost his wife a few years back. This guy, Harry Preston, used to be real religious, but he had crises of faith after his wife died during childbirth. He's raising this little girl all