The Thetas
Page 2
“Oh it definitely will.” Marcia says.
You are so going to enjoy the Theta House.” Abigail replies. “The foliage around the house is so beautiful this time of year. You’ve really got to see it.”
“Maybe I’ll take my car up.” I reply. “Are there directions in the invitation?”
Marcia and Abigail get on the elevator. “No, we’ll call in a few days to let you know when we’ll pick you up and take you to the house.”
“Besides we want to give you some time to get yourself ready. You really need to clean up those tatty nails.”
Not even out of the penthouse and the cat claws come out. Yeah, I’m gonna have some fun this summer.
Chapter 4
I keep the smile pasted on my face as the private penthouse elevator closes on Marcia and Abigail. When I hear the car going down, it twists into a grimace. I don’t like being set up.
I storm back into the living room where a nosy Aunt Margaret is eager to find out what we talked about. “So when are you headed up to the Theta House?
“Like a crappy job interview, they say they’ll call me.” I sigh. “She told me to take care of my “tatty nails” before I came up to the house.”
“You could use a manicure.” Aunt Margaret retorts looking down at my hands.
“I think my hands are fine.”
“The Thetas know polish.” Aunt Margaret replies. “Oh, they’re going to make a fine young woman out of you in a few weeks.”
I take offense to that statement. “What’s wrong with who I am today?”
My aunt is eager to answer that question. “Besides the dowdy way you dress, there are your manners. Always so casual with everyone.”
“I’m comfortable. And I want people to be comfortable with me. That’s why I dress down.”
“A little refinement in formal etiquette will give you some presence and make people take you more seriously.”
“I don’t want people seeing my money. I want them to see me.”
“And they will see you. In a way that leaves a lasting impression on them. Now do you have any dress clothes in that closet of yours? Or is it all T–shirts and jeans in there?”
Very funny Auntie. “I’ve got a closet full of suits and gowns from all the company events I go to.”
My Aunt Margaret rolls her eyes. “Last year’s clothes. No, those garments won’t do for pledging the Thetas.” Aunt Margaret insists. “We’re going to have to go shopping.”
Nuts. A day with one of the women in the world I just can’t stand. She’s gonna dress me up like MochaTan Malibu Barbie. I knew I should have taken another semester of courses this summer.
Aunt Margaret makes her plans indifferent to the frown on my face. “We’ll make a day of it. Manicures, pedicures, and hair. Oh, you’re going to make a smashing impression when they take you up to the Theta House.”
“I’ll meet you downstairs tomorrow morning eight sharp to take you to the hairdresser and the manicurist. From there we’re going shopping on Fifth Avenue.”
An excited Aunt Margaret rushes out of the living room into the foyer to get on the elevator. My father notices the forlorn look on my face. “Why so sad Pumpkin?”
“Oh, I don’t know, I’m not too happy about being ambushed by my aunt, conned into spending my summer doing something I hate with a bunch of chicks I don’t know anything about.” I pout.
“I think this will be good for you.” Daddy replies. “You rarely ever get to socialize with girls your own age.”
“Et tu Father?” I retort.
“You’re always complaining about not being able to associate with other Black girls your own age. Well here’s an opportunity to get to know some.”
“But pledging a sorority goes against everything I believe in. I don’t feel it’s right for a bunch of girls to form a club where they exclude and oppress other women. In a racist sexist world like we live in, I feel all Black women should work together instead of dividing ourselves based on class.”
Daddy smiles at me. “You sound just like the books you read in your Women’s Studies classes.”
“Well, I’ve learned a lot about how Black women have been mistreated in society these last two years.”
“Reading about the history of Black women is one thing, but experiencing things can give you perspective. You can use pledging to get a better understanding of how the Theta women think and why they do what they do.”
“I don’t think I want to understand Sorority life. Partying, drinking–”
“Sometimes we do the things we don’t like to in order to do the things we want to.”Daddy says.
“I thought I had enough money to keep from running into situations like this.”
“I think if your mother were alive, she’d be happy to see that you’d put your feelings aside to do what’s right for someone else. It shows a lot of character to pledge in spite of your reservations.”
“Well, I didn’t want to disappoint you or Mom. If I declined, it’d be like dishonoring her memory.”
“I think your mother would be just as proud of you as I am if she were here.” Daddy comforts.
I smile after he says that. I’ve always wanted to do something to make my mother proud of me. “Okay I’ll try to keep an open mind about pledging.”
“It’s all I’m asking that you do.”
I grab my backpack off the floor. “I’ll be in my room. I’m gonna do some research.”
Chapter 5
I shuffle down the hall into my room, drop my bag, kick off my shoes, and flop into the leather chair behind my desk. Staring into my reflection in my sleeping computer monitor I ask myself: Col, what have you gotten yourself into?
I’d love to be friends with some other Black girls. I always felt so alone in prep school being the only Black girl in the class and in some cases the only Black girl in the entire school. And NYU has been nothing but a sea of White and Asian faces in most of my classes except the African–American history ones.
But pledging a sorority isn’t really my thing. Do I really want to be friends with girls like Marcia and Abigail? They just don’t seem like my type. It seems like we don’t have much in common except money. Talking to them it feels like we come from two different worlds. I don’t know if I’m going to fit in with them.
Okay, time to stop moping and find out what the World Wide Web can tell me about these mysterious Thetas. I hit a button on the keyboard and as the sleeping computer wakes up, I open up the envelope and pull out the invitation looking for information. What’s written on the pebbled cotton paper just tells me that I’ve been sponsored to join The Thetas and if I decide to pledge them for the next eight weeks I’ll be joining an exclusive network of Black women who will support me for a lifetime. Verbatim what Abigail and Marcia said during their visit a few minutes ago. Maybe a Google search will provide me with a little more detailed information.
I drop the invitation on the desk and grab the mouse off the desk roll the pointer over the Internet Explorer icon and click it. After Google loads up, I type in Theta sorority and hit enter. I’m disappointed when no search results come up on the screen.
Okay, that was a little general I type in that name they call themselves The Thetas.
Nothing.
Well, using the in front of a word can screw up a Google search so I type in just Thetas this time.
Still nothing.
For an organization dedicated to the improvement of educated professional Black women, I find it odd they don’t have an official site. Not even a link mentioning them or their members on another website. I’d think such high–class high–powered professional women would love to promote their organization or themselves. Then again, would any of these women even know anything about computer science? No, MochaTan Malibu Barbies don’t like computers because math class is tough.
I’m not liking this. Not liking it at all. I’m going to be spending eight weeks with a bunch of strange girls and I can’t find a single bit o
f information on who they are or what they do anywhere. Maybe Aunt Margaret can tell me something about the Theta information blackout.
Chapter 6
Aunt Margaret and I make our way onto the private elevator with our arms full of shopping bags. After a whirlwind day of shopping I’m exhausted. After we both got manicures, pedicures, and got our hair done, we hit Fifth Avenue and practically bought me an entire new summer wardrobe. Gucci, Chanel, La Perla, Prada, Brooks Brothers, and some Italian names I can’t even pronounce.
The elevator opens in the penthouse and I rush through the foyer, drop my bags, and fall into the sofa. Aunt Margaret eases the rest of my bags down, puts her hands her hips and glares at me. I don’t care. I’m tired.
“Colleen. That is not how a Theta woman sits.” Aunt Margaret snarls.
I’m not a Theta woman yet. I’m still good old Colleen. And I’d like to enjoy the last few hours I get to be myself. “I’m exhausted.” I sigh.
“Being tired is no excuse for not having manners. You’re going to be a Theta and Theta Women do not flop into sofas. What if your father was entertaining a guest here?”
“They’d see all the shopping bags and understand I’ve been shopping for about eight hours.”
“They’d be embarrassed by your childish behavior. Now you sit up straight.”
I slink up off the sofa and sit up straight. Aunt Margaret’s stern grimace changes into a haughty expression as she eases into the chair adjacent from the sofa. I look down at the twenty or so shopping bags surrounding us and get a case of buyer’s remorse. I haven’t spent so much money on clothes in my entire life. There must be at least four hundred thousand dollars worth of clothes in all these bags.
“Why do I need so many clothes?”I ask.”
“When you pledge you’re going to be attending a lot of social events. You’re going to have to look your best if you’re going to leave a strong first impression on people.”
What would leave a powerful impression on me is finding out how much information she’ll divulge about her secret sorority. “I went to do some research on The Thetas online and I couldn’t find anything.”
Aunt Margaret smiles at me. “Of course there isn’t any information on The Thetas there. We don’t want it there.”
My eyes grow wide. “Why not?”
“The Thetas are an exclusive organization. The less people who know about us the better it is for everyone.”
“Isn’t that kind of elitist?”
“It’s what has to be done dear.” Aunt Margaret says. “We don’t want lower class riff–raff trying to pledge our house. All it takes is one nigger to spoil the decades of hard work of all the sisters.”
The way she says nigger sends a chill down my spine. She sounds just like the racists I used to watch in the old Eyes on the Prize documentary on PBS a few years ago. I didn’t think it was possible for Black people to hate other Black people like that.
“So all the communications regarding The Thetas are secret?”
“If the sisters want to get in touch with you they’ll let you know.”
My train of thought is interrupted by the phone. I reach over to pick it up. “Anderson residence.” I greet.
“May I speak to Colleen Anderson?” The perky voiced woman asks.
“Speaking.”
“Colleen, this is Marcia Duvalier from The Thetas.” Marcia says. “We’re ready to have you pledge us. Are you ready?”
I thought I had a few days. But the sooner we get started, the sooner it’ll be over. “Yes.” I tell her.
“Great. Meet us downstairs in front of your building at 9:45 tomorrow morning.”
“Should I bring–”
The answer to my almost asked question is a dial tone. I grimace as let Aunt Margaret know who I was talking to. “That was Marcia. She says they’re ready for me to pledge.”
Aunt Margaret’s eyes light up on hearing the news. “Wonderful! Let’s get you packed!”
Aunt Margaret jumps out of her chair and grabs most of the shopping bags. I slide off the sofa with the rest of the shopping bags and shuffle behind her into my bedroom.
Chapter 7
9:36 A.M.
I check my Rolex watch again as I anxiously wait under the awning outside of my building next to a series of stacked Louis Vuitton suitcases. It’s hard to believe Aunt Margaret and I packed an entire wardrobe of brand–new clothes in there last night.
My stomach is so full of butterflies I couldn’t even eat breakfast. All I could think about is I’m going who knows where with girls I only met a day ago to pledge an organization I know absolutely nothing about. Aunt Margaret says the experience will change me for the better. I don’t know if I’m ready for so much change two days fresh off spring semester.
Daddy looks me over again. He’s proud of the sight of his daughter elegantly dressed in a peach tweed Chanel suit, a white Church hat decorated with peach silk flowers, and peach heels that match my recent manicure and pedicure. I really feel uncomfortable wearing clothes that cost more than most people make in a month.
“You look beautiful.” Daddy says as he smiles at me. “Like you belong on the cover of a magazine.
“Ebony or Essence?”
“I was thinking Black Enterprise.”
Well, he made the cover five years ago so it’ll probably like father, like daughter in a couple of years. “Thanks Daddy.” I say.
I knew this would look good on you.” Aunt Margaret sings. “Oh, you’re going to leave a lasting impression on everyone.”
“I don’t know if I want to dress like this all the time.”
“You’ll get used to it. By the end of the summer, you’ll probably come back with twice as many clothes.”
At 9:45 on the dot, a champagne colored Rolls Royce pulls up in front of my building. The silver haired caramel colored driver wearing a crisp formal buttoned driving uniform steps out of the car and opens the back door. Marcia and Abigail gracefully step out of the backseat dressed in white designer suits, Church hats, and heels. They smile approvingly at the sight of me in designer clothes. I’m still getting used to it.
“Colleen. You look so ladylike.”Marcia says.
“A tremendous improvement from yesterday.” Abigail replies. “There may be hope for you after all.”
I kill her cattiness with kindness. “Thank you.” I say through a pasted on smile.
Aunt Margaret beams proudly about leaving a good first impression on her sisters. She gives me an emotionally disconnected hug before she sends me off. “You have a great summer dear.”
“I’ll try to.” I say breaking the embrace.
Daddy smiles at me proudly and hugs me tightly. Maybe this is one of those big moments in life that seem small now but have a major significance later on.
“Getting a little emotional there.” I joke breaking the embrace.
“Not every day you see your little girl growing up in front of you.” Daddy says.
Daddy holds back tears. I stop myself from getting emotional. “I’ll see you at the end of the summer Pumpkin.” He says smiling at me.
The Chauffeur pops the trunk of the Rolls and loads my bags in. I follow Abigail into the smooth leather back seat of the luxury sedan. Marcia eases in the back seat behind me and the chauffeur closes the back door. I take one last look out the window and wave goodbye to my father as the Chauffeur gets behind the wheel and the car pulls into traffic on its journey to the mysterious Theta House.
Chapter 8
As the Rolls makes its way cross–town, I get to know my fellow Theta sisters. I’m hoping they’re a little bit more forthcoming discussing their sorority than Aunt Margaret was. I’d like to have a little background information before we arrive at the mysterious Theta House.
“Not much room back here. Are we going to pick up any other girls?” I ask.
“Nope, you’re it.” Marcia answers through a smile.
That’s odd. I thought an exclusive organization like The Th
etas would at least have a girl or two joining me to pledge. Isn’t that how sororities do things? Don’t they like to use the group to manipulate the individual into conforming to their way of thinking? It’s kind of hard to have a group to manipulate with only one pledge.
“I’m the only one pledging?” I inquire.
“We believe in the quality of the sister, not a quantity of sisters.” Abigail replies. “By recruiting one sister per semester it allows for the pledge to be fully immersed in Theta culture and indoctrinated effectively in our way of doing things over the course of eight weeks.”
“As your Big Sisters we’re here to give you the guidance and support you’re going to need during the pledging process.” Marcia chimes.
Big Sisters. That’s going to take some getting used to with me being an only child. And I don’t think they know how to play well with others.
“So you’re staying with me?” I inquire.
“Wherever you go, we go.” Abigail sings. “As your Big Sisters we’re going to be sharing a suite in the Theta House during your pledge process.”
Great. I’m spending a whole summer with Big Sisters. Big Sisters who have to be around my age or even younger. Marcia here doesn’t even look old enough to vote.
“Did you graduate yet?” I ask.
“I’m a sophomore at Spelman.” Marcia replies.”
“And I’m in my sophomore year at Columbia.” Abigail says.
Marcia reaches for my glasses and pulls them off my face. “Hey–”
“We’re your Big Sisters.” Marcia reassures as she hands my glasses to Abigail. “Trust us.”
“Can you see without these?” Abigail asks.
“I can get around without them.” I reply.
“You just have such a beautiful face. It’s too pretty to hide behind a pair of glasses.”
“Besides, when people can see your whole face it leaves a stronger impression on them.” Marcia chimes. “And you really want to leave the best impression on the Senior Theta women like your Aunt. They’re the ones who are going to provide you with the connections for the future.”
I get a good look at myself in the rearview mirror. I have to admit I do look a lot cuter in this outfit without the spectacles. I think I can live without them for a while. “Maybe I’ll dig my contacts out of the suitcase for this summer.”