by Robert Mills
The minister spotted me and came bustling over with a reassuring smile.
“Ah, a newcomer I see,” he said. “So glad you could come. What’s your name?”
“Symon,” I said, “Symon Shaw.”
“Good, good, come and meet some of the guys.”
This was not quite what I had in mind, but I followed him dutifully.
“Now, this is Shak and that’s Klint,” he said. “Boys, this is Symon.”
The two boys were, I thought, a little older than me and looked rather boring. Shak wore thick spectacles and Klint had some sort of skin condition. I said I was pleased to meet them.
“Well, I’ll leave you to get to know each other.” The minister smiled again and was off.
At first we looked at each other, trying to think of something to say. Then Klint asked, “Do you live near here?”
“Yes, our house is on Medford Road,” I replied.
There was another pause then Shak asked, “Do you have any brothers and sisters?”
“I have a younger brother.”
“Where do you go to school?” asked Klint.
“I go to Oakwood High School. What about you?”
“We both go to Lloyds Academy,” said Shak.
At this point the minister returned and asked if we would like something to drink. I wasn’t really thirsty but I followed the others to the drinks machine where I accepted a beaker of fizzy red liquid and walked away. I found myself standing alone, as I’d lost touch with the boys I had been previously introduced to and knew no one else. I felt embarrassed and wandered vaguely away from the drinks machine, trying to look as if I had some purpose in doing so. I tried the unappealing contents of my cup; fortunately it wasn’t as bad as I’d expected.
Gardenia was now surrounded by a group of girls and boys on the other side of the room from where I was standing. I wanted to move over to them casually, but my courage failed me. I was still trying to force myself into motion when the minister announced that it was time for the talk. The club members obediently took their seats.
The minister made his way to the front of the assembly and turned to face us. “It’s great to see so many of you here this evening,” he said with a forced smile, “especially as tomorrow is a very special day. Can anyone tell me what it’s called?”
“Good Friday,” said a girl at the front.
“That’s right, Good Friday, the day on which our Lord gave his life for each and every one of us. It’s odd that it’s called ‘Good Friday’, isn’t it? If someone dear to you, like a grandparent or a close friend, died on a Friday you wouldn’t call it ‘Good Friday’, would you? Well, we call it Good Friday because, by taking our sins upon him as he suffered and died on the cross, Christ has saved us from eternal damnation. The salvation He offers is a free gift. We don’t have to do anything to receive it, other than invite Him into our hearts.”
He rambled on in this manner for some time but I was no longer listening. I’d managed to find a seat that allowed me to look along the row to where Gardenia was sitting and was engrossed in glancing furtively in her direction. She seemed to be totally enthralled by the minister’s words and didn’t look my way until he had stopped speaking. She glanced in my direction but looked away as soon as she saw me looking at her. I thought she blushed a little.
When the talk was over the minister said a prayer and then announced that the formal part of the proceedings was at an end. As I wandered vaguely away from my seat he appeared at my elbow.
“We must introduce you to some more members,” he said brightly. I hoped this would mean some of the girls, but instead he led me to another group of boys. “This is Symon, everyone. He’s come along to see what we’re like, so I want you to make him welcome. I’m hoping he’s going to become a member of our little group.” He beamed benevolently.
For the remainder of the evening I engaged in somewhat stilted conversation with my new companions. At length my mother appeared in the doorway to take me home. This was an embarrassing development and annoying, as I’d told her to wait outside until I emerged. Clearly she was impatient to get home and I had to depart. As I left I could see Gardenia talking and laughing with her friends and paying no attention whatsoever to me. I sat gloomily in the passenger seat of the car during the short journey home. I made a mental note to walk home from the meetings in future.
I attended the club each week, but it was more than a month before I plucked up courage to speak to Gardenia. My opportunity came when the minister announced that there was to be a club outing to Canterbury to visit the Cathedral Museum. I had no interest in going to Canterbury, but when he added that Gardenia Freeman would be collecting the names of those who wanted to go, I decided to sign up for the trip. I made my way to the far side of the hall where Gardenia was taking down the names on her wrist tablet. I joined a small queue and was soon face to face with my dream girl.
“I’d like to go on the trip to Canterbury, my name’s Symon Shaw,” I said, trying to sound relaxed, though my heart was pounding in my chest.
“Great, I’ll put your name down.” She turned her large brown eyes on me and they seemed to penetrate to the very core of my being. For a few moments I was transfixed, but then I became aware of people behind me wanting to sign up for the trip.
“What time do we leave?” I asked, purely in order to prolong the interview.
“The coach leaves at ten o’clock from outside the church. I’ll see you there,” she said with a half-smile.
Reluctantly I moved away. I was elated that I’d finally spoken to Gardenia. True, the encounter had been brief and far from intimate but it was a start, and the words ‘I’ll see you there’ echoed in my mind repeatedly. It was almost an invitation to accompany Gardenia to Canterbury as her companion. She hadn’t said it to the people ahead of me in the queue; she had said it to me and me alone.
The day of the visit to Canterbury came at last and I arrived at the church full of eager anticipation. A number of club members were already there and a rather old-looking coach was standing outside the door. There was no sign of Gardenia, but shortly afterwards she appeared with another girl. They boarded the coach and sat together. I sat opposite them and soon the door was closed and we were on our way.
Just before we departed the minister climbed aboard and sat next to me. This was a development I hadn’t bargained for.
“It’s Symon, isn’t it?” he said and I nodded. “It’s a good turn out, isn’t it?” he continued.
“Yes, very good,” I said.
“I’m delighted to have the chance to show you around the cathedral,” he continued. “It used to be one of the most important churches in England. Sadly it’s no longer used for services but you can still feel the influence of all the years of prayer and worship that have taken place there when you step inside. I find it very inspiring.”
“Wonderful,” I said.
“Do you know the Lord Jesus, Symon?” he asked.
“I don’t quite understand what you mean.”
“Have you asked him into your heart?”
I wasn’t sure how to reply. I was afraid that I might reveal my true reason for joining the youth club and I felt sure that he wouldn’t approve if I did and might even ask me to resign. It was clear that I had to say something. “I’m thinking about it,” I said after an uneasy pause. “I haven’t been a member of the group for very long and I think I still have a lot to learn about Christianity.”
“Well, it is our duty to help you along the path to salvation,” he said with a smile. “I hope you’ll feel that you can talk to me at any time, any time at all.”
“Thank you,” I said. He continued in the same vein for the rest of the journey and I was greatly relieved when we reached our destination.
Once inside the huge stone building, I managed to give him the slip. The museum itself had little in
terest for me and I spent my time trying to get close to Gardenia, without much success.
When it was time to go home Gardenia was one of the first to board the coach. I was close behind and when I got inside I saw that she was sitting alone a few rows back. I screwed up all my courage and sat down next to her. To my relief she didn’t tell me to sit somewhere else and even gave me a shy smile.
“Did you find the museum interesting?” I asked.
“Not really,” she said. “I don’t much like old buildings and history and that sort of thing.”
“That’s a relief,” I said. “I thought I was the only one who felt like that.”
“What did you say your name was?”
“Symon Shaw.”
“I’m Gardenia Freeman.”
And so at last I was in conversation with this fabulous creature. To my surprise she was easy to talk to and we chatted happily throughout the journey. By the time we arrived back in Oakwood I knew all about her parents, her brother and her school friends. When we went our separate ways, she said, “See you on Thursday,” and I walked home with a spring in my step and a song in my heart.
I arrived at the youth club the following Thursday determined to ask Gardenia out on a date. When I entered the church I was disturbed to see her talking to a boy I hadn’t seen before, but they soon parted and she came over to me. At her suggestion we collected drinks from the machine and stood in the middle of the hall while we consumed them. For some reason I found myself unable to utter the required invitation.
“Is something bothering you?” Gardenia asked.
“No,” I said.
“Then why do you look so miserable?”
“I’m fine, really,” I said. She looked as if she was about to move off and speak to someone else so I blurted out in desperation, “I was wondering if you’d like to go to the cineplex with me.”
“Well, yes,” she said. “What’s on?”
Now my careful planning paid off. “It’s a holo-film called Anacranon. It’s supposed to be very good.”
“What sort of film is it?”
“It’s a sort of science fiction romance; it’s set in the year 2553 and it’s about two lovers who have to cross the galaxy so that they can be together.”
“Do you think it’s suitable for people of our age?”
“Oh yes, I’m sure it is.”
“I’ll have to check with Mum and Dad. I’d like to come if they say it’s OK.”
To my great relief her parents gave their approval. We arranged to meet outside the local cineplex, a rather dilapidated building in a nearby shopping centre. I arrived early in a state of high anxiety and anticipation. At last a car pulled up and Gardenia joined me on the pavement and waved to her father as he pulled away. I swiped my wrist tablet across the payment sensor and we took our seats. It was the first time I’d been alone with Gardenia, if being in a crowded cinema can be described as ‘alone’. She was wearing garments which clung to every curve of her figure and through the gloom I could make out the sensuous lines of her face and neck. I longed to hold her hand, but didn’t dare to take it. She was totally absorbed in the film and didn’t seem to notice me looking at her. At the end she turned to me and smiled. Outside we blinked in the sunshine.
“Can I walk you home?” I asked hesitantly. She nodded.
It was quite a long way but I didn’t mind. I was glad of anything that would allow me to spend more time with her. We set off and once again I wanted to hold her hand, but was afraid she would object. The last thing I wanted was a public rejection.
We spoke about the film and she talked about her friends at school and the club. I was happy to listen and contribute only when required. When we arrived at her gate she went straight through and closed it behind her. This clearly indicated that our date was at an end and that I was dismissed. I felt a little crushed. Then she leaned over the gate and kissed me on the cheek.
“Thank you for a lovely afternoon,” she said with a radiant smile.
“Would you like to go out with me again?” I asked quickly before she could set off up the path.
“Of course,” she said, and with a little wave she was gone.
As I walked back home I felt elated. Gardenia was now my girlfriend. All my dreams were coming true and my future seemed to be mapped out clearly before me; I would marry Gardenia and live happily ever after. It was all so perfect.
Chapter Five
Just when everything was going well, disaster struck. It was partly my fault; if I hadn’t been daydreaming as I stepped off the pavement to cross the road I would have seen the approaching car and held back. I was told later that the automatic braking system had functioned normally, but that I was within the vehicle’s stopping distance at the speed it was doing. When the car was examined it was found that the speed limiter had been illegally modified. The driver had switched off the autopilot and was doing fifty miles an hour, instead of the speed limit of twenty. I was evacuated by air ambulance to the regional trauma centre, which was fifty miles from my home.
I woke up with a bad headache to find my right leg surrounded by a smartsplint. My first thought was that I must call Gardenia using my wrist tablet, but to my horror I found that it was missing. My parents came to visit me soon after I recovered consciousness and explained that it had been destroyed in the crash. They promised to bring me a new one when they returned the next day. However, it was not until late the following afternoon that I was able to make the call. Once I’d been through the setup routine, I expanded the screen and said, “Call Gardenia”. A message flashed up: ‘Gardenia unavailable’. I tried again an hour later and to my relief I was rewarded with the sight of her face. I explained my plight.
“Oh dear,” she said. “Where are you?”
“The London Trauma Centre.”
“That’s miles away.”
“Can you come and see me?” I said urgently. “I think there’s a transit station nearby.”
She frowned. “I’ll try,” she said, “but I’m not sure I’ll be able to. I’ll ask my parents.”
This was not the response I’d been hoping for. Worse still, she called later to say that her father had said that she could only come to the hospital if she was accompanied by one of them and that they were both too busy. She said she’d call again, but only did so once and on that occasion she had very little to say and hung up after only a few minutes. I was hugely disappointed.
Marvin, on the other hand, came to see me and sent me regular messages. During his visit he told me that a couple of boys from the youth club who went to our school had approached him and suggested that he go along to see if he’d like to join. “What do you think?” he asked. “Would you recommend I go?” I viewed the prospect of Marvin attending the club with mixed feelings. It would be good to have him around, but on the other hand he might prove to be serious competition. After all, a tall, good-looking fair-haired boy, who was a little older and therefore more mature, could potentially have enormous appeal to the female club members. I was particularly concerned that Gardenia would be just as likely to excite Marvin’s interest as she had mine. I deliberately hadn’t said anything to him about going out with her in order to avoid the comments that would inevitably follow such a disclosure. My reply advised against joining the club, as it wasn’t ‘his sort of thing’.
The following Friday I got a text message from him: I finally got round to visiting your youth club last night. Phillip, who is in my year at school, dragged me along. I must say there are some very cute girls there. There’s one I really like, her name’s Gardenia Freeman. Do you know her? I am planning to go along again and see if I can ask her out.
A stab of anguish lanced through my body. It seemed that my worst fears were being realised, but what could I do? I comforted myself with the notion that she might turn him down, but despite this I remained uneasy. I replied saying that
I did know Gardenia and that I thought she already had a boyfriend. I thought this was a rather clever ruse at the time.
My level of anxiety rose exponentially when I received another message from Marvin, which said: I expect you remember me telling about a girl called Gardenia. Well, I’m going to the cineplex with her tomorrow. She really seems quite keen and I must say I can’t wait for our date. She lives somewhere near you I think. I’ll let you know how I get on.
My heart sank. Could it be that my one chance of true love was to be lost because of my cousin? This idea seems ludicrous now, but at the time it seemed an all too genuine possibility. I pondered what to do. I could hardly claim she was mine when I’d only been out with her once. In the end I couldn’t think of anything that didn’t make me appear deceitful, because I hadn’t told Marvin about Gardenia, or pathetic, because she appeared to prefer him. In the end I didn’t reply to the message.
I spent a gloomy, sleepless night tormented by images of Marvin and Gardenia together, holding hands, kissing and engaging in more intimate relations. At the time my concept of what ‘more intimate relations’ might consist of was, admittedly, rather hazy. This did not in any way reduce the pain which such thoughts caused me. For the remainder of my stay in hospital I had to endure a blow-by-blow account of Marvin’s progress with my would-be lover. His early attempts were rebuffed but in due course he was able to report that they’d enjoyed an amazing kiss.
When I was discharged from the trauma unit I travelled home with mixed feelings. It would be good to be back with my family, of course, but the prospect of seeing Marvin and Gardenia together in the flesh, as opposed to in my nightmares, was more than I could bear to contemplate. My mother greeted me with her usual enthusiasm and Tom was pleased to see me, though he tried not to show it. I wasn’t sure if they had detected my gloomy mood.
