by S. E. Akers
Once the opening prayer had been given and several of our teachers had passed on their valuable words of wisdom, Mr. Harless called me up to give Katie’s remembrance speech. I approached the podium with a reserved stride. If the wand that was hidden under my robe didn’t feel like enough of a spotlight, the thousand plus sets of eyes on me sure did. Caves didn’t look so bad right now — not any of them!
I grabbed my first set of note cards, the ones I’d specifically crafted for my bosom friend. At least I could get an ironic mental laugh to ease my nerves. And that I got, when I discovered that they weren’t the words I’d written. I tapped my “new” remembrance speech on the corner of the podium as I scanned the balcony. I spotted her immediately, top center, sitting in the back row. Well, I assumed that was her, the female hiding behind the dark shades and platinum blonde wig nuzzled beside Tanner — waving to me. I lowered my head and grinned, pleased to see them both.
“Thank you,” I whispered mentally to Tanner.
“I thought you’d be pleased,” he replied.
I truly felt that what I’d written was more than “moving”, but apparently she had a few “sweet” sentiments of her own. I began by reading what sounded like the beginning of a dramatic and poignant biography (one worthy of The History Channel) that started off with Julia Stowell going years thinking she couldn’t have children and then ended with a miraculous gift when Katie clawed her way out of her mother’s womb (I am not kidding). The accolades rolled on, from every award she had ever won, all the clubs she had participated in, and every noteworthy charitable act she had ever done. “Mother Teresa” even stood up several times, gesturing with her hands for me to milk the emotion some more. I was pretty sure Tanner was sitting up there stewing right about now, one-hundred and ten percent regretful about lifting that spell. The only thing that kept me in check was seeing her parents’ misty-eyed, smiling faces in the front row. Despite what I considered her motives had been for switching my speech, she knew best what her parents wanted and needed to hear.
But they still looked at me like a daggone stranger while they asked themselves, “Now, ‘who’ is that girl up there and ‘why’ is she speaking?”
As soon as the applause that followed Katie’s tribute had started to wind down, I stepped away from the podium so our guest speaker and former alumni, Dr. Tyrone Patterson, could take his turn. The Stanford Graduate had received his doctorate in medicine ten years ago, recently given up his practice in the states, and was now dedicating his life-saving skills to the people living in a small village in Nepal. I’d heard that he was supposed to talk to us about finding true satisfaction in our lives — fulfillment that a fancy degree or a fist-full of dollars could never buy.
And I had to eventually follow that act.
I’d just started down the steps of the stage when a loud “bang” thundered through the auditorium, commanding EVERYONE’S attention. Heads whipped around quicker than you could cry, “whiplash”. I followed suit and spotted the latecomers sashaying down the aisle.
Thank goodness the blood rushing to my face kept me from freezing right where I stood. Low and behold, it was my mother, accompanied by my little sister, who had made the cringingly awkward and abrupt entrance. That was bad enough, but seeing her actually “working the crowd”, “waving”, and randomly telling folks that she “couldn’t find a place to park” (loudly) as she searched for an empty seat made me want to turn invisible right then and there. Even Chloe had enough sense to ditch her halfway through her showy parade when she darted into a section where some of her friends were sitting.
Leave it to Charlotte to “make an entrance”. Despite my embarrassment, I had to admit my heart felt genuinely gratified that they’d both shown up after all.
I made my way back to the podium as soon as Dr. Patterson concluded his encouraging message about self-sacrifice. The angle of his grin throughout his speech was just as moving as his emotionally charged words. He truly was “satisfied” in every way, shape, and form. I smiled as I walked past him. No amethyst needed there.
All in all, I decided to go for “sincere” and “short” (though compared to the good doctor’s speech, “sincerely short” seemed like a more appropriate description). I reflected upon the four-year path we had walked along together, which had brought us to the first of Life’s many finish lines. Once I’d given our teachers and elders their due praise, I turned my focus to the friendships we had made and those new ones yet to be gained. If I’d learned anything these past seven months it was how important they were in defining us as individuals. That though people will float in and out of our lives, the ones who count will shadow us even in their absence, especially if they have left a tender and irrevocable mark on our soul. And that if we were lucky, really lucky, fate would see to it that the ones we think are “lost forever” will make their way back to us, just like they had never left.
I could tell by Katie’s smile that she liked that part.
I then shifted into a message for our destinies by saying, “Right now, our futures may seem like blank pages in a book… Inspiring for some, yet daunting for others. We must always remember to fill them, even if the lines we sketch take the form of mistakes. Through our conviction and our efforts, even those scribbles can be erased. But the indentations left on the pages of our past serve to remind us of the person we aspire to be. So that at the end of our journey, when we’re staring at our book and flipping through our past, only the best parts of ourselves are reflected and only what matters most stands out on each of its pages… No matter what shape they take. Daily acts of kindness. Showing that we appreciate our blessings. Or something as overlooked as loving ourselves along the way. Everything that hindered us inevitably fades into the background.”
I wrapped up my speech with one simple request. “I have no fool-proof plan for personal success to reveal, no innovative high-tech gadget to make your life easy, or even a magical wand to wave,” I recited, trying to subdue a creeping grin. “All I can offer are these words I’ve spoken for your reflection and my heartfelt wish that throughout your life, whenever the roses that line your path are few or do not smell as sweet, you will at least remember the limitless feeling that swells inside you as you sit in your chairs today and draw upon its strength for guidance. And above all, know that a tomorrow full of hope awaits to guide you along your way.”
I glided back to my seat in a noiseless daze. I saw hands clapping and smiling faces, but my selfish wish that I would heed my own advice whirled through my head. Bea had told me that “hope” was the most comforting force in the universe. And for my sake, with all that loomed on my supernatural horizon, I prayed she was right.
Once the last ribbon-bound diploma had been presented and all the dangling tassels had been turned officially to their respective “left”, a barrage of satiny golden hats went sailing triumphantly into the air amidst a boisterous round of howls and cheers. I grabbed one that had landed closest to me and hurried my way through the crowd, dying to know why the terrible-twosome had bothered to come at all. I sure didn’t think that Hell had frozen over this morning, but it was worth a check.
I caught up to my mother outside, trying to make her escape. “You came,” I said robotically. I thought it best to throw her off with that instead of the “are-you-freakin’-lost” look that was written all over my face. One of the photographers from our school paper happened to butt right in.
“How about a picture with your daughter, Mrs. Wallace? I bet you’re really proud of her,” he remarked politely.
Charlotte didn’t say a word as she wrapped her arm around me like a pageant bouquet full of thorns, teeth clamped shut with an over-the-top smile while she wished the pain away.
“I’m just here for appearances,” Charlotte whispered in my ear as he snapped the picture. “Honestly, how would it look if I didn’t show up?” She pointed to the photographer and flashed a sweet smile. “Now, I want several copies of those!”
For what? Targe
t practice?
I wasn’t going to bring it up, but seeing my mother working the crowd, smiling and waving like I was a trophy she was showing off, it was all I could take.
“I’m heading home to get my things. I’d hate for the sheriff to haul them off,” I threw in artfully. “When do y’all have to be out?”
Charlotte was unusually quiet, though she squirmed like a rat trying to wiggle out of a trap. She mumbled something under her breath. I got the gist of what she’d said, but I wanted her to repeat it, clearly this time.
“What was that?” I asked, innocently cupping my hand around my ear.
“You heard me,” my mother growled through her smile. “Someone anonymously paid off the house.”
All the rest of your bills too. “You’re kidding?” I asked, keeping up my act.
“Imagine that,” Charlotte surmised with a scowl and stormed off without even so much as a glance back.
I guessed that was the closest thing to a “thank you” I should have expected. A pair of arms wrapped around me not a second later. By the smell of jasmine and musk, I knew exactly whose death-grip I was locked in.
“Congratulations, darlin’!” Naomi cried. “Your speech moved me to tears.” She squeezed me even tighter. “Now I won’t have to worry about ya up there in Yankee country all alone.” She pulled back quickly and narrowed her eyes. “Unless you were shovelin’ somethin’ up there?”
“No,” I laughed. “It was a genuine crap-free speech. I swear.”
“Good,” she said. “How’s the album comin’?”
“It’s not quite finished yet, but I’m working on it,” I insisted. “It actually inspired part of my speech. Thanks, Naomi.”
“See,” Naomi gloated and gave Charlie a nudge. “I told ya it would help her.” She pulled me closer. “He had his doubts,” she whispered. “Typical man.”
“She’ll have plenty of time to work on it,” Charlie remarked with a frown. “Are you sure I can’t talk you into pullin’ a couple of shifts this summer? Not even for a raise?”
“Oh, NOW ya wanna give her a raise?” Naomi groaned. “Darlin’, she needs a break. She’s gonna be off to college this fall. She’s been hoppin’ cars since she turned sixteen.” Naomi eyed a couple of our school’s football players as they walked past. “She needs to have some fun. Sew some oats,” she added, twitching her brow.
Charlie and I shook our heads.
“But don’t fill that thing up this summer. Save the last few pages for our weddin’. I can’t wait for ya to see the bridesmaid dresses!”
“So you finally decided on one?” I asked.
“Yep! I went with a slim brown one,” Naomi bragged as she ran her hands down her sides. “They’ll go perfect with the flowers I picked out.”
Charlie laughed. “For what those things cost, she could have just had y’all dip yourselves in chocolate.” Naomi gave Charlie a smack. “Don’t even think about packing on that Freshman-Fifteen — I’m serious! I’m planning on having brown duct tape and oxygen tanks on standby.”
Naomi pondered her fiancés’ remark. “Make sure I have your address, so I can have yours shipped up to ya for a fittin’…to be safe.”
Just hearing about the dress made me take a deep breath. “As soon as I get settled, I’ll call you with it.”
“Good. Now give us a hug,” Naomi insisted.
I hugged them both, knowing the next time I saw them would be right before their nuptials. Charlie slipped an envelope into my hand.
“Don’t be a stranger this summer,” he whispered. That made me feel even worse about not telling them.
“Good-bye, Charlie.” I peeked into the envelope. Five crisp one-hundred dollar bills were tucked inside. I gave him a swift peck. “Thank you…for everything.”
“Bring me some good gossip when ya stop by this summer,” Naomi hollered. I simply smiled and waved back, not wanting to imply a thing.
I was halfway to my car when I heard Kara hollering for me to “stop”. I turned to see her frantically zigzagging through the crowd.
“Are you sure you won’t change your mind and come with us to Myrtle Beach?” Kara asked. “Who wouldn’t want two weeks of tanning on the beach and crusin’ the surf on jet skis?”
In the ocean? Not happing! “I’m sure,” I insisted with a firm nod. “I’ve got a full summer planned.”
Kara gave me a hug and whispered, “Don’t forget my number, friend.”
“I won’t,” I replied. Mike pulled up in his red Camaro and honked his horn. I held her back and whispered, “Try to play a little hard-to-get.” I figured I’d throw in a little of Samuel’s advice as well. “And behave.”
Kara grinned as she worked her way around to the passenger-side. “You too,” she teased with a wink. “I saw who was sitting up in the balcony. But I’d keep an eye on him. There was some blonde chick hanging all over him.” Kara snarled her nose. “But she looked like a total skank!”
I’ll be sure to pass that on, I laughed as I watched them drive off.
I checked the time on my phone as soon as I got to my car. I only had a little over an hour to run back home, change, throw my boxes in the car, and drop them off to be shipped. I really wanted to catch Samuel before I left, but the thick lingering crowd and dwindling minutes inevitably altered my plan. Our earlier “good-bye” would just have to sentimentally-suffice.
After all, I’m going to call him every week…and I’ll see him in November. I grinned. Ms. Marion-free.
Twenty long minutes later, I pulled out of the parking lot — FINALLY. Another swift and speedy ten and I was just about to whip into my drive. Thankfully all the town cops were sitting back at the Armory staking out the speeders there. A sad pang hit my chest as I threw my Charger into park. I could have made it in seven flat if I my graduation present wasn’t at a daggone body shop!
Yeah… I was still pretty ticked about that.
I raced up the steps and threw open the door, only to be greeted by an infuriating site. My things were still stacked up and waiting on me, but it was what rested on top of the pile that caused me to hit the roof. My hands locked on to my hips in a clench while my foot tapped a repetitive little number on the hardwood floor. There was Daddy’s cookie jar, Old Joe, the one my mother had tried to pawn off on me when she claimed it was my ‘Christmas Present’. But there it lay, gleaming under the foyer lights — daggone wood shelf and all.
No freakin’ way!
I picked it up carefully and marched into the kitchen like a soldier about to plant his flag on enemy soil. Once it was securely back where it belonged atop the hutch, I rummaged through our junk drawer in the kitchen in search of some Krazy Glue. After a couple of beads around the rim of the shelf and one trip out to the workshop for the old caulk gun, Old Joe wasn’t going ANYWHERE! I made sure of that when I shot some silicone under the legs of her precious antique hutch, gluing it to the linoleum floor.
I stood back and grinned. Try moving it now…
I had the car almost packed when I heard the faint sound of a familiar engine barreling down the road. Part of me wanted to be already gone before they had returned, but that “good fortune” apparently wasn’t in my cards.
I ran inside to grab the last box when something hit me. I wouldn’t see them again for a while, not for six months. I’d never gone that long without any family interaction. Granted, most of the time it was full of conflict, but it wasn’t always bad. There had been some good times (way, way back). Not many, but enough to score my heart. With my last box in tow, I let out a sappy sigh as I closed the front door.
My mother almost fell out of the car she was moving so fast. “Need any help?” Charlotte asked anxiously as she ran up the steps.
“Nope,” I replied. “This is my last haul. And by the way, I locked my bedroom door…just in case either of you get any crazy redecorating ideas.” I aimed that one at my artsy little sister who was slinking into the house. “You’re not rid of me just yet. I’ll be home the
week of Thanksgiving.”
“Can’t you stay with that old Beatrix Sutherland?” Charlotte snapped.
I wrestled a lump loose from my throat. “No,” I said, trying not to let my voice crack. “It was time for her to move on.”
Charlotte ran into the house but returned in a flash, practically panting. “You forgot something!”
“No. I didn’t,” I replied with a heated stare. “And it better be here when I come home, sitting right where it is…still in one-piece.” I hoisted the last box on my hip and pivoted around. “I think we both know you owe me that much.”
She charged into the house, cussing and stomping around for a solid minute, certainly loud enough for the entire mountainside to hear. I waited throughout her entire conniption, fully expecting her to toss the hideous cookie jar onto the porch, but she never did.
Shiloh — One. Charlotte — ZIP!
Just as I’d placed my last box in the backseat, Chloe came running out of the house.
“Here,” Chloe said as she held out her hand. To my complete surprise, there was her oval golden locket dangling before my eyes. It was the one identical to mine that contained pictures of our parents — the very one like I used to have, but could never open because of the vile onyx hidden inside that had been laced with a tracking spell. “I don’t know what Mom did with yours,” my little sister admitted. “I haven’t seen it since you knocked it out of her hand. I never wear mine. It’s a little old-fashion for my taste… And anyway, you need something around that pale neck of yours.” Chloe rolled her eyes into a snotty glare. “And to dress up those awful sweatshirts you’re always wearing.”
Charlotte stepped onto the porch. “Chloe, WHAT are you doing? Come inside! Shiloh needs to go!”
“Bye,” Chloe muttered. She turned and ran straight into the house, but not quick enough. I managed to catch the hint of a smile.
I stared at the necklace like you would a long lost friend. With a deep breath I started to put it on, but decided to take a cautious “safety peek” first (even in spite of the curly “C” plainly engraved on the front). I opened the clasp effortlessly for the first time.
