At some point, I realized that I had control over my actions, and I didn’t have to react to Steffy. My life was much calmer since this realization. My real friends stood with me through everything and never treated me differently.
Mom was busy making lists and humming a favorite tune as she flitted through the house. She smiled when she saw me. “Did you see the sign?”
I nodded. “Things are moving quickly,” I said.
“The firm in Atlanta wants your father to start at the beginning of the month. Isn’t it wonderful? Your father is such a brilliant man. I’m glad this whole situation is almost over, and we can get on with our lives.”
I walked from room to room behind Mom, not saying anything but imagining leaving this house. This house. My home. No place else would seem like home.
“We’re going house hunting in Atlanta next weekend,” Mom said.
“Do I have to go?” I asked.
“House hunting?”
“To Atlanta to live.”
Mom turned quickly, her attention fully on me. She grabbed my hand and led me to the kitchen table. She got juice from the ’frig and poured glasses full for both of us.
“What’s going on?” she asked. “Talk to me.”
“I’m not sure I want to move away to a strange place. I mean, my friends are here. This is home for me. I only have one more year of school before college. I want to graduate with my friends. I realize that might not be possible now because of our finances, but what if I stayed here?”
“Where would you live?” Mom asked.
“Maybe I could live with Tiffany and Aunt Ira.”
Mom furrowed her brow as she did when she was in deep thought. “That’s an idea,” she said.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’m just feeling disjointed, like my world is coming apart bit by bit.”
“I’ll discuss it with your Dad when he comes home,” she promised. “Don’t worry, we’ll come up with something that we all can live with.”
Their solution? I’d spend the weekend with Tiffany, Aunt Ira, and Uncle Bob. Anything else, we would discuss later. Of course, there was no promise that I could continue to go to my same school and graduate with my friends.
The weekend would be interesting, especially since I hadn’t spent any time alone with my extended family in recent years, except for the trip to Chicago. I drove over to Tiffany’s house after school on Friday.
Aunt Ira came out to greet me as soon as I drove into their driveway. She held out her arms. “Lauren, I’m so glad you are here!”
We embraced, then walked arm in arm into the house. “It’s been awhile since you’ve stayed the night,” she said.
At the foot of the stairs, a strong memory washed over me. I laughed. “I remember scooting down these steps with Tiffany.”
“You girls laughed and giggled about nothing.”
“It was a fun time.”
“You girls can still have fun times,” Aunt Ira said. “Tiffany has the whole weekend planned for you.”
“She does?”
“Absolutely! You’re our guest this weekend.”
I followed Aunt Ira upstairs. “Let’s put your bag in Tiffany’s room. You’ll stay in here this weekend. She has an extra bed. This is where her girlfriends stay when they spend the night.”
Aunt Ira put the bag on one of the beds. “I hope you don’t mind staying here instead of in the guest room. I want you girls to be close again.”
“I don’t mind.” And I didn’t. I wanted to be close to Tiffany, too.
“Tiffany has debate practice after school. She should be here by six. Come on downstairs while I finish preparing dinner.”
Their house was warm and cozy. I’d noticed the warmth as soon as I walked through the door. The heat wrapped itself around me and exuded from every nook and cranny. I relished it as I followed Aunt Ira to the kitchen.
A regional basketball tournament was being held at Tiffany’s school. As soon as she got home and we ate dinner, it was time to leave. Aunt Ira and Uncle Bob were going out to dinner and a movie. It was a hectic time, everyone arriving home at one time, getting dinner, and leaving for the evening. Like it used to be at my house.
I rode to the game with Tiffany in her car. As we entered the gym the atmosphere was electric. Students from the various schools wore school colors and cheered avidly for their teams. Parents were there also and just as pumped. The crowd yelled at the players and gave the referees grief when they made a wrong call or what was perceived as favoring the other team.
The atmosphere was totally different from the basketball games at my school. We cheered for our team but it was more subdued. Here at Lincoln Prep there was history. Grandfathers and grandmothers, and fathers and mothers, and aunts and uncles attended school here before their kids, and they came back for games. It may not have been a prep school all those years ago but the name Lincoln was a source of pride and honor.
In some strange way I felt at home even though I had never set foot on this campus before. There was a tugging at my heart that this was where I belonged. I soaked up every ray of joy and pride, as if this were my school. I fit right into Tiffany’s circle of friends. Her boyfriend, Napoleon—‘Nap’ for short, reminded me of Jay.
Nap arrived at the game with friends. He quickly left them to sit with Tiffany. They held hands throughout the evening, as if it were the most natural thing. When Nap left to get refreshments he always asked me if I wanted anything.
Tiffany’s girlfriends hugged me and made me feel as one of them and even suggested that I transfer to their school for my senior year. I was sure they knew all about our situation, but they didn’t have that strange look on their faces as if they pitied me. They made me feel as if I were their equal, as just another girlfriend.
Saturday we spent all day at the tournament too. At meal time we ate hot dogs and chili dogs, and nachos and drank energy beverages. It was a fun time. If I had been with my friends, we would have left the game and gone to a restaurant to eat.
This was more fun. We didn’t miss a minute of the tournament. Tiffany and her friends knew people from all over the district. They had met them in their debate competitions and through just being around at various events. I felt like part of this community of students.
Mrs. Stevens would be here next year teaching journalism. If I transferred here, I could learn a lot more from her.
When I found my mind wandering to Jay and wondering what he was up to, I pinched myself. I didn’t have time to think about such heavy issues. I was having too much fun.
The tournament ended at midnight. I hated for it to end. At this moment in time I was just a teenager, a normal teen, having a good time with new friends. I could be myself without sad eyes following my every move. I was free to construct my own life script without worrying about what was expected of me.
Aunt Ira and Uncle Bob had waited up for us. When we were safely home, they went to bed. Both Tiffany and I were tired. It had been a very long day. I easily drifted off to sleep and slept more peacefully than I had in a long time. Tiffany wasn’t interested in staying up half the night getting my life story and prying into my family’s affairs. She treated me with respect and gave me space. Besides we had to go to church tomorrow.
Sunday was family day at Tiffany’s house. They went to Sunday School and church together. Each had their individual duties to perform at church. Tiffany sang in the teen choir. Aunt Ira was a greeter who welcomed each person into the church with a smile. Uncle Bob was a respected deacon who handled problems that arose on Sunday mornings.
Meanwhile, I was left to sit by myself and enjoy the service. The vibrant, lively soul-stirring music enveloped me and carried me outside of myself.
Majestic! Reverent! The whole atmosphere surrounded me and lifted me to a higher level. It wasn’t just the Praise Singers. The entire congregation was on its feet singing and swaying to the music. But I just sat there taking it all in. Their voices were glorious.
; The minister of music stepped to the podium. “All over this building with your hands lifted up, ask God to come into your hearts and into your lives.” Then he turned back to the choir and another song. The church was rocking!
As the music continued, I could feel my heart soften. Soon I was on my feet singing along with everybody. I didn’t know that music had the ability to transcend and transform. The people were openly praising and worshipping God. This was a new experience for me. There were so many feelings that I felt. Each song soothed my soul and quieted my fears. The choir sang a mixture of traditional, contemporary gospel, and spirituals. Each song had the ability to touch me in ways I never imagined.
Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost but now am found
Was blind but now I see
T’was Grace that taught
My heart to fear
And Grace, my fears relieved
How precious did that Grace appear
The hour I first believed
Through many dangers, toils, and snares
We have already come
T’was Grace that brought us safe thus far
And Grace will lead us home
As we sang the hymn, church members went to each visitor and greeted them. I was embraced warmly and welcomed to the church with smiles and well wishes. Before the sermon, the choir sang again. This time Tiffany was the lead singer. Her voice rang out with such spirit. I was amazed at the ability of her voice to caress each note and touch my heart.
The sermon transfixed me. It was as if the pastor was speaking directly to me. He started with a scripture from the book of Psalms. “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” He explained that life can be difficult and sometimes painful. But if we put our faith in God, He will help us. We can take shelter in Him. He said we would find peace for today, strength for tomorrow, and hope for a brighter future. When he finished, he invited everyone who hadn’t done so to invite God into their hearts. The choir sang while the pastor admonished, “Don’t let go until God blesses you.”
People from across the building moved to the altar. I felt tears streaming down my face, and before I knew it I, too, was down front. For so long, I had felt empty inside, now my heart was overflowing. I wanted to feel that peace inside me. I wanted God’s strength to get through my tomorrows. But most of all I wanted hope for the future. Right then, I invited God into my heart.
I felt someone take my hand. It was Tiffany. She had come from the choir to stand with me. Then I felt arms around my shoulders. They were Aunt Ira’s arms. She was standing with me too. As I poured out my heart to God, I felt as if my burdens had been lifted. And I felt the love of my family.
A celebratory song ended the service. We left church with friends of Uncle Bob and Aunt Ira’s. We followed them to their house where we had dinner. Again, I was welcomed into the fold and treated with kindness and made to feel like one of the family.
Aunt Ira kept hugging me. “I’m so glad you came down to the altar to invite God into your life,” she said when we had a moment alone. “But don’t expect everything to suddenly work out. Faith is a journey, one you will be walking all your life.”
That night, back at Tiffany’s house, we played board games and a card game. Aunt Ira reigned as queen of games. I almost took her crown once, but she rallied and beat me by one point. There’s no point in comparing my family to Tiffany’s family. We are each a part of the other. Being in one family is not better than being a part of the other family.
I missed the camaraderie our families used to have when I was younger. Even though we had all gotten busier as the years passed, we shouldn’t have lost that special family closeness. I wish I could get it back. But Dad had a new job in Atlanta. We were moving. There was no way I could be close to Tiffany and Aunt Ira again if I moved away.
I loved my weekend here, and I’ll remember it forever because I got my soul back. And most importantly, not one snarl from Tiffany all weekend.
I was beginning to discover a part of me that I didn’t know existed, or had forgotten existed. Being part of an extended family and loving it.
27
Traffic was horrible.
The drive back to Fairfield was long, with lots of stop and go traffic and accidents along the way. I was grateful we lived in Fairfield. At least I didn’t have to navigate traffic every morning on the freeway. A very stressful drive. Cars cutting in front of others without any warning. And people driving like maniacs across three lanes to make an exit. Madness. Now I could appreciate Dad’s desire to shelter me from the masses. We didn’t have bumper-to-bumper traffic in Fairfield.
I was glad I had left Tiffany’s house at six a.m. I arrived at the park at my usual time. The water in the Missouri River was turbulent and filled with debris. I was amazed at what I saw. Huge logs floated atop the rapidly swirling water. Dead tree trunks drifted by. As I contemplated the storms and flooding that occurred in the cities and towns upriver to cause the water to be filled with such junk, Sidewinder stopped running and came over to look at the river.
“I’ve never seen it this bad,” he said, nodding at the river. “There was flooding in Iowa last week. It’s amazing what the river will claim.”
Pipes and other large pieces of metal sailed past us. I didn’t say anything. I was annoyed at being disturbed. This was my private time. I needed to get my equilibrium back after being stressed in traffic. And I needed to think about what I had felt in church yesterday. The river wasn’t helping. The water was dirty and filled with junk, huge pieces of junk.
Sidewinder continued to talk, as he looked out towards the river. “I admire you. You come here every day, even though your mother has stopped coming. That says something about you.”
I looked down, avoiding his eyes. But I didn’t have to bother because he wasn’t looking my way anyway.
“You see, I know when people are made of strong stuff,” he said. “When I was struck with this disease I decided that I wouldn’t be a victim of circumstance. That’s why I’m out here every day. The doctor said I would be paralyzed within a year after my diagnosis. That was three years ago.”
I don’t know why, but people out here had a desire to tell me their life stories. “What happened?” I asked.
“Well I acted like you’re expected to at first. I was in a daze. I refused to believe it. I sat around home and ate anything I wanted. I figured I was going to be dead soon anyway, so what was the use in taking care of my body?
“I had been a track star in high school and college. I was training for the Olympics when I was struck down. I was running one day on the track and my legs gave out. I didn’t have control of my body, my arms flailed wildly, and I couldn’t control any of my movements. I thought I’d had a stroke.
“I was taken off the track on a stretcher. I prayed that I wouldn’t die before I said good-bye to my parents and girlfriend and my buddies. That was the most frightening feeling I ever had. Not knowing what was happening. I was fit. In top shape. I ate the right foods. This wasn’t supposed to be happening to me. I was only twenty-three years old.”
I immediately was sorry about my thoughts earlier. Here stood somebody with real problems, life-threatening problems. And I was whining about traffic and my life.
“But it wasn’t a stroke?” I asked, hoping he could hear tenderness in my voice and not pity.
“Nope! It wasn’t a stroke. It was something much worse. I had a debilitating disease that slowly takes your muscle strength and leaves you helpless. As the disease progresses, you’re like a prisoner in your body. It affects everybody differently. In some people it’s barely noticeable, but in others it totally ravages the body. And I had the aggressive type.
“I asked God what had I done to deserve this. I had to move back home with my parents. My mother made me go for rehabilitation. I didn’t see why I should since I was going to be paralyzed soon. Now I’m glad she did.
I regained the use of my legs and then my arm strength came back later. But you probably haven’t noticed that I can’t hold my head up straight.”
I smiled. So did he. “What’s your name?” I asked. Somehow, I didn’t think Sidewinder was appropriate anymore.
He turned to face me. “David. David Gandy.”
“Gandy Fine Furniture,” I murmured.
“My parents’ store. And mine, I guess. I work there now. No more Olympic training for me.”
I was still interested in how he started back running. “But you can run.”
He laughed softly. “You know, a funny thing happens when you get a little clarity. When I got the use of my legs and arms back, the doctor said it would only be for a little while before I would be totally helpless. But I told myself that I was going to get better and not be paralyzed. The doctor wasn’t offering any solutions so I decided that I would take matters into my own hands.
“The only thing I knew how to do was run, and that’s what I did, although my mother wanted me to just walk along the trail. But I couldn’t. I had to run. And through God’s grace I’ve been running ever since.”
“Wow!” I didn’t know what else to say. “Where’s your girlfriend? Does she come here with you?”
“A casualty of my illness,” he said. “She left me. She couldn’t deal with me since I was no longer perfect.” Sadness briefly flickered in his eyes. He quickly dispensed of it.
“I’ll see you later, Lauren,” he said.
How did he know my name? He saw my surprise and smiled.
“I saw your name in the paper,” he said right before he took off jogging.
I watched him until he was out of sight. He had given me lots to think about. Maybe I didn’t have to be a victim of circumstance either. I could take matters into my own hands too. I didn’t have to move to Atlanta with my parents to start over. I hadn’t done anything to start over from.
The People in the Park Page 10
