From that day forward, things were different. For one thing, Johnny never rode our bus again, and I never saw him hang out with Max again. I was never able to tell Dominique or Aurelia about the event – I couldn’t bring myself to hurt their feelings like that – but I promised myself that I would somehow make up for the cruel words Johnny said. Even if Dominique and Aurelia never knew.
The biggest impact was on my view of Johnny and Max. I now detested Johnny for his asinine bigoted behavior, and, because Max put his principles above his friendship with Johnny, I loved him even more than I had before.
Another plus: this was the closest thing to a race riot that ever happened during my years at WMHS. My worries and fears began to alleviate when I discovered that most of the kids on my bus were not racist at all, and I felt that was a good representation of the school. WMHS was beginning to look like an okay school after all.
Olivia and I decided to go shopping for Max’s gift. We took a city bus to the mall and spent most of the day just looking around. We tried on expensive clothes in exclusive shops and pretended to be rich girls planning for a weekend yachting trip. We dined on free samples and “Beef-on-a-Stick” at Hickory Farms, and then we had a refreshing Orange Julius to quench our thirsts. Afterwards, we window-shopped the jewelry stores and pointed out which engagement rings we wanted our imaginary boyfriends to buy us.
Suddenly, Olivia let out a little squeal. Rushing to her side to assure myself that she was all right, I saw it out of the corner of my eye. Olivia had found the perfect gift for Max – a sterling silver ID bracelet. We rushed inside the jewelry store and quickly rushed back out when we heard that the price was sixty-seven dollars. I felt deflated, but I didn’t have twenty dollars, much less sixty-seven.
“Let’s look around for other stores that have jewelry. Maybe we can find something cheaper.” Olivia was always full of good advice.
We visited all the jewelry stores first, and then we tried the department stores. The cheapest bracelet we found was in National Jewelers, and the price was still forty-seven dollars. Just as I was about to give up, Olivia remembered that there was a Montgomery Wards just across the street from the mall. I pinned all my hopes on that store, and we headed over there.
We headed straight to the jewelry department. I saw a young man shifting jewelry pieces around inside the jewelry counter, and there was an old woman standing next to him. He was quite handsome – jet black hair, blue eyes, and a firm jaw – but his immaculate suit and matching tie intimidated me. I guessed that he was some sort of manager and that he’d try to get rid of a kid that probably had no money. On the other hand, the woman was wearing a slightly wrinkled flowered dress, and her glasses were hanging around her neck so she wouldn’t misplace them. From these shortcomings, I promptly inferred that she was not perfect and that helped to put me at ease. Her frosty white hair and plump face gave her a pleasant look, and she smiled brightly as I walked up to her.
“I’m looking for ID bracelets,” I told her.
“What? Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t work here. This nice young man was just showing me some watches.” Great. The old bat was passing me off to the shark.
“I’ll be right with you,” he said. “The bracelets are in that case to your right.”
Olivia and I stepped in front of the case and started browsing. In a few moments, the man came over. He opened the case and pulled out a tray of ID bracelets. Some were silver; some were gold. All of them looked expensive.
“I might as well tell you that we’ve only got twelve dollars,” Olivia said to him.
He quickly returned the tray to the case. Directing us down an aisle opposite the counter, he said. “You might find something down there. There are some leather bracelets with names and designs on them. They are more in your price range.”
I headed down the aisle to have a look. The bracelets were not exactly what I wanted, and none of them had Max’s name.
Olivia was still up by the counter. She turned towards me and said, “Well, do you like them?” I shook my head. “Come here and take a look,” she said.
I joined her at the counter and she was pointing at some key rings. “What about one of those? You could get Max’s name engraved on one. Or your name.”
“I don’t need a key ring,” I said tediously.
“You are so dense sometimes,” she responded. “I meant give him a key ring with your name on it. Look, there’s a heart-shaped one…”
“I really don’t think Max would carry a heart-shaped key ring.”
“He probably won’t carry any key ring that you give him, but so what?”
I was starting to wonder why I had friends at all. Every one of them made cracks about my chances with Max.
I asked the man behind the counter to let me see the heart-shaped key ring. It was gold-plated, but it wasn’t too bad. “Can you engrave it?” I asked.
“We have someone who can. Let me locate him.”
An hour later, Olivia and I were on the bus and headed home. The key ring looked very nice in its little gift box. Max’s name was on the front and mine was on the other side. He would love it, I was certain. If he didn’t, I would die.
At home, I began doubting myself. I kept envisioning the moment that I would give Max his gift. One scenario had him showing the key ring to all his friends. Most of the time, however, I pictured him throwing the thing at me. By the next morning, I was questioning whether I should give it to him at all.
I finally decided that I would let Alice deliver the gift to him. Then, if he didn’t want it, he couldn’t throw it at me at least. He would either have to keep it, or he could throw it in the trash. Hopefully, he wouldn’t throw it at Alice. No matter what he did, it wouldn’t embarrass me. It was a great plan.
Monday morning, I told Alice. She was very agreeable and even willing to do it that day. I told her that Friday would be the day – then I wouldn’t see him again until after Christmas. In the meantime, I planned to compose a letter to go along with the gift – sort of explain why I was giving it to him. I started on it right after homeroom.
Four days and ten pages later, I tried to stuff the letter and the key ring into a business-sized envelope. I finally succeeded with the help of some Scotch tape. Luckily, I had written Max’s name on the outside before I filled the envelope. I didn’t want my envelope getting mixed up with someone else’s.
As the lunch bell rang, I presented the envelope to Alice. We walked out to the lunchroom together, and then we parted. I joined Olivia and Aurelia at our favorite bench, and we pretended that it was a normal day.
In a few minutes, Max appeared from the side of the cafeteria. He looked great in my favorite pair of tight black pants – the ones that emphasized his round perfect little butt – and shiny black platform shoes. His black hair fanned out on the back of his blue jean jacket and set my heart thumping. He walked past – totally ignoring me – and went into the cafeteria. Alice followed him inside.
Alice reappeared in three minutes, although it seemed more like three hours. She motioned for me to come over, and I rushed to where she was standing.
“D…d…did you do it?” I couldn’t believe how nervous I was.
“I am Alice Lawson...Of course I gave it to him. What’d you expect?” Alice was the epitome of smug.
“Well...What did he say?” Would I have to drag every detail out of her?
“Say? Um – well, he said, ‘Thank you.’”
“Is that all? What did you say?” Every inch of my body was tingling. My nerves were shattering.
“Before he said, ‘Thank you,’ I said, ‘This is from Katrina.’ He took it. He didn’t even say, ‘Katrina Who?’ He just said, ‘Thank you.’”
“Then what?”
“He started opening it, and I left.”
“That’s all? You didn’t wait to see if he liked it?”
“Look, Kat – cool it! You said give it to him. You didn’t say anything about watching his every move. If you want to know if he liked it, y
ou’re gonna have to ask him yourself.” Alice walked away.
I turned to go back over to Olivia and Aurelia, and Max was coming out of the lunchroom. I didn’t see the key ring, but the letter was in his hand. He gave me an amused look, and then he sat on a wooden bench. He held the letter in front of him and began reading it. I swallowed my heart as I walked past him to my friends. When lunch was over, Max was still sitting there reading the letter. He didn’t look up or anything as Olivia, Aurelia, and I walked past. Perhaps I had made an impression – maybe he would speak to me on the bus that afternoon.
I nervously anticipated the bus ride home. Part of me wanted him to talk to me; the other part of me wanted to vanish off the face of the earth. I had confessed all my love for Max in that letter, and I had no way of knowing if that impressed or repelled him.
My stomach did a whole gymnastics routine as I trudged towards the bus. I felt like a prisoner walking his last mile. I stopped in front of the bus door and took a deep breath. One step up, two steps up, three steps up. I saw that the bus was empty; I had my choice of seats. I sat down in the front seat, and then decided the middle of the bus might afford me more protection. If Max wanted to talk, it was more obscure. If Max wanted to yell, I could slip down unnoticed in my seat. If he wasn’t really hunting me, I’d blend in with everyone else. I quickly moved to the safe harbor of the midpoint region.
The bus began filling up immediately, and time seemed to speed past at an alarming rate. Soon, Mrs. Decker was closing the bus doors and driving away from school. Max was not on board. I didn’t know whether to feel relief or pain. I just knew that Christmas vacation was starting, and I wouldn’t see Max again for two weeks. The teenage years are full of angst.
Chapter 7
Brad was snoring loudly, so I slipped on my shoes and sneaked out his front door. He didn’t mean to be rude; the beer did him in. We might finish our talk sometime, but it wasn’t important. Brad and I would always be friends, and we didn’t need Max to ensure that.
As I drove home from Brad’s I thought about my life – past and present. I had been talking about Max a good bit in the past few days, and it felt good to remember the crazy things I did in school. Friends like Olivia and Aurelia shared many of my experiences, but other things were mine alone.
Some things I could never tell anyone. Most of my friends thought I was insane to carry a torch for twenty-four years, and maybe they were right – but I don’t think so. Those people were realists – people who accept that life is not romantic and that dreams usually don’t come true. These friends couldn’t understand my kind – the hopeless romantic that believes in destiny and true love, adventure and dreams-come-true. With these friends, I could never convince them that I hadn’t wasted my life.
I pulled into the parking lot next to my apartment building. The moon was full and bright as I climbed out of my champagne-colored Accord. I leaned against the car and stared up into the sky hoping to spot a star. Even at thirty-seven, I still wished on stars. The moon was a little too bright – or the stars were hiding – so I gave up my search and wandered back to my apartment.
My old yearbook was still lying on the coffee table. I flipped it open to the back cover and then turned one page back. The page was empty except for one line and a signature. Max Savage. I thought about the days that I had spent saving that page just for him. Olivia never believed that I would ask him to sign it. Aurelia wanted to believe, but, in the end, she doubted me, too. Still, the signature was there – the proof that I overcame my fears and finally approached Max on my own.
I turned to Max’s photo and stared at it for a long time. Then I lay back on my overstuffed couch and flipped through the book – always returning to Max’s photo – just like in high school. I pulled the book up to my chest and folded my arms over it. The memories were flooding my mind, and I gladly opened the dam...
Chapter 8
The year was almost over. I was going to be a sophomore soon, and Max would be a senior. It had been a long year, but I hated for it to end.
After Christmas vacation, Max was riding the bus again. He never mentioned the key ring or the letter. It was almost a relief. I decided that I had moved way too fast.
In the ensuing months, I discovered that Max wasn’t the only love of my life. I became acquainted with the music of Elton John, and I fell hopelessly in love with him. It wasn’t the same love I felt for Max, but it was love just the same. My room soon became a shrine to Elton: posters on the wall, albums on the shelves, and scrapbooks devoted entirely to him. I also became a walking Elton John encyclopedia, and my wardrobe also reflected my adoration. Elton and Max would both prove to be a lasting part of my life.
During this time, most of my encounters with Max were minor. One of the more prominent stories involved the school bus and Tracy. It was one of those rare occasions when Max sat down beside me on the bus. Tracy decided to announce this to the whole bus. Max told her to sit down; Travis yelled for her to shut up. She did neither. Max finally stood up and told her that he didn’t hit girls, but she might be the exception. Travis rushed over and said he wouldn’t mind hitting her one bit. I held back a giggle as Travis offered to hit Tracy for Max. Max just clenched his fists and returned to his seat next to me. Tracy stuck her tongue out at Travis, and the bus ride continued. At our stop, Max stepped back and let me go ahead, but when Tracy tried to go, he pushed past her. She then tried to tease me as we walked home, but Travis intervened. It was clear that Travis liked me, but he wasn’t pushing the issue. Max’s thoughts were anything but clear.
The day we got our yearbooks, I immediately reserved a page for Max to sign. I told Olivia and Aurelia that I was going to get his signature right away, before anyone could mess up that page. Soon, my book started filling up with signatures, but Max’s page remained blank. Every time I thought I would ask him, I would either chicken out or something would get in the way. Mostly, I chickened out.
A week – and then two – passed without me approaching Max. Olivia gave up on me, and Aurelia stopped talking about it. Finally, I broke down and let Olivia ask him to sign it. Imagine my reaction when he refused. He told her that I would have to ask him.
Then one day while he was standing alone at lunch, I mustered up all of my courage and asked him to sign on that special page. He was very polite to me as he took the book out of my hand. It took only a moment for him to sign it, and then he closed it and handed it back. I waited until he couldn’t see me before I opened it up and read the inscription.
“To a very nice girl. Hope you’ve had a good year. Max Savage.’77.”
He called me a nice girl! Nothing could ever take that moment away. He liked me – I just knew it. Now I just had to pursue him a little harder.
Summer. Magnificent summer. And at fourteen, I ruled the world – cruising around on my ten speed bike hoping to get a glimpse of Max now and again.
Then, suddenly, everything in my life changed. My wonderful daddy’s lungs collapsed. Daddy had lived with emphysema for over fifteen years, but I had never seen him hospitalized before. Thirty-seven years of smoking was finally taking its toll. The doctors were able to save my father, but they sadly told my mother that he had only six months to live.
My brother Rick – on emergency leave from the Navy – flew in from Memphis with his wife Rebecca and their three year old daughter Bridgett. My mother moved into my bedroom, and our two bedroom house was getting very cramped. To complicate things, Mom and Rebecca didn’t get along at all, Bridgett was a spoiled rotten brat, and Rick took every opportunity to get away from home. So did I.
After four weeks, Daddy was well enough to go home, but he would have to give up his job. For a man of forty-seven, this was a grim prospect. Nevertheless, Daddy took the news like a trooper, and he was soon cutting up and acting like his old self. Mom, however, was becoming despondent and worried. She knew that her four dollar an hour job couldn’t sustain a family of three.
To further dampen Mom’s spirit
s, Rick and Rebecca offered their own brand of help. Rick was due for sea duty in a little over a month, and Rebecca wanted to stay with us to help with Daddy. She would be receiving an allotment check each month that she would use to help with our budget. The kicker was that the offer wasn’t really an offer. Rick and Rebecca had already given up their apartment in Memphis, and Rebecca had nowhere to go – except our house. Out of concern for little Bridgett, Mom agreed to the situation.
Rick stayed for three more days. Just before he left, he and Rebecca had another announcement. Rebecca was six weeks pregnant. As we drove Rick to the airport, everyone was silent. Mom loved Rick too much to be angry with him, but she was livid with Rebecca. All of us were aware of this, and we thought it was best to stay quiet. Mom was crying as Rick waved goodbye. I couldn’t help wondering if she was sad because he was leaving or because he was leaving Rebecca.
By this time, we were well into July. In only four weeks, I’d be back in school. My summer was evaporating. I hadn’t seen Max once.
One afternoon, I was playing tennis with the garage door and listening to the radio when Bridgett wandered outside. I wasn’t much on kids, but Bridgett was a cutie. Her hair was long and chestnut brown, and she had big bright blue eyes. Rebecca always dressed her in coveralls and tiny blue tennis shoes. She looked like a living doll.
“Are you lissnen to Lten John?”
“Not right now. The radio plays all kinds of songs by lots of people.”
“Lten John’s my favrit.” I taught her that, of course. Then she burst into song, “Don’ go breakin’ my heart...Don’ go breakin’ my...I won’ go breakin’ yer heart...”
“You like that song, don’t you?” I was very proud of my niece.
“Play it for Bridgett! Play ‘Don’ Go Breakin’ My Heart.’ Please Aunt Kat.”
“Okay. Let’s go inside.”
I took hold of Bridgett’s tiny hand and led her into the house. Rebecca was sitting on the couch with a glass of Pepsi in one hand and a sandwich in the other. She was watching “All My Children” on TV. Her stringy long blond hair was half covering her face, but I could still see the blue eye shadow smeared over her eyes. The clumped mascara on her eyelashes looked like tarantula legs. She had a small pink mouth molded perfectly into a permanent pout, and her round nose had a dimple on the end of it. Thankfully, Bridgett got her looks from her father.
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