Suddenly she thought about Marvin, and her heart sank. How could she tell Allan what had happened? But she needed to talk about her rejection. She knew she could not tell him that Marvin had not come through in the crisis. But he would. Marvin loves me, she told herself. She would give him time.
“I just hope the lunch you offering is worth staying here for,” Allan said as he plopped down beside her.
Emma divided the sandwiches and gave Allan an apple. “I bet if you were free to come and go as you pleased, staying here wouldn’t seem bad at all. Allan, how could you choose this school, anyway?”
“First things first.” He bit into a sandwich. “Did the bid come?”
“They’re out. But I didn’t get one.” Emma was surprised at the ease in which she said those words. No choking up.
“Don’t kid around, woman.”
“I’m not kidding.”
“What happened?”
“It seems as if Manning is not as well thought of in some circles as it is by you.”
“Manning is fine if you don’t want things like being a debutante with the Golden Slippers. Why did you come here?”
“I didn’t choose to come. I lost my cool.” She felt an uncontrollable anger. “And if I could damn that teacher to hell’s fire now, I’d feel much better.”
“Teacher trouble, eh?”
“Yeah, a Ms. Simmons. Oh, Allan, she pretended to like me so much. And maybe she did, in her way. I know I didn’t dislike her. She always seemed amazed, surprised that I’m me. So she chose me as her thing. She was really about undoing me so she could do me up the way she wanted me to be. Always pushing, pushing, pushing. She and the girl’s V.P., always making me out to be different from other Blacks. It finally got to me and I ended up here.”
“Then you get here and find this school is no place to be part of the upper crust even when you are the upper crust.”
“Why? Why are girls from here not debs?”
“Maybe the girls here don’t ask to be.”
“You don’t ask, Allan, you’re chosen.”
“Maybe for the same reasons that Golden Slipper debs aren’t Rose Bowl queens.” Allan laughed.
“Aw, Allan, stop clowning.”
“Looks like the same reason to me—Manning girls are different from Golden Slippers girls.…”
“And Golden Slippers girls are different from Rose Bowl queens.” Emma mimicked him, exasperated. “I just think it’s stupid. There are some nice girls here.”
“Nice, good, bad has nothing to do with it. If it did, then the rules could be flexible, for those terms are relative, Emma.”
“I guess it’s as my father said. ‘If you want to be considered by people with class, you have to measure up.’”
“Yes, you have to be just like them.”
“This is a crazy world. I’m really confused. Come on, Allan, tell me. You’re a smart dude, well read, a National Honor student. You could have chosen any school in the city—and you come here. Why? I want to know, why?”
“I no longer thought the opportunity transfer an opportunity. I’ve bused since I was in the second grade and all those years they tried to make me out to be different.”
“But you are different.”
“So are we all. And we are all alike in certain ways, too. What bothers me is that the ways we are different are always out front there to make some of us feel bad about ourselves and others feel great about themselves. I was always told how different I was from other Blacks.…”
“Yeah,” Emma said, thinking about Ms. Simmons. “The hall walkers, the riffraff.”
“Exactly. But I kept seeing how different I am from whites. They’d tell all kinds of jokes about us, right in front of me; play horrible games; and, yet, you could almost swear they meant to be friendly.”
Allan went on to tell Emma about the time when he was in the second grade—the only Black in the class. The teacher had them all record their voices on a tape. When it was Allan’s turn, the teacher changed the speed, creating a sound like Donald Duck. “Everybody cracked up,” Allan said. “It blew my mind. I didn’t know anything about tape recorders and speed change. I thought that was me.”
Emma laughed. “What did you think when he gave you another chance?”
“He didn’t. I was left believing I sounded like that.”
“Oh, Allan.” Emma felt the hurt, too, as she remembered an incident at Marlborough. “Something similar happened to me in an honors science class. I was the only Black. I gave a report on Dr. Charles Drew.”
“The one who first preserved blood plasma and organized the first blood bank.”
“Yeah. When I finished my report, a boy in the class, real smart—nicknamed Eieny—for you know who. Anyway, he said, ‘If this Dr. Drew had done something like that, especially during World War II with all those wounded people, his name would be a household word. Who in here ever heard of him? Who? Nobody.’ Then he asked the teacher, ‘You ever heard of this Dr. Drew?’ Allan, that teacher gave me this look and called for the next report. Then everybody looked at me as if I had made all of that up.”
“Did the teacher ever bring it up again after he did his homework?”
“Not while I was in there.” They were silent. Finally Emma said, “Is that why you came back to Manning?”
“It’s not that simple. Out there I was chosen. Here I can choose.”
“What’s wrong with being chosen?” Emma demanded. “I wanted to be chosen by the Golden Slippers.”
“And you were turned down, too.” He saw the hurt look in her face and quickly said, “To want to be chosen is all right. But I’ve learned that inherent in being chosen is that possibility of being rejected for reasons you can’t do anything about. You’re at the mercy of the choice makers. They usually want you to do things that mean the most to them, not to you. I like science, love music, I’m good in math, but they were trying to jam me into accounting.”
Was Allan trying to tell her that those things so hard to verify, which had caused so much frustration at Marlborough, were actually designed to limit her and her friends? Suddenly she realized that though she was never actually denied membership in the Science Club, she was unable to find out the requirements and never knew when and where meetings were held. When she inquired about the Foreign Language Club, she was urged to join the well-integrated Glee Club. How had Allan become so aware? she wondered.
“Now here at Manning,” Allan continued, “I can be a part of almost anything that exists; and if I want something that doesn’t exist, I can put things in motion to make it happen.”
“You believe that, Allan?”
“Well, the possibility, yes. And, too, those people out there were not a real part of my life. Out of the people here will come some of my lifelong friends; but beyond all that, Emma, here I can relax and just be myself.”
Emma smiled, thinking of how she had felt just that morning—a little scared, but certainly not intimidated the way she had felt at Marlborough. Still, she was not sure. “Are you happy, Allan? Here, I mean.”
“Happy? Well, sometimes, yes. Sometimes, no. But I can say I’m more at ease than I am diseased. I was really in a state of disease out there.” He laughed. “Get it? Not myself at all.”
This is his last year in this place. Where will he go from here? she wondered.
As if he were reading her thoughts, Allan said, “I believe that being out there in elementary and junior high, and back here in high school, will put me in good shape to go to any college, especially a mixed one. I know who I am.”
Emma wished she were as self-confident as Allan. She was still confused, wishing at times she were back at Marlborough. She thought of Marvin and of her other friends. “You came to your friends, Allan. I left mine. It’s not easy here. Seniors are satisfied with their cliques, and there is little time for, and less interest in, newcomers.” She fought to keep back the tears.
“It’s not that bad. Ole Marv will be around, I’m sure.�
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“Don’t bet on it.” She suddenly wished she had not said that. She still didn’t want Allan to know Marvin had not come through in the crisis.
“I’ll bet on him and your other friends, too.” He took her hand in both of his. “You’re an OK lady, Em.”
“My friends are all right. Say, one of them who saw you at the game was so impressed she wants you to come to a party during the winter break. Her name is Cheryl. She’s dying for you to come.”
“I accept. So keep her alive until after the party, OK?”
Emma sat letting him hold her hand, thinking about all he had said. The old pain of rejection returned. She couldn’t finish her lunch. She handed him her sandwich and brownie.
“The lunch was worth staying for.” He looked at her, grinned, and released her hand.
A roar went up from the crowd. The sea gulls winged in on time to feed. Allan protected his sandwich and brownie, but Eoil Can was not in the squad.
“I know the odds are great against it, Emma, but I hope you’ll learn to like here.”
“With your friendship, I’m sure that even if this coming semester does not make me, it certainly will not break me; and with your promise to come to the party, I can now look forward to the holiday.”
Eleven
The traffic and the rush were terrific, but not unusual for the holiday season. People on the bus were loaded down with packages, folded baby strollers, and large transistors. Old ladies wrapped in furs and fake pearls got on and off slowly. Going where? Emma wondered as she mentally urged the bus driver on. The driver seemed in no hurry, oblivious of her need to make it to her father’s office before he left at four o’clock.
It was now a little after three o’clock. Besides the snarled traffic, the driver seemed deliberately to miss every light. In a holiday mood, he flirted with the old ladies, making them blush and bloom.
Emma sat by the window hardly able to keep from laughing at the driver’s banter. Suddenly she thought of Marvin and was again plunged into gloom. How could he have done what he did without letting her know? Could that be why he hadn’t called since the winter vacation began? She could hear Dee now: “… and Marvin was there.”
Dee had come by early that morning, on her way to the hairdresser, to show Emma copies of her pictures that would be included in the souvenir book of the ball. Pictures of all the girls, their escorts, and members of the Golden Slippers would also be included, along with congratulatory remarks from leading professional and business people.
Dee brought Emma up to date. The past weeks had been spent in a whirlwind of social events and business of the ball: picture taking, dress fittings, shopping, rehearsals. There had been receptions, teas, news conferences. Dee went on and on, especially animated over the party Melanie’s mother had given for the girls and their escorts. “Marvin was there,” she said.
“Marvin? What was Marvin doing there?” Emma demanded.
Dee tried to soften the blow, “Oh, Emma, I thought you knew. Marvin’s taking Melanie tonight.”
“Melanie?” Emma let out a strange laugh, trying to disguise the deep hurt, but she could not pull it off. “I don’t believe that! Marvin wouldn’t do such a thing.” Surely he would have told her himself. He wouldn’t let her hear it through the grapevine. She could forgive Marvin anything but that. Finally, she said, “Well!”
“Exactly what I said when I saw him there. Everybody’s mad at him and Melanie. But, you know Melanie. She’ll do anything for attention.”
“I know Marvin.”
“Emma, did you get my invitation to the ball?”
“Yeah. For me and Mama.”
“Are you coming?”
“You kidding?”
“Aw, come,” Dee pleaded. “I want you there. We all want you.”
“Who would I come with?” Emma laughed.
“That’s why we’re so mad at Marvin. And especially at Melanie. Acting as though Marvin’s her steady, when all he wants is to be an escort. He knew all the time you’d be an invited guest.”
Emma listened, hardly able to control the anger that moved to hurt, to humiliation, to sorrow as Dee continued to pour out news and gossip. Emma feigned enthusiasm, but she was glad when Dee left. She rushed to the phone and angrily dialed Marvin. There was no answer. She suddenly knew she could not stand the pressure. She would go see her father and ask him to, please, let her go away.
Now as she got off the bus to walk the short distance to the office, she was glad Marvin had not answered. Although the ball was that evening, he still had time to let her know he was escorting Melanie. But would he? She remembered his words: “I intend to go, with, or without, you.” Suddenly she had to swallow hard to fight back the tears.
She was just in time. Her father was in the parking lot walking toward his car when she hailed him.
“Well, what a surprise. How’d you get here?”
“On the bus. I’m glad I caught you, Daddy. I need to talk to you.” She was pleased that he was apparently glad to see her. She was a bit self-conscious and doubtful. Her heart began to pound as it did when she confronted her father alone. She was not often alone with him these days.
“What’s up?” He looked at her and smiled.
She averted her eyes. “I was wondering, Daddy. I need to get away for the holidays, like … go someplace else.”
“Like where, Emma?”
“Like Hawaii. Mexico.”
“Tijuana?” He laughed.
“Oh, no, Daddy. Mazatlán or Mexico City.”
“Alone?” he asked, surprised.
Emma suddenly realized she had not thought this through. She had been prompted by anxiety. “Mother would probably go,” she said, hoping to retrieve the initiative.
His face tightened. “You’ve discussed this with your mother?”
Surprised by his displeasure, Emma quickly said, “Oh, no. I thought we could surprise her. It could be a Christmas present from us.” She looked at her father and could not understand what she sensed was anger.
“I’ll have to talk to your mother about this. Get in, I’ll take you home.”
She settled in the car, now worried. What would her mother say? Would her mother be able to take off from work for such a trip? She looked at her father, whose jaw was still set, his eyes on the road, his fingers tightly clutching the wheel.
“That’s a lot of money,” he said, almost as though he were talking to himself.
Emma became angry. Everything she wanted was too much money. “Probably no more than the ball. Maybe not as much,” she said, surprised at the tone of her voice.
“What has that to do with it?”
“You promised to take care of that. Why can’t we have that money?”
“Because I have other plans for that money.”
Her anger increased. She sat looking straight ahead as he maneuvered through the heavy traffic. Finally she glanced at him. She wanted to ask if he loved her. Why didn’t he see she needed his help? She wanted to shout at him, You promised, and that money should be there to get me away from all of this.
As though he were reading her thoughts, her father said, “When you weren’t accepted, I made other plans. Your mother—”
“But you promised …” she cried and said no more. Suddenly she realized the car had stopped. She was home. Her father followed her up the walk into the house.
“Emma, is that you?” Her mother came into the hallway, and seeing Emma’s father, she said, “I didn’t know you were with her, Larry. Can I fix you a drink?”
“No. I want to know why you let Emma think she could go away when I told you I had made some plans when she was no longer considered a deb?” her father asked angrily.
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about Emma demanding the money I promised for her debut so that you and she can go away, that’s what. I asked you to arrange for us to exchange gifts early because Jody and I are going away. And now Emma gets this idea. I don’t
like that kind of double-dealing, Janet.”
Emma realized now why her father had become angry. He thought her asking had been prompted by her mother. She was about to speak when her mother spoke up.
“I resent your thinking that I would put Emma up to ask you for anything. I wouldn’t expose her to being hurt like that by you.”
“What you mean, hurt by me?” her father demanded.
“You listen.” Her mother was amazingly calm. “I have never criticized you to Emma behind your back. I have always tried to agree with you when I knew Emma was around. You know why? Because Emma needs your love. She needs to love you, you’re her father. And I wanted her to think she had your love.”
“Are you trying to pretend I don’t love Emma?”
“No. These past few days have taught me that Emma has a lot going for her. She has come through this ‘putdown’ pretty gracefully. So I’m saying to you, that from now on, you’re on your own with Emma. Emma can decide whether or not you love her.”
Emma was surprised. Was her mother suddenly seeing her as a woman, not as a child anymore?
“And I want you to know, there comes a time, Larry, when the parent becomes the child. You gonna need Emma’s love. And if you haven’t cultivated it, it won’t be there for you. Now, I’ve worked hard today. I’m tired. I haven’t even had time to tell Emma that because you will be on the high seas by Christmas, we will exchange gifts with you the day after tomorrow. But I’ll get around to that. Right now, all I want you to do is leave my house. Leave me and Emma alone.”
Emma saw the look on her father’s face and she knew she loved him, wanted to erase the hurt. She started toward him, then looked at her mother. She knew she could not go to him and leave her mother alone, looking devastated, too. She wanted to hold them, bring them together, let them know she needed them both. Her father strode from the room and Emma realized she had forever lost the chance to bring them together again. She rushed to her room and let the tears, pent-up for years, flow. She was crying for her father, her mother, and for Marvin.
Because We Are Page 7
