by R. D. Power
Kristen shied away from Robert for the next several days, too nervous to approach him. When they inadvertently met on the corner as she was walking her dog, he crossed the street to avoid her. She couldn’t stand the disquiet and decided to apologize.
“I just wanted to say—” she began.
“I never want to see you or your awful cousin again!” he interrupted, yelling to her across the street. “I’ve never been so humiliated in my life. I can’t believe how mean you two are.”
“I had no idea what she was planning.”
“Yeah, right. It was you who asked me to do it in front of everyone.”
“Jenny asked me to be the messenger, but she didn’t tell me what she was going to say. I’m as angry with her as you are.”
“You’re not a laughingstock, are you? I don’t want anything to do with either of you ever again!” he declared as he walked away. It would take him a long time to get over the Taylor treachery; a distrust and wariness epitomized his relationship with both girls for years.
Above all else, Robert was insecure. He’d had his life ripped away from him at age eight. Never again would he love anyone, he’d decided then; he couldn’t face the torture of losing love again. Moreover, all his experience since then had taught him to trust no one. But along came the perfect girl, and those vows went out the window. He even fantasized about being married to her. Learning to love and trust again had been a crucial breakthrough for the young man, but her despicable deed shattered that, exacerbating the deep psychological damage caused by the loss of his family, and crippling his ability to form close relationships. He made some solemn resolutions to himself: never trust anyone again; never commit to any girl; and, most importantly, never fall in love! No one will ever again break my heart, he promised himself. His adamant refusal to commit and fall in love would affect both girls for years to come.
Jennifer’s picture was gone from his trunk. He’d torn it up and tossed it out, and put his mother’s picture back where it belonged, and the frame back into his trunk along with the remaining remnants of his dead family.
Kristen decided to give up on him. She had plenty going on in her life and wasn’t interested in boys yet. Months passed without any interaction between Kristen and Robert, save a sneer when their eyes happened to meet.
In the meantime, puberty was putting its finishing touches on these two teens. Robert emerged from the awkward stage a tall, well-built boy with a face that was appealing. Kristen turned out comely as well, but her real beauty was inside. As she matured, a natural elegance and allure emerged that seemed to suffuse her entire being. A presence that shone through in her delightful voice as she spoke, in her sprightly step as she walked, in her lambent eyes as she laughed, in the way she turned the pages in a book, in everything she did, compelled the admiration of both boys and girls.
Summer came again, and the Taylors went to their cottage. Jennifer spent all her time at the lake, basking in the sunshine, and in the admiration of every guy who caught sight of her. Jennifer Taylor in a bikini was diverting enough to elicit an involuntary gasp of wide-eyed amazement from any male between puberty and death. When she’d walk along the water’s edge, every male would stop whatever he was doing—playing Frisbee, eating, breathing, drowning, rescuing—and stare until she passed from view. They were constantly intruding themselves upon her only to be cast out with the rest of the flotsam. Only the most attractive would get anywhere with her, and “anywhere” never went beyond kissing.
One day, after Jennifer had already gone on a stroll with a good-looking guy, a foxy seventeen-year-old came a-courting Kristen. Never before had such a handsome boy been so interested in her. She gave him a warm reception, talking and touching on the sand until her father put his foot down close to his head. Dominic Solano was his name, of the Solano Jewelry chain, “the biggest in southern Ontario,” he boasted to Kristen. Actually, it was the fourth-largest, but who cares? Dominic, of dissolute disposition, had a turn for lying, and it’s nice to be good at something. He offered her an elegant gold chain, but she politely refused. Instead, the next pretty girl down the beach accepted it and him.
He’ll be back, starring as a key antagonist in our unfolding story.
Robert had a good summer, too. He was tearing up the house league in baseball for the Komoka-Kilworth squad. Robert should have been playing at the top minor baseball level, but he couldn’t afford the hefty entry fee. But the area’s best coach, who was always in search of talented players to poach, lured Robert away by waiving the fee, and offering proper coaching and a ride to the games and practices.
He learned a great deal over the balance of the summer, especially about pitching. The seventy-year-old coach, who’d been a pitching coach at the triple A level, taught him how to wind up properly, how to hold various types of pitches, and how to release them.
“You have to learn how to pitch as opposed to throw. To be successful, you have to be much more than a hard thrower. A good pitcher throws the ball hard, true, but he throws it exactly where he wants it, and he throws the right pitch at the right time. Develop a breaking ball, a lively fastball and a changeup. Mix the pitches, mix your speeds, and mix location, so the batter never knows what’s coming.”
Robert listened well and, by dint of diligence, began to develop his terrific potential.
Chapter Four
Meet Me at the Corner
Jennifer hadn’t given Robert much thought since the school bus incident—it was a mistake she preferred to forget—but as the bus rolled up to his stop on the first morning of the tenth grade school year, she did a double take when she saw him. Standing there in a body-hugging white shirt and tight black shorts—not that he would ever think of dressing to entice, he’d simply outgrown his clothes over the summer—he attracted the attention of several girls on the bus. Jennifer decided to try to win him back. There would be no rejection stage the second time.
Fortunately for Jennifer, Robert resumed his street hockey visits that autumn. “Why don’t you come in for a drink, Bobby?” Jennifer asked one October Saturday afternoon after the game ended. He disregarded her, walking past her toward his house. “What, are you afraid of me?” He kept walking.
Though continually disappointed, she didn’t give up. She would rollerblade occasionally for his benefit, but he didn’t seem to notice much. He had noticed, of course. Try as he might to hate her, she was just too exquisite to ignore for long.
Getting desperate for his attention, Jennifer went to Kristen’s house one Saturday afternoon in early November and pulled out all the stops rollerblading for him. Kristen had gone to the mall with a friend. Jennifer dressed in skin-tight black leather pants and a snug black sweater. The contrast with her golden tresses was arresting. Armed for the conquest, she skated near the boys playing hockey and glided close to Robert, her spellbinding eyes fixed on him, her disarming beatific smile disarming his resolve to ignore her. The game and everything else in the universe faded into irrelevance as he stood there entranced by her.
“Come on, Owens. Play the game!” said Jeremy, frustrated with his teammate standing around while the other team continued to play.
Robert squared for a slap shot. “He shoots … crap,” he announced as the ball sailed over the net and down the road where Jennifer was rollerblading, exactly where he wanted it. Jeremy yelled at her to throw the ball, but she paid no heed.
The ball came to rest on a sewer grate at the intersection. At this moment, Shaun Driscoll—that reckless teenage driver who, when he rocketed by, made all the parents in town think Where are my children!—hopped into his black half-ton truck and sped up Pioneer Drive. This was no trifling matter this day, for fate had contrived, or chance happened, to bring him and Jennifer to the same corner at the same instant.
Robert got to the ball as the truck turned the corner down the street with tires squealing. It raced up the street toward the intersection. Jennifer decided that she would execute a jump right beside him. As she drew
near, Robert stood staring at her, the ball at his feet. Lisa, who was sitting on the front step tittering at her niece’s devices, discerned something alarming out of the corner of her eye. While Jennifer accelerated in preparation for her jump, Lisa—who realized, That truck’s going to hit her!—screamed, “Jenny!” and swooned. At the same time, Robert took notice of the truck, which was speeding into the intersection.
Jennifer, who couldn’t see the truck because three large blue spruce trees blocked her view of it as she approached the intersection, commenced her leap. The driver saw the girl at the last instant, too late to avoid a collision! He veered and stomped on the brakes, the tires smoking and making an eerie screech. Jeremy and his friends looked on in horror. Without thinking, for there was no time, Robert jumped into Jennifer’s path, perhaps feeling subconsciously he’d have better luck stopping her than the truck, and the pair slammed together. Her momentum carried the two toward the truck, but they ended up in a heap a couple of feet from the back wheels of the truck that had come to a belated stop.
Seeing he missed the two, Shaun blared the horn before speeding off up the road.
The collision rendered Robert unconscious and left Jennifer dazed, with a broken right arm, which had borne the brunt of their fall to the ground. She was crying in pain, wondering what had happened.
Jeremy ran to help Jennifer and Robert. “Are you okay?” he asked Jennifer. She didn’t answer, and walked as if in a trance into the house, stepping over her prostrate aunt. Jeremy turned his attention to Robert who was only then coming to his senses.
“What happened?” he asked Jeremy as he struggled to sit up. He put his left hand to his aching head.
Jeremy helped him off the street, and sat him on the front lawn. “Jenny crashed into you. You jumped in her way. That truck would have hit her. You saved her life!” replied the overwrought boy.
In reality, she would have slammed into the windshield of the truck, severed her spine, broken eleven other bones, sustained four operations, and spent the rest of her life in a wheelchair—but Jeremy, not being favored with the omniscience of the narrator, could not have known that.
“Are you okay?” he asked, as he looked over to see his mother unconscious. “My mother must have fainted. I have to go check on her,” he said, as he ran to his mother’s assistance.
Lisa uttered another squeal as she revived. Her son helped to sit her up. “Jenny!” she shrieked. “Where is she? Is she dead? That truck must have hit her! Please, God, no!”
“She’s inside. She’s alive, but I think she’s hurt,” Jeremy answered. “Are you okay?” Lisa didn’t respond to his question, running instead into the house to check on her niece. Jeremy went back to assist Robert, accompanying him home because he looked woozy.
Jennifer was sitting on the couch, crying in pain and confused over what had occurred. Her aunt ran to her side, crying hysterically, “Oh, my God, are you all right? What happened? Oh, your arm! It’s broken! My poor baby.” She sat to hug her niece tenderly and said, “We have to go to the hospital right away to get your arm mended.”
Lisa called her husband and Jennifer’s mother on the way to the hospital, and they met them there. While the doctor was setting the young girl’s arm and preparing the cast, Lisa reflected on the incident. She winced, and her stomach plunged every time she replayed the horrifying scene in her mind.
“I thought for sure that truck would kill her. It’s a miracle she only has a broken arm,” she declared to her husband.
The miracle was lying in bed, nursing his many contusions and bumps. The collision had taken its toll on his hide, which had a great many more holes now than it did before. His mother the doctor would have checked for concussion, but her care had ceased when she succumbed to a bad case of airplane crash. It was at times like this he most missed his mother. He imagined her sitting next to him, kissing his forehead and treating his injuries with loving care. As it was, he tried in vain to find a position that minimized the pain enough for him to fall asleep. Elspeth brought him some aspirin, which helped, but not enough for sleep to take hold.
Lisa called home to check on Jeremy and Kristen, and apprise them of developments with Jennifer. Jeremy explained what happened to his mother over the phone. “He saved her life?” said Lisa.
“No question about it,” said her son. With that news, Jennifer and her mom accompanied the Taylor family to Kilworth to get the details from Jeremy.
“Do you realize what he did for you, honey?” Jennifer’s mother asked the astonished girl. It was all too much for Jennifer to take in then. She’d been given painkillers and just wanted to sleep. Her mother put her to bed. Kristen was surprised at her aunt’s reaction to the event. Kara Taylor never showed her daughter much love. Kristen considered her aunt coldhearted and knew Jennifer preferred her aunt to her mom. Jennifer had been heartbroken when her father left her home. Jim Taylor was a good, loving father and wanted custody of his daughter, but the court sided with the mother. When he took a job with a large advertising firm in New York, she went into a month-long depression.
The three Taylor adults went to Robert’s house to express their gratitude. Kristen went along to admire the hero of the day. When Robert came to the door, Kara, whom he’d never met, hugged him, and he yelped in pain. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. “Where are you hurt?”
He pointed to his right knee and said, “This is where it doesn’t hurt.”
“You saved my daughter’s life. Thank you!” she asseverated.
His left shoulder was still oozing blood, which was staining his shirt. Lisa offered to take him to the hospital, but he refused. “How is she?” Robert asked.
“She has a broken arm, but otherwise is fine.”
He nodded, but was too distracted to pay much attention.
“You saved my niece’s life,” proclaimed Bill. He didn’t know what to think of this boy anymore. He remained suspicious of him as a scalawag, but had to concede now that he had his good side.
For Lisa, his action confirmed her optimistic view of mankind: give a person a chance to shine and he will. “You probably can’t come close to conceiving what it means to a mother when someone saves her child’s life. We can never thank you enough, but we’ll start by inviting you to dinner at our home,” Lisa said.
“I’m pretty tired.”
“Tomorrow, I mean. What would you like to eat? I’ll make you whatever you want.”
“No thanks, Mrs. Taylor.” He didn’t know how to deal with the whole situation and sincerely wished it hadn’t happened, especially with so many nerves registering pain. Lisa wouldn’t take no for an answer, though, so he promised to come to roast beef dinner the next day.
•
Jennifer awoke with a scream that night; the enormity of the episode had finally struck her. She recalled with horror the baleful shriek of the tires, the excruciating snap as she and Robert landed on her arm, the truck wheels passing by her head as if in slow motion, the acrid smoke from the burning rubber, the shower of dust and pebbles that stung her face, and the distressing sight of Robert lying there unconscious as she sat up. Her mother, aunt, uncle, and cousin came in to console her.
“I’d be dead if it weren’t for him,” she averred trembling. Gone forever, she pondered. It’s a difficult concept to grasp. “I really hurt him. How is he?”
She got reassurance that he was okay. Kristen stayed with her for the rest of the night.
•
Dinner the next evening was awkward but delicious. Robert, unaccustomed to homemade meals, found that he was missing out. Jennifer kept staring at him and smiling. He found it hard to keep his eyes away from hers, but tried. Kristen kept staring at him and smiling, but he had no trouble discounting her. As soon as he could, he excused himself. Jennifer followed him outside to express her deep gratitude for saving her life.
Taking her in his arms, minding her broken arm, and looking straight into her eyes, he said, in a low voice, “Jenny.”
“Y
es?” she said hopefully, thinking he was going to kiss her.
“Forget it,” he continued in a brusque manner. Then he released her and was off. She interpreted his tone as “Forget me,” and went back into the house unhappy. He had stirred in her tender feelings more powerful than she’d ever experienced, and those feelings, she began to discover, could provoke pleasure or pain. Maybe he would never get over that incident on the bus.
Lisa invited him to her home for dinner every Saturday evening leading up to Christmas, and Jennifer was always there. It was Jennifer he began to warm to as the weeks passed, to Kristen’s growing dismay. At one Saturday dinner in mid-December, Lisa asked him to Christmas dinner.
“Oh, no, that’s a day for family. I’d be imposing,” he supposed.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Lisa. “You have to come. Do your foster parents do anything special for Christmas?”
“They go skiing for four days.”
“You spend Christmas all alone?” Kristen said.
He shrugged.
The Taylors looked at each other in consternation. “Do you get any gifts or anything?” asked Kristen, feeling terrible for him.
He looked down and said, “Don’t start feeling sorry for me. It’s embarrassing.”
“I won’t take no for an answer. You’ll spend Christmas with us,” announced Lisa.
Christmas with the Taylor family was a wonderful experience for Robert. Several grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins were there to celebrate the holiday. He sat and drank it all in: the love, the laughter, and spiked eggnog when people weren’t watching.
Jennifer was dressed in a short pink dress, with the aim of attracting Robert. It worked. He spent a good deal of time gazing at her, ignoring Kristen, who was garbed as usual in a sweater and slacks.
“Jenny, honey,” grandmother Taylor said, in front of Robert, “he’s a fine young man. You ought to claim him before someone else does.” Jennifer blushed and smiled. Kristen wondered why grandma thought Jennifer was a better match for him. She whispered that question to her grandmother. “Oh, I’m sorry, dear,” she replied. “It’s just that he can’t keep his eyes off of her. Boys always prefer pretty to smart.” That response didn’t make Kristen feel any better.
