The Watermark

by Travis Thrasher

  “That lady’s beautiful,” Nita told me as we walked toward her mother, who was waiting for us at the exit doors. “Is she a friend of yours?”

  “Not exactly,” I said, nodding in agreement with her first statement.

  How could I have missed such beauty the other night? What was I thinking?

  “Do you like her?”

  “I don’t even know her,” I replied, doubting I would have a chance to talk to her a third time, already knowing the first impressions had been made.

  “They were on a date, right?”

  I nodded. Enough said.

  Two days later, I sat in an empty row of the Covenant arts building, trying to act nonchalant and appear like I wasn’t looking for anyone. I wasn’t—not really. Yet I had still arrived thirty minutes early.

  I had asked Erik if he wanted to break his usual Friday night barhopping tradition to come watch a couple of movies with me. He had said maybe, which both of us knew meant no.

  Well, I’d tried. I knew there was more I needed to do, more I needed to say to him. I just needed time.

  And courage.

  Twenty minutes before the movies started, a tall, dark-haired girl walked down the aisle on my left side, arm in arm with what appeared to be her date for the evening. I wasn’t sure, but it looked like the Asian girl I had met here before.

  A wave of disappointment flowed through me. Stop being foolish, I told myself.

  Meanwhile, someone had slipped up on my right side. “Excuse me, is this seat taken?”

  I turned and faced the same person I had imagined to be rows in front of me with some muscle man in a leather jacket by her side. For a second I was surprised and said nothing; then I realized she was asking about the spot a seat away from mine.

  “No.”

  Amazing how a week ago, I had been bothered by her presence. Now I was almost relieved to see her again.

  “You sure?” she asked.

  “Go ahead.”

  “My friends are going to be late, as usual,” she announced as she sat down.

  I nodded and noticed I was sitting in one of the only open rows in the place. “Mine are coming in a bus,” I said, trying to be funny.

  “Really?”

  “No, just kidding.” My sense of humor was a little rusty.

  “So, we meet again,” she said.

  “Amazing,” I replied.

  “I’m beginning to think you’re following me.”

  I soaked up the full smile she gave me. “Hey, I was here first.”

  “Oh, that’s right. Well, maybe I’m following you.”

  “I’m a little worried, now that you mention it.”

  “So did you enjoy the Shedd Aquarium?” she asked me.

  “Sure. And you?”

  “Oh, it’s great. I’ve been there before, though. Matt hadn’t, and he wanted to go.”

  I nodded and said nothing. Matt. That was soccer boy’s name—Matt. I bet he was one of those guys who could dribble a soccer ball fifty times on his legs.

  “I guess I should be polite and introduce myself,” she said. “I’m Genevie Liu.”

  “Sheridan Blake.”

  “I like that name.”

  “Thanks. My parents must have too.”

  “Are you a student at Covenant? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you.”

  “Just my brother, right?” I asked, offering a slight grin.

  “That was years ago.”

  “I’m finishing up my senior year. I took a break from college.”

  “From Covenant?”

  “Yes.”

  “So it was you,” Genevie exclaimed.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Did you ever take a philosophy course with Dr. Rich? The short, bearded guy?”

  “You ask a lot of questions.”

  “I’m an inquisitive sort of person,” she said with a grin.

  “Actually, I think I did take that course.”

  “I was in your class. I knew that was you.”

  “Probably was. Sorry—I never did get into that class much. In fact, I don’t think I attended it much either.”

  “That was my freshman year at Covenant. I came from out of state.”

  “So you graduated a few years ago?”

  “Yes. I still work at the college, in admissions. I’m finishing my master’s work this semester.”

  I wanted to ask more, but several people arrived and sat with her. She casually shifted over one seat, sitting next to me. I was surprised but refrained from showing it. She introduced me to the group, including Matt. I was especially thrilled to make his acquaintance again.

  Before the movies started, Genevie whispered a question at me. “So why did you quit school?”

  “Another question, huh?”

  “Just curious.”

  “I had some growing up to do,” I told her.

  “We all have growing up to do,” she replied. “If you ask me, I never want to grow up.”

  I raised my eyebrows and said nothing more. Even though I looked straight ahead, I couldn’t get the image of Genevie’s deep brown eyes out of my head.

  “I had a farm in Africa,” the accented voice of Meryl Streep began as the film Out of Africa began to roll.

  The connecting theme between the two movies that night was Robert Redford, who starred in each of them. I had seen both movies before but enjoyed watching them again.

  “I’ve never seen this one,” Genevie whispered to me as the opening credits flashed across the screen.

  “Come on,” I whispered back in complete disbelief.

  “Seriously.”

  “What island did you grow up on? This is one of the all-time classics.”

  “Actually, they didn’t have movies where I grew up.”

  She looked serious and I instantly apologized, afraid I had insulted her heritage. “So where did you grow up?” I asked.

  “California,” she said, then giggled and kept watching the screen.

  During the movie we continued making small comments to each other. I wondered what Matt was thinking, but he seemed to not notice or care about Genevie’s talking to me. At one point he even got up and walked out. I wondered briefly if he was angry with her, then forgot about him completely as I lost myself in the movie.

  There’s a scene in the picture where the two main characters—Redford and Streep—fly in a small plane over the beautiful terrain of Africa. The cinematography hypnotized me, even after having seen it several times, and combined with the brilliant score by John Barry, the scene almost transcended the movie. It’s one of those moments when a film becomes something more, a moment that lingers in the vast recesses of memory for many years. In a poignant moment during that flight, Streep takes Redford’s hand.

  I watched the familiar scene and realized that my mind was somewhere else. I was thinking of the woman I’d just met and how much I wanted to talk more to her. What I would have given to simply reach out and take her hand as well. It sounds silly. Writing it down, it sounds childish. But I needed a soul mate. Not a dog who couldn’t hear his name when I called him or a roommate who went out drinking every weekend. I needed someone to talk to, to be with. Someone who could be a friend, or maybe even more.

  Someone like the striking and pleasant woman who sat next to me.

  I wondered if Genevie felt as strange as I did. There we were, sitting side by side, watching an extraordinary love story on the screen. And I didn’t know a thing about her.

  “How gorgeous,” Genevie leaned over to whisper to me.

  I glanced at her and nodded, agreeing with her as I studied her flawless complexion. Her skin looked smooth and babylike, her smile gentle yet subtly enticing, her eyes bright even in the semidarkness.

  I adjusted my own eyes to the front of the room, yet focused not on the screen but on the ceiling above.

  Barry’s moving score soared, as did the plane. I followed them in my own thoughts, amazed that I could ride the wave of the music, ana
lyze the orchestration, and be aware of the girl beside me, all at the same time.

  During the intermission between the movies, Genevie turned and announced that she had to leave. “It was nice to see you again, Sheridan Blake.”

  “Same here.”

  “Maybe next time we can chat longer, in a less crowded place.”

  “Uh, yeah, sure. That’d be good.” I felt like such an idiot. Had I really forgotten how to talk to a girl?

  “You a coffee drinker?” she asked.

  “Sure.”

  “The Barnes & Noble on Clark has a great café. I’m usually there most afternoons, studying and sipping coffee.”

  I nodded, not sure what to make of her comment. Her friends had already moved toward the aisle and seemed to be waiting for her.

  “Well, then. Good night,” she said, smiling gently as she stood and began to walk away.

  I wanted to say something more but knew I couldn’t.

  At least turn around again. Let me see those eyes one more time.

  Genevie didn’t let me down.

  October 17

  Dear Amy,

  It’s amazing what a simple smile can do to brighten up a day or even a week. Ever since I’ve come back to Covenant, I’ve been walking around avoiding almost everyone. Now I’m surprised to discover what a simple conversation with a friendly stranger can do.

  I wonder if praying could make the same sort of difference.

  They say God is all-knowing, all-loving, and all-powerful. What I don’t know is why that same God would continue to choose to love me. Does he? Does he truly love me?

  I know I should read the Bible, but to be honest, I’m afraid to find what it has to say. What will happen if I read it and only grow more cynical?

  I know I need to move on. God, please help me move on.

  Sheridan

  four

  A week had passed since I had heard from my phoning friend, Mike Larsen. Erik had obliged my request to let the machine screen all of our calls. He hadn’t pressured me as to why. Not yet.

  My fears were heightened one weeknight in mid-October, when we got a knock on our apartment door. I pictured Larsen tip-tapping on our door with a baseball bat, which he would proceed to use over my head.

  Erik got up off the couch to get the door. The knocking was unusual, since most visitors rang our buzzer from a monitor outside the locked front door.

  “Expecting visitors?” I asked Erik.

  “No,” he replied. “I’m going out pretty soon.”

  “That’s a surprise.”

  “Maybe Psycho is wanting to borrow some sugar,” Erik said with a laugh.

  Erik and I had nicknamed many of the inhabitants who lived around us. Erik had come up with Psycho for the guy down the hall because he looked like Anthony Perkins from the original Alfred Hitchcock movie. Sort of acted like him, too.

  Erik opened the door and found three strangers in their twenties, two guys and a girl. They asked if they could come in.

  “Well, sure,” Erik said, giving me an uh-oh look.

  As the three wandered into our apartment, I noticed that one of them was carrying a Bible. I instantly felt the dread creep over me. The other guy carried a small notebook.

  Red flags were beginning to go up all over the place.

  The strangers introduced themselves. Two of them were students at Covenant and were trying to get to know their classmates who lived off campus. The third guy worked at the college in the student development office. They had just finished visiting some other students in our apartment building and had decided to stop by our place—they had gotten Erik’s name and address from the college. None of the three seemed to have any idea I attended Covenant.

  Did I really look that old?

  “I’m Sheridan,” I offered in my most casual and friendly of voices. “Senior graduating in music.”

  The guy holding a Bible was Mark Everly, dark haired and good-looking in a homecoming king sort of way. He was the one working in student development. He was friendly in a phony, forced way. I knew I shouldn’t judge him, but I couldn’t help it. I wondered what was coming with the Bible he held.

  Actually, I knew what was coming.

  After my introduction, Mark studied me for a couple of seconds, seemingly lost in thought. “Are you guys currently going to a church?” Mark asked us after we had conversed a few minutes about school and living off campus.

  “No,” Erik blurted out. He didn’t seem too concerned about what they thought. He didn’t try to hide the beer bottle in his hand either.

  “I haven’t found a place yet,” I said. This was true. Of course, I wasn’t looking either.

  “Lissa and I go to the Bible Church on the corner of West and Randolph,” Mark said. “Joel goes to Covenant Reformed.”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard of that.”

  “Are either of you involved in any sort of college group?”

  “That’d be a big no again,” Erik said.

  “Not really,” I said, not sure why I offered up a “not really.”

  We spoke of churches for a while. Mark was the main talker, always being friendly and suggesting places we could go, places they went, and reasons for visiting the college groups at their churches. Lissa added bits and pieces. The guy named Joel was obviously new at this and had no idea what to say, so he remained quiet and stared at all of us like he was studying some sort of science project.

  Mark’s laid-back manner made him easy enough to talk to, and after being around him for fifteen minutes I recognized him from my earlier years at Covenant. I couldn’t place where, however. He seemed unfazed at Erik’s mocking tone. And he continued to look me over as though something was on the tip of his tongue and he was holding it back.

  “We also wanted to let you guys know that there are small groups that meet at school every Tuesday night. In the student center.”

  Erik laughed. “I’ve got my own small group. Meets on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

  “Where’s that?” Lissa, a short redheaded girl with a big grin, asked.

  “Joey O’Douls,” Erik replied.

  Joey O’Douls was one of the local college hangouts located a few blocks away from our apartment.

  The others understood Erik’s remark, but nobody except Mark said anything—and what he said had nothing to do with Joey O’Douls. “You may want to check out one of our small groups.” He spoke mainly to me. “It’s a great way of meeting other people at school, especially when you live off campus.”

  I nodded, appearing interested.

  “Any cute girls in them?”

  “You might be surprised,” Mark replied to my roommate.

  “Oh, I bet I would.” Erik laughed.

  We had another few minutes of small talk before Mark had his revelation and exclaimed in surprise. “You’re Sheridan Blake, right?”

  I nodded.

  “Wow,” Mark replied. “You don’t recognize me, do you?”

  Everyone looked at me as I shook my head.

  “I was your RA at the dorm your junior year. Mark Everly.”

  Bits and pieces of recollection came back to me. “Oh, yeah.”

  “Sheridan Blake,” he said again, as though the name were legendary.

  “You knew him years ago?” Erik asked, suddenly interested.

  “Well, not all that well. But sure. I can’t believe I didn’t know you were back.”

  “I’m not advertising it,” I said. “A lot of the people I knew are gone now.”

  “Still playing the piano?” Mark asked.

  I nodded and forced a smile.

  “And how are you doing with, uh, everything?”

  Mark obviously knew my history. That made sense since he had probably been living on campus during the summer it happened. Thank God most of the student body had been gone.

  “Fine. Trying to move on with life.”

  “A lot of people were praying for you.” Mark stared at me, waiting for my response and confession.<
br />
  I instantly felt a wave of cold anger grip me. “Oh, really? A lot being who?”

  “Well, profs and faculty at Covenant.”

  “That’s truly touching. But I guess not enough people were praying.”

  “I just meant—”

  “Look, thanks for the visit,” I said. “I think we’re done here.”

  “I’m sorry, Sheridan. I didn’t mean anything by that.”

  “Good night,” I said as I opened the door to our apartment and showed them the way out.

  As Mark passed by, he handed me a piece of paper with his number at the college on it. “I hope to see you guys around,” he said, looking at me. “I’ll be thinking of you.”

  I nodded and said nothing more.

  The door shut and Erik returned to the couch, where he had been watching ESPN. “So you knew Mark?” he asked, picking up the remote control.

  “I barely remember him. To me, those guys were all the same. Looking for a dozen ways to rat on fellow students who were just trying to have a good time.”

  “So now he’s going around trying to make students feel guilty for not going to church.” Erik grinned and cursed. Obviously the guilt treatment wasn’t working on him. He added, “What was that stuff about people praying for you and everything?”

  I looked at the beer bottle Erik was twisting open. “Oh, nothing. Just that I made a lot of mistakes when I was at Covenant. Before that, too. I never belonged here in the first place.”

  “Me neither,” Erik said with a cutting laugh.

  “Why’d you decide to go to Covenant?” I asked.

  “My parents wanted me to. They’re paying. Free ride. That sort of thing.”

  I nodded.

  “And you? What about you?”

  “I’m finishing off my time here. I figured I’d finish things where I started them. Besides, I’d lose a ton of credits if I transferred to another college.”

  “But why’d you start at Covenant in the first place?”