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Let’s say for argument’s sake it doesn’t bother me one bit; fondling each other. Oh how obvious to torment the very feelings I so cleverly concealed. I despise him and you knew it, you enjoyed this annoyance as much as I‘d been accustomed. Shy, I looked away at the grasping of her hips. Uncomfortable did turn my attention, focusing on something that didn’t reek of saliva or sweat.
Briggs’ pupils always gazing upon my stature. Always apparent presence making the living area quite unmanageable. I could scurry off to the corner I established as home. Who wins if I hide in dark corners of my room? Who is going to portray a strong woman if no examples exist? Acts like this carried on for weeks, a month or so. You saw the way it made me flinch. The way every time you kissed beneath the chin, I quivered in remembrance. You acknowledged me no further than the unlawful doings reputed to show.
Your futile behavior made quite the difficulty to consider reconciliation. Crossed pathways, decision being made I wasn’t giving into your games. I began to play one of my own, called not giving Briggs the daylight of time. I’m becoming pretty damn good!
As you noticed lost interest in this green-eyed character I mirrored. Jealousy was an intense sin. I returned to the awkward upbringings of silence. Every so often that flat expression on your face, wondered if I became weak for your touch.
Eyes glared every time I walked through that apartment door. Every single roommate belittling the individual standing before them. Ashlee conceived lies about Briggs and I. Turning her plastic nose up at the person once claimed as a sister. Confessions to friends that I took Briggs under spell, great now I’m magician! How else would I convince a guy to talk to me, proceeding to fib? Every inch of unruly eyes rolling over and over. Ashlee was known as the literal definition of the foulest person. Assurance that her mother and father are very proud of the young woman she evolved into. Needless to say classmates enjoyed my company in infinite measures.
Series following fondles and cuddles grew grosser than the blood baths on horror films I observed in glee. Making remorse feel like a solitary shelter. I understand I am to blame for thinking a guy like him could help change a woman like me.
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Ashlee set me up! I know she did! Was all I could think as I entered that office. Called in to meet with who declared leadership. Titles called to him as the Bishop or in this very case Branch President.
Escorted into the square office.
“Tracey Aliza it’s come to my attention that you’ve been having inappropriate relations with a fellow male student.” He waited for my response. As if there was a sign on his forehead that read please confess weaknesses and every imperfection.
“Excuse me sir?” Confused is this how it works? Were we supposed to confess everything bad ever thought?
“There have been rumors.” His knuckles white crisscrossed over one another.
“Rumors? Sir?” Baffled as I was, I began to understand that it was not tolerated to have relations with the opposite sex. True to my nation, I understood this was just like the rules I’d grown to know.
“Speculations you are acting unworthy, my dear.” I am most certain I have never been anyone’s so called dear. Let alone a man I have just made as an acquaintance.
“Speculations? I assume following up on gossip? Are those corrections in order?” A rough patch growing in my throat.
“Gossip. We do not listen to such tall tales. Here on provable facts here.” Soon I would find out what sin I would plead forgiveness.
“I assure you sir, I am not involved with any male figures. I know not to speak to the boy students and all that Jazz.” My hands began to shake. I slapped them together tucking between the kneecaps.
His smile was quiet. Stare struck into my blue eyes. Something he saw every day and somehow he was seeing it now; guilt.
“Unless Jazz is bad too, then none of that whatsoever.” Gladly giving into odd ideas of my strange personality.
“Miss Livingston, there is an Honor Code set in place at BYU. Every student abides by the rules.” In my hands he placed another copy of the guidelines I abided.
“I embrace that you have proof of these actions Mr. Branch President?” Eager to understand what proof was evidence enough to lead me to his office. I glance down at his last name, Bleu. Calculations being precise. All facts and folklore coming into perfect harmony.
“Did your daughter make these complaints contrary to me? She is my roommate.” He gleams acceptance of the things I profess.
“Such a beautiful name Tracey Aliza. You should go by that instead of this Trae Lae business.” What an awful name; Tracey Aliza. I was one of many. Born into the prototype of human beings.
“I do follow the rules.” In his hands I laid the copy back. I had done nothing wrong, I corrected.
“My daughter’s middle name is Tracey.” Ignoring absolute honesty.
“Is she the 4th or 5th child in the line of kin? I am the 2nd in my generation. I will tell you this because obviously you don’t understand the meaning of names.” My gut bulging with pride and power. His vision changed. More nervous than wearing a skirt four inches above knee length.
“I am named Tracey because in a male dominate society, who think little of the female race, it deemed inevitable to confirm my father wanted a 2nd son.” His silence spoke for itself. Ruled by souls and soldiers of generational men he acted as the rest did. I feared my gumption.
“My name and place are of no concern to you or the board members, you suppose I should confess my wills too. I am pure in thought and mind. My reputation or report does not fall into your hands. I send all undignified claims to God. You sir, my brother, elder, Ashlee’s padre, claim whatever name fits you best. Are in dire need of editing your remarks on the obligation others have to confide in you, for we are both made from His Divinity.”
“No need to raise your tone, young lady. Do realize though physically we are made from similar materials, in spirit quite the opposite of ingredients. I will always float higher.”
“You're confessing to me that I am below you as a human? Because you stand behind a desk and have Bishop in front of a calling? Does that make sense? Orate to me that I am lesser in God’s eyes because of a position?” Stricken with benevolent words, all of us equals.
“Who are you to question Him?” Standing abruptly slamming down the mug of warm water.
“Who are you not to question?” My spoken word soft and confident.
Hands swiping in downward motions smoothing out his white dress shirt he sat parallel from me once again.
“An event in my community happens when a young lady or man comes to the age of 16 years. He or she is free to wander outside of our community walls. Join in on experiences our beliefs neglected to share. Some individuals choose to be baptized back in seeing what the awful world has to offer. Others, like myself chose to leave the solitary idea of conformity. To wander outside of the safe harbor is not blasphemy, but bravery.”
“Tracey Aliza do you have a fiend telling you that these things are acceptable to reference? The words delivered to me are shouts for succor. You are no longer part of the Amish community. You live here in the midst of Latter Day Saints patrons. I recommend you to remember your place as a visiting student.”
“These ideas are my own way of thinking. The error you assume is an opinion from a closed minded individual whose has seen the sunshine on one side.” My stomach squeezed tight against my belt loop. A deep low voice in the back of my memories telling me to stop or the consequences of my words will be dealt in secret pains. Father Levi’s tone frightened my strength.
“This conversation of beliefs will leave your thoughts right now. You will evade sharing your tall tales with the other students, because that is what they are: fictitious ideas.”
“Fictitious…My mind is monitored in close proximity. Your devotion to exile questionnaires from my cranium would go against which the Mormon religion prophesies, does it not, fr
ee will?”
Brother Bleu’s slight nod of the head commenced touché.
“Do you suspect one of your classmates as a master of lies, Miss Livingston? Your charges are mindboggling. Actions in this manner as a protective state.” He was stern and still slid the Code of Honor book back over the desk. Anger hidden under the red tie on his white pressed shirt.
This action appeared to me that I already given in and confessed to my demeanor.
“Not at all. My judgment would suppose falsified information and incorrect. If I am to confess of impure thoughts, but no actions have come from thinking them.” I grabbed the copy of the DO’s & DON’TS.
Flipped his hand away, giving approval to flee.
“We’ll be in touch.” His focus returning to the sports section of the newspaper.
“I’m sure you will be keeping both eyes upon my whereabouts.” Silent in my steps as I exited the office, scrutinized, even scorned.
My outcast status was clear. Symbol to others not to act as I have. They made an example out of my backlash behavior. Abandon any hope that I would cause rebellion with the ideas I contorted. I suppose other students might see the glory in their guidance counselors.
I threw the copy on the pile of other read copies. Instructions promised thrown out and forgotten. Did they miss my name when they gave them out at orientation?
I read and re-read that Honor Code and still I neglected to find out what I mistaken and slipped on. Was it my clothes? No, I wore longer dresses and skirts than these wannabes modest gals put together.
I loved the weather being clear and freedom roaming around in the breath you breathed. Thoughts about leaving constricted my motives. I was at home in my heart. I searched everywhere to a place I could feel like I could prove myself. Cruising the nation for the next hot stop on our Circus tour. Now, here stranded in isolated wilderness pending the second coming of Jesus Christ.
◊
After the intense standoff with Ashlee’s active papa, my entire thoughts on the edge of combat. This time against those that called me sister. That one right there telling lies to her gullible father, crawling to her every whim. I saw abuse in power, the men filling ideas of pride in their hearts instead of humble reverence. I left the community for such reasons of misunderstandings. Not about to be pushed out with the sinners, just because his daughters thoughts of me revoked her potential to be a suitable human.
I would stand against the age of time. God loved the individual who prayed within and spoke directly with him. I fought mentally over the concept of what the Mormon Church preached to members. Sad to say, that most are alike to I. Encouraged to be produced and accept what elders seem fit in place of truth.
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The Circus in Me Page 11
