CHAPTER TWO
3-23-08/Easter Sunday.
Joan looks at herself in the full length mirror and mouths, 'blech'. She has always hated Easter outfits, and that includes the one she is wearing today. Joan has on a conservative, full-sleeved dress in pastel green that is accented by a white lace collar with a belt, shoes, gloves and a beret – all in white. A perfect reminder of spring, despite the damp, 40 degree grey-skied weather. Joan takes one last look…
"Hello 1958." Joan snickers.
Joan leaves the guest room and goes to the kitchen where she sees Aunt Theresa very carefully pouring a cup of coffee. She too is in her Easter outfit – a yellow dress also trimmed in white (not a good look for her).
"Good morning Aunt Theresa."
Theresa sips her coffee and ignores Joan. The tension between them is thick – a lingering after effect from the words exchanged the previous night. What was she thinking, telling her very Catholic aunt that she was in town to seduce a man? Joan received a brief, stinging lecture that ended with: "I'll pray for you." Joan sighs as she wonders how mad her aunt is. She notices a second cup of coffee is on the table and along side of that, a chocolate pop-tart.
"You remembered."
Theresa suppresses a smile. "How could I forget? When you were a little girl and would stay the night, the only thing you ever wanted for breakfast was pop-tarts, chocolate being your favorite."
"Thanks. Aunt Theresa, about last night…"
"I think it best we drop the matter. I realize you're no longer a little girl, Joan. Your morals, or lack of them, are your concern."
"Aunt Theresa, please don't be like that. It hurts that you think so lowly of me. I'm sorry for what I said. I didn't mean it."
Theresa looks directly at Joan. "Don't lie – especially on the Sabbath, especially on Easter. I saw your face Joan when you blurted out your admission. You were embarrassed you had been so blunt, but it was the truth. You came back to your hometown to...bed down with some man."
Joan groans. "Okay, that was…a partial truth. I was dwelling on what I thought of as the worst case scenario – me having to throw myself at the guy. I tend to dwell on worst case scenarios, and then to cover my nervousness, I sometimes blurt out a piece of bravado. The seduction scenario definitely isn't locked in. I still have to see how things go between the two of us. Besides Aunt Theresa, haven't you ever been so excited by a man you were willing to risk being foolish?"
"No."
Liar! Joan almost blurts it out. Jimmy Tubbs told her the story of how back in the early 80's Theresa Girardi and her BFF Martha Danzig attended an educational conference in Miami, and met two men they thought were fellow teachers. It turned out they were undercover vice cops who were trying to bust a drug ring that was flooding the Chicago schools with some of Miami's best white powder. As a part of their cover, the two cops romanced the two women from Chicago, and that led to them pairing off for a night of sexual bliss, which was rudely interrupted by a gun battle with the drug dealers. The two frightened women fled back to Chicago, swearing off men. A month later Martha found out she was pregnant, and Theresa morphed into the prude she is today.
Theresa continues, "The point is Joan, no matter how you try to sugar coat it, you're here for a…what do they call it?"
"Bootie call."
Theresa sniffs at that phrase. "Yes, and I've already expressed my views on that. Now finish your breakfast. We don't want to be late for church."
X X X X X
St. Wendel's is the small Catholic church that serves the neighborhood. It hasn't changed a bit since Joan was last here about a half dozen years ago. (It is one of those stubbornly stuck in the past type of church that reluctantly accepted it had to switch from Latin masses to English.) Joan's familiarity with St. Wendel's is due solely to Aunt Theresa. Her rule was that when her young niece visited overnight on Saturdays, she had to go to church on Sunday, and Theresa didn't care what her agnostic brother had to say about that. 'Willie', always a little intimidated by his big sister, never made a fuss.
The old church with its' creaky floors and even creakier pews doesn't stir any fond memories for Joan, but she has to restrain from shouting with joy when she sees two of her old friends from high school - Emma Martinez (formerly Clarke) and Maggie Jones (formerly Pulaski). There isn't time before the start of services for a reunion, but enthusiastic smiles and waves are exchanged.
The morning services, conducted by the old (really old) Father Beadle, have a comforting familiarity. The sermon (no doubt taken from a standard book of sermons) is a basic review of the standard Reseurrection message. Joan would swear that it is word-for-word the same Easter message she heard here six years ago. Joan follows along, kneeling when others kneel, repeating the responses others make and dutifully taking communion. To Joan there is very little of God in all of this, but she knows the congregation finds a soul-soothing comfort here. (This is a group that doesn't like a lot of surprises in their religion.) As soon as the services end, Joan eagerly rushes to greet her old friends...
X X X X X
"Have you found her yet?"
Joan, idly picking at her food, is slow to respond. It isn't the noise of the mall's food court that has her distracted...
"Found who, Aunt Theresa?"
"Your younger self. You've certainly been looking hard for her."
"What do you mean?"
"When you met your friends after church, they were so glad to see you. They enjoyed showing off their husbands and their babies and talking about their jobs, but you kept trying to turn the conversation back around to your old high school days."
"Maybe I was jealous. While they have been getting on with their lives, I'm still just a student living at home with my parents."
"Joan, they weren't showing off, they were sharing. And they were greatly interested in your life now."
"Yeah, I saw how interested they were when I mentioned Jimmy."
Theresa nods. "It was an awkward moment, but what did you expect? You've kept in touch with these girls for years, but you hid the most painful chapter of your life. Why?"
Joan sighs. "There was a point when I got so tired of all of the sympathy and the ever so helpful: 'Are you getting on with your life', that I couldn't take it any more. I just wanted to be able to communicate with someone without all of that crap."
Theresa restrains herself from correcting Joan's language. "I can understand that. They are the people from young Joan's carefree days, and you wanted to keep the relationship at the level. Sort of like why you wanted to have lunch at this mall instead of the nice restaurant I had reservations at. I remember how you use to spend every free moment you could here with your friends. Has this trip helped you to reconnect?"
Joan hesitates a long time before answering. "I look at this place and try to remember why it was so important to me. On the flight out I was so eager to see the old neighborhood, my friends and our old haunts... I guess I did think I would be connecting with my past self."
"There's the old saying: 'You can't go home again'."
"Not when other people are living there. Not when your old self has...died."
"A perfect metaphor for today: death and reseurrection. The old self dies so the new, better self can be born."
Joan smiles. "Why Aunt Theresa, are you saying you weren't fond of the freshman version of me?"
Theresa smiles back. "I loved you, but you were a silly, distracted 'C' student who never took life seriously. The future you were headed for didn't look like a bright one. Of course all of that changed after Kevin's accident."
"How so?"
"For the first time you realized life could hurt you. The concept of consequences finally sank in and that's when you started to grow up. For awhile you stopped talking back, kept your room clean and even went to church all on your own. Of course it didn't last, but it was your first effort at maturity, and that eventually led to the beautiful, accomplished young woman I see before me."
"With the morals of a slut."
Theresa blushes. "I'm sorry I was so harsh, Joan. My ways must seem so old-fashioned to you. But, I do remember what it was like to be young and hormonal, even if I didn't get a lot of opportunities to act that way due to my rather plain looks. Still, I know how quickly you can develop an overwhelming attraction to a man. But, I also have life experiences that tell me that way is a mistake. Morals aside, and despite what romantic comedies tell us, people don't really fall in love at first sight. That kind of 'love' is a shack built on a pile of shifting sand. True love is a mansion built on a bedrock of commitment, time and effort. That's the kind that lasts. You need only look to your parents to see that."
Joan listens to her aunt's words...
X X X X X
Joan parks in front of Theresa's house, as silent as she has been for most of the afternoon. Her aunt's words have sunk in and for the first time Joan is wondering what the hell is she doing in Chicago? It is crazy for her to have travelled halfway across the country to try to hook up with a guy she barely knows... Tyler Christan, whom she met while on an assignment for Homeland Security, is unlike any man Joan has met before. CEO of his own successful company, Tyler is a confident, handsome, sophisticated man who has dominated Joan's thoughts ever since she met him five weeks ago. They shared a mutually intense, immediate attraction, but had to part after knowing each other for only a few hours. Now, Joan has followed Tyler back to their mutual hometown expecting...what? Hot sex and instant romance? Maybe...more? Joan shakes her head. For all she knows, Tyler might be a billionaire playboy who seduces a different impressionable young woman every week...
"We have company."
Joan exits the car and stares at a blonde young man waiting on the front steps. It has been nearly seven years since she last saw him, but Joan has no trouble recognizing this visitor. He stands and extends his hand to an approaching Theresa...
"Hello, Miss Girardi. I don't know if you remember me?"
Coldly, Theresa responds, "Steve Dawes. Yes, I remember how you spent a year sniffing around my niece like a dog in heat. I won't invite you in because I also remember how you treated Joan."
Theresa walks by Steve and heads for the front door, but pauses before entering. From behind Steve's back Theresa points and mouths: 'Him'? Joan firmly shakes her head 'NO'. Theresa goes inside as Steve gives Joan a cautious smile... Joan remains grim as she looks him over. Steve Dawes - her first boyfriend, and her first heartbreak.
"Hello Joan. I guess I wouldn't blame you if you slapped my face."
In response, Joan throws an astonishingly fast punch...that stops an inch short of Steve's nose.
"Made you flinch."
Steve gulps. "Wow. That was...wow. Thank you for not breaking my nose."
"If I wanted to physically punish you, then you'd be writhing on the ground craddling your junk. What do you want, Steve?"
"To apologize. The news has been spreading that you are back in town, and as soon as I heard I rushed over. I'm glad I finally have this chance to say I'm sorry."
Joan sits on the front steps and stares up at Steve. She always imagined that if they ever met again, he would be ugly - they way all rotten bastards should be. But, Steve was the best looking guy in eighth grade and time has only improved his looks...
"You had plenty of opportunities to apoplogize. I was fourteen when you hurt me, and I didn't leave Chicago until I was fifteen."
Steve gives an apologetic shrug. "I first had a lot of growing up to do."
Joan sighs, feeling the pain from almost seven years ago returning. All through eighth grade she and Steve were a couple. First crush, first date, first kiss - all of those belong to Steve Dawes, as well as first heartbreak.
"Why did you do it, Steve? I've always wondered. If all you wanted was to break up with me, then you should have just said so. Why did you have to hurt me like that?"
Steve sees tears glistening in Joan's eyes, and he has to struggle not to respond the same way. "I'm sorry. I'm really, really so very sorry."
"That's not an explanation. I want to know why you felt the need to publicly humiliate me."
Steve stares at the ground, blushing. "I don't know why I was so...weak. I look back on the 14 year old version of myself and he's someone I don't understand. I started out so much in love with you, I thought we would be a couple forever. Then, as the school year was coming to a close, I realized that due to where we lived, we would be going to different high schools. It suddenly dawned on me that we wouldn't survive being a couple while in different schools. By then there was this other girl, Arlene, who was flirting with me and who was headed for the same high school as me. When I began...secretly dating Arlene, I rationalized I was just looking ahead at the inevitable."
"So you cheated on me because you decided we were predestined to fail? Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence. Was this around the time of our last month in eighth grade?" (Steve nods.) "I thought so. That was when you made your big push to finally get to second base. How many times did I hear you plead: 'If you love me, you'll let me touch them'. And to think, I use to feel guilty about keeping you at a distance."
Steve winces, hearing the pain in Joan's voice. "When you finally let me touch...when you said you were doing this because you loved me, I was grateful but I felt so guilty knowing I was going to dump you."
"But that didn't stop you from fondling to your heart's content, and saying how much you loved me for letting you do that!" Joan says, even as she remembers she actually enjoyed the experience. "Even if you had dumped me right after that, it wouldn't have hurt as much as what happened next. The next day you bragged to every guy in school, and described in great detail...it was so humiliating!" Joan chokes off, crying.
Steve sits beside Joan, feeling miserable. "I didn't want to do it, but...Arlene insisted. It was the price she put on letting me do a lot more than get to second base. A lot more."
Joan wipes away her tears. "Arlene? She's the one who wanted to publicly humiliate me? But why? I don't even remember her."
"You wouldn't. She was one of those kids who went unnoticed, on the sidelines of school...and life. Arlene blamed the popular girls for not including her in anything. In her warped mind she saw it as a conspiracy against her rather than being ignored because no one knew her. She hated you because you were the most popular girl in school."
Joan shakes her head in disbelief. "So one of the most miserable times of my life is due to a crazy girl I don't even remember because she had a grudge against the popular girls. And you, Steven Francis Dawes, must be the biggest jerk of all times to have gone along with her scheme. How could I have been so wrong about you? I knew you were a horndog, like all teenaged boys, but I thought there was a decent guy under all of that."
Steve wipes a few tears from his eyes and sighs heavily. "If it's any consolation to you, I've hated myself for years for what I did to you."
"You should. And what about 'Arlene'?"
"I knew what I did for Arlene was horrible, but I had just turned 14 and I had a chance to be the first guy in our class to have sex. By the way, it was a miserable experience. I...almost didn't go through with it. It was so creepy the way Arlene kept laughing about how she had hurt you."
"But you did go through with it."
"Well...she was naked."
Joan snickers. "Guys! You never can get beyond small head thinking."
"Oh, over time we eventually learn our lessons. After a few months, when my hormones began to settle down, I realized just how big of a lunatic Arlene was. I broke up with her, and that...didn't go so well. She devoted herself to making me miserable, and threatened that if I ever told you the truth, she would kill us both."
"Wow, you sure can pick'em. And are we in danger?"
"No. Arlene got progressively worse in high school, and I wasn't the only one she was harassing. She became increasingly violent and was finally expelled from school. Eventually, she was institutionalized."
"Sounds like she got what she deserved. That leaves you, Steve. What should your punishment be?"
"But...I apologized."
"And it was a good one: the trembling in the voice, the tears - all very moving. But you hurt me, and in all fairness, you should get a little pain back."
"What did you have in mind?"
"Stand."
Steve and Joan both stand and face each other.
"Spread your legs."
Steve gulps. "Are you kidding?"
"I was thinking, that idea about you writhing on the ground, craddling your junk, has a certain poetic justice."
"You really expect me...?"
"Didn't you come here to square things between us? You-owe-me!"
Steve groans in dismay, spreads his legs wide and braces himself. "I...owe you."
Joan steps closer, pulls back her leg and kicks hard...again stopping an inch from her target.
"Made you flinch." Joan says with a grin.
Steve breathes an enormous sigh of relief. "You've gotten a little crazy over the years."
"You're not the first to say that."
"So...are we good?"
"Pretty close to it. Go, and sin no more."
Joan and Steve exchange nods and he begins to walk away. He pauses...
"Thank you, Joan. This was a burden on my soul for much too long."
Steve Dawes walks away and Joan watches until he goes around the corner. She looks up at the sky...
"Okay, where are you?"
A voice responds... "Over here, Joan."
Joan looks to the sidewalk and recognizes Power-walker God, the one who instructed her to smash Adam's sculpture all those years ago.
Joan says, "Okay, what's the deal? As soon as I saw Steve I recognized 'the glow'. First Dylan, then Bonnie and now Steve - all instruments of God. Are you messing with my mind? Three people hurt me and you reward them by making them your servants. Why?"
"Don't take it personally, Joan. They are all connections, following their most likely destinies which were determined long before you met them. You...are a sort of nexus for a wide variety of connections. For instance, Steve has completed boot camp and is about to be offered advanced training. By ending that troublesome burden on his soul, you have freed him to rise higher. Joan, all of humanity bears varying degrees of burdens on their souls. It is a wonderful thing to be able to shed those burdens."
"Is that a hint of an assignment?"
"As I once said, I'm all about hints. Enjoy your stay in Chicago, Joan."
As Power-walker God continues her way down the sidewalk, Joan feels in her own soul a lifting of the burden she has carried for seven years - her grudge against Steve. She also realizes that despite her 'vacation', she is not off duty.
To Be Continued.