Santana and Me
on 59th Street, 10/28/13
Dear Levi,
It was such a
long weekend. I uploaded some pictures from my camera and wrote my dad a long
letter. He even called me on Saturday! I worked both jobs and tried to be an
encouragement to my coworker, Tia. I would love to get her to Friend Day. She
is really my own black friend, and her peculiar mannerism cracks me up… with
her big weave, ghetto rap music, and southern drawl attitude. I am learned a
lot about her culture, which is still so bizarre to my Arian upbringing, and
all the credit goes to God for putting a mutual friend in our lives to make
this friendship possible. We were destined to be enemies formt eh first day my
enthusiasm crashed into her cool apthey… and now, we claim each other and Mary
Morrison as the only reasons keeping us at Panera Bread still. Isn’t God
amazing? I miss my Panera kids. I really do at times. So much has changed…
I knew Sunday
would be hard and I braced myself. Before I went to sleep Saturday night,
exhausted by the long day working both jobs, I crawled onto my knees beside my
little old farm bed and started praying. Just living shouldn’t be so hard… but
I can’t deny what effect you had. You literally altered my life forever, Levi.
And that’s just the truth…
Sunday
morning, I tried for a different look. I’ve been trying my hardest to keep
myself as attractive to you as possible. I kept in mind your love for boots and
the sultry, streamlined European look. But I missed the soft comfort of
American clothes, and I had ordered a tribal maxi skirt online that reminded me
of Washington… of Wapato. Paired with a delicate, brown sweater and an autumn
yellow scarf, I almost felt like I could fit into the fairytale land of the vat
green mountains on the sea. Oh, wistful thoughts.
Sunday School
was another lesson on gentlenss, on kindness. On being like Levi… My cheeks
burned and I hoped no one would glance at me – I was usually invisible in that
class. It seemed God was continuing to relentlessly ingrain in me the
importance of the change I’d comitted to making.
I was nervous
as usual as I heard the stomp of hundreds of steps in the hallway near the end
of the lesson. What if I ran into you and Anna? But you must always go the back
way, because I never have encountered you guys. Still, my hands were cold and
my steps a little shaky as I headed down the hall. Going down the gold railed
staircase instead of turning into the balcony was a releif, for sure, and
suddenly everything about the morning changed for me.
I told God,
“Please, put a blinder next to my eyes so I don’t look for him today. I just
want to see you, God.” And I felt safe moving around downstairs, smiling at the
little old people, weaving my way down the aisle, cathicng a friendly wave from
Mandii in the deaf section. In the loading room for the choir, I was even safer
– comparitavely- but much like a horse in a loading gate, knowing I would be
pushed into full spotlight soon.
Bro. Don fromt
eh nursing home – you’d like him! – caught me by the arm and pulled me into a
grandfatherly hug. I laughed and scolded him for being so mischevious, but the
warm feeling of delight was so real – I truly felt as ease in this room,
belonging for once.
Betty Jo
beamed when she saw me. From the first day I joined choir, she showed me a very
warm kindness. I never expected it. Since then, I’ve stuck by her side for
practices and performances. We’d developed a wonderful relationship and one
random day, she shared her story with me after choir practice. I was stunned…
someday, I may take the time to share it with you, too. As I squeezed her arma
nd slipped behind her in line, she reminded me of a second mother. And yet,
oddly enough.. I’d never shared my story with her, or mentioned even a whisper
of your name…
Blinders on.
The ligth
above the doorway began pulsing in a steady, anxious rhythm. I focused on the
doorway and hummed the first few notes to the opener as we fell into formation.
Someone was counting off bodies in each row, organizing symmetry. I shied under
the outstreatched arm of the stern old deacon holding the door and – careful of
my maxi skirt so as not to stumble up the dark stairs – the din from the two
thousand spectators in the pews roared in my ears, the bright overhead ligths
bouncing off the polished wood of the balstrade as I gripped it to steady
myself.
Blinders,
Lord.
I kept my eyes
on the shiny back of Bro. Ten Inman’s shoes, skidding above the soft, fuzzy red
of the carpet. How could the carpet look so perfect after bearing the tread of
so many steps? I wondered. But I kept my eyes there, where it was safe, and
listeneed as the audience rose to their feet. The people of God had assembled,
with all their flaws and stories, to worship Him this morning. I was sure there
were more Christians spread out before me in this one auditorium than the
entire country of Ukraine itself. Truly, it was beautiful.
Mrs. Waren
sang one of the most heartbreaking songs as a special. The words penetrated my
soul and haunt me still… words about never knowing the reason why for our darkest trials. I know it
can be true, but it made me sad. To never, ever, know why?
After church,
I kept my head down as I headed for my car, parked way out back. The weater was
so nice; gorgeous, really; sunlight streaming down in delightful, delicious
rays of gold; a stirring breeze wafting the smell of harvest grasses and the
rustle of leaves. Wow.
I rolled down
the window to bask in the bliss. How long would the weater continue so mild? I
felt determined to soak up every little moment. Even in my sadness, I found a
little warm puddle of happiness in my stomach.
Thank you,
God.
Traffic was
light as I pulled onto 59th street. Everything on the radio was just
racket or talk shows; I switched it off. The animal shelter on the southeast
side was having a discount on puppies this month and I really wanted to just go
see. I knew it would be so good for my soul; but I was shy to go alone so I
just headed home. Maybe I could find someone to go in the afternoon before
choir.
Pretty much,
that is all that wasy on my mind as I switched lanes to the left hand lane,
hoping to cruise a little steadier on the gas. A firetruck peeled outbehind me
and turned the opposite way, still quiet.
It was that
moment. Checking the driver’s side rear view mirror, that I saw the glimpse of
green. As unique as a june bug, unmistakeable. I saw the dinstinct wear of
paint and then the car slid out of view behind the shiny towncar in front of
it, hiding.
My mouth went
dry. My heart began to slam painfully in my chest, out of control. Had you seen
me? I fumbled frantically for my pretty Dolce & Gabanna sunglasses under
the coin tray, shaking as I shoved them on my face, streaky smear of dust on
them and all. Surely you wouldn’t be able to see my clsoely enough to notice?
While your car was safely hidden hidn the silver one, I nervously tugged at my
scarf and combed through my hair with my fingers. In my mind, all I could hear
were the words of Shakespeare from Romeo
and Juliet, “Men do love with their eyes.” I’d read that work every day in
the cafeteria, sitting in my corner all alone and praying, you’d come over
again onda day to join me. You never did…
I didn’t know
what to do. Were you following me? I would surely doubt that. My existense was
too pitiful to note any of your attention. To confirm this, the silver car
moved over and Santana slowed down so fast it was comical. You fell as far back
as legally possible, putting a huge distance between us, 30, 40, 50 feet and
growing. I wasn’t trying to look so I have no clue of your expression – was it
surprise? Annoyance? Anger? Fear? What do you think of me, new Levi?
Why did you
walk away? What was the emotion? The resoning behind it? Why?? The not knowing
kills me each day. It leaves me helpless and hopeless and… failed. Always
failed.
I honestly
thought you were going to turn off the raod, deviate, run away. I didn’t want
you on my bumper, either, so I courteously moved over into the right lane. A
light was coming up; it turned yellow; I didn’t make it. My care rolled to a
stop; this was a busy intersection for cross traffic and I knew you’d have to
pull back up during the wait.
I quickly
turned on the radio, slamming it overonto 104.1 Magic, as tation of random
songs and some oldiers that you had set for me last Christmas, so I could
listen to the Christmas music. Singing, right? Isn’t that was God had put in my
heart as to be the outlook I wanted to set for your view? Singing in the choir,
in specials? Maybe it had the opposite affect, but I didn’t know what else to
do. How many times ahd my tears and greif and hurt just hardened your heart?
I had to look
different now. With shaking hands, I tossed my hair back and turned the volume
up to ten. It was the most random song, almost acustic, a female vocalist,
oohign about never being royal, almost a tribal sweing to the beat of the big
drums. Weird music… a definite chane. Did you hear it?
But you didn’t
pull up. You kept the car hanging back just out of my direct line of sight, but
still in sight. I made sure not to look in any of the mirrors and hoped you’d
think I hadn’t noticed you. I even angled my otrso to face the opposite window
and looked off that way, as if I was watchign the traffic going down the
intersection. My hair splayed over my shoudlers and, hopefully, created a nice
sheild. Did you feel safer? When I kept facing away from you? Did it help? I
tried, Levi. I don’t want you to feel scared or uncomfortable around me. I
don’t want you to treat me like a threat, like a disease…
All the real
little Noelle wanted to do was hang my head and stare into my lap and let the
tears of shame burn down my cheeks onto my hands, in the despair of the
rejection, in the anguish of the exile, in the humilitation. I wanted to show
you how I truly feel. Would you care? You didn’t before. And yet, once upon a
tiem, you did… was that time all a dream??
I wanted to
turn and look at you. You. My Levi. My best friend. In his own very Santana.
Just inches away from me in Zoila. Just like old times. I wanted to see your
smile. Just once.
But to look
over and see you now? It was all just a foolish, wistful dream. Because reality
is cruel. I would see Anna’s stuff hanging in you front view, and all that
would be between us would be a chasm of impregnable decisions, the strong walls
of steel from our own cars, and the decisiosn that made you want it that way.
And I just couldn’t bear to see it now, so close, so mounstrously real.
So I just sang
as if it didn’t matter to me anymore. Like I could be as carefree and
uninterested by the car behind me with the boy who made up my whole world and
my prayers every sing night, as infactuated with the world beyond the window in
the opposite direction as a wind-blown dandelion.
Royals sang on
their hit “Lord” and I crooned along to the white trash beat of driving
Cadillacs in our dreams… about embracing a life that would never be as the
limelight. I even jammed a little. Did you watch? Did you see? Did you think?
Or did you just…. Look away.
It was an
excruciating two minutes of life. I felt sweat trickle and literally cling to
my bodice as my chest heaved under my scarf. I was so afraid…
…of what?
Your
disapproval? Like you could possibly rate me any lower.
Of the
unknown, I guess. Of the helplessness. O fbeing so close, and yet knowing that
I’ll never get any cloaser. This was it. This breach – this torture – this was
my life now.
Then it was
green. I half expecte dyou to zoom off, trail of smoke and void and disdain,
but that was not Levi. And you stayed so consistently true to form, easing into
a nonchallant, focused speed down the road. So Levi. 100% decided, calm,
silent. Not the precious Levi I knew once in Santana, who opened up and was
vulnerable and unsure and blindingly precious.
I yanked Zoila
into the turn and the ways of our direction now split away. Safe as you faced
the opposite way now, gaining speed, I finally had the liberty to really slow
down and swivel to look after you. You weren’t watching… memories of tha thorrible
day at The West, you drove straight away, eyes fixed on the path you’d already
picked out before you even arrived, not a tear shed.
Where were you
going? Down airport road? Off Portland up to the school? Or making a turn after
the overpass to take you the opposite direction from everything? Where are you
going…. To her? I’ll neve ever know.
Oh the
highway, I shut off the stupid music and sobbed in anguish and heart wrenching,
writhing pain. The cars around me blurred away. So close. We had been so close. No pretense now; no floorshow.
The tears gushed and I broke down in grief. What had I done? How did I lose
absolutely everything with you???
I just wanted
to go see puppies. I spent the afternoon doing laundry and praying. So much.
When I went back to church, I saw you and her in your usual spots. I kept
otherwise focused – I had so many people to reach out to, and I tried to be an
encouragement for my dear girls so wearied int eh semester.
The sermon…
did you hear it? When Pastor Gaddis siad, “Be careful, your coworker gives you
some attention, and you exchange numbers, and texts, and it take syou downa
road you never planned.” I wondered if you would even recognize the situation
or not. I squeezed my eeye sand asked God ot speak to me. I didn’t want to
think of the new Levi. I just wanted to hear from God for Noelle.
And afer the
sermon, I took my time saying goodbye to my friends. When I finally went
downstairs, I missed a step. Because there at the bottom of the great golden
rail, smack dab in the center of the foyer doors, stood you and Anna and you
friends I didn’t know. I looked at my feet to make it the rest of the way down,
feleing sick. Why? Why dead ceter? Laughing… flirting… over the top
ostentatious. My legs could barely steer me through the din of noise and crowd
of bodies out to my car. Planning a fun night on the town? Why should you be in
any rush to leave, anyways? But why… why at the front? Why? I knew I’d have to
start going out the back door… and it was so unfair. It hurt so badly. I felt
exiled, again.
And in my car,
there I saw you guys now piling onto the front steps. Anna was wearign thi
sdelicate, floating blouse of peaches or pink that I just loved. It could have
been a selection from my own closet. You laughed and laughed and laughed and
laughed….
I drove away.
I drove to South Grand Boulevarde. And as the darkness and isolation and
loneliness began to squeeze in on me, I wept afresh.
My park was
empty. It was cold. I didn’t get out but brought up my knees to my chin and
tucked the blanket roaund my legs and cried. Bitter tears. And as I prayed…
…I prayed a
new prayer…
I prayed God
would end it. Take away my love. It was too much. Too much pain, too much
hopelessness, too much blind faith. God, please. I don’t’ want to love who he
has become, this new Levi. I don’t’ want it anymore. He’s too alien. It’s too
hopeless. Please, God, please.
I prayed God
would just bless you and Anna, make you the happy parents of many little Fowler
children. And God would just take me away.
One year is so
close. In that year we spent officially together… so many memories… Remember
the little post card notes every day the summer while I was overseas? And
reality is… time has stood still for me since you left. But you’ve been with
her almost the very amount of time we’ve had. And surely all your memories with
me have been rewritten now by her. There is no chance of hope.
I drove home,
and I couldn’t look at my phone to see the pictures of Jackie, Forrest and
Justina. I couldn’t look at GiGi’s letters. I opened my Bibl eto Luke,
somewhere random, somewhere safe. It was chapter 5. God, take away my love for him, I prayed. It was chapter 5 that
opened up. And to my astonishment… verse twenty seven began the story of a man
named LEVI who repented and followed Christ. It was too much. Too cruel.
I fell across my bed weeping, and I didn’t
understand anything anymore. How could God still want me to love you? I just
gave up.
Your star,
Rigel
