Chapter 1
Time really does fly when you are having fun. Unfortunately the minutes at this moment were ticking by at an incredibly slow rate. Here I sat in my cap and gown waiting for the superintendent to call out my name so that I could race up to the makeshift stage that sat in the middle of the football field, grab my diploma, and quickly dart off the other side hopefully unnoticed by anyone. Why did my last name have to start with a W? They were finally down to the Ms. At least I didn’t know anyone that I had to send an invitation to. The only people that knew about my ceremony were my parents and since they hadn’t been together for many years they wouldn’t be sitting together if they had come. My mother was the rebellious daughter of a southern Baptist preacher. She was probably too busy with her community service(not the church kind) to attend. My father on the other hand was a musician. He was always on the road. My mother had been a groupie for them back in the day. At the time her dream was to become a video vixen so that she could be seen on MTV. That didn’t last long when she got pregnant with me. The two of them decided to make a go of it anyway and went to Vegas to get married. Two years later it came to an abrupt end. With him being on the road it was no surprise when he called and said he couldn’t make it. I wasn’t upset about it. Really, I wasn’t. I had grown accustomed to his absence. Its not like he ever made it to a single birthday party. Of course there weren’t a lot of those anyway. There was one when I turned ten and another when I turned thirteen. The only people there of course were me and my mom. So, it wasn’t a big deal that he wasn’t at my graduation. Finally they were down to the Ts. I still couldn’t help but look around. What if she did show? I hoped silently that if she didn’t no one would recognize me other than the people who were acquainted to my mother in some form or fashion. My mother had kept her hair bleach blonde for as long as I could remember. My hair was a mousy brown. She kept her hair teased high like people did in the eighties. Mine was straight as a board like my dad’s. My eyes were a dark brown like hers though. His eyes were green. For the most part my mother and I didn’t really look anything alike. That was good. I had always taken it upon myself to stay low profile. So maybe my odds of being unrecognized were good after all.
 
 
 
“Evan Williams,” the superintendent called. Finally. I walked up to the stage. I thought I was briskly walking but everything seemed to be flowing at the rate of an hour glass. I felt him shake my right hand and put the diploma in my left. Sweet relief. I glanced one last time to look towards the crowd. She wasn’t there. Good. It was over. The walk back to my seat seemed to happen faster. It felt almost as if I had floated there. I threw my cap with he rest of the class and said my goodbye to John Berrard High School. As I walked to my car I felt a huge sense of relief. Even more than I felt after I got my diploma. Now if I could make it until July. That was when my eighteenth birthday was and I would be completely free to walk away from this place and never return.
Rainwater, Mississippi. The epiphany of southern hospitality… if you weren’t from here. If you were born here then everybody knew it every time you sneezed. Not to mention it didn’t help if your mother had slept with every married man for a hundred miles.
I finally made it to my 1986 Plymouth Horizon. As I put the key in the ignition I prayed a silent prayer and hit the switch. Nothing. Great. I popped the hood and got out. I got my screwdriver that I had stashed beside the battery. I crossed it through the bolts on the side of the fender well and jumped the starter. The motor sputtered to life. I quickly slammed the hood and got in. By now the crowd that was leaving the football field had made a line out of the parking lot. I sat there flipping through the stations on my radio. Arggh! I hated country music. Finally I found a station that was out of Oxford. They played some pretty cool stuff so I left it there. For twenty minutes I sat in line. My car did not like to idle. It always got thirsty when I let it idle. Why not live dangerously today? After all, I did just graduate high school. Why not tempt my car into thinking it could actually make it to the gas station. Half a mile from the store I was walking. So much for temptation. I was so used to running out that I had started keeping a gas jug in my hatch. I pumped the gas into a jug, paid the cashier, and walked back. Could this day get any worse? I emptied the jug and put it back into the hatch. The fumes mad my car smell. I got in and turned the key. No sound. I popped the hood to use my screwdriver technique again. After all of that I was finally headed home. I got caught at the only red light in town. Go figure. Then the weirdest thing happened. I saw a red convertible in my peripheral vision in the turn lane. I turned to look at it and sitting on the back where the top folded down was a really beautiful men. God, he was hot. He didn’t have on a shirt and he was well cut. Blonde hair. Gorgeous teeth. He turned and smiled at me. Then I saw them. Huge white wings spreading from his back. I gasped and blinked . When I looked back at him he was laughing and carrying on with the rest of the people in the car. But there weren’t any wings. I really needed to get home. Those gas fumes were messing with my head. I hurried the rest of the way. I parked my car in the usual spot under the tree. I turned my key to the front door and went in. Me and my mom lived in a small wooden house right outside of town. It was only two bedrooms , one bathroom, a kitchen, and a very small living room. I took my diploma to my bedroom and put it inside of a filing cabinet that served as my nightstand. Inside it were the only pictures I had of my family, (None of which included all of us together at the same time.) my birth certificate, and all of the letters I had gotten back saying I wasn’t accepted by certain colleges. I had even been brave enough to apply to Harvard and Yale. Harvard sent a letter of rejection back within a week. I didn’t ever hear anything back from Yale. I guess they thought my application wasn’t even worth a rejection letter. I took off my shoes and walked back to the kitchen. I opened the refrigerator to half a gallon of soured milk, two pieces of cheese, and a bologna rind. More great news. I shut the door and walked to the cabinet. Inside it was a jar of peanut butter. I grabbed a spoon from the drawer and plopped down on the couch. I I turned on the TV. We didn’t have but two channels with rabbit ears. Country cable we called it. Of course there was nothing on. I put on my favorite CD of My Chemical Romance in and put my earphones in my ears. I laid down on my bed. I never made it through the second song.
His face was beautiful. He was the most amazing thing I had ever seen. It was the guy I saw in the back of the car earlier. This time he definitely had wings. He was looking right at me. His smile was something that if he hadn’t been an angel I would describe as sinful. He opened his mouth to say something.
“Evan.”
My eyes flew open. I could still hear the echo from his voice. It was a voice like music. It was dark outside. My CD player had clicked off and I heard laughter. I knew my mother was home and she apparently had company. I got up to go see who was with her this time. The two of them were snuggled up on the couch.
“Oh, hey baby,” mom said. “We didn’t know you were here.”
“My car is outside, where else would I be?”
“Well, I thought you might be out tonight.”
“With who?”
“Well, I can hope can’t I?” She smiled her perfect I’m trying to be a good parent but failing miserably smile. “Evan, this is Marcus.” The man seemed to be in his mid fourties with dark and hair and a thick dark mustache. He was wearing one of those denim shirts with pearly looking snap buttons. He also had on cowboy boots. Great. Another one of those types.
“Nice to meet cha,” he said. I cut my eyes back to my mother.
“Have you been drinking?”
“ I only had a few, honey.”
“You know that’s against your probation.”
“Evan please. It was only a few and besides, I didn’t drive. This nice cowboy gave me a ride home.”
Cowboy? In Mississippi? it’s a wonder she hadn’t used the term fine southern gentleman. Either way in my book they were fictional characters.
“Thanks,” I nodded to him.
“Anytime, he said with a smirk. I had gained enough practice over the years to get what I wanted out of these types.
“Mom, we need some milk. Can you give me ten dollars so that I can go get a few things.” She reached down to her purse to get the money. He reached for her arm to stop her. Boy, was I slick. He reached in his back pocket, pulled out his wallet, and handed me a twenty.
“Keep the rest for yourself,” he told me.
“Thanks.” Yes. I knew I had just been paid off for the privacy. Who cared it was nothing new. I got to the car and popped the hood. I didn’t take any chances this time. I just went ahead with the screwdriver. I didn’t hesitate to get out of there. I didn’t want to know what was probably already going on in the house. I drove straight into town and up to the Sonic. I ordered a footlong cheese coney, a route 44 lemon berry slush, and an order of onion rings. As I sat there I watched the cars driving around me. This was part of our little town loop. There weren’t a lot of people around here tonight. No surprise. They were probably off at graduation parties. I sat there longer than it took me to eat. On the way home I stopped at the quick stop and picked up a loaf of bread, a gallon of milk, and a candy bar. I crept home. I was hoping my mom’s friend would be gone by the time I got back. When I got out of the car a huge gust of wind blew through the trees. It was so strong I almost lost my balance. Another perk to living in the south. Frequent thunderstorms.
When I walked in she was sitting at the kitchen table. I poured myself a glass of milk and sat down with her.
“Evan, are you upset with me for not being there today?”
“No, mom. It’s ok.”
“Are you sure because I feel really bad about it.” She started crying.
“Mom, its ok.” She was rally wasted. She sobbed until she laid her head down on the table. I helped her down the hall to her room. She plopped down on the bed so hard I thought it might break. She didn’t even flinch. As I turned to walk out of her room something on the corner of her dresser caught my attention. The corner of a brown envelope was sticking out of a pile of underwear she had thrown on top of her dresser. I pulled it out slowly. It was from Yale to me. I glanced back at her and wondered why she didn’t give it to me. I took it and walked slowly back to the kitchen. I sat down and pulled it open. I slowly pulled the letter out.
Dear Miss Williams: Congratulations on your acceptance…
Acceptance? I re-read the letter again. Could this be for real? Why had she not given this to me? It was obvious she hadn’t opened it, so why hide it? She had probably just forgot. Who cared. There was a problem though. My deadline had passed. Maybe there was hope anyway. I took the letter and went back to my room. I laid there awake for hours thinking of what I would say tomorrow on the phone when I called the school to see if there was any hope at all. Sleep was inevitable. I don’t know when it overtook me.
The next thing I remember was waking abruptly the next morning to what I thought was a choir singing on the TV. It was wonderful. I lay there for a few minutes with my eyes closed listening to the harmonious voices blending the beautiful melodies together. I couldn’t make out what they were saying but it was awesome. I wish I could sing that way. Then I opened my eyes and the only thing I heard was the rain pelting down on my window outside. There was no music at all. Wow. What a weird dream. Just then I remembered the letter. I got up and went straight to the kitchen. She was already there with a large cup of coffee in her hand. I rounded on her. I didn’t care how hung over she was.
“Mom, why didn’t you give me that letter on your dresser?”
She sat there with a contemplative look on her face before she frowned.
“I just didn’t want you to be disappointed again, honey. I knew it was the only school you hadn’t heard from and since you were turned down so much, I just thought it was better for you to think they just never sent you one at all. Besides, Carla says when you turn eighteen she can get you a job cocktailing at the Roostertail.”
“Well, I’m glad to see you have confidence in me. You automatically assumed they turned me down. I’m sorry to disappoint you mom, but guess what someone out there thinks I am worth something. Yale accepted me, but because of your unbelievable faith in me I missed my deadline!” I turned and stormed out of the room.
“What?” I heard her say as I was headed to my room. I grabbed the phone on my way. I slammed my bedroom door behind me. I’m sure she got the point. I picked up the letter and dialed the number at the top.
“Dean’s office,” a lady answered.
“Yes, hello. My name is Evan Williams. I was needing to speak with the dean.
“One moment please.”
She put me through? That was easy.
“Hello, Ms. Williams I have been waiting to here from you.”
“I’m sorry my mail was misplaced I just opened it last night. I’m know I missed the deadline but I was wondering if there was anyway for me to still attend Yale?”
“Of course Ms. Williams. When can you come for a tour?”
Did he just say of course?
“Um, well…what about the tuition part? When will I need to have my deposit in?” The better question would have been how much, but I decided not to ask.
“It’s all been taken care of. You’re paid up.”
“Excuse me?”
“Your tuition has been paid in full.”
I swear I almost dropped the phone.
“How?” I couldn’t help it. The words escaped my mouth before I caught myself.
“An anonymous giver,” he said.
I sat there on my bed with my eyes wide open and my mouth open even wider.
Who could have possibly have paid my tuition? This had to be a dream. It couldn’t be for real. How was this possible?
Then I was brought back from my unconscious state by the voice on the other end of the phone.
“Ms. Williams are you still there?”
“Yes. I’m still here. I’m sorry I can’t come until fall.”
“We will see you then.”
“Thank you. Goodbye.”
As I hung up the phone it occurred to me. I was leaving. I was really leaving. I was curious as to how, but at the same time I didn’t care. I was leaving Rainwater and I was going to Yale.
Woo Hoo Salvation!
Copyright Ó 2009 Samantha Potts