First. Part 11

"Are you sure, honey? You have to eat something, Emmy. Some toast?" I shook my head. "An egg?" again, shook my head. "A bagel?"

"I'm fine. I'll take something with me." In truth my stomach was in knots, and I was in no way shape or form hungry. I just wanted to get the day over with , and get home in one piece. I poured myself a small gla.s.s of orange juice, and sipped it as I leaned against the counter and stared at them as they stared back.

"I can't believe my baby's all grown up and in high school now." My mother said, her eyes beginning to fill. She grabbed a napkin and dabbed at the corner of her eye.

"I know. I remember when Billy started." Aunt Kitty said, sipping from her coffee. She took a deep breath, then stood. "I better get going, Frankie." She said to my mother. She was the only person on the planet who could get away with calling Francis Thomas Frankie, and living to tell the tale. She leaned down and gave my mom a hug, then turned to me. "Want a ride, kiddo?" A wide grin spread across my face.

"Yeah!" arriving on my first day in a car as opposed to a bus? h.e.l.l, yeah. "Can Beth come, too?"

"Course." She turned back to my mom. "I'll call you later and let you know what I found out, okay?"

"Okay. Talk to you later, honey."

Aunt Kitty turned back to me with one of her winning smiles, and lead the way to the front door.

I was happy to see that Rebecca and I had the three seats to ourselves. I hated being squished between Rebecca and some stranger. My lover always wanted the window seat, and that was fine with me as I usually slept on the plane, anyway.

We got ourselves as comfortable as one could get in a big metal flying tube, and I settled in for a good nap. I listened with closed eyes as the pilots prepped the plane for take off, and the folks around us got settled into their seats, the overhead compartments closing with a quiet click. I took a deep breath as the realization of where we were headed stole over me once again. I thought about Nora Sayers. Was she still even alive? I had not talked to her, nor heard anything about her in at least a dozen years. If she was still there, I wondered if we'd see her at the funeral. Was Jim Sayers going to travel across the country to be there? He hadn't when Beth had been a child, so I could not imagine what would make him change. This was not going to be easy.

Aunt Kitty's car drove up to the front of our high school, and I peered out at it. It was a large red brick building, at least four stories high. It was an old school, one of the oldest in the city. Large, dark windows stared back at me. For just a moment I imagined I saw faces in those windows, staring at me, sizing me up. It was a silly thought, I realized, but I was scared. With a deep breath, I opened the car door. Aunt Kitty stopped me with a hand on my arm. I turned to look at her.

"Hey, you'll do fine, kiddo. You need anything, you don't be afraid to call, okay?" I nodded, and with an air of confidence that I absolutely did not feel, I climbed out of the car followed by my best friend.

Beth and I walked toward the large building, my aunt's car disappearing from sight as we pa.s.sed through the throng of other kids. Groups, couples, singles, any possible combination. I was so glad to have Beth at my side. Part of me wanted to grab her hand. I glanced over at her to see her looking around, gauging people as she went. I was impressed. She actually looked how I wanted to feel. She always looked how I wanted to feel.

"Are you nervous, Em?" she asked out of the side of her mouth.

"Yup." I muttered back. "You?"

"h.e.l.l yeah." She said, smiling at some girl who walked by. I narrowed my eyes and looked up at her. Her eyes were looking around, her body calm and relaxed. She looked like she didn't have a care in the world.

"You're kidding me, right?" I asked, stopping us just outside of the front double doors. She shook her head.

"No. I'm not. I want to get the h.e.l.l out of here." I grinned, and lightly punched her in the shoulder, then moved us on.

High school is thought as this big, bad monster to anyone who has not been there. As an elementary student, the average high school student appears to be like some sort of anomaly, as there were only children, and then there were adults. No way was there anything between these sacred positions.

As a student of middle school, the high school student becomes a G.o.d or G.o.ddess, because they have done the ultimate. They have left childhood, yet are not the enemy as the adult is. They are something to emulate, and want to be.

Now that I was the high school student, I realized just how screwed up my way of thinking had been. Being a teenager was not all that it had been cracked up to be. In other words, being a teen was hard!

PART 5.

MY FRESHMAN YEAR was a month old when I got some bad news.

Sat.u.r.day's in my house were pretty much all the same. I would awake to loud music blaring from the stereo in the living room, generally George Strait trying to persuade some naive young woman that he loved her. Didn't matter the selection, because no matter what it was, my mother would help the singer along by adding her own high-pitched, off-key vocals.

In theory this practice was simply because my mother liked her music, and liked it loud. At seven-thirty in the morning? Right. In realistic terms, this early morning concert was to get me and Billy's b.u.t.ts out of bed to keep her company, or help with the house work. At that point my brother was gone, so only I was privy to the serenade. After awhile I got real good at tuning it out. But one Sat.u.r.day in October, I awoke from the silence.

I raised my head, and looked around my room, focusing on the pile of clothes laying on the floor, then rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. I pulled on a pair of sweats, as the cold October morning met my bare legs, and slipped into my slippers, and headed out of my room. I stood at the top of the stairs, listening. I held my breath so I could hear better; nothing. If I didn't know better, I would have thought no one was home. Running a hand through wild blonde locks, I slowly descended the stairs until I hit the main floor. The living room was just as it had been the night before, the only indication that anyone had been up this morning was the newspaper that sat, still rolled, in the recliner by the door. I looked over to my right and looked into the kitchen. I could just barely see my mother's socked feet from around the corner. I drew my brows and headed in that direction.

"Mom?" I asked as I stood in the kitchen doorway. She sat at the table, one hand on her forehead, the other fingering the tea bag on the saucer next to her coffee cup. She glanced at me with her eyes at the sound of my voice. With a small smile, she beckoned me to her.

"Come here, honey." She said, her voice nasal and thick. She'd been crying.

"What's wrong?" I asked, as I took a tentative step toward her before heading straight into her outstretched arm. She pulled me to her, her head against my stomach as she wrapped her arms around my waist. I placed my hands on her shoulders, and stared down at her, my heart beating wildly in my chest as fear gripped me. "Is dad okay?" I asked. She nodded, but said nothing. "Billy? Is he hurt, did he-"

"No, honey. It's not your brother. He's fine. Dad's fine." She sighed, and pushed me gently away, nodding toward the chair next to hers. I sat and waited expectantly. She took a deep breath, and began to speak.

"Your aunt started noticing some problems about six months ago, and let it go. She never went to a doctor until about a month ago. Have you noticed how much weight Kitty has lost?"

"Yeah. I thought she was on another of her crazy diets. " I grinned. My mother chuckled softly.

"She has been on some wild ones, hasn't she? Remember the only corn diet?" we both laughed as we remembered that even still my aunt would not touch corn after only eating that for five weeks. "But, no that's not the problem. She started to get some bad headaches that nothing would kick, and she is constantly tired. She finally went to the doctor, and they found that she has chronic kidney failure." I drew back in surprise and confusion. What was that? My mother could read my question, and continued. "Aunt Kitty's kidneys are working at about twenty-five percent of where they should be. This has been going on for years, but she had no symptoms, so had no idea."

"Is this bad?" I asked, my voice weak. My mother nodded.

"Yes. Right now they have things basically under control, but it keeps getting worse every time she goes in. The drugs they have her on just won't seem to stop it or slow it down. They are going to start her on dialysis next week."

I could feel my heart sink. I had heard that term before, and knew that it wasn't good. True, people could survive on dialysis for years, but in the early eighties, medicine was not as advanced. I could only stare. "What does that mean for her, mom? How did she get this?" I breathed.

"Well," she took another deep breath and sipped from her tea. "They want to see how this goes for a bit, then they may have to look into transplants. And, she was born with it. It was just never caught until now."

I sat back in my chair, and stared out the window over the sink. Aunt Kitty was far too young for this sort of thing. She was only in her late twenties somewhere. I was never sure just exactly how old she was. But sure as h.e.l.l too young for kidney failure. I turned back to my mother.

"So is this why Aunt Kitty was here so early the day we started school?" she nodded. "What does Ron say about this?"

"Well, he's upset, but can't always be here. Aunt Kitty may have to stay here with us off and on, honey. The Air Force sends Ron all over the place, so she'll be alone a lot. I don't want her to be while she's going through this. We'll just make up a room for her in Billy's old room. I'll need your help, Emmy."

"Of course" I exclaimed. "I would never leave Aunt Kitty alone." My mother smiled at me, and patted my hand that rested on the table.

"Want some breakfast, honey?" I thought about that for a moment, and nodded.

"I guess." My mother started to get up, but I stopped her. "No. Breakfast is on me this morning."

I thought a lot about my aunt, and how I felt about her condition. Aunt Kitty had always seemed so strong, so young, so utterly untouchable by anything bad. The news of her illness definitely put a dent in how I felt about life, and about humans. With just the snap of the fingers, anything could happen. As I walked through the halls of my high school, I looked around at the all the life around me, realizing that there were no certainties. No promise that could not be broken. No one untouchable. I think in that moment, I grew up some, some of the innocents and naive outlook of childhood shedding like a second skin. I also realized that I wasn't going to like the transition from child to adult very much.

As the year progressed I began to concentrate fully on my studies, determined as always to do my very best. As my focus changed, so did my friends. Darla Newman and I did not hang out much, but I found a new group of academic-oriented students who's only goal in school was to receive the highest grades, and conquer the most academic clubs. By the end of my Freshman year, I had been on the honor roll every semester, and had received an award for perfect attendance, as well as being in Honor Society, the English club, FBLA, and every advanced cla.s.s that I was allowed to take. Life was good.

Beth had immediately gone to find out about the school's Drama program, led by Ms. Andy White, a young, beautiful recent college grad, who was determined to whip the nearly non-existent department into shape. The old teacher, Mr. Muller, had been on the verge of retiring for almost ten years, and had not cared one way or the other. So, Ms. White had her work cut out for her.

"Okay, Em. You gotta tell me if this is believable or not," I sat on the dry, winter-browned gra.s.s in the park near our neighborhood, where Beth was rehearsing for the new play about to start in three weeks. She played the play's villain, Nadine Kidd, and was shot at the end of the show. I watched on as she looked at an imaginary character, saying her lines flawlessly as I supplied the lines of the person she talked to as I read off her script. Beth put so much into her role, I actually felt a chill run down my spine in fear from her psychotic part.

"You won't get away with it, Nadine." I said, glancing up at her. She glared at the air in front of her.

"No? Just watch me" she hissed, and tried to walk past the hero.

"Bam!" I yelled out into the cold, quiet afternoon. Beth grabbed at her chest, a look of utter pain and surprise in her blue eyes. She fell to her knees, the hand that did not grip the imaginary wound reaching out for the other character.

"Why?" she breathed, as she fell flat on her face, and remained still. I watched her in awe. How had she gotten so good? With a wide smile, I stood and clapped. Beth rolled over and smiled up at me. "You like?" she asked, and I nodded vigorously.

"Excellent. Had me fooled." Beth reached her hand up, and I grabbed it to help her stand.

"Cool." She took the script from me and read it over to make sure she had everything.

"Your character is such a lunatic." I laughed as we began to head toward the swings. She glanced over at me and smiled.

"I know. Isn't it great? She is such a hoot to play, too. I love being crazy."

"Hey, what was that you said once about being type-cast?" Beth looked down at me as we walked, and stuck her tongue out.

Beth not only starred as the villain, but also co-wrote, and a.s.sistant directed the thing. She had certainly found her niche, and Ms. White had found her helper for the next four years.

Opening night came before we knew it, and I could tell that Beth was nervous as she paced back and forth in my bedroom as I got ready. Her mother had disappeared for two days with her newest boyfriend, so she had no way of getting to the school. My mother had always supported Beth in whatever she did, so she would take us, and stay to watch the show.

"Okay," Beth whispered, having a conversation with herself it seemed. She stared off into s.p.a.ce as she paced, her hands running through her hair, or burying themselves into her pant's pockets, or waving dramatically through the air as she mumbled, and rambled on like a crazy person.

I sat at my mirror, and gave my hair the last finis.h.i.+ng touches, glancing at her reflection off and on as she pa.s.sed by. Beth had always been that way when it came to her art. Sometimes I thought she'd run a bare trail in the carpet as she concentrated. That night was a big one for her, showing the world, well, the school anyway, how well she could act, direct and write all in one shot. I knew in my gut that she would blow them all away, leaving them begging for more. I just with she had that confidence in her own abilities.

I stood from the floor, dressed in a long skirt, and s.h.i.+rt with a sweater over it. It was a cold night in November. I watched her for a moment before I got her attention by calling her name. She glanced up at me, looking like she had forgotten that I was even there.

"It's time." I said happily. She let out a long breath and nodded.

I sat in that dark theater and watched with unimaginable pride as my best friend pranced across that stage, looking bold, unbelievably intimidating in her part as a ruthless villain, and utterly beautiful. Over the past year Beth had filled out, her body catching up with her long legs, and lanky features. Now she carried herself with pride, and a nonchalance that made you stop and watch her go. Her features were chiseled, her eyes burning an incredible incandescent blue that could burn with just one look. Her hair was long, black and s.h.i.+ny. She had gotten away somewhat from the practice of wearing baseball caps all the time. She had threatened to cut her hair at times, but I would've been surprised if she would have. She was striking.

I glanced around me to see other's reactions to the show, and especially Beth who took that stage, and made it her own. I knew her like no one else there, and at first I could tell that she had been terrified. Her eyes wondered often to find me sitting in the very first row. But as the show went on, she gained momentum, and had not tried to find me for some time. She was at home up there.

"You know what I like about the stage the most?" I had shaken my head. "I can go up there, lose myself in my character, and their problem, and forget my own, knowing that whatever is happening to my character, by the end of the thing, everything will be okay. There's nothing like it."

The last scene of the play, and Beth's Nadine was fighting with the lead, Dylon, played by Collin Adams. His gun was out, and with a deafening bang that echoed throughout the auditorium, Beth fell to her knees, reaching for him as he took a step back. She falls, her last breath coming loud and strong before all is quiet. As the red curtain began to close, I could feel my eyes stinging with the unshed tears. Amazing. She was utterly amazing.

Pride surged through me once again as I stood with the other members of the audience, and clapped for all I was worth. The curtain opened again, and the more minor characters ran out onto the stage to take a bow, followed by more important characters, finally Collin Adams, and last, but certainly not least to this audience, Beth Sayers. The clapping was wild, interlaced with shouts and whistles. Beth smiled from ear to ear, her face flushed with excitement. Her eyes scanned the crowd for a moment, then settled on me, and I tried to tell her everything that I could in that look as our eyes locked for just a moment when she stepped back to allow the director, Andy White, to step out on the ap.r.o.n of the stage. The teacher reached back, and grabbed Beth's hand, pulling her out front with her, and raising their joined hands as they bowed together.

I looked over to my mother who looked as proud as she would had Beth been her own daughter. She leaned over to me.

"Nora Sayers should have been here to see this." She whispered. I nodded. "That was incredible!"

My eyes opened, and I found that we were still flying through the air, headed for Colorado. I had no clue where we were, or how far into the flight we were. Only that I was sick of it, and really, really wanted to feel the ground below my feet.

I glanced over at Rebecca to see that she had also nodded off, her unread magazine still open on the tray in front of her. I took a deep breath, and unbuckled my seatbelt, headed to the tiny bathroom.

The door clicked behind me, and I stared into the small mirror above the even smaller sink, and marveled at how the strange, bluish light could warp my features. Running a hand through my hair, I thought of the cast party after the show that Beth had invited me to. I had not wanted to go, the "Drama people" not my group, and I had found them very strange, albeit very accepting. They had enfolded me into their group as one of their own for a night, simply because I was a friend of Beth's. Even though Beth had only been a Freshman, she had made quite a lasting mark for herself already. Many of the seasoned actors were looking to her natural ability for ideas.

The party was held out behind one of the cast member's family farm. An open field with a huge bonfire built up to light the darkness, and warm the chilled air. Loads of beer, and other types of heavy alcohol were abundant. I felt out of place there, and did not like it. I wondered how I had agreed to go in the first place.

I sat off by myself on someone's open tailgate, and watched, an untouched cup of beer in my hand. Beth talked, and laughed with the other's, she even danced off and on with a few. It was obvious to me that she was definitely in her element.

"Hi." I turned to see a guy standing next to the truck, half his face in shadow, the other half dancing orange from the light of the fire. I smiled shyly, but said nothing. "Mind if I sit?" he asked. I thought for a moment. I really did not feel like company, but what the h.e.l.l. I nodded toward the tailgate. "Do you talk?" he grinned as he sat, the truck shaking slightly with the added weight.

"Depends." I said, looking back to the party.

"On?" He asked, sipping from his own cup.

"Who I'm talking to." He grinned, and nodded.

"Fair enough." He was silent for a moment as he watched the party goers. "Why aren't you out there?" he turned back to me. I just shrugged, really wis.h.i.+ng that he would just go away. "You here with someone?"

"Beth." I said, and turned to him. He really was a good looking guy with short, brown hair, clean-cut, mature, angled features. I couldn't tell what color his eyes were.

"Beth" he asked, his brows drawn.

"Yeah. Beth Sayers. She's my best friend. She asked me to come with her."

"Oh." He nodded understanding. "Hey, you want to go take a walk, or something? I don't know about you, but I really don't like parties." I stared at him for a moment, and without a word hopped off the tailgate, leaving my cup where I had been sitting.

"So why are you here?" I asked, as we made our way toward a thicket of trees off to the right. He shrugged.

"Kind of the same reason you are, I suppose." He smiled at me, and reached down for my hand. I glared up at him, taking my hand from his. "Sorry." He said, and tucked his hands into his back pockets. "Wow, look at that." He said after a while, pointing toward the full moon that was directly ahead of us. It was huge and gold, looked like if we were to walk just a bit further, we could touch it. "Let's stop for a sec, and look." He said, placing his hand on my arm. I stopped, and did as he said, my heart pounding slightly, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. I glanced back over my shoulder and realized that I could no longer see the party, only the light from the bonfire above the trees. I turned back to the moon, only to find that I was staring directly at this guys chest. I looked up into his face with questioning eyes. He smiled. "You know, I don't even know your name."

"I think we should be getting back now." I said, starting to turn back the way we'd come, but he tightened his grip on my arm, keeping me where I was.

"Why? Come on, what's your name?"

"No, look, let's go back to the party, and I'll tell you anything you want to know, okay?"

'Nah. I think we should stay here.' He bent down, and before I knew it, he was trying to kiss me, one large hand on the back of my head, holding me to him. I pounded on his chest, trying to get away, but he was a lot bigger than I was. I was suddenly being pushed back toward a tree, his weight holding me against it. I tried to scream around his tongue in my mouth, but it only came out as a muted groan. I was stuck, and realized just how much trouble I was in as I felt how excited he was getting, against my lower stomach. His free hand was all over the place, groping what he could, trying to get under my s.h.i.+rt when suddenly I was met with nothing but the cold night air. I opened my eyes in confusion as I saw him being slammed into the tree across from the one I still leaned against. Beth was in his face, his s.h.i.+rt entwined in her fist.

"I should have your b.a.l.l.s for doing this." She hissed, one hand reaching down to grab his crotch. His eyes squeezed shut in pain as his arms waved uselessly through the air.

"What are you doing?! We were just-"

"We weren't just doing anything. You were just trying to do something very stupid to my best friend." His eyes opened, and he glared at Beth, then over at me, as I stood, and ran a shaking hand down my sweater to try and calm myself. "Look at me, you f.u.c.ker, not her." Wide, frightened eyes turned back on her. "You do anything this stupid again, and I will have your b.a.l.l.s. You got it?" he nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. She let go of his s.h.i.+rt, and punched him in the stomach. He doubled over with a groan, then turned to run. I watched him go, my breathing heavy, yet labored as the fear of what almost happened turned to the shock of what could have happened. The next thing I knew, I was enveloped in a strong, warm embrace. I clung to Beth, the tears finally coming to wet the front of her s.h.i.+rt. She caressed my hair, whispering soothing words into the late, quiet night.

Finally getting myself under control, I pulled away from her, wiping my eyes with the backs of my hands. She held me by my shoulders, staring down into my face.

"You okay, Em?" she asked, running her finger under my eye to catch a last tear that was trying to slip out. I nodded numbly. "I had seen you talking to him, then when I saw you were gone, your cup on the tailgate, I had a bad feeling." She whispered, fear was.h.i.+ng over her features. "If anything would have happened to you, I never would have forgiven myself." Her voice broke on the last word. I reached up and cupped the side of her face.

"Nothing happened, thanks to you. I'm fine, Beth." She nodded, but I could still see the guilt written all over her face. "It's okay."

"That guy is known as an a.s.shole. I should of gone over to you sooner. I'm sorry."

"Hey, it's okay." I drew her to me, this time comforting her. "I'm okay." I whispered into her shoulder.

I stared at myself again in small mirror as the toilet whooshed to life behind me. I had always wondered just what Beth had done to that guy later. Whenever I saw him in the halls at school, he had gone out of his way to go down another hall, or duck into a near-by door. I chuckled to myself, and opened the bathroom door, headed back toward our seats.

"Everything okay?" Rebecca asked as I sat down, and re-buckled my seatbelt.

"Yeah. Fine." I smiled. She returned the smile, and placed her hand over mine, squeezing it gently before she entwined our fingers in her lap, and shut her eyes again.