Wednesday, January 10, 2018

The Letter - Chapter 29

It was 7:00 PM on the Monday after my father got himself arrested – at a vigil to protest violence, of all things.  He met with his lawyer this morning to discuss the status of the custody case, but he wouldn’t say how the meeting went.  I was just getting started on my math homework when my cell phone rang.  I looked at the screen to see if it was Liz or anyone else I wanted to talk to.  It was just a number – not anyone on my contact list.  Nevertheless, the number looked sort of familiar.  Answering would at least be a momentary distraction from doing my homework.

“Hello,” I said.


“Hello, Sylvia?” 

Where had I heard that voice before?  A boy.  Maybe that Neanderthal, Terry Morrison pranking me?  “Uh, I’m sorry.  I think you have the wrong number.”  I got ready to hang up.

“Wait!  Isn’t this Sylvia Barrett?  The high school teacher?”

Then I recognized the voice.  “Jeff?”

“Yeah, it’s me, Jeff Radakovic.  Thanks for not hanging up.”

“Sure.  You had me puzzled for a moment.  What’s up?”

“Well, I have some news, and thought you might appreciate it.  I told some of my teammates, and their reaction was, well . . . they sort of accused me of being a dork.”

“I can’t imagine they’d say that about the best player on their team.”

“That’s hardly me.  I’ve just been lucky our last few games.”

“So what’s your news?”

“Remember, after the game, I uh, told you I was going to try out for our high school musical?”

“Sure, Jeff.  West Side Story, right?”

“Yeah, good memory Jennifer.  Anyway, I got picked for a part.  I mean, that’s my news.”

I smiled.  I had thought he was such a cool jock.  But he sounded kind of shy and awkward on the other end of the phone.  “What part did you get?  Tony?”

Jeff laughed.  “No.  You’ve obviously never heard me sing.  And this is my first venture on the stage.  I mean, I can carry a tune, but the big parts went to guys that have been doing this kind of thing for a while.”

“Officer Krupke?” I giggled.

Jeff laughed.  “Actually, that’s a pretty big part, but no.”
 
I thought of his curly blond hair.  “Then you’ve got to be a Jet, right?”

“Yeah.  They cast me as Action.  I watched the movie over the weekend.  Action actually gets to sing a little on the Officer Krupke song.”

“Jeff, that’s great.  When will you guys be performing?”

“Late April.  I’m not sure of the dates yet.  Will you come to see it?”

“I’d love to – if I can.”  I told him about the custody fight with mom.  “So I’m not sure where I’ll be in late April.”

“What about early March?  Like the 11th?”

“Uh, I’m a little confused, Jeff.  What about March 11th?”

“Um, I’m not doing this very well.  So let me just straightaway ask.  Would you consider going to TJ’s Spring Semi-Formal with me?  It’s a Saturday night.”

“Jeff.  Are you asking me out on a date?”

“Yeah, I mean, sort of – just as a friend.  I mean, I’m not dating anyone and I wasn’t sure I was even going to go, but then I thought of you, and we could just go as friends.  Uh, I’m sorry.  Maybe you’re dating someone.  Are you?”

I was glad he couldn’t see me blush.  No Jeff, I’m not dating anyone.  And as far as the Semi-formal, I’d love to go – but I can’t give you a guarantee that I’ll be able.  I might be stranded out in Sewickley.  So maybe you should ask another, uh, friend.”

“No, that’s okay.  Maybe I can get my dad to let me drive to Sewickley to pick you up.”

“That’s a pretty long drive, Jeff.

“Yeah, well, maybe I can convince one of them to drive out to get you.  Or maybe meet you halfway.  I’ll bet we can work something out.”

“I’ll look forward to it.” Just then a thought occurred to me.  Uh, speaking of forward, as in being a bit forward, Bethel is having its dance this coming Saturday.  I wasn’t going to go, but . . ..”

“Sure, Jennifer.  I’m not doing anything this Saturday.  I wouldn’t need a tuxedo or anything, would I?”

“No, it’s semi-formal.  I mean, it’s called The Sweetheart Dance, but we’d just be going as friends, right?”  I felt my heart quicken.  Calm down, Jennifer.  This is crazy!  “I apologize for the short notice.  You sure you don’t have a game or something?”

“Nope.  Our games are mostly Tuesdays and Fridays.”  He sounded more relaxed.  “So I heard that your dad was on TV.”

“That’s right,” I said, happy to move on to a less stressful subject.  “He got arrested, but no charges were filed.”

“He was supporting a good cause.  At least that’s what I think.  I mean, I go deer hunting with my dad, but I can’t believe people can so easily get their hands on guns designed to massacre people.  That’s just plain nuts.”

“I agree.  My dad’s decided to get more active in that group that organized the vigil.”

“Good for him.  You know, my aunt from Seattle was in town last week.  She was a little disappointed that your father didn’t show up at my game.  Apparently, she wrote a letter inviting him to come.  But she said that his decision to go to that vigil was the right choice.”

“What?  She sent him another letter?”

“Yeah, she said he should have gotten it like a week before my game.”

“That’s funny.  He never mentioned it to me.  Not that he’d have to tell me about it, but given the mystery of the first letter, it seems odd that he would have gotten another and not mentioned it to me.  Is she still at your house?”

“No, she rented a car and drove to Cleveland where her son lives.  He’s a doctor.  She’s there for a few days and then back to Seattle.”

“Hmm.  Well, I’ll mention this to my father and let you know what he says.”

“Well, I’d better go.  I haven’t started my homework yet.”

“I was just starting mine.  Thank you for calling, Jeff.  I really enjoyed talking with you.”

“Yeah, me too.  I guess I’ll see you Saturday evening.  A suit’s good then?”

“A suit or a sport coat.  I’ll text you my address.  The dance starts at seven.”

“I’ll pick you up around 6:30.  Goodnight, Jennifer.”

“Goodnight, Jeff.  I ended the call, stood up, did a triple twirl and flopped onto my bed smiling at the ceiling. After a few seconds, I leaped up, grabbed my phone and hit the speed dial for Liz.

“Liz?  Guess who’s going to the Sweetheart Dance?”

“Jen.  That’s great!  Petey finally got up the nerve to ask you.”


“Petey who?  I’m going with the star basketball player from Thomas Jefferson!”

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