The Sparkle in Her Eyes Plus Six More Short Stories by Aileen Friedman - HTML preview

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5.

 

'Hi Yvaine, gosh don't you look lovely!'

Sharene arrived at the table. I remembered her now. Jordan also arrived, and I was relieved that I remembered him too. They all said the same thing when first laying eyes on me and I wondered why it was that the lasting memories we have of our classmates are those from the last few months of school, particularly from the matric dance onwards. Jordan offered to get drinks for all of us at the table and left with Sharene's husband. I had to admit I was beginning to relax and enjoy the memory lane we were all travelling down together. I had forgotten a lot of the good memories.

'You keep checking your phone, is everything okay?' Sharene asked, the others waiting in anticipation for my reply.

I sighed. I suppose it was that obvious and also it did not help to hide the truth, they all knew what had happened to me.

'It's Gretha, the lady that saved my life. She is dying. I only found out when I arrived here.'

I stopped speaking, my throat was too clogged up to carry on.

'Oh Yvaine, that's terrible. Why are you here and not with her?'

'She told me to come. I wanted to stay with her, but she wouldn't have it. Kept going on about forgiveness.'

'Tate. Edie. Dario.' Sharene hesitated between their names.

'I guess so. But I'd rather not see them at all. I nearly didn't come tonight because of them.'

'Well you did, and you are stunning Yvaine.'

I was flattered. I honestly had not seen myself as such, but then they had last seen me when I was in the depths of despair, so it was no wonder they thought now I looked better. Jordan returned with our drinks and as he sat he kindly informed me that Tate and Edie had arrived.

Immediately I started to rev up into panic mode but then Sharene said, 'Think of Gretha,' and patted my hand.

Yes! That's what I had to do. I had nothing to fear from them, and as I had been told a million times, "That was the past, they did not destroy you."

Minister Caldew came to mind when I thought of that, along with a great deal of gratitude.

Remember what he said to you all those times, "With the grace of God you can overcome anything," I told myself once more.

Being the only person at the table without a partner left me alone when they all got up to dance when a favourite song came on, but I sat quietly and continued my trip down memory lane…

***

I was still running, my feet were cut and bruised from the stones on the road, but I still ran. I was not much of an athlete, but the adrenaline drove me further and further. Dario pulled up in his car and ordered me to get in, but I refused. I kept running until he eventually pulled the car over, got out and caught up to me, grabbing me by my arm and forcing me into the car. I huddled in the seat and leaned against the door, shivering, unaware of where Dario was taking me until we stopped at a house.

'Where are we?' I managed to squeak.

'A party, you need a distraction.'

'Just take me home.'

'No,' he said emphatically.

I looked a mess; my hair was wet and frizzed, and my makeup was smudged all over my face. I looked like a Halloween freak.

'I can't go in like this,' I pleaded as we reached the door.

'You can clean up in there,' he said and pushed the door open.

I walked into the house trying to hide behind Dario. People were sprawled about everywhere, over couches, on chairs, on the floor. They were just chilling and listened to music that I did not recognise. He led me to the bathroom where I loosened my hair and washed my face, crying all the time. The image of those two in the tent fixated in my mind. Dario tapped on the door and enquired as to whether I was going to come out at some stage. It had crossed my mind to remain in there. When I finally did, he ushered me into the lounge and gave me a glass of wine that I refused at first. Everyone got on my case encouraging me to drink it.

"It will make you feel better," and, "It will help you forget," were some of the things I got told. Feeling cornered I swallowed the wine in one gulp and almost immediately my glass got refilled. And this happened several times. They were right, though, I did feel better, I had no idea what I was feeling, but it wasn't anguish or pain. I took whatever it was that they gave me to eat or drink after a while. My head was spinning, and I felt out of control, but I was also exhilaratingly happy. I just wanted to feel like this forever.

When Dario took me home at some unearthly hour of the morning, I threw up in his car, on the pavement and again in the house. I woke up later in the day to a massive headache, a reminder of what had gone down the previous night. My parents were somewhere in the house, and I remained in my room thinking it best to avoid them. I began to feel the heartache all over again as I lay on my bed, trying with all my might to understand why Tate and Edie had done what they did and how I was going to face them at school on Monday. How was I going to face anyone when they all knew about my humiliation?

I snuck silently to the kitchen hoping there was some leftover food lying around. After a small meal of chicken and pasta, I opened the cupboard where the alcohol was kept. I stood there deliberating, and while I stood there I smelt myself – gosh I stank, I needed a shower. Perhaps the alcohol should wait. Hygiene first.

I was barely out of the shower when my mother yelled at me from the lounge; apparently I had a phone call.

'Hello?' I said when I was sure my mother had put down the extension, trembling with the fear that it could be Tate or Edie.

'How you feeling?'

'Dario, um…Hello. I'm not sure yet.'

'Fetch you in half an hour.'

'No, wait...'

But he had hung up. Why on earth was he so interested in my life suddenly? Since he'd arrived at our school three years ago, he had never paid any attention to me. I got ready nevertheless. We went back to the house from the previous evening. Everyone was still, or again, sprawled out wherever there was a spot. The wine was already flowing, and I drank it eagerly. Later other alcohol appeared and I smoked something, but I didn't know what and ate cookies that were delicious. I was so incredibly high, and everything seemed blissful again. How I got back into my house without my parents suspecting a thing I had no idea.

I felt so lost at school the next day. Usually, Tate, Edie and I met at our spot in the courtyard, but because I had no other close friends what was I supposed to do and where was I supposed to go until school started? I had no idea how I would or should react when I came face to face with the both of them. I heard people snickering as I walked past and saw the way they looked at me – everyone was on a gossiping hype over the whole affair. I slumped along to my registration class in the hope that it'd be open, and I might escape the masses. En route Dario caught up with me, another person I would have preferred to avoid.

'How you feeling?' he asked with a sarcastic smirk on his face.

'Oh just peachy.'

'Here,' he said offering me a small cloth bag.

To everyone else it looked like a small material handbag and probably would be admired by most women, but I knew what was in it. A small bottle of vodka.

'No one will smell it on your breath.'

'Why?'

'Dutch courage,' he said and continued to walk with me in silence until we reached my classroom.

I had just enough time to put my bags down on my desk before the bell rang. I took off my jersey, leaving my blazer on, and wrapped the bottle in it, placing it in my school bag before closing it securely. But not before taking a huge gulp.

'Dutch courage,' I said offering the bottle to Dario.

We both chewed vigorously on gum on our way to the hall. The school, still very strict on tradition, had the boys sit on the left and the girls on the right. I always sat next to Edie. I shuffled through the side door and found the first chair closest to the door – all eyes fixated on me; I could feel it. I thought how good another swig of that vodka would be right now. I never looked anywhere but directly in front of me or at my hands resting on my legs. It was impossible to clear my mind and think rationally. The dagger that jabbed in my heart was so fierce along with the humiliation I felt, and the tears flowed silently. The only way I was going to get through the day was with the help of that bottle of vodka.

When it was over, I vanished from the assembly hall like lightning and rushed to my classroom. Edie would have to find another seat; she was most definitely not going to sit next to me. I waited nervously, my stomach in knots for her arrival. Then I changed my mind and moved to the back of the class, to the corner desk, hidden from all the eyes. I wished I was permitted to wear sunglasses not only to avoid everyone's stares but also to hide the red, puffy bags around my eyes. Edie walked in, and I gasped and looked down at my shoes, resting my head on the desk. The class was deathly silent. An explosion was imminent, and everyone held their breaths in anticipation. Our register teacher was giving a lecture of some sort about the upcoming final exams, and I wanted to choke on my panic. How was I expected to write exams in this state? The buzz of the intercom interrupted my inner hysteria.

'Edie Ashdown and Tate Kestell report to Mr Joubert's office immediately.'

The hush in the classroom erupted into a hoard of “yeahs” and “ooohs” and surprisingly to me; there were a lot of comments about expulsion, not directed at me. It then dawned on me that perhaps I was the victim here and that people were, in fact, sympathetic to my pain. Alas, it did not appease my desire to slither away and never be seen again. During the day, I heard many rumours about what had happened in the principal's office, but they meant nothing to me, and I only wanted to drown my sorrows and fill the void in my heart. The first opportunity I had, I dashed for the bathroom and downed a large amount of vodka, waited for a few seconds and then sent another swig down my throat.

'Dutch courage,' I told myself again.

The inevitable confrontation was around the corner at first break when I wandered sluggishly toward a bench and sat down before I fell from my spinning head. A shadow appeared in front of me and when I looked up there stood Tate and Edie, holding hands. Rage replaced the alcohol and overcame the anguish. Tate opened his mouth to say something but I replaced it with my fist, and before Edie could retaliate she found the other side of my hand flat on her cheek. I was fuming, no, that is too calm an expression, I was in a furious frenzy, screaming and shouting filthy obscenities, crying and trying to assault them physically in any way possible. I didn't hear a word they were trying to say; they didn't have much chance at saying anything, and all I knew was that killing them at this point would be greatly satisfying. Hysteria, wild fanatical hysteria burst from the hole in my heart, and I flung anything and everything I could lay my hands on at them, including a rock lying next to the bench that just skimmed Tate's head. Before I was able to do any serious damage, unfortunately, two prefects restrained me, forcing me to sit back on the bench once more. My chest was heaving, and I was completely out of breath, and then I fainted, waking up a half an hour later in the sick room.

***

My table guests arrived back at the table panting from dancing to the very fast songs. They guzzled their drinks and Jordan, and Sharene's husband made their way back to the bar for another round.

'Sure you only want orange juice?' Sharene's husband asked me.

'Definitely,' I replied, and Sharene gave him a stern look as he left.