Tuesday, June 2, 2015

"No Matter What": The Letter, part 2 (excerpt)



            As I crawled into bed, my open spiral notebook caught my eye.  Near the bottom of the page, I saw my name, signed “Jay C. McGee.”  I paused.  The first clear thought of the afternoon shot through my mind: Did I really sign my name using my INITIAL?!
            The fog began to dissipate quickly as I remembered what I had done.  I remembered being so proud of it, but I struggled to remember exactly what I had written.  With a shaky hand, I reached for the notebook and began to read.

            The first time I saw you was in the sixth grade.  I bumped into you in the lunch line and you looked back at me and smiled.  I was hooked.
            Hooked?  My heart throbbed in my chest.  That’s exactly what you want to do, Jay, set yourself up as a deranged, addicted psychopath in the very first sentence.
            My eyes frantically skimmed down the page to the next section of the letter.  I could feel every follicle on the top of my head, and a tingle crawled down the back of my neck.  Another sentence caught my eye.
            I have learned that you are just as beautiful on the inside as you are on the outside.
            I gasped for air.  I could feel my sandwich threatening to come back up my throat.  Now you’re not just a psychopath.  You’re a psychopath who writes like you were fired from Hallmark.  I could see my infant social life flashing before my eyes.
            I read the next sentence.
            I’ve got an idea for a day that will be fun for us both no matter what.
            NO MATTER WHAT?!!  I threw the notebook across the room.
            “FffsshhjyaaAAA!!” I screamed, in too much anguish to manage an intelligible profanity.  I buried my face in my pillow.  “What have I done?”
            Tears were in my eyes when I raised my head from my pillow.  But through the tears—and out the window of my bedroom—I could make out the shape of the mail truck driving by my house.
            I tripped over my own goofy long legs as I leapt from my bed and out the door of my bedroom.  I skipped the last half of the staircase, landing hard on the foyer tile before nearly breaking the front screen door as I burst through.
            As I sprinted down the block, the strap of one of my sandals broke, propelling the shoe end over end onto a neighbor’s lawn.  But I kept my eyes fixed on the mail truck, driving slowly down the street ahead of me.  And despite the burning on the bottom of my bare left foot, I was gaining on it.           
            Finally, the truck pulled to a stop at the mailbox for the next block.  I caught up to it just as the mailman was stepping out of the door.  As I stood there, doubling over and gasping for breath, he scowled at me.  Wisps of red hair escaped from all sides of his U.S. Postal Service hat.  He cheeks were cratered with acne scars.  When he opened his mouth to speak, I could see a full half-inch gap between his two front teeth.  “So what do you want, kid?” he grumbled.
            “I need…” I swallowed hard to regain my breath.  “Can I get a letter back?”
            “Nope.”
            I couldn’t help but whine.  “But it’s my letter and I don’t want to send it anymore.”
            “I can’t do it,” the postal worker said flatly.  “I could get into trouble.”
            As I gasped for air, I couldn’t help but despise the man.  He was built like bean bag chair.  I closed my eyes to collect myself and be polite.
            Slowly and quietly, I lowered my voice and stated, “You don’t understand, sir, how important it is that I get this letter back.  Could you please help me out?”
            The mail carrier pulled at his stubbly second chin as he stared back at me as I pleaded with my eyes.  “I’ll give you a second to look in there and find it, but I do need to see some ID from you.”
            “Why?”
            “To match it to the name on the return address, of course.  You did have a return address, didn’t you?”
            The long walk back to the house felt like a death march.  I opened the front door slowly.  Roger was there waiting for me.  I just walked past him and started up the stairs.
            “What was that all about?”  Roger called behind me as I moped up the stairs.  “Hey, who died?”
            “Me.”
            “What?  Jay!  Why were you chasing a mail truck?  Did you do something stupid last night?”
            “I gotta get ready.”  I closed the door behind me and picked up my summer basketball jersey.  My weekly game started in two hours.
*  *  *  *  *
            That game was the only public appearance I could muster that week.  As the days passed and I became more and more certain Nicole Ellis had read the letter, the sickness in my stomach grew.
            I only decided at the last minute to even go to my next game.  But when I walked into that gym and that smell of rubber and lingering sweat hit my nose, I knew I was ready to play.
            On rested legs and newfound energy, I cut through, stepped around, and shot over the defense with deadly accuracy.  The clammy self-consciousness that had covered my body all week melted away under the warmth of my sweat and hot shooting touch.
            With nine seconds left in the game, I took the ball with my team up by two.  I was fouled quickly and went to the foul line with the chance to put the game on ice.  Cool and collected, I stared down and nailed the first free throw.  The next one would seal the game.
            After spending way too much time of my summer league games with one eye in the bleachers, I focused completely on the rim.  I had tunnel vision.  Nothing could break my concentration now.  Nothing… except Nicole Ellis walking across the baseline.  She had just entered through the door near the left corner of the floor and was walking over to join people sitting in the right bleachers.  The ball bounced off the left side of the rim. 
            I didn’t hear a word of what Coach Mike said during the timeout.  The self-conscious feeling came back, now aided by my perspiration to make me feel cold and slimy all over.
            When the other team’s desperation three-pointer bounced off the back iron and the game ended, I just stood at midcourt.  For the first time all summer, I longed for the hour-long postgame meeting that would follow a regular season game.  Instead, all I got from Mike after the game as a pat on the back and a “Nice game, McGee.”
            I lingered as long as I could at midcourt and around the bench, making small talk with my teammates and helping the equipment manager pick up water bottles.  I made sure to keep my eyes away from the doom that awaited me in the stands.
            Eventually, all the water bottles were put up and all the towels were gathered, and I finally turned to face the bleachers.  They were empty.  I turned my head wildly, scanning the gym, but she was nowhere to be seen.  I jogged out to the parking lot in time to see her drive by with two other girls.  She smiled and waved.  I waved back and watched her drive away.
            As I drove home, my head pounded with confusion.  She had to have gotten the letter by now.  It had been a week.  My thoughts flooded on the way home…
            Why didn’t she say anything? 
            Maybe she was just being nice. 
            Maybe she gets so many love letters she just throws them out without reading them like junk mail. 
            No, that’s stupid. 
            She must have read it. 
            But she acted the same as she would have otherwise. 
            Maybe she decided to ignore it.
            “She probably already knew,” I said out loud as I searched for the key to unlock the door to the house.  I stopped and smiled.  She had to already know I liked her.  I wasn’t exactly smooth or subtle.  That’s why she acted like nothing was different.
            A lightness came over my body as I felt the freedom of my revelation.  She knew I liked her all along.  She was nice to me anyway.  Why would that change now?  But I had taken my shot.  The door was finally shut on Nicole Ellis. 
            I practically skipped into the kitchen. 
            Roger was there, smirking and holding a stack of mail. 
            His smirk building to a laugh, he tossed something onto the table.  A familiar white envelope skidded across the table toward me.
            “You might want to wear your glasses the next time you try to read in the dark, you near-sighted dork,” Roger laughed.
            I held my breath as I flipped over the envelope.  On top of the handwritten words “Nicole Ellis” was a stamp from the post office.  It was a red stamp of a pointing hand with a message printed below.
            RETURN TO SENDER.  NO SUCH ADDRESS.

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