"Because Ive prayed for that, too."
With that, Roger and some of the others began to crowd around us. A few of the other kids ignored us and moved closer to the television now that there were free seats in the front row. Jamie introduced me to one of the older kids whod come up and asked if I was her boyfriend. By his tone, I think that he had the same opinion of Jamie that most of the kids in our high school had.
"Jamie!" he shouted happily when he saw her, and all of a sudden all the other heads turned. The kids ranged in age from about five to twelve, more boys than girls. After twelve they had to be sent to live with foster parents, I later learned.
"I dont know," I said, shrugging. "Maybe Ill be a one-armed lumberjack."
We walked down the corridors to the end of the hall, where two doors opened into a good-size room. Perched in the far corner was a small television with about thirty metal folding chairs placed all around it. The kids were sitting in the chairs, crowded around it, and you could tell that only the ones in the front row had a good view of the thing.
Jamie thought carefully about my answer, really pondering the way I said it, though I didnt know why.
"Amazing." It was the only word she could get out. She didnt know the details, but she knew I must have been boxed into a corner to do something like this. Mothers always know stuff like that, and I could see her peering closely at me and trying to figure it out. To escape her inquisitive gaze, I checked my watch, feigned surprise, and casually mentioned to Jamie that wed better be going. My mom got the car keys from her pocketbook and handed them to me, still giving me the once-over as we headed out the door. I breathed a sigh of relief, imagining that Id somehow gotten away with something, but as I walked Jamie to the car, I heard my mothers voice again.
"I think you should become a minister," she said seriously. "I think youre good with people, and theyd respect what you have to say."
"Hes just a friend," she said. "But hes very nice."
Thats how I knew what he was thinking.
At that moment, Mr. Jenkins opened the door and invited us in. The office looked almost like a hospital room, with black-and-white tiled floors, white walls and ceilings, a metal cabinet against the wall. Where the bed would normally have been, there was a metal desk that looked like it had been stamped off the assembly line. It was almost neurotically clean of anything personal. There wasnt a single picture or anything.
"I am, too."
Jamie smiled, and after a moment she changed the subject, sort of throwing me off track. "Do you ever think about the future, Landon?" she asked.
"Well have a small tree and a few gifts-something that all of them can share. "Youre welcome tovisit Christmas Eve. . . ."
Even mothers could stick it to you sometimes.
"Well, youll get married someday. Youll meet some guy and the two of you will hit it off, and hell ask you to marry him. And Im sure that your father will be happy to walk you down the aisle."
The first thing we did was talk to Miss Garber about our plans for the orphans, and she thought it was a marvelous idea. That was her favorite word, by the way-marvelous-after shed greeted you with "Hellooooo." On Monday, when she realized that I knew all my lines, she said, "Marvelous!" and for the next two hours whenever Id finish up a scene, shed say it again. By the end of the rehearsal, Id heard it about four zillion times.
"Come on over anytime, Jamie!" my mom shouted. "Youre always welcome here."
"So this was your idea?" my mom asked. Like everyone else in town, she knew Jamie didnt lie.
She was quiet for a long time, and I looked at her. Seeing Jamie feeling bad was almost worse than feeling bad because of her. Unlike Jamie, I deserved to feel bad about myself-I knew what kind of person I was. But with her . . .
No doubt it was the fanciest home shed ever been in. A moment later I saw her eyes travel to the paintings that lined the walls. My ancestors, so to speak. As with many southern families, my entire lineage could be traced in the dozen faces that lined the walls. She stared at them, looking for a resemblance, I think, then turned her attention to the furnishings, which still looked practically new, even after twenty years. The furniture had been handmade, assembled or carved from mahogany and cherry, and designed specifically for each room. It was nice, I had to admit, but it wasnt something I really thought about. To me, it was just a house. My favorite part of it was the window in my room that led to the porch on the upper level. That was my escape hatch.
Before we went to the orphanage for our meeting, we had to walk to my house to pickup my moms car, and while there, I planned on changing into something a little nicer. The walk took about ten minutes or so, and Jamie didnt say much along the way, at least until we got to my neighborhood. The homes around mine were all large and well kept, and she asked who lived where and how old the houses were. I answered her questions without much thought, but when I opened the front door to my house, I suddenly realized how different this world was compared with her own. She had a shocked expression on her face as she looked around the living room, taking in her surroundings.
"I hope so," she said finally.
I think I told you that every adult in town adored Jamie, and that included my mom. Even though Hegbert was always giving the kinds of sermons that had our familys name written all over them, my mom never held it against Jamie, because of how sweet she was. So they talked while I was upstairs rifling through my closet for a clean shirt and a tie.
I started the engine. "Yeah," I said, "I guess so."
Jamie turned away and got a far-off gaze in her eyes, making me wonder what she was thinking, but it vanished almost as quickly as it came.
Jamie turned to me and smiled. She knew there wasnt much to add after that, but I could tell she was still wondering what she was going to do for them that Christmas.
"Oh," I said, "I do. Im practically the luckiest guy alive."
"Why is this Christmas so important?" I asked her, and she smiled patiently, as if Id asked a question that didnt really matter.
After we said our good-byes, Jamie and I walked in silence without saying anything. I could tell she was sad. The more I hung around Jamie, the more I realized she had lots of different emotions-she wasnt always cheerful and happy. Believe it or not, that was the first time I recognized that in some ways she was just like the rest of us.
But Miss Garber actually went our idea one better. She told the class what we were doing, and she asked if other members of the cast would be willing to do their parts as well, so that the orphans could really enjoy the whole thing. The way she asked meant that they really didnt have a choice, and she looked around the class, waiting for someone to nod so she could make it official. No one moved a muscle, except for Eddie. Somehow hed inhaled a bug up his nose at that exact moment, and he sneezed violently. The bug flew out his nose, shot across his desk, and landed on the floor right by Norma Jeans leg. She jumped out of her chair and screamed out loud, and the people on either side of her shouted, "Eww . . . gross!" The rest of the class started looking around and craning their necks, trying to see what happened, and for the next ten seconds there was total pandemonium in the classroom. For Miss Garber, that was as good of an answer as she needed.
"Seven years now. I was ten years old the first time I came. I was younger than a lot of the kids here."
We stood in the doorway for just a second. We hadnt been noticed yet, and I asked what the newspapers were for.
"I just wanted to do something different for them this year. Something special that they would remember forever. I thought for sure this was it. . . ." She sighed. "The Lord seems to have a plan that I just dont know about yet."
I showed her around, though, giving her a quick tour of the sitting room, the library, the den, and the family room, Jamies eyes growing wider with each new room. My mom was out on the sun porch, sipping a mint julep and reading, and heard us poking around. She came back inside to say hello.
"You will. Theyre easy once you know you all the words."
"Would you visit them with me?" she asked suddenly.
"Are these all the toys they have?" I asked.
Somehow she didnt catch the sarcastic tone of my voice.
I cleared my throat, thinking of Eric and what I still wanted to do to him. It involved molasses and fire ants, by the way.
Jamie introduced me, and I shook Mr. Jenkinss hand. After we sat down, Jamie did most of the talking. They were old friends, you could see that right off, and Mr. Jenkins had given her a big hug as soon as shed entered. After smoothing out her skirt, Jamie explained our plan. Now, Mr. Jenkins had seen theplay a few years back, and he knew exactly what she was talking about almost as soon as she started. But even though Mr. Jenkins liked Jamie a lot and knew she meant well, he didnt think it was a good idea.
I glanced around. In the corner was an old Ping-Pong table. The surface was cracked and dusty, the net nowhere to be seen. A couple of empty Styrofoam cups sat on top of it, and I knew it hadnt been used in months, maybe years. Along the wall next to the Ping-Pong table were a set of shelves, with a few toys here and there-blocks and puzzles, a couple of games. There werent too many, and the few that were there looked as if theyd been in this room for a long time. Along the near walls were small individual desks piled with newspapers, scribbled on with crayons.
Back then boys wore ties a lot, especially when they were meeting someone in a position of authority. When I came back down the stairs fully dressed, Jamie had already told my mom about the plan.
The next step was to talk it over with Mr. Jenkins, the director of the orphanage. Now Id never met Mr. Jenkins before, being that the orphanage was in Morehead City, which was across the bridge from Beaufort, and Id never had any reason to go there. When Jamie surprised me with the news the following day that wed be meeting him later that evening, I was sort of worried that I wasnt dressed nice enough. I know it was an orphanage, but a guy wants to make a good impression. Even though I wasnt as excited about it as Jamie was (no one was as excited as Jamie), I didnt want to be regarded as the Grinch who ruined Christmas for the orphans, either.
She practically glowed when she spoke. Though she wasnt saying it to make me feel guilty, that was exactly the way I felt. It was one of the reasons it was so hard to put up with her, but by then I was getting fairly used to it. She could twist you every way but normal, Id come to learn.
I didnt mention the part about having a big crowd in the church. I guess it was the one thing that even I couldnt imagine.
"Its a wonderful idea," Jamie said, beaming at me. "Landons really got a special heart."
"Im sorry it didnt work out," I said softly.
"It just is," she said simply.
She didnt think it was funny.
"You should count your blessings."
"Yes," she said. "Thats all I want."
Jamie and I finally walked into the room, and one of the kids turned around at the sound of our steps. He was about eight or so, with red hair and freckles, his two front teeth missing.
I was startled by her question because it sounded . . . so ordinary.
We got to the orphanage just about the time it was getting dark. We were a couple of minutes early, and the director was on the phone. It was an important call and he couldnt meet with us right away, so we made ourselves comfortable. We were waiting on a bench in the hallway outside his door, when Jamie turned to me. Her Bible was in her lap. I guess she wanted it for support, but then again, maybe it was just her habit.
He didnt even have to finish. Jamie put her hands to her mouth. "Oh my," she said right away, "youre right. I hadnt thought about that."
Neither had I, to tell you the truth. But it was obvious right off the bat that Mr. Jenkins made sense.
"Thanks," I said. "I dont know if Ill do that, but Im sure Ill find something." It took a moment for me to realize that the conversation had stalled and that it was my turn to ask a question.
While we were walking back to the car, I said, "Theyre a nice bunch of kids." I shrugged awkwardly. "Im glad that you want to help them."
"Yeah, sure. I guess so," I answered cautiously.
"I dont think its a good idea," he said.
"Both. Some of the children here came from really horrible situations. Its enough to break your heart when you hear about it. But when they see you come in with some books from the library or a new game to play, their smiles just take all the sadness away. Its the greatest feeling in the world."
"Even though its a wonderful offer and I know youd like to do something special, the play is about a father who eventually comes to realize how much he loves his daughter." He let that sink in for a moment and picked up the pencil again. "Christmas is hard enough around here without reminding the kids of what theyre missing. I think that if the children see something like that . . ."
Over the next hour, we visited with the children. I got a lot of questions about where I lived and whether my house was big or what kind of car I owned, and when we finally had to leave, Jamie promised that shed be back soon. I noticed that she didnt promise I would be with her.
Jamie, meanwhile, was getting really excited about performing for the orphans. During a break in rehearsals she pulled me aside and thanked me for thinking of them. "Theres no way you would know," she said almost conspiratorially, "but Ive been wondering what to do for the orphanage this year. Ive been praying about it for months now because I want this Christmas to be the most special one of all."
"I hope so."
"Thanks," I said, feeling proud and dejected at exactly the same time. "I still havent learned my beats, though," I offered. There was no way we could practice those on the porch, and I hoped she wasnt going to suggest it.
When she said it, I thought we were heading into a discussion about the power of prayer and faith, but Jamie tossed yet another curveball at me.
"You will," she said.
"Thats all?" Though I wasnt averse to the idea of marriage, it seemed kind of silly to hope for that as your lifes goal.
"How do you know?"
"Theyll be in the rec room now. Thats where they usually are at this time," she said.
"You did really well today," she said. "With your lines, I mean."
She nodded. "Yes, except for the stuffed animals. Theyre allowed to keep those in their rooms. This is where the rest of the things are kept."
I shrugged, a little wary of where she was going with this. "I dont know yet. I havent figured that part out. Im going to UNC next fall, at least I hope so. I have to get accepted first."
"And your house is beautiful."
He thanked us anyway and chatted for a while about what he planned to do instead.
"Marvelous," she said, closing the discussion.
I guess she was used to it. To me, though, the sparseness of the room made the whole thing depressing. I couldnt imagine growing up in a place like this.
Though the concept was absolutely ridiculous, with her I just knew it came from the heart and she intended it as a compliment.
"They dont have coloring books," she whispered, "so they use newspapers." She didnt look at me as she spoke-instead her attention was directed at the kids. Shed begun to smile again.
Mr. Jenkins picked up a pencil and started tapping it on his desk, obviously thinking about how to explain himself. In time, he put down the pencil and sighed.
To be honest, I wasnt sure I could handle it, but I knew she really wanted me there. And she was feeling so down that the words came out automatically.
I was still shaking my head as I got in the car.
"Well, what do you want to do with your life?"
"Sure, Ill go."
"I want to get married," she said quietly. "And when I do, I want my father to walk me down the aisle and I want everyone I know to be there. I want the church bursting with people."
"Why not?" Jamie asked, her brow furrowed. She seemed genuinely perplexed by his lack of enthusiasm.
"Your mothers a wonderful lady," Jamie said.
"So how long have you been coming to the orphanage?" I asked conversationally.
"Do you enjoy it, or does it make you sad?"
She had that faraway look in her eyes again, and it was a moment before she went on.
The way she answered made me suspect that she thought shed end up like Miss Garber. I tried to make her feel better, even though it still seemed silly to me.
"While were here, do you want to stop in to see the kids?" I asked into the silence. It was the only thing I could think to do that might make her feel better. "I could wait out here while you talk to them, or go to the car if you want."
I could tell she didnt want to talk about it anymore, dont ask me how, so I moved on to something new.
"How about you? What do you want to do in the future?"
My mom-after making sure shed heard Jamie correctly-faced me with her eyebrows raised. She stared at me like I was an alien.
"How about after college? What do you want to do then?"
"Hey, Roger," Jamie said in response, "how are you?"
"Uh-huh."
"Kind of," I said.
