by J. A. York
"You could be right," Sheldon said.
"As for why I like Rachel so much, that's easy," Tabby said.
"Music," Sheldon said.
"Yes," Tabby said. "Rachel Stark is my soul mate. And she was my soul mate the instant she opened her mouth and I heard her sing that very first note, before I ever said one word to her. She is an incredible, incredible talent. For that reason alone she should be allowed to have a long, long life, because she is going to give so many people so much joy. I'm not guessing that is going to happen, I know that is going to happen.
"So I am going to do whatever I have to do to save Rachel's life, to save that beautiful voice. And I do literally fear for her life. I have been reading about these wire hanger abortions. They are ugly, deadly things. We can't let this happen. We just can't. Invasion of privacy be damned. I'll go to jail or whatever if that's what it takes."
She paused for a moment.
"What about you?" she said. "Why are you doing this for Rachel?"
"Couple of reasons," Sheldon said. "One reason is you. Your soul mate is my soul mate. I don't have to tell you that.
"The other is Rodney. Now I know that football and sports in general don't have the spiritual heft that something like the art of serious music does, but – "
"Not true," Tabby said. "The display of physical strength and agility is as beautiful an art form as any other. The Greeks taught us that centuries ago, so don't knock it."
"OK, I won't argue," Sheldon said. "But anyway, Rodney, his considerable talent as a football player aside, is a kindred soul to me, just as Bull and Jimmy are. I knew that when Coach O'Connor named Rodney the starting running back last fall, and Danny Jackson and Oscar Olney started giving Rodney a bad time in the locker room one night after practice, because he beat them out for the starting job. And he's only a sophomore and they are seniors. It was getting pretty ugly, but Rodney handled it like such an adult. Never backing down, never showing that he was afraid. Instead, he complimented those guys for their hard work on the field, and said he looked forward to helping them make the Chante Lions a better team. He totally disarmed them. It was a beautiful thing to see. That's when I knew. Rodney Stark is a brick."
Tabby smiled and gave Sheldon's arm a squeeze.
"I remember the first day I met Rachel," Tabby said. "It also was the first day I met Rodney. Do you remember that?"
"Oh, yeah," Sheldon said. "Oh, yeah."
●●●
Tabby and Sheldon walked hand in hand to school on Sept. 6, 1965, their first day as seniors at Chante High. They had been dating since they were freshmen, but they had been "together" ever since they were 2 years old, next-door neighbors playing in each other's back yard.
The high school, an imposing three-story red brick building, sits on a hill overlooking the town, which is situated in Chante Valley, through which the Missouri River courses its way south.
To reach the school's front entrance, Tabby and Sheldon had to climb a long, wide flight of concrete steps with galvanized pipe railings. Once inside the building, they walked up two flights of well-worn wooden stairs leading to the assembly hall.
Along the way, they greeted fellow students, some of whom they had not seen since the end of school last spring. Complain though they might that the summer vacation had ended, the kids were always excited that first day of school, none more so than the seniors.
Chante High is a relatively small school, no more than 50 students in the senior class, and Tabby and Sheldon knew everybody in their class, and almost everybody in the entire school. One thing was for sure: Everybody knew Sheldon and Tabby. Sheldon was a star athlete and scholar. Tabby was the runaway favorite to be the senior class valedictorian, and she was the leading soloist for the Chante Chanteuses, a girls' vocal group. Both were outgoing and friendly, humble despite their status, funny and easy to talk to, and beautiful. They had it all, it seemed.
So it was that as seniors, Tabby and Sheldon were members of the royalty at Chante High, and they were treated with deference by most students, and even some teachers. If you could count Tabby Moore and Sheldon Beasley among your close friends, something most students aspired to, you were part of an elite circle. When Sheldon and Tabby took their seats in the senior section of the cavernous assembly hall that first day, one almost expected a standing ovation.
In the back row of the senior class that day, sitting alone in a crowd, was a slender girl with straight dark hair that hung down in no particular style. She wore a plain grey knee-length dress, clean but somewhat worn. Her tennis shoes were grey, her socks black. She spoke to no one. No one spoke to her.
Her name was Rachel Stark, but no one except for a few teachers knew that for several days. She was an invisible presence. She came and went almost unnoticed.
That changed a few days later when she showed up for tryouts for the Chante Chanteuses.
When Mr. Nelson, the music instructor, called her name, Rachel walked onto the gymnasium stage and stood in front of the microphone, her hands folded at her waist. It was the first time most of the students had heard her name.
"Rachel," Mr. Nelson said, "you're new here, am I right?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, welcome to Chante High. We're glad to have you. Where do you come from?"
"Tennessee, sir."
"Tennessee. What brings you to this part of the world?"
Rachel hesitated.
"Well," she said. "My dad is a … a carpenter. And, uh, he thought … he thought he could find work here."
There were chuckles from some of the students.
"Well, good luck to him," Mr. Nelson said. "And good luck to you, Rachel. What are you going to sing for us today?"
"I thought I would sing Unchained Melody," she said.
More giggles, and a mass rolling of eyes.
Mr. Nelson turned to the girls in the audience.
"I'm sorry, ladies," he said, "but you are being very rude, and I might add, very childish. You're not grade schoolers anymore. You are Chante High School students. Moreover, you are in this room because you want to be a Chante Chanteuse. That is a high honor in this school, and you are expected to act accordingly. So if I hear any more laughing I will clear the room, and there will be no more tryouts today. Is that understood? Good."
He turned back to Rachel.
"My apologies, Rachel," he said. "Don't let a few ill-mannered people upset you. You have a lot of friends here. So relax. And when you're ready, let me know."
Mr. Nelson sat down at the piano. Rachel adjusted the mike and nodded to him.
What happened next still gives Tabby chills to this day whenever she thinks of it.
Out of this slender young girl, who might have been mistaken for a homeless street urchin, came a powerful voice that soared across the gymnasium with unearthly beauty.
Rachel did not sing Unchained Melody, she lived it. She lived it for anyone who has ever lost a love, anyone who has never had a love, any mother who has lost a child.
And when she was done, no one laughed.
Instead, they sat in silence for several seconds. Then Tabby stood up, tears streaming down her cheeks, and began to applaud.
The rest of the audience followed her lead, and as the standing ovation continued, Tabby walked up onto the stage. Tabby, who did not know Rachel Stark, knew nothing about her, had never spoken a single word to her, reached out and gave Rachel a hug.
Mr. Nelson, who had joined the applause, took the microphone.
"Rachel, that was remarkable," he said, "and I think the applause pretty much says it for me, and that is, welcome to the Chante Chanteuses."
The applause and cheers started again. When it was quiet, Mr. Nelson spoke.
"I think this is a teachable moment. Some of you, a few of you, for whatever reason, thought it was OK to laugh when one of your classmates stepped forward to sing.
"Unchained Melody, if it is sung properly, that is, sung with feeling and with soul, and with style, can be a
challenge. You can merely sing the lyrics, or you can bring them up from the depths of your soul. You can reach for the high notes, or you can play it safe. You can follow the script, or you can create your own. That is what makes Unchained Melody such a wonderful song.
"Well, let me say that it takes courage to sing that song and do it well. And if you are a brand new student at Chante High, if you don't know a soul, if you don't know how things work around here, it takes enormous, enormous courage. Could you do it? Could I? Let's ask ourselves.
"Rachel not only sang with great courage, with her heart and soul; she not only hit the high notes and beyond; she not only put her own stamp on the song. She did one other thing.
"She bared her soul. She opened herself up for all to see. She held nothing back. What you saw today was Rachel Stark … unchained. (1 See Appendix) Would that we all could do that when we sing."
Later that day, after school let out and after the Chante Chanteuses had an hour-long practice, during which Tabby and Rachel got to know each other a little, they walked together down those same long, wide concrete steps in front of the school.
When they got to the bottom, Tabby said: "Well, here's where I wait for my boyfriend."
"Sheldon Beasley?"
"That's the one."
"Is he at football practice?"
"They're done, unless they're having a chalkboard session. But he'll be here shortly. I guess it's too late for the bus. How are you getting home?"
"We don't live far enough out to qualify riding on the bus," Rachel said. "But that's OK, I'll walk. It's not that far."
"Where do you live?" Tabby asked.
"Uh, just up the hill, past the cemetery," Rachel said.
"Rachel," Tabby said. "That's four or five miles."
"Doesn't seem that long."
"Hey, Sheldon has a car," Tabby said. "He'll be here in a minute. Wait here with me and we'll give you a ride home."
"Oh, no, that's OK, Tabby, I can walk."
"Did you walk to school this morning?"
"I did."
"Rachel, that's crazy," Tabby said. "Are you going to have to do that every day?"
Rachel shrugged.
Tabby was dumbfounded.
"You can't do that!" she said. "I mean … I don't mean … What I'm trying to say is, it's bad enough to walk that far every day now, when the weather is nice, but this ain't Tennessee, Rachel! We get snow here, lots and lots of snow."
Rachel still resisted, but Tabby kept pressing.
"I really wish you'd let us take you home, Rachel. Then you could meet Sheldon. He's a very neat guy. Wink, wink," Tabby said.
"My brother plays football too," Rachel said.
"You have a brother?"
"He's a sophomore. Rodney," Rachel said.
"Oh, wow," Tabby said. "Now you have to let us take you home. We'll all ride together. It'll be fun!"
Rachel looked at the ground. Her silence came like a subtle warning. Maybe, Tabby thought, she had pushed things too far. She was reminded of Rachel's clothes, something she had completely forgotten when Rachel started singing. Rachel's family obviously was poor. Maybe, Tabby said to herself, Rachel was too embarrassed to show anyone where she lived.
"You could just drop us off at the cemetery," Rachel said. "We could walk the rest of the way, if that's OK."
"Deal!" Tabby said.
A few minutes later, Sheldon, Bull, Jimmy and Rodney came running down the concrete steps.
"Hey!" Sheldon shouted. "Whassup, girls?"
After all the introductions were made, the six kids piled into Sheldon's 1951 Ford for the ride up to the cemetery.
"I don't think you've ever had this many people in this old beater," Bull said. "Are you sure you can make it up the hill?"
"We're gonna find out," Sheldon said. "I might have to dump you out half way. You know, to lighten the load."
"Or, more likely, to get him to shut up," Jimmy said.
Bull turned around from his seat in front and engaged Jimmy in a little slappy-slappy play fight.
"Children, children," said Tabby, sitting in the front seat between Sheldon and Bull. "Behave yourselves."
"Yes, Mommie," Bull said.
"I'll tell you one thing about this old car," Jimmy said to his back-seat mates, Rodney and Rachel, "and let this be a warning to you. Do not, I repeat, do not, ride in this car in the winter."
"Amen!" Bull shouted.
"Because this car does not have a heater," Jimmy said.
"Wrong!" Sheldon said. "This car does have a heater."
"OK, but it doesn't work," Jimmy said.
"Well, yes, there is that," Sheldon said.
"Plus," Bull said. "Plus. The tires on this car are as bald as Mr. Nelson's head. If we get more than an inch of snow, and we always get way more than that, this car is totally useless. It gets stuck before it gets out of the garage."
"I just might have to lighten the load sooner than I thought," Sheldon said. "Quit picking on my car."
"Snow?" Rodney said. "You get snow here? Nobody told me that."
"Oh, man, do we get snow here? Is the pope a Catholic?" Jimmy said.
"Let me out, Sheldon," Rodney said. "C'mon, Rachel, we're going back to Tennessee."
"Nope," Sheldon said. "You can't leave until after football season. Unless you're as good of a basketball player as you are a football player. Then you can't leave until next spring."
Rodney's face broke into a wide smile.
"You know," Bull said, "as an adherent of the Native American Drum Religion, I've always wondered: Is the pope a Catholic?"
"Hey, everybody," Sheldon said. "Did you hear that? Bull has learned a new word. Adherent. He's an adherent."
"I hear that he is an adherent," said Jimmy.
"Where did you hear that?" Sheldon asked.
"H-e-r-e, h-e-r-e," Jimmy said.
"You know," Bull said, "as an adherent of the Native American Drum Religion, I've always wondered: When you say 'hear, hear,' is it 'h-e-r-e, h-e-r-e,' or 'h-e-a-r, h-e-a-r'?"
"Depends on where you are," Jimmy said.
"Where-where?" Bull said.
"There-there, don't worry, little boy," Jimmy said.
"If you're talking about rabbits, it's 'hare, hare'," Bull said.
"And," said Sheldon, pausing for effect, "if you're talking about ladies of the evening, it's – "
"Sheldon!" Tabby shouted. "All right already, you guys."
"Gee, a guy can't even have any fun," Sheldon said. "You mean you cannot bear-bear to hear-hear this anymore?"
She punched Sheldon in the arm. Hard.
"Hey, be careful. That's my driving arm. Not to mention my throwing arm," said Sheldon, Chante High's all-star quarterback.
"Yes, do not, I repeat, do not, mess with Sheldon Beasley's throwing arm. Driving arm, OK, but lay off the throwing arm," said Jimmy, a wide receiver who already held the Chante Valley Conference record for most receptions in a single season.
"Football," Rachel said. "Are you guys going to have a good team this year?"
The four boys suddenly became all-business. The football team had been practicing since two weeks before school started.
"Good, no," Bull said. "Great, yes."
"Really?" Rachel said.
"Really," Bull said.
"Last year we were undefeated and won the conference title," Jimmy said. "And we did it with only one good running back – Bull."
"You need five yards, I'll give you five yards," Bull said. "You need 50 yards, I'll give you five yards.
"In other words, I'm a tough between-the-tackles runner. But I'm no speed demon. We didn't have a speed demon. But if we needed a long yardage play, we had the best pass-catch combo in the whole state – Beasley to Blaze.
"But this year, you know what? We've got that speed demon. And he's sitting in the back seat of this car. We not only have Beasley, Blaze and Evenshot, we have Stark."
Rodney gave a nervous, self-effacing chuckle.
"And so," Bull said, "we're not only going to go undefeated again and win the conference title again this year, we're going to stampede through our schedule like a herd of wild … well, bulls."
"And that's no bull," Sheldon said.
"I am so sick of that joke, Beasley," Bull said.
"In this case, it's not a joke. Normally it is, but not in this case," Sheldon said. "Your take on how we're going to do this fall was not a bunch of … bravado. Well, OK, some bravado maybe, but …
"I don't want to jinx anything, but almost all of the starters from last year's team are back. They have another year of experience under their belts. They are winners – they know how to win. Defensive line, defensive backs offensive line, the backfield, receivers, special teams, you name it. We are solid at every position. There are always injuries and everything, you never know what's going to happen. But all things being equal, I think we are going to be unstoppable.
"And Rodney, well, I'm serious, we had a missing piece last year, and we almost lost a couple of games because of it. But you, my man, you are like lightning. I would not want to try to tackle you in the open field. We're really glad you're here. Tennessee's loss was our gain."
"Thanks, man," Rodney said. "I'm glad to be here too."
"And if you think Rodney is a good football player, wait till you hear Rachel sing. She is absolutely incredible," Tabby said.
"Huh? You know, Tabby, I think there was a slight problem … actually I think there was a major flaw in your logic, or your analogy, or your sentence structure or something. What you just said didn't quite make sense," Sheldon said. "But I've known you for so long that I was able to decode the message. Also, also, I already heard that Rachel has a drop-dead beautiful singing voice. That bit of news spread through the whole school like a wildfire. I can't wait to hear you sing, Rachel."
Rachel blushed.
"Hear, hear," Tabby said.
●●●
Tabby sighed. "I'm getting worried," she said. "Are we ever going to get there?"
"Yes. We. Are," Sheldon said. "C'mon, let's catch up to Jimmy."
They started jogging. The snow on Cemetery Road was getting deeper by the minute.