From his point of view, the multicolored blouse and light blue slacks looks good on her. Her black hair is combed back in an eye pleasing style. In essence, he finds her lovely. He also finds himself at a momentary loss for words.
“Earth to David! Come in! Is there something you want?” She asks, breaking his train of thought. David fights a compelling urge to give her the one answer that he knows will compel her to slam the door back in his face. “Uh, yes! Is Tyrone home?” He asks after returning to three-dimensional spatial reality. “I have to talk to him.”
“You must want to talk to him mighty bad. You almost broke the door in,” she chides him. His anger has not completely subsided to handle the present situation with calmness. “I apologize for that! Look, I have to talk with him. A lot of things are going down and it’s troubling me.”
“Oh really?” Sylvia stands puzzled as she looks at him.
Suddenly, she remembers the conversation she had with Diane two days ago at the F.W. Woolworth department store. The information she had gleaned from his journal has raised her curiosity, as well as her fascination with the cylindrical device.
She decides on a calmer stance. “Well, Tyrone left with that woman a few minutes ago. She picked him up in her car.”
“Did he say where they were going or when he’ll be back?”
“No, I don’t get into my brother’s personal business. Now what are you so upset about?”
David has no intention on telling her of her brother’s dire situation. He would wait. “Uh…nothing…really.”
“Yeah! Right! Just like you always tell me,” she replies with disbelief.
“If you wait a few minutes, Nathan will be out of the shower. If you want, you can come in and sit down.”
“Well…I guess so.”
“I insist,” she tells him. “I want to talk to you about something.”
“Sure. Don’t mind if I do.” David follows her into the house.
She motions him to sit down on the couch. “If you like, I can fix you a sandwich,” she suggests.
“Well, I am kind of hungry. What’s on the menu?”
“You can have turkey with cheese or leftover Cornish Hen.”
“Turkey and cheese on rye bread are one of my favorite sandwiches,” he confesses. He is finding Sylvia’s perfume overwhelmingly fragrant. After entering the kitchen, Sylvia opens a cabinet and removes two plates.
David sits quietly as various ideas are running through his mind about her.
“What would you like to drink?” She asks from the kitchen.
“How about an ice-cold beer?”
Sylvia laughs. “Sorry, mom drank the last one we had. How about a can of cold grape soda instead?”
“Uh…yeah, I guess that’ll do. Where’s your mom now?”
“She’s at work.” With casual effort, Sylvia makes two sandwiches, both turkey and cheese with an extra helping of sliced turkey on his.
She walks back into the living room and places both plates on the coffee table. She walks back into the kitchen and returns a short time later with two 12-oz cans of Del Monte grape soda.
To David’s surprise and delight, she sits about six feet from him.
With great difficulty, he is struggling hard to keep his feelings for her in check. He notices low volume music playing from a nearby Emerson floor stereo, which is tuned to WRAP 850, his favorite AM radio station.
Two radio DJs, Frankie “Soul Ranger” Steward and Jay Dee Jackson, are clowning with each other in the background. David takes one bite of his sandwich and savors the Swiss cheese and turkey. “This is so good,” he mumbles softly. He had neglected to eat anything all day.
With a brief glance, he notices how Sylvia is eating her sandwich. He lets out a short laugh.
“What’s so funny?” She asks.
Focusing his attention on her face, David could not help but laugh at the constant motion of her mouth as she is chewing.
“God in heaven, this woman is awesome!” He is thinking to himself. He places his sandwich down.
She swallows her food. “What’s wrong? You don’t like it?”
“Yeah, it’s delicious,” he begins. “It’s just that I feel kind of awkward right now.” At times, the simple act of saying her name makes him feel as if he were on top of the world. He is struggling to convince himself that Sylvia Joniqua Clark is typical of many young women originally from the Baldwin/Hills Crenshaw neighborhood of Los Angeles. His beating heart, however, refuses to allow him to believe this apparent reality.
“Why?” She asks, as she takes another bite of her sandwich. She already has an idea of what must be going through his mind. Sylvia is beginning to feel that David, despite a few of his annoying traits, is a nice looking young man. Still, his seeming odd behavior, at times, puzzles her. Her memories of him, as well as the surrounding events from nearly three years ago are quite clear. Beginning on Wednesday morning, 1 September 1971, statewide integration had begun. Her first day at Anonwood Central High School challenged her. Unlike the previous year, the majority of her classmates were white students. She was determined, however, to meet this new challenge. It was the following Friday afternoon that she first took notice of the six-foot young teenager in the second-floor hallway. She was in the eighth grade.
He was in the ninth grade. Fifth period had just ended and the hallway began to fill with students making their way to their sixth period classes. Dressed in a blue shirt and blue jeans, she was walking and conversing with several of her neighborhood friends when suddenly, she looked up and noticed a young man looking at her. Dressed in a red shirt and blue jeans, the young man, David, was standing among a group of other teenage men. His sudden and piercing focus surprised and disturbed her. The other young women alongside her begin giggling. Subsequently, at times, she would see him walking toward her in the school hallway.
After a smile, David attempted striking up a conversation. His manner of speaking, however, compelled her to cut the conversation short. Frustrated, he walked off. She simply cared little, if at all for him. In her view, he was simply too timid for her taste. Her siblings, Diane especially, teased her over the fact that David had a serious crush on her. “I have absolutely no interest in David,” she would respond defensively. Yet, he continually sought her attention. Ultimately, he wanted her love. Two year later in September of 1973, on a Friday afternoon, seven classes were attending a talent show in the auditorium. Out of each class, one or two students were chosen to sing a popular song. Sylvia was shocked when one of the students came out on stage.
As the music began playing from the speakers, David began singing the Chi-Lites’ Oh Girl. To the surprise of many people in the audience, David was singing a remarkable rendition of that wildly popular song. Sylvia, however, became puzzled. During certain parts of the song, David would be looking directly at her.
“I never thought of you as this cordial, at least, toward me,” he laughs. “A guy kind of thinks this way when a young woman fixes him a turkey and cheese sandwich.”
Sylvia laughs in return. “Well, maybe you can be straight up with me and let me know how you really feel about me, instead of being timid. Now am I right?” She looks away while taking another bite.
Her inference to his previous actions hits home with him. He becomes mildly defensive. “Yeah. Okay, I’ll admit that. But, I have my reasons.”
“Such as?” She refuses to cut him any slack.
“At the time, I wasn’t much of a conversationalist,” he casually admits. He takes another bite of his sandwich in anticipation of her response. He feels caught between a beautiful young woman and a hard place.
“Yeah, I noticed. But, I’ve seen you converse with other girls without a shred of hesitation. I don’t understand.”
David responds with another laugh. Talking to other young women had presented little, if any challenge to him.
It was only in Sylvia’s presence that he began feeling uneasy and nervous. “Yeah, I guess so. You hav
e to admit however that some women seem intimidating to some men.”
A moment of silence passes between them. “Intimidating? In what way do I intimidate you?”
Again, a brief silence. David is uncertain as to how to give her the best response. “Unlike some girls, I’ve noticed that you, should I say, is more forthright.”
Sylvia is taken aback at his conclusion. “Forthright…as in?”
“Outspoken.”
“David, I don’t beat around the bush. I speak what’s on my mind. Do you find something wrong with that?”
“That all depends. You can be outspoken while being mindful of the other person’s feelings. In a meaningful relationship, good communication is vital.”
“I agree,” she continues. “Along with having good communication, however, you should also realize that sharing a common ground is just as important.” Sylvia chooses her words carefully.
David perks up. “Common ground? Are you serious?”
“Yes. You and I share a common interest in physics, math and history. I mean, like, women can be just as smart as men.”
For the moment, David is speechless. Within the last two minutes, he had been taking serious note of a particular song playing at low volume on the older RCA Barletta floor model stereo. He is certain that the song, the Temptations’ Just My Imagination echoes his exact feelings for Sylvia.
His silence puzzles her. “What’s wrong? You seem distracted?”
“Nothing! Sylvia, you never impressed me as someone who enjoyed science, math and history that much.”
“Well, I do. When classes begin in September, want to do a history essay. You may not know this, but I’ve decided to become a history major when I enter college.” Sylvia is hoping that her stated, yet actual goals will compel him to be more open about his discovery.
“I see. And what historical event, God willing, will you choose for this history essay?” Although giving her a broad smile, he suspects that she is not being totally candid with him.
“You know, I’m not sure,” she answers with a pretentious smile. “I was thinking of, maybe, a rare historical event that might, you know, would cause a sensational response in the entire school.”
As warning bells begin sounding off in his head, David does not want to believe that Sylvia is being mendacious. “You’ll be taking on quite a challenge.” He takes another swallow of grape soda.
“Yeah, I know. Now I’m thinking that, maybe, you could give me an idea. I always knew that you were among the best in the school.”
David nearly falters in response to her statement. His eyes suddenly find hers in an impassioned way so much so that he fails to notice that Nathan is calling him-for the second time.
“Oh! Hey Nathan!” David replies, after breaking eye contact with Sylvia. “We have to talk buddy.”
With a heavy dose of suspicion, Nathan looks at his sister’s closeness to David. Nathan gives her a distrustful look, a look she refuses to return.
“David, we’ll talk later,” she tells him before walking away.
“I see that you two have been having lunch.” Nathan remarks.
“Yeah. Your wonderful sister fixed me a sandwich while I was waiting for you. Look, a serious problem has come up.”
“Yeah, I can see that,” Nathan thinks to himself. “Sure. Wait for me in your car. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
“Cool,” David responds before walking outside.
Walking into the kitchen, Nathan looks at Sylvia with acute suspicion.
“What’s your problem?” She snaps while avoiding looking his way.
“Do you really wanna know?” Nathan responds angrily.
“No!”
“Tough! I’ll tell you anyway! I have a problem with some nosy sisters of mine going through my belongings and if I ever catch either of them going through them again, they’ll both be in serious trouble!”
“Don’t threaten me, Nathan! I going to tell mother what you just said,” she yells angrily.
“You can tell mom any freakin’ thing you want! I’m keeping my eye on you especially! I ain’t in the least fooled by that goody-two-shoes façade of yours.”
After walking out of the kitchen, Nathan forces himself to be calm. As he walks outside, he wonders about Sylvia’s conversation with David. He is figuring on getting to the bottom of the situation.
2A DARK PAST
Crescent City, California
Friday, 2 August 1974 (12:00 Noon)
As Nathan is driving, David is keeping an eye on the street signs until he finds Ferndale Lane. The drive to Crescent City, located in Del Norte County, has proved interesting. Nathan is still reeling from what David has told him during the ride. David, on the other hand, is disturbed over what Nathan has revealed to him about Sylvia and refuses to believe it. However, for the time being, the present situation regarding the devices takes precedence. “There it is. Make a right at that next light,” David says while pointing his finger. “The address is 1265 Ferndale Lane.”
“I have it!” Nathan’s responds as he drives down the street. Toward the end of Ferndale Lane is a red two-story Victorian styled house. Situated on two acres of Redwood forest, the house is encircled by a white wooden fence. Beige shutters adorn the sides of each of the windows. Nathan drives the car up to the front gate and shuts off the engine. Both men exit the car. After walking up to the gate, they look at the lawn, which is in need of serious mowing.
After taking a deep breath, David swings the gate inward.
Both begin walking toward the front porch.
“David! Are you sure this is the place?”
“Yep!”
“What’s his name again?”
“Harold Lee Tanner,” David replies with uncertainty. “I still think you shouldn’t have talked to her that way. She was just being nice.”
Nathan becomes irritated. “David! Cut the innocent act! Will you? This isn’t Room 222. Okay, so you dig her! But I’m telling you that Sylvia and Diane are up to something. Sylvia is not the woman that you imagine she is. Take off the rose-colored glasses and see the real light.”
“Yeah, but suppose…”
“Let’s suppose nothing of the sort!” Nathan cuts him off. “Look at me and tell me I’m lying to you man. Have you ever known me to lie to you?”
“Of course not.” David does not deny Nathan’s sincerity. Both men, born in 1956, have similar backgrounds. Both possess a knowledge of American history, political science, mathematics and astrophysics; just a few of the many other aspects that have continually strengthened their friendship.
This includes the present situation with regards in solving the alien mystery. Thus, David greatly values Nathan’s input on matters. He agrees with the latter part of an ancient Hebrew proverb: “…there exists a friend sticking closer than a brother.” Before they can continue their conversation, a man opens the front door and steps out onto the porch. As both parties eye each other, the teens become nervous. Nathan notices that the man, wearing a ruffled reddish plaid shirt and faded Levi pants, appears to be in his early sixties.
David immediately judges the man to be rather brusque. The man also has a frown on his face. “What are you boys doing on my property?”
“Ah…sir, my name is David Williams and my friend here is Nathan Clark. Are you Mr. Harold Lee Tanner?”
“I am,” he replies nervously. He finds the presence of two black teenagers in his front yard quite upsetting.
His wife, Betty, is looking the through the front window. She is already on the telephone talking with the police. Subsequently, police officers in two squad cars are answering a dispatch call regarding two black teenage males, possibly armed drug dealers, in front of the Tanner’s residence at 1265 Ferndale Lane. Both police cars are on silent run.
David breaks the ice. “Mr. Tanner, I know that this is an unusual situation. But I assure you that we are not here to cause you any trouble.”
Harold’s reply is gruff. “Okay, so what
are you here for?”
David puts on his most modest composure to help ease any tension. “Mr. Tanner, Mrs. Dorothy Richardson and her daughter, Shanté, informed me that—”
“Dorothy?” Harold cuts across David. “Oh…wait! You’re that boy from Anonwood that Dotty told me about. She called me yesterday.”
“She…did?” David asks after a look of complete surprise.
“Yes, Dotty had been talking to me for the past week about you going to see Weiss. I figured that you had something important to talk to me about.”
“Yes sir, I do.” David is completely baffled by this situation. News, he concludes, travels fast along the Northern California coast line.
“I just wish he’d quit saying boy,” Nathan whispers.
“Nathan, not now buddy,” David whispers back.
“Okay! Join me on the porch,” Harold says, becoming more at ease. “This sun is just too hot.” With a sense of grand relief, David and Nathan walk up to Harold. All seat themselves. Surprisingly, Harold calls to his wife to bring out some lemonade for his two sudden guests. After a few sips of the cold drink, David changes his mind about his initial impression of Harold. Nathan develops the courage to ask for another drink.
“Mr. Tanner,” David begins, “Shanté informed me that you have some information concerning Anthony Weiss.”
Lowering his glass to the table, Harold pauses. “Young man, I’m not changing the subject, but I know you found something in those tunnels. Am I right?”
The Messenger Page 2