The Light in My Heart

by Jerry Rosendorn

  I put the bag on my bike rack and rode home knowing I’d have to wait until Monday to give the necklace to Terry Jane.

  I was very anxious the rest of the weekend; I guarded the necklace as my most prized possession. I couldn’t wait for Monday to arrive; I kept looking at the clock calculating how many more hours until school.

  When Monday morning finally came, I woke up thirty minutes before my usual time. I was so anxious to get to school that I called Bob and asked him to meet me early. He agreed and we met at our usual spot. As we rode, I kept looking back at my bike rack to make sure the gift was still there.

  As soon as I got to school, I positioned myself near the cafeteria; it was the best place to watch the kids arrive. I kept looking for Terry Jane. Finally, she arrived about ten minutes before the start of our first period class.

  “Terry Jane, Terry Jane,” I shouted as I ran toward her. “I want to talk to you; I have something for you.” She turned and faced me.

  I held up the box with the necklace and stumbled over my words. “Terry Jane, I would like to make our relationship stronger,” I gushed.

  “I’d like to go steady with you. Will you go steady with me?”

  She looked at me with a big smile as her eyes were alternating between my face and the box. Finally, her eyes fixed on mine.

  “Yes, I will.”

  I was so happy I wanted to hug and kiss her, but minding the school rules, I just touched her right arm gently and handed her the box. Her eyes widened when she opened it.

  “It’s an amethyst,” I said with the biggest smile on my face. “It’s your birthstone, Terry Jane. Please wear it now.”

  Terry Jane took the necklace out of the box and put it around her neck. She was wearing an off-white turtleneck sweater; the stone hung down from the top of the sweater. It couldn’t be missed against the background; I was so proud of that moment.

  With a sense of belonging, I walked Terry Jane to her first class. I knew everyone could read our commitment to each other from our eyes.

  Almost immediately, the school rumor mill started churning out the news we were going steady. As we walked around the school, everyone seemed to stare us with envy. I’d reached a celebrity status; I was walking on air.

  One week later after school, I pushed my bike to walk Terry Jane home; when we arrived at her apartment building, she invited me inside. As I entered her apartment, I looked around the living room and saw photographs of her family and two large portraits on the wall, one of Terry Jane and one of her brother Suds.

  Terry Jane knew I loved sports so she took me into her brother’s room. On the walls were Dodger pennants, autographed photos of Don Drysdale, Sandy Koufax, Tommy Davis, and Maury Willis. In one corner of the room, leaning against the wall, was a collection of baseball bats signed by Dodger players. On a table near the bats was a stack of baseball yearbooks dating back to 1955. I couldn’t believe this treasure trove of collectibles.

  “Where’d your brother get all of this stuff?” I asked.

  “He’s been collecting it for years.” Terry Jane sighed as if it wasn’t important. “He loves sports and has always loved the Dodgers. Remember, Brooklyn had them first. When we came out here last summer, Suds got a job as a temporary batboy for the Dodgers. He has a friend who has a friend whose father knows Walter O’Malley.”

  “Why do you call him Suds?”

  “His real name is William after my father’s favorite uncle. My mother hates that name and has been calling him Suds since he was about five. Suds loved root beer and he was constantly going into the refrigerator for root beer. One day, he took out a real beer by mistake and drank it; there was foam all over his face. When my mother saw him, she laughed and nicknamed him ‘Suds.’”

  When she left Suds’ room, I followed her into her bedroom. I don’t remember much about her room except the white carpet; we sat on the floor with our backs against her bed.

  I looked at Terry Jane remembering how she looked in the moonlight on the diving board at Patricia’s house. With this image still in my mind, I leaned over and kissed her. Terry Jane opened her mouth and gently slid her tongue toward my lips. When I opened my mouth to receive her tongue; I was stunned by the sensation. As our mouths coupled together, we started moving toward the floor. Before I realized what had happened, Terry Jane was on her back and I was lying on top of her. Instead of a gentle kiss, our lips became fused together in a powerful exchange.

  Within a few minutes, I couldn’t feel my lips anymore. Instead, when I felt her big breasts against my chest; I began to float into another world. Then, I felt as though my entire blood flow was being redirected to one part of my body. Never feeling this before, I got scared.

  Thinking my penis might explode, I rolled off of Terry Jane; quickly changing positions onto my back. As she rose from the floor, I stared up at her. I must have had a helpless look on my face judging by her reaction. She shook her head, as she tried to figure out why I was backing away from what was feeling good to her.

  “What happened?” she inquired. “Why did you stop?”

  I stuttered as I searched for an answer.

  “It was getting too hot for me; I need to cool down.”

  I wanted to kiss her more, but my concern over a possible exploding body part had me looking for the fastest way out of her apartment.

  “Terry Jane, I need to get home to do my homework,” I said. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”

  Before she could respond, I was out the door as if a strong Santa Ana gust had blown me right down the stairs from her second-story apartment to where my bike stood locked against a tree. I rode home furiously hoping the evidence of my passion would disappear. After several good spins on my bike, the blood was being redirected to other body parts.

  For the next two months, I met Terry Jane in the morning, walked her to each class, ate lunch with her in the Ninth Grade Court, and said good-bye to her after school.

  Things seemed fine between us and I wanted to see her outside of school. While I worked on another scheme, my parents indirectly helped me by saying they’d be out of the house for a few hours early one Saturday morning. With this golden opportunity, I invited Terry Jane over to my house and asked her to come early.

  When she finally arrived around mid-morning, we went into the living room and sat on the couch. After a few words were spoken, I took her into my arms to hug and kiss her. Assuming it was an anomaly, my concern over what had happened at Terry Jane’s apartment was gone. As I moved on top of her, I began to feel myself drift off to another state of ecstasy, when I heard the familiar sound of my parents’ car driving up the driveway into the garage.

  “Oh no, Terry Jane,” I cried, and then jumped up. “My parents are home.”

  “What?” she shouted and took off for the front door.

  Just as she exited through the front door, my parents came in through the side door. Before greeting them, I followed Terry Jane to the front door just in time to see her dart across the yard, jump over the low fence, and run down the sidewalk.

  Wanting to catch up to her, I moved past my parents with a quick “Hi” as I dashed for the garage. I jumped on my bike and rode in Terry Jane’s direction. I found her several houses around the corner; she was out of breath and pale.

  “You’re an idiot!” she glared at me gulping for air. ”How could you invite me over? You must have known they’d come back soon?”

  “Terry Jane,” I said trying to calm her. “I had no idea. Besides, I told you to come over early.”

  “I can’t take this,” she said harshly. “You’re too young for me. I need someone who drives. I need someone who’s available. We’re through.”

  With both hands, she reached around her neck and removed the necklace. She dropped it in my hand and walked away.

  I stood there shocked as though someone punched me in the stomach.
I couldn’t understand what I’d done wrong; all I did was love Terry Jane.

  For the next week, Terry Jane ignored me. When I saw her in the school hallway, she did not acknowledge me. I felt a great loss; I couldn’t control my feelings of sadness.

  Again, the rumor mill went into full swing. The word about our break up was all over school; my celebrity status crashed. Everyone knew she’d broken up with me. Now, when I walked through the hallways, I saw looks of pity.

  A few weeks later, while I was waiting in the cafeteria before going to my first period class, Terry Jane came up to me.

  “Hi,” she said smiling. “How are you?”

  She seemed like the old Terry Jane. I figured with some time to think, she realized her mistake in breaking up with me.

  “Terry Jane, I’m fine. We should be getting back together.”

  “Before we talk about that I need some help,” she said, forcing a smile. “Did you do the homework for our history class?”

  “Yes,” I said, confused, but happy she was talking to me again.

  “Can I see it?”

  “Here are my answers to the homework, Terry Jane,” I said eager to please.

  She looked them over and then stared at me with pleading eyes.

  “You need to help me,” she begged. “If not, I’ll fail this class and I won’t graduate with you in June.”

  I was convinced she figured out how important I was to her.

  “Of course, Terry Jane,” I gushed. “I’m always ready to help you. I care about you very much.”

  With another forced smile, she sat down on a cafeteria bench and quickly copied my answers onto her worksheets. When she was finished, she handed me back my papers and took off.

  “I will see you later,” she said with her back to me.

  My answers must have done the trick; we both graduated in June. In the fall, Terry Jane and I went to different senior high schools.

  Chapter 8

  “You were quite precocious. How old were you again?”

  “I turned fifteen near the end of the school year.”

  “I want to compliment you on your ability to recognize and describe your emotional states when you sat with Terry Jane on the diving board. There was a lot going on in that exchange, including the sensations you experienced as you moved closer and touched her. Also, I liked the empathy you felt and showed her as she told you the story of the economic woes of her family. You were able to identify with those money issues; you expressed your concern for her, and let her know you understood. This was a healthy response to what she was telling you; it encouraged her to get closer to you and she responded in the way she touched and held you.

  “On the other hand, why did you feel the need to go steady with her?”

  The answer to that question was easy. “I wanted to avoid what happened when Sandy found another guy. I know now it was stupid, but at the time I thought it was a good thing to do. I thought it would create a bond between us so she wouldn’t break up with me. It’s funny now to think that a five dollar necklace could cement a relationship.

  “I thought I had it all figured out; I was shocked when she broke up with me; I was very hurt. That’s why I was happy to let her see my homework; I was hoping she’d come back to me. I desperately wanted to fix our broken relationship.”

  As I sat in Dr. Fox’s hard-as-a-rock chair, I became sad as I thought back to those feelings.

  “She hurt me very much,” I said emphatically. “I even felt angry about it.”

  Dr. Fox’s eyes were riveted on me.

  “Did you feel like you had to get even? Not necessarily against Terry Jane, but did you ever feel you had to act on those feelings against someone else? In fact, have you ever taken those hurt feelings out against another girl or woman?”

  I turned away. The question got me thinking about other events in my life; I gave her the best answer I could at that moment.

  “Maybe I did, Dr. Fox. You’re causing me to look back at other relationships. I guess this is part of the ‘digging’ you talk about.”

  “I’m glad to hear that you are doing some digging. We’ll talk more about this; I want you to think about it,” she said, pausing briefly. “Did you ever see Terry Jane again?”

  I could still picture my last image of Terry Jane.

  “I understand the obvious shortcomings of going steady at such a young age,” I said with a smile. “In one regard, Terry Jane gave me a sense of love, albeit young and limited; I experienced great pleasures when I touched her. For this, I’ll always be grateful for her friendship.

  “On the other hand, Terry Jane hurt me when she broke up with me. After graduation, I was mad at myself for allowing her to manipulate me just to get my homework. I was so naïve; maybe it was the fixer inside of me thinking if I was kind and loving to her, I could smooth things over and she’d love me back.”

  Dr. Fox put on her glasses and began to write some notes on her pad as she spoke. “Jake, is this a reoccurring theme in your life? Do you believe you can fix a problem just by being nice and helpful?”

  I nodded.

  She continued, “But, here’s the lesson. You can’t always fix a situation. Sometimes a situation can’t be repaired, sometimes it doesn’t need to be repaired, and sometimes it shouldn’t be repaired.”

  I nodded again and told her how I was finally able to have the closure I needed on my feelings about Terry Jane. “Eight years after our graduation, I was working for the Los Angeles Board of Education during my summer break from law school; I was director of trips for elementary schools in the San Fernando Valley. On one of the trips, we took the kids to the Los Angeles Community College to see a production of ‘Alice in Wonderland.’ As I sat in the theater, one of the actors entered the stage as the Queen of Hearts. Thinking I knew her from somewhere, I kept staring; it was Terry Jane.

  “When the play was over, the actors came out into the audience to meet the kids. As Terry Jane approached and recognized me, we hugged as old friends. It was a nice moment for me; some of the nice feelings I had for her came back to me. As I eased my hold of her, I looked into her eyes to see her smiling at me.

  “‘Remember when your parents came home that day?’ She said with a giggle. ‘I can’t believe how high I jumped over that fence.’

  “‘You looked like an Olympic champion.’

  “Instead of harboring the hurt I felt when we broke up, her charming smile became the thing I remember most about her.”

  Chapter 9

  1965

  After breaking up with Terry Jane, I had some long talks with myself about getting involved with girls. I remember laughing out loud one day at the thought that I was following my parent’s advice; a few days later, I changed my mind.

  While I attended Madison, I went to religious school each Sunday working toward confirmation in June of the following year.

  There was a beautiful girl named Karen in my confirmation class who was also a Madison classmate. Karen was tall and very shapely. As soon as Terry Jane broke up with me, Karen began smiling at me.

  One Sunday in early June, my confirmation class teacher assigned Karen and me the task of preparing the banquet hall of the temple for our class party. While helping Karen with some of the decorations, she brushed against my arm; leaving me with a warm feeling inside. A few minutes later, it happened again. Both times her breast touched my arm; I found myself reliving those feelings as I went through the day.

  After being with Karen at the temple, I decided to call and ask if I could visit her at home. She lived close by and I still had my trusty bike.

  It was summer vacation and Karen invited me to come by on Monday around ten o’clock in the morning.

  “My parents will be leaving around nine,” she explained, “to be on the safe side, come by at ten.”

  Before I could visit Karen,
I had to come up with an excuse for my mother. Now that summer had arrived, after school sports no longer worked. This time I told her I was riding over to the gym at Los Angeles Valley Community College to shoot baskets. This was music to my mother’s ears; she still felt her son wouldn’t get into trouble if he participated in sports.

  On Monday morning, I rode over to Karen’s house, and with each push of the pedals, I kept imagining what it would be like to touch her well-developed body. As I imagined it, Karen would open the door, I would step toward her, and we would embrace.

  As if on cue, when I arrived at her house, Karen grabbed my arm and rushed me inside away from the prying eyes of her neighbors. Once safely inside her house, she gave me a big hug. As she touched me, I felt tingling up and down my body; my fantasy had been fulfilled.

  Once the hug was over, Karen led me into her living room where we sat on the couch and listened to music. She put on the soundtrack from the musical, “Fiddler on the Roof.” Since I’d never heard these songs before, I found myself caught up in the music and lyrics of the songs, especially “Sunrise, Sunset.” Karen sat close to me heightening my enjoyment.

  She summarized the story line; explaining that “Sunrise, Sunset” was sung at the wedding ceremony. “The show started in New York and was the most popular musical of the season. A few weeks ago, my mother took me to the road show in Los Angeles; I loved it. As a remembrance, she bought me the album.”

  After hearing the soundtrack, I knew that this was something I wanted to do as an adult; go to New York and see a musical show.

  When the record was finished, I asked Karen to play it again. This time as I listened, I imagined Karen in my arms again. I wanted to recapture the feeling of her body against mine; I wanted to kiss her like I did with Terry Jane.

  As the record finished for the second time, I suggested we go into Karen’s bedroom and she agreed. I followed her into her room and took her into my arms; we kissed. Then, suddenly, she broke our kiss, left my arms, and went over to lie down on top of her bed. An obvious invitation to me, I joined her and resumed our kissing. Slowly, my hand worked its way under her blouse and slid toward her bra. I could feel her enjoyment as she sighed and continued to kiss me with great passion. As the intensity was building, nature took its own course; I was brought back to that same sensation I felt in Terry Jane’s bedroom, except this time, I did explode. The feeling of the release was wonderful, and thankfully, it seemed like my penis was still attached.