An Autumn To Remember
Joy Galloway
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1
It was the tenth day of September 2010, Elmtown looked colorful and full of life. Wind blew dry leaves to the side of the road in the small perfectly planned suburb.
Fall had arrived with yellow school buses and high school and college students were back on the streets. SUVs, minivans and sedans drove through the A3 district, where kids were dropped off for after-school activities like piano lessons, dance classes and taekwondo. Others walked home in clusters of twos, threes or more, engaged in topics only teenagers find amusing. They were loud, playful, and energetic–blissfully unaware of life’s rigors that lay ahead.
Whenever they crossed paths, the high school girls tried to get the attention of Malcolm Vale University boys who attended the popular private college in that part of Western New York. They winked, giggled, and smiled, but the MVU boys had been enchanted by the novelty of college girls and college freedom. Besides, they were now “adults” and didn't want to be associated with anything high school.
Jamie Collins, a math-major/music-minor was a senior at MVU. He was walking home from college on the same route he used to frequent with his then best friend, Chelsea Braithwaite. Some girls smiled at him as he passed the St. Mary’s High School building where he and Chelsea attended in their teens.
One of the girls shared a resemblance with Chelsea, or so he thought. Maybe it was just because of her pixie haircut which had a purple highlight at the front. Chelsea always liked dying her hair with various colors. The girl seemed bolder than the rest of her friends, and this was proved by the wink she threw at Jamie. He politely smiled back at them but walked past, readjusting his black backpack. His boyish looks probably made them think he was a freshman, but he was at least five years older than they were. Back in high school, Jamie would laugh at Chelsea and her friend Angie when they failed to get the attention of other MVU freshmen on their way home.
But that was eight years ago, before Chelsea went to England with her parents. In his head, all those memories seemed like only yesterday, a not so distant past; he couldn’t believe he was now almost done with college. How time flies, he thought. The older you get, the faster life becomes. He wondered what Chelsea looked like now. She was probably already done with college unless she had taken a year off like he had, before his freshman year. Knowing Chelsea, she would have thought such adventures were a waste of time. Maybe he would finally open a Facebook account to try to reconnect with her.
As he continued walking home, he saw an elderly woman on the other side of the street wearing a black and white spotted dress and holding three leashed Dalmatians, their fur stained with the exact same black spots which were scattered on her outfit. The dogs were athletic and full of energy, pulling their leashes and bidding the woman to catch up. As they pulled, she almost fell over a water hydrant. The woman could as well have been Chelsea’s grandmother who always brought her dogs when visiting Elmtown and would sometimes wear colors that matched their fur or winter coats. Jamie and his mom would often laugh about it anytime they came across the trendy woman. She lived in New Allen City, the commercial hub of Western New York, miles from Elmtown. “She spends more money on her dogs’ apparel than we spend on one month of groceries,” his mom once said on their way home from the grocery store. Jamie laughed hard, as it was most likely true.
As he passed the public library and headed towards Thornton Street where the St. Peter's Church sat quietly between the community center and an old under-used gym, the smell of freshly baked pastries from Karla’s Bakery made his empty stomach growl. Gosh, that woman knows how to bake, he thought. It wasn’t a surprise that everyone on this side of town wanted a piece of her goodies. The bakeries on Jamie’s side of town weren’t as expensive as Karla’s but their products weren’t as good either.
Jamie looked at the line of customers running from inside the bakery all the way to the sidewalk, almost blocking the entrance of the convenience store next door. He checked his pockets in case he could find some change–he did, but it was only a dollar.
“Pfft, that line is too long,” he said, not that he could have found something in there for a dollar anyway.
Jamie exited Thornton Street and turned into the residential area of the affluent part of town. The first three parallel streets, characterized by mid-century modern architecture, were some of the most expensive places to live. Although Jamie and his mother’s house in Bluewood Village was only a few minutes away from these ornate blocks, it wasn’t nearly as imposingly designed–and that was an understatement. He went past his favorite of all the houses, the one with red bricks in the middle where the mayor’s sister lived with her stockbroker husband and their twin girls. It was the type of home he imagined he would live in one day. One day, when he could afford it, when a life of want was far removed from him.
As he turned onto Zelda Crescent, he saw a big moving van parked in front of the house where Chelsea’s family used to live. He was again reminded of how much he missed Chelsea, and wondered if sending her an email after all this time would rekindle their friendship.
Three hefty men stood in front of the house, waiting for instructions. Then he saw a woman come out of the house walking like Chelsea’s mom. He could never forget that woman’s walk– quick with purpose in her steps, as if she was always on a mission.
He slowed his pace and as he came closer, he saw the woman saying something to the movers who started unloading the van. He squinted, then he saw her face vividly.
It wasn’t Chelsea’s mom.
It was Chelsea herself.
2
“My mom will be here in a minute, she’ll tell you where to move those,” Chelsea said pointing to a couple of sealed brown boxes. She flipped her long reddish brown wavy hair and ran her fingers through it; the pixie hairstyle was gone but she still looked incredibly beautiful.
Jamie wanted to scream.
He wanted to run and hug her but they hadn’t seen each other in eight years.
She had become a woman, much more beautiful than anything he could have imagined. His eyes caught her shapely figure which was very well defined by the black skinny jeggings and silky tunic she was wearing. She had clear electric-blue eyes which made her look energetic and striking. If she was taller, it couldn’t be more than an inch but that was a good thing because Jamie was attracted to petite women. Oh my, she’s gorgeous, he thought to himself.
Not seeing him, she turned and walked back towards the house.
Then Jamie said her name, “Chelsea.”
She kept walking back towards the door until one of the men who was carrying a box behind her said out loud, “Miss…miss. I think a gentleman is here to see you.”
She looked back. “Excuse me?”
“Someone is here to see you,” he said nodding towards the handsome stranger with dark eyes.
She turned and walked towards Jamie, squinting her eyes to aid her vision.
She doesn’t recognize me, this is getting awkward, Jamie thought disappointedly. The prospect of having to explain who you are to someone who was once your closest friend seemed very uncomfortable indeed. He knew his appearance hadn’t changed much.
As his smile
began to retreat like a snail into its shell, he heard her scream.
“Jamiiieeee!”
To his relief, she started to run towards him. He smiled and opened his arms as she flew into him with joyous abandon. He held her close, wrapping his arms around her. She smelled like red roses with a tinge of vanilla: exotic, fresh, and sweet.
He was only expecting a warm greeting, a firm handshake, a few words here and there, or at the most a slight half hug. That’s what most people did after such a long absence, but she matched his excitement with hers and that felt good.
What a rollercoaster day it was turning out to be. Jamie woke up feeling depressed after a discussion with his mother the night before and was going home with nothing to be happy about. Then this happened–he saw her.
As they embraced, he thought about how stupid he was to have stopped emailing her all those years ago. He never could really forget about her. He never really shook off all of the ‘what ifs’ that kept throwing themselves at him all those years. He was never going to forget the effect Chelsea Braithwaite had on him.
“It’s so good to see you,” she said as they finally let go.
“I still feel like I’m in a dream or something. It’s been ages Chelsea. What on God’s Earth are you doing in Elmtown?” he asked.
“I’m back home buddy.”
“Get out of here. No way.”
“Yes I am. We all are, the whole family except Dad. He’s back in the country too but he’ll be in New Jersey mostly,” she said.
“Wonderful stuff, I don’t even remember the last time we spoke.”
“Must be about seven years now. I think we stopped talking a year after I got to England. Goodness that makes me feel so old,” she said slouching forward, feigning old age. “I remember you saying ‘I’ll keep in touch, I promise I’ll keep in touch.’ Six years and nothing, nada, zip. Not even an email Jamie,” she said in that same quick way she always talked.
He laughed and said, “You’re right, you’re right, I could have done better. But eh, you didn’t try to find me either. You probably didn’t even know if I was dead or alive.”
“That sucks, I actually really did miss you a lot. I guess it’s hard to keep up with the distance and different time zones. We are both horrible at keeping in touch. Horrible,” she said and chuckled.
“Yep, guilty as charged,” Jamie agreed raising his hands in the air in surrender. “But the time zone difference really sucked. I used to wake up around 2:00 a.m. to call so I could catch you before you went to school. You never really liked emails either. Now that would have made things easier–if only you knew how to reply emails,” he said. I was so stupid Chelsea, Jamie thought, just plain stupid.
“I still don’t read my emails, trust me. Look at you though,” she said as her clenched fist bounced off his arm. “Someone’s been spending a lot of time in the gym since I’ve been away. You look great. I wanna be like you when I grow up.”
“Says the model-looking beautiful young woman,” he said throwing her an audacious wink. “I almost didn’t recognize you until I came really close to the house. Your hair, you grew it out? At first, I thought you were your mom.”
Her smile magnified her blush.
“Are you saying I look old?” she asked, making a funny face at him.
“No Chelsea, I’m saying you look like a beautiful, intelligent young woman. If you want me to spell it out for you, its called H-O-T, hot.” He didn’t even realize he was now holding her soft hand. It fit perfectly into his.
“OK, I’ll let that one pass and accept your compliment.” She hugged him again. “Gosh I miss having a close male friend. Girls have too much baggage sometimes. I already have so much on my own. Ugh.”
It was almost like they were teenagers again. They were continuing from where they left off; always playful with each other, always making each other laugh. He got her, and she got him.
There was so much to catch up on.
“I got into Malcolm Vale’s Graduate School for Bio-Chem,” she said.
“For real? That’s great. So that means you take classes around Moore’s Hall right?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, how come I haven’t seen you on campus then? I’ve had two classes there in the last week. Final year math major, by the way.”
“We just got back three days ago. I’ve missed a few classes. I attended the first one was yesterday. I hope I’m not too far behind but we’ll see,” she said placing a finger on her chin.
“Math major. I’m not surprised–you were always great at math. Do you walk to school? Maybe we can walk together tomorrow?”
“Actually, now I do. I used to drive but then realized it wasn't’ that much of a distance, and Mom needed the car than I did, so...”
“Oh, OK. I see you haven’t changed.”
He looked at her quizzically, “What do you mean?” Had he said too much?
“Still a Mommy’s boy.”
“Mommy’s boy? Now where in the world did you get that idea? I hate my mother.” They both laughed.
“I was just kidding. I meant you were always so considerate and generous. Looks like you still are. Mr. Generous.”
He liked that she said that and smiled. She still remembered. She had been calling him that since the day he saved up his lunch money so they could refill her parent’s car with gas while they were out of town for a few days. She spent all her cash and forgot to set money aside for gas. Her parents didn’t know she was using their car at the time.
“What’s your cell number?” he asked as he put his hands in his pocket and produced a Nokia cell phone.
“Actually I have no idea.” She just got a cell phone the day before. “Why don’t you dial your number with mine?”
She handed him her iphone and as he was about to enter his digits, a call came through.
“Someone’s calling you,” he said and handed it back to her.
She picked up the call, smiled and said into the receiver, “Yes, drive straight down, then turn to your left, you’ll see a white house. I’m standing outside right now. You can’t miss it.”
Jamie’s face sunk as soon as the phone rang in his hand. He saw the caller ID before giving her the cell phone -My Baby.
“That was my boyfriend,” Chelsea said. “He’s coming to help with the moving.”
“Oh awesome. Very nice of him,” he said forcing a smile through the stiffness that had taken over the muscles around the side of his lips and cheeks.
Somewhere between seeing the caller ID and discovering she had a boyfriend, his countenance had become gloomy and crestfallen. He fiddled with the strap of his backpack, cleaning off the sweat on his fingers.
“I have to head out now. Quite a bit to do today,” he said.
“Aww and I was just beginning to enjoy your company. We really need to hang out sometime. Plenty of catching up to do.”
“Sure thing Chelsea. We should.”
He stored her details on his phone and gave her another hug. They said their goodbyes. As he began to leave, he saw a black Range Rover parking behind the moving van but he kept walking.
After many steps from where he had been standing with Chelsea, he looked back from a distance and saw a tall figure step out of the car. The next time he looked back, he saw Chelsea and her boyfriend kiss.
3
One row.
Just one row of houses.
One street.
Just one street separated the rich from the poor in Elmtown. A town split in two parts, one bigger than the other both in size and lifestyle, was a coexistence of light and utter darkness.
Most people who lived in Bluewood Village had never even been to the side of the well off–they had no business there. Plus with all the trees planted there, they couldn’t even see what was on the other side.
Jamie made his way past number 23 Avanzar Drive. It was the last house on the street. On top of it, two national flags blew in the wind: one was American and the other, Canadian.
He heard once that it was owned by a Canadian diplomat, but he had never seen anyone come in or go out. Regardless, it was an intriguing edifice. Something about the number 23 and the word Avanzar always jumped out at him, but he didn’t know if it had any significance or if it reminded him of something.
He walked a little farther, turned onto Freedom Avenue, and was welcomed by the almost-dilapidated public housing complex that was home to about two hundred people. Although only a few meters away, it was a sharp contrast to the houses on Avanzar Drive.
The housing complex on Freedom Avenue was the first sign that indicated one was in Bluewood Village. Washed clothes hung over the windows of some of the apartments like capes; most of the windows were half-broken.
Jamie saw a young Hispanic woman on a balcony holding her baby as she yelled at a bald white middle-aged man drinking from a can of beer. The man walked unsteadily and stumbled away from her. Jamie wondered if he was the father of the woman’s child or just a drunk customer who didn’t want to pay. Maybe she didn’t even know who the father of the child was. He heard rumors of the people who lived in that building. Many of the other housing complexes in the area were inhabited by ex-cons, troublesome teenagers, drug dealers and gang members, but this one was nicknamed Bordello for a reason, it was known for prostitution.
A couple of guys were playing basketball on the court right beside the complex. Jamie had never gone back to play there since he was fifteen when he witnessed an African American woman being beaten by a couple of boys he had been playing with. That day he pleaded with the boys but when one of them punched him in the stomach, he knew there was nothing he could do.
He looked at the empty skateboard park next to the basketball court and remembered the first time he skated there. Although it was disturbing that the same spot where he used to play as a teenager was the scene of a murder early in the year, it wasn’t a surprise, nothing new. The bloodstains had been cleaned and the playground reopened after police finally caught the suspect.
An Autumn to Remember: A Novel (Elmtown Series Book 1) Page 1