As Fate Would Have It

Jonathan and Shelia have an up and down past. A past not forgotten. A past that has kept them wondering even after 25 years. Will fate be kind, or will it simply destroy them again?

As Fate Would Have It

I walked into the old Burch High School Gymnasium for the first time since we graduated on May 31rst, 1993. The welcoming banner read: Welcome Class of 93' It's been 25 years. I saw, for the most part, people I did not recognize, and every now and then, someone would nod at me, but I had no clue who they were. I nodded back, and hoped to escape unwanted and awkward conversation.

I missed the first two class reunions, and had not considered going to the thirty-year reunion. But as fate would have it, my class mates wanted to start doing reunions every five years, and one of my best friends begged me to go. I told him that I would since I had missed all my reunions to that date. But there was another reason I made the decision to go. 

 As I strolled out to the center of the gym, the big, grey bulldog with a blue-spiked collar, still stood proud in the middle of the gym floor. And it appeared unchanged by the effects of time. But the grey painted bulldogs on opposite sides of the court had faded and chipped and eroded. A far more fitting picture for the aging Jonathan Music. I, too, felt faded and chipped, and to some extent, eroded. A bum knee ruined a possible NFL career for me, and life seemed bleak and unfulfilling. There was something missing inside me. Something that I'd lost long ago. But it had nothing to do with football. 

A foggy mist rose up from the dance floor, and the band was playing tunes from the early nineties. Familiar songs floated the atmosphere along with memories, booze, and chatter. And the smell. The smell of that old gymnasium, the sweaty-old smell that one never forgets, brought the melancholic mood all together.

It was there where we shared our last prom, and our last dance. I remember what I told her that night. What I whispered into her left ear. The ear that boasted a diamond stud I had bought her from money I earned delivering pizzas. 

I was sweaty, nervous, jovial, and melancholic, but I remained poised and prepared. I stepped out onto the gym floor at 7:07 P.M. on September 6th, 2018, and was thrown back in time. Back to a time when she loved me. When I loved her. When she couldn't live without me. When I couldn't live without her. I wanted to see her. It had been twenty-five years since I had physically laid eyes on her. I had seen her pictures on social media sites, and we had even chatted some to catch up. 

Our most recent conversations were blatantly vague because we knew that so much more could be read between the lines. What might have been, being at the top of the list.

She was divorced once, and engaged to be married, and had a seventeen year old son. And I was married to Mary Anne Heiser for the past twenty years. We had two twin daughters, Sarah and Shea. Shea was short for Shelia. I, personally, picked that name for my daughter. 

Marry had the flu, and Sarah and Shea, were home as well getting over the same virus. I did not want to leave them as I felt Mary needed help around the house, but she told me that reunions didn't come around every year, especially a twenty-five year reunion. Go on, get out of here she told me.

 So, I jumped in my Ford Mustang GT, V8, feeling teenage like again, and hauled a*s to Delbarton, West Virginia with so many memories on my mind. But one memory kept the petal to the metal, and she promised she would be there. 

                                                                                 *

"One vodka, please. Warm and straight, no rocks." I told the waiter. He reached me my drink, and I took it from his hand.

"Oh, my God, Jon Music!" A hoarse voice said.

I turned completely around from the drink table to greet this authentic, yet familiar sound. I knew her, but my memory was cloudy. I blinked. Flashes of the cheerleading squad, and the football team came to mind. And then, I saw her round face, singing drunk on the bus as we traveled back from Gilbert that night in November of ninety-two. She flashed her b***s to whomever gained the most yards, and she mooned the pine riders. She was nuts! I could not stop the s**t eating grin from appearing on my face.

"Jenny. Jenny Mills! The bulldog-party girl in the flesh!" I said.

 I sat my warm vodka back on the table, and grabbed this heaping woman and squeezed. She was not so little then, and time had increased her size, considerably. She was still as bubbly and lively as ever. 

"You're taller than I remember." Jenny looked me up and down without missing a beat. "So, I saw on social media that you have a beautiful family. Those little girls look just like you. They have your blue eyes." She paused, taking a sip of what smelled like bourbon and coke. "So what are you into these days?" She asked, pushing her glasses back up on the bridge of her pronounced nose. 

I kept one eye on the entrance door, and one eye on Jenny. I tried to be as conspicuous as I could, as to not be rude. I said, "Oh, me. I am a drug rep for Proventive Inhalers Inc."

"I bet those skimpy, little doctors and nurses eat you up when you come in their offices." She said, spilling her drink on her white-blouse top.

"Be careful, now. The party's just getting started." I said. I reached her a white paper napkin.

I really wanted to talk to Jenny, but only one thing, one person was on my mind. To be polite, I said, "So, what are you into?" She wiped at her blouse, but the stain was there for the rest of the night. 

 I peered at the door as she was about to answer me, but someone caught her eye. She had the attention span of a knat. 

"Oh, my God! There's Jimmy White! Oh, my God! I'll catch up with you later, honey. I going to get me a man tonight!" She fluffed her big hair, and waved the white napkin at me, and prattled off. 

 I grabbed my vodka drink, and sat down on the hard, blue bleachers with my eyes on the entrance door. I could not help but smile as I watched the party girl in action. Jimmy was laughing and staggering, and he appeared to be engaged in her conversation, or just admiring her b***s.

 I sat there sipping my vodka, thinking back to that night, the very night I told her. I stared at the very spot where I said it.

 It was on the foul line at the north end of the ball court. We were waltzing, hand in hand, slowly gliding back and forth, and holding on to a moment that would soon leave us. At the time, we didn't know it, and we didn't want it. We thought we'd be together forever, but things changed, as they so often do. But some things never change. I sat there, my vodka almost gone, still wrapped up in the mood, and feeling heat in my cheeks. I sat my drink down beside me, and walked up to the back bleachers, and found where we carved our names. Our names, Jon loves Shelia, still stood out, and had survived twenty-five years of other lovers who had put their names there, too. I smiled as I rubbed my right hand over the engravement.

"Jon Music!" A loud, deep sound jolted my senses. "I swear, dude, you always sit in that same spot. Trim and fit I see, but you're still not as good looking as me."

I jumped and faced center, and then I stood up and walked down the bleachers to the first row to greet the beast who called my name. "Look at you! Big guy! Come here and give me a hug!" I said.

I blinked at this mountain of a man who used to be so skinny that he made stick figures look fat. Back then, he was long and lanky, and hell on wheels. He had the smallest ears I had ever seen, and his voice was squeaky. He never had much luck with the ladies either. But it looked like things had changed for the better, as his date was a very good looking woman.

"Malcom "Mousy" Baisden! My God man, you've did a three-sixty. Look at you! I bet you can bench press four-hundred pounds!" I said, as Mousy, my best friend, nearly squeezed my rib cage together.

Mousy had came to see me fifteen years ago in Knoxville, and we went to watch the Big Orange play football. We had a blast, but after that we lost touch. Then as I became more social media educated, we found each other again, and stayed connected. And he was partly the reason I came to the reunion. Only partly.

I'd seen his pictures, but in person, he looked so much bigger. This guy had muscles overlapping muscles. He looked uncomfortable, as if he was going to explode. His neck was bulging. Big veins protruded from what little neck he had. His hair was brown, thinning, wet, and slicked-back, but he made it work. It looked good on him. 

Then he said something else. Something that made my stomach flutter. The name that rolled off his muscular tongue. The name that was carved in the bleachers, just three rows back along with mine. I shook my head, then looked at the door, still no sign of her, but then he said it again. 

"Shelia Buff is in the parking lot, man. And there she is right now." He pointed.

My stare followed his finger as he pointed to the door. I melted like butter in a microwave. She stepped out onto the gym floor wearing a bright, red dress. She told me to look for her wearing my favorite color. She kept her promise. She looked stunning from a distance. A silence followed and jaws dropped. Not just mine, but Mousy's too. "Damn, she's hot!" Mousy said.

"No offense to you, honey." He said to his voluptuous escort. "Oh, where's my manners. Jon, Amber. Amber, Jon."

I shook Amber's hand. "Nice to meet you." I said.

I looked towards the door, and I saw her. I saw the woman who promised she'd be mine forever. I saw the woman I was intimate with in high school. I saw the woman I was supposed to marry. And For the first time in twenty-five years, I laid eyes on the woman who affected me like no other woman on the planet, including my dear, sweet wife, Mary Anne.

Shelia strolled across the gym floor, and was looking around, as if she was lost in the moment. She still walked with her torso leaning forward, and she was graceful in her stroll. I wondered if she had the same thoughts I had when I first came in. I wondered if she remembered what I told her that night.

 I saw people flock to her like birds to bird seed, as if they were begging for morsels. Mostly men, and my nemesis, Gordon Prater, whom I didn't know was there until she came in. I, instantly, became jealous, as the old rival wrapped his fat arms around her. She smiled at him, and returned the embrace.

 "Is that b*****d here?" I said.

"Yeah, what'd she ever see in him." Mousy said, staring at them on the far end of the gym. "You want a drink, baby? Jon, you want a refill?" Mousy asked.

"Yeah, a vod..."

"I know what you like. Vodka straight, warm, and no rocks." He interrupted. "Damn, this place ain't changed a bit." He echoed, running his fingers through his slick backed hair.

My gaze became focused on Shelia, and then I realized that I should indulge in some form of conversation with Mousy's timid girlfriend. 

"Malcom sure is something." I said, looking at her small, round face, and her tight fitting, short-skirt. She too looked uncomfortable.

"Yeah, I don't know what I'd do without him." She said, while gawking at my nemesis, Gordon, who had finally let go of Shelia.

 "Is that guy over there married?" Amber pointed. 

Amber was not so timid after all.

 Shocked I said, "Who, Gordon?"

"Yeah, him." She pointed. 

"I don't know." I said. "But he does have lots of money."

"Here we go. One vodka like you like it, and one pinna collate for the lady." Mousy said, reaching our drinks. "I'll drink bourbon now, and bourbon later." He said.

He moved his arms and shoulders back and forth to ruffle his black-blazer jacket back into a more comfortable position, and tugged at the belt of his black, dress-pants. 

I took the drink form him, my hands noticeably trembling. "Thanks my friend." I said. "Have a seat." We sat there admiring Shelia as she searched for us. "Glad I came, man. I really am."

"Me too! I thought you wouldn't, but you proved me wrong. And I see another reason you might be glad you came. Look at her!" Mousy said.

Mousy was right, Shelia was another reason I came. The main reason. Shelia turned and gracefully swayed over to the drink table, leaving a trail of morsels for the birds she'd left behind. Even Jimmy White was looking her up and down while Jenny was chatting with another dude, whom I did not recognize. I thought maybe I should shoot her a text and let her know I'm here. So, I snagged my I-phone from my pocket and texted. I see you. I'm at the north end with Mousy. Jon. I hit send. She reached inside her black-velvet purse and looked at her phone, then looked right at us, but could not see us. I waved and motioned with my right arm as she scanned the bleachers. She saw us and walked in our direction. 

My stomach felt as though a thousand humming birds were flapping their wings inside me. I began to perspire under my arms. I performed a quick self-test by sniffing my pits, while pretending to rub my chin on my shirt, just to be sure. I felt my hands get damp, and small beads of sweat were on my forehead. I wiped the dampness from my head, and sat the vodka down on the bleachers. I stood to my feet to greet her. And there she was, the woman who truly owned my heart.

Mousy took Amber by the hand and helped her up, and said, "Jon, me and Amber are gonna mingle, and let you mingle with Shelia." Mousy paused, reached his right hand out to Shelia. "Shelia, how the hell are you? And you owe me a hug." He winked.

 Shelia shook his hand. "Good. And good to see ya."

Mousy went through a brief introduction of his escort, then winked at me, and he lead Amber over to meet Gordon Prater. I was not sure if he did it to spite Gordon, but knowing Mousy, I was pretty sure he did it to be facetious. Just for me. And I was pretty sure that Amber wanted to meet the rich and handsome Gordon, as well.

"He's the size of a coal truck now, but he's still the same ole Mousy." Shelia said.

"He sure is." I said. "Remember when Jenny flashed him, how red his face got?"

"How could I forget that." Shelia smiled. "His face is still red."

We were still standing at the moment, I was on her left side, and she turned to face me. My heart sank, my stomach flopped, and the humming birds multiplied. I began at the top of her head observing the beauty, and her striking sex appeal. Her hair was still dark, but a few grey streaks made her hair more stunning. And her three-quarter, Cherokee Indian-skin, peeked through her red, sleeveless dress, where the V was, to give a glimpse of her cleavage.  She still had it. Age was not a factor, nor a hindrance to her beauty.

The lights of the gym went dim. The fog rose, and covered the bulldog in the middle of the floor. The lead singer of the band, said, "Let's groove into some slower tunes, for the night is young." The lead guitarist rang out a few notes from his telecaster, and as fate would have it, the band played our favorite song, What might have been.

I said, "Shall we?" I took her by the hand, and electricity jolted through my body.

Shelia said, "We shall."

The stage lights sparkled in the mysterious darkness of Shelia's eyes. I gazed at her as naturally as I did twenty-five years ago, but with less acne on my face. As we waltzed, the electricity still flowed through me, I said, "Do you remember what I told you twenty-five years ago on this very spot?"

 She whispered. "How can I forget. It's ironic, isn't it, and here we are."

Then she laid her head on my shoulder, and that's when I noticed the diamond stud earring in her left ear. "I can't believe you kept those all these years." I said.

We glided back and forth, trying not to bump into anyone. It had been awhile since I had waltzed, and it appeared I had two left feet. I then realized, I had not waltzed with anyone since that spring night in May of ninety-three. That night when I held her. That night I told her. 

"And why would I not keep them? You worked your a*s off to buy them for me, plus they are very special."

 She licked her chapped lips, and swiped a loose lock of hair away from her face. I saw the scar on her forehead, that looked like a small checkmark. I knew she got the scar from a hot curling iron because she was running late for school that morning. I rubbed it with my thumb. And for a moment, we locked gazes, and stared into each other's souls, as if we were telepathically conveying seductive thoughts. Thoughts we'd shared before.

I felt my heart throbbing hard in my neck. I felt jolting impulses in my groin area. I felt aroused and intoxicated with her scent. A scent I had not forgotten. A sweet scent of her Indian cells, her hair, and her breath. 

"You know, I'd do anything for you." I paused, then cleared my throat. "Even now." I said, not thinking of Mary Anne, but not forgetting about Mary Anne's little secret, either. 

Shelia gazed at me, her dark eyes beckoning, as if to say, I'd do anything for you. I pulled her slender frame to mine, and held her even closer to my trembling body. Then she said, "I'd do anything for you. And I'm sorry for what I did to you. You don't know  how sorry I am."

"It's not like you had much of a choice. I mean, you were nineteen, and I moved to Knoxville to attend UT." I said. "It was my fault, too, you know. I left you to play football, and Gordon moved in for the kill. I still hate that b*****d."

We shuffled close to the stage, and then we eased back towards the center of the floor. Gordon strolled by us with a younger woman. She had to be in her early thirties. We exchanged frowns, and I focused my attention back to Shelia.

"He's still a jerk!" Shelia said. "I was young and naïve. I didn't think you were coming back to me, and I guess I panicked. I was mad at you for awhile. And he had money, something I never had. And he was a safe bet for me." 

I stroked her hair with my left hand, and said, "Forgive me. I am sorry."

"Forgive me." Shelia said.

Mrs. Jennings, our former English teacher, came waltzing by in a big, white, ruffled dress, that she probably wore in the fifties. 

She said "I'd know that pug nose anywhere! Exclamation point. " She said. "How the hell are ya, comma, Mr. Music? Question mark."

Mrs. Jennings's teaching style was unique indeed. When talking to her students, she'd always verbally punctuate her sentences to make it stick in our heads. It worked for me then, and I never forgot how to punctuate basic sentences.

"I'm fine." I said, still clinging tightly to Shelia's waist. I did not punctuate my reply.

"How about you, comma, Mrs. Buff? Question mark."

"I'm well, thank you. It's good to see you." Shelia did not punctuated either, but she giggled. "Good to see you both. You two should have stayed together. You were the cutest couple." She stuttered.

Me and Shelia giggled as she and some wrinkled-faced man glided very slowly across the gym floor, disappearing in the haze. Soused and giddy.

"Marrying Gordon Baisden was the biggest mistake I ever made." Shelia said. 

"When I found out that you married him, I decided to stay in Tennessee. At that time I didn't wanna see you again. But as time went by, I forgave you because I realized that it was life's own cruelty that made us part. We were screwed, that's all."

I never dreamed, in a million years, that Shelia would ever forgive me for running off to play football for Tennessee. It was a last second decision on my part. It was either Marshall or UT, and I chose the bigger school, UT. I assumed that she would understand, and that I could come back home on the weekends to see her, but attending class and holding down a part-time job, made it impossible. 

Shelia Buff had a full time job, and was going to Marshall at the time to get her teaching degree, so our time together was completely used up by our schedules, and I was an idiot for not going to the same school with her. So, in going to UT, I messed up my knee after just five practices, and ended my football career forever.

 I had my eyes on the exit door, and getting out of there seemed like a great idea, but I didn't want to seem to eager to get her alone. The song was winding down, and Jenny and Jimmy crashed by us, doing whatever dance they were doing. It looked like dirty waltzing. Her b***s were everywhere. Me and Shelia laughed.

 Our song ended, and Mousy came over to give Shelia the hug he'd missed earlier. They embraced. 

"It's so good to see, ya. Buff. Did y'all see Mrs. Jennings? I swear to God, I love that lady." 

Mousy grabbed Shelia and almost lifted her off the floor.

"Good to see you, too." Shelia grunted.

"Easy big guy, don't break her." I said.

"Hey guys, we gonna go over to the south side mall to cruise in a bit, just like the old days. y'all wanna come ttt...too." Jenny stuttered as she held to Jimmy White's neck to keep her balance.

"I'm in!" Mousy said, combing his big fingers through his greasy hair.

"Yeah! y'all wanna come, too?" Jimmy whaled loudly.

"Hey, Jimmy White, Good to see you. It's been a long time." I said.

I reached my hand out to Jimmy. His hand met mine. 

"Good to s..see you, Music." Jimmy slurred.

Going to a mall was not the exit I was looking for, but feeling young again, I looked at Shelia, and raised my eyebrows, and said, "You want to?"

"Why the hell not. It'll be fun." Shelia said.

                                           *

Shelia and I, bailed on the mall cruise early so we could spend time alone, and we had seen enough of Jenny's b***s to last a lifetime. So we left South Williamson, and drove back to the place where we knew each other for the first time. It was there, Buffalo Mountain where we first made love. Buffalo mountain was not as desolate as I remembered. When we were young there was a gravel cove off the to the left side of the road, it was the perfect place, back then, to park. Four-wheeler, trail-rider's cabins now sprung out from the mountain side like dandelions in the spring, and there was a picnic area where the cove used to be. We parked there to riminess underneath the constellations.

My hands clung to her thighs, and our eyes were locked. Her buttocks rested on the warm, red hood of my Mustang, and her arms rested on my shoulders. I did not stop the natural process that was taking place, instead, I embraced it. 

"Will you say it again?" Shelia said.

"Say what." I paused, then realized what she meant. "Of course I will." I waited for my brain to rehearse my thought before I made the plunge.  Then I said, "I told you that I wanted to be holding you in my arms twenty-five years from now. And..."

Shelia interrupted. "And, you said, I love you now, I will love you always." 

The moonlight sparkled in her big, dark eyes, and her lips were damp like the mountain air. I pulled her close to me, and kissed her lips, then pulled back to see her reaction. Her eyes were closed, as if she was absorbing the moment. Then she opened her eyes slowly.

"Did you mean what you said?" Shelia asked, licking her lips. 

"You know I did, and I do, Shelia. Life was cruel to you and me. We had what most people dream of, and we still got it, even after all these years." I said, gripping her hips tighter. "Do you deny it?"

She gazed at me with her arms wrapped around my neck tightly. She sighed, then pulled me in hard, and kissed me. She didn't pull back. She wrapped her legs around my torso, and I pulled her closer as we kissed passionately. 

She said, "No, I do not deny it." 

I wanted her. She wanted me. We wanted each other, and nothing stood in the way, except the wrinkled clothes between us. I pulled her from the hood of my car, and carried her to the passenger's side. I, gently, laid her limp body in the seat. I shut the door, but not before I admired her beautiful body wrapped in the red dress. The red dress she wore just for me. 

 

                                                                                    *

I thought of her as I drove home. I thought of our moments in the motel room. Shelia, the red dress, and how I helped her out of it. I kissed the scar on her forehead, then kissed the mole just below her naval, and just above the seam of her panties. Her scent still fresh in my nose, like a fragrant, burning candle with an eternal flame. She was all over me, and my mind replayed those intimate images over and over and over. 

I was in Wise Virginia when I got the call. It was Mousy. His voice was deep, but it sounded thick and wet, and he was breathing heavy. He mumbled something, but I couldn't make it out. I thought he was drunk, and wanted to quiz me on my time with Shelia, but that wasn't the case. His voice said, "Are you driving right now."

"Yeah, I'm driving. What else would I be doing?" I said.

"Find a place and get off the damn road." Mousy said.

I knew Mousy long enough to know that when he spoke in that tone, the same tone he used before he thumped big Dave's a*s in school, to take it seriously. 

"What's wrong? You in trouble?" I asked.

"Just pull off the road." He said.

Sitting in a parking lot at a food store, I left the car running because it was hot as hell. I then said, "I'm parked now. What is so important that you made me stop?"

I had never seen Mousy cry, nor ever heard him cry. He burst into tears over the phone. 

I said, "Mousy, what the hell is wrong?"

After he composed himself, he asked one more time. "Are you parked."

"Yes, now tell me what the hell is wrong!" I said.

                                                                                 *

It was October, and my life had been shattered. I had even contemplated suicide, as dealing with what had happened changed me forever. I would never be the same. I would never hold her in my arms again. I would never kiss her lips again. I would never kiss her forehead, or kiss her mole again. I would never get to tell her that I loved her again.

Thinking of her, consumed my thoughts, day in and day out, and it had only been a little over a month when it happened. When I got the news, that day from Mousy, that very day when I wanted to die. That day that shook me to the core. That day, September 8th, 2018. I curse that day. It was the day when Mousy said, "Dude, Shelia was killed in a car accident on her way back home to Michigan."

Mary Anne was in the flower garden, and I was sitting on the porch watching her work, but I was really watching me and Shelia and our final moments together. That night on the dance floor, our talk on Buffalo Mountain, that night in the motel. I could not see her face, for it's like it had all become a nightmare. I could only see her Cherokee skin, and her red dress. Why? I wondered. How could I forget her face, someone so beautiful, someone I loved so much. I felt guilty. How in the hell does someone forget a face such as hers.

 Then Mary Anne turned from the garden, and said, "climb out of your thoughts, and help me in the garden, dear." 

I wanted to tell her everything, but some things are better left alone. Mary cheated on me, and I cheated on her. I guess that made us even, but I knew I would never love Mary Anne like I did Shelia. As fate would have it, I lost the only woman in the world I ever truly loved. The only woman who affected me, and played heart my strings like a cello. The only woman who would haunt me for the rest of my days here on this God forsaken planet called earth.