Chapter Four

David meets a damaged Stella

Monday, February 1, 2010

A short woman with short curly hair and brown thin-rimmed glasses appeared in the doorway. She wore a tan-colored business suit with a satin red scarf tucked around her neck.

“Mrs. Rollins?”

“Yes, I’m Carla Rollins”

“My name is David Cole. I e-mailed you about talking with Stella. I’m Mark Johnson’s friend.”

“Oh yes…do come in!” her curious look melted into a warm smile. She invited him into Rollins' two-story, Spanish style home. “Did you find your way here OK?”

“Yeah, it’s just as you said, straight down Blossom Hill Boulevard, left on Chesbro.”

“Good, usually it gets congested when you take the 85, but I’m glad you got here.”

David took in the home's brown-and-beige furniture decor. Skylights overlooked the kitchen and dining room, although it was dark outside when David arrived. He sat in the living room, taking note of the crystal cross and Jeremiah 29:11 scripture picture frame on the fireplace mantel.

Mrs. Rollins reappeared with two glasses of orange juice, and handed one to David.

"Thank you.” David took the glass and sipped some juice.

"No. Thank you," she replied. "I’m glad you can come. I know you're motivtional speaker, but you have another occupation, correct?”

“I work for a credit union. We actually help people with small business loans, but we also act as liasons for our clients who need loan modifications from their mortgage lenders.”

“I heard about the loan mod program �" the approved by the Obama Administration. Are those always successful?”

“Not always, but so far, some of our clients have had success .”

“I work in real estate, which has been hit pretty hard from the economy. A lot of the properties I sell have been foreclosed.”

David nodded. “That's awful. I rent, but many of our clients are worried about foreclosure.” He looked up and noticed a picture of a girl on the fireplace mantle. “Is that Stella?”

Carla stood up, retreived the picture and handed it to David before sitting down. Stella was an olive-skinned girl with long, dark brownish hair that fell in curls down her back. She had two tiny dimples on her left cheek. Her brown eyes sparked and her oval face and bright smile lit up the photo. “Stella's nineteen in that picture. She's twenty-one now. She has a sister, Rachel, who's twenty-four and attending a private Christian college out of state.”

“Interesting. My brother’s two years older than me.”

“Really? Does he go to your church also?”

“No, not right now. He’s actually going to a small church in San Jose.” That was a lie, but David figured she didn’t need to know Nick’s new church was a liquor store.

Carla looked toward the stairs and then to the carpet briefly. "Stella's upstairs in bed, staring at the computer, as usual. That's what she does...stays in her bed and sleeps, or surfs the computer. She hardly eats. She hardly talks to us,” Carla wrung her fingers a bit. “Recently, she's gone out and come back, totally drunk and cussing. Sometimes she's out all night.I know she's an adult, but the way she shuts herself off at times frightens me,” she drank some orange juice quickly before wringing her fingers once more. "She doesn’t talk to us about what happened.” Carla looked down, trying to compose herself.

David stared at Stella's picture for a long minute. “And-and this has been for how long?”

Carla sniffed back a tear. “The shooting was in November 2008, so she’s been like that since then. In the beginning she was a lot worse �" daily nightmares, days of just staring int space. Sometimes I think she’s doing better �" at least she’s coming out of her room more.” She paused for a breath. “We tried to get her to go to counseling, at church, even privately. But she doesn’t want to go, or she says she’s not ready.”

Carla moved her hands over her head and through her hair, exhaling slowly. “We’ve been praying, we’ve been asking God why.”

He nodded, wordlessly.

I don’t know if I want to do this.

He plastered a consoling smile with the words, “I know it's hard.”

Carla nodded with another sniffle. “She saw so much tragedy. I'm sure you know the story.”

David nodded hesitantly, “I remember watching news about the gunman, about him feeling invisible and that this was why he....you know....”

Carla bit her lip, got up, went to the bookshelf, and pulled out a newspaper article. She handed it to David. Memories of those news reports came to his mind - CNN at the campus student union and CNN reporters reporting on the 10 students injured and two people killed. They compared it to previous school shootings, such as the one at Virginia Tech and Columbine.

"The student who was killed, Tracy Reynold's, was Stella's best friend." She pointed to the picture of a young black man with oval eyes and a toothy grin. "I met him once when I visited her in Sacramento. I got the impression he was really trying to make something of his life �" he grew up in Oakland in a bad area, you know, so he probably went University of Sacrament to get away from the gangs. He and Stella met on campus the year before, were best friends since." She brushed away a tear that escaped from her left eye. "They...they hadn't been in the student union that long when it happened.”

David reviewed the article, remembering the horrific story. The gunman had been a college junior, Jared Lan, who was highly intelligent but extremely quiet and disturbed, according to news article. He had walked into the university's multi-level student union just after 1 p.m., specifically targeting an engineering professor who had been meeting with a group of students in a community room on the second floor. News reports indicated that Lan waited until after the meeting ended, and that he shot and killed the professor first after that professor spoke to a student. Then, with a semiautomatic gun in each hand, Lan started shooting people at random.

“Tracy was the student the professor spoke with before he was killed �" he was taking an engineering class.” Carla clasped her hands together tightly. “After the shooter killed Tracy, he almost killed Stella, but by then campus police had arrived. That's when he grabbed Stella and held a gun to her head….” The conversation hung in the air and Carla bit her lip to keep from crying.

"It's a miracle she didn’t die,” David replied softly.

Carla nodded. “It had to be the most frightening experience in her life.” She handed David the article and sat back down on the couch. David stared at the article before shifting his eyes to the Stella's picture, which he held in the other hand. She smiled back at him in it.

Wow, she’s beautiful, David thought. He could visibly imagine what she felt. He looked at her and thought of Nick �" and of Robert.

Robert

“Mark told me you’d be able to relate to her because you'd suffered a similar tragedy, though he didn’t go into detail,” Carla said. “I know you're a motivational speaker to youth groups and high school students.”

David nodded, placing the article and picture on the coffee table. “I do several speaking engagments a month,” he looked down, not sure if he should talk about that on the heels of hearing about Stella's horrible experience.

“Can I ask about what happened to you?”

David nodded slowly. “Do you remember the Indonesian Tsunami?"

"Yes I do. Awful! You were there?"

“My brother and I. We survived it."

"Oh my goodness!” Carla gasped. “I'm so sorry. I didn’t know."

Please don't ask me any details, he thought. She didn’t.

"You've seen some pretty awful things too. You can tell her about your survival.” She got up. “I’ll go get her.”

David waited on the couch after she left the room, wondering why he couldn't even open up about the tsunami when he often used it as leverage to reach teenagers. He was still wondering when Carla returned with Stella.

The bright picture of Stella stood in stark contrast to the young woman before him. She had dark circles under her eyes, a gaunt face, and a sad, hopeless look. Her vibrant dark-brownish hair appeared lifeless, and dull as it drooped down her back. She wore an oversized sweater, pajama bottoms and fuzzy slippers on her feet. She shifted her eyes from her mother to the floor, hiding that hopeless look. Still, David could see that she was pretty under the depressive garb.

Stella lifted her eyes directly to him, and her lips parted, as if she were about to speak. But then she quickly looked away and pulled her cell phone out of her pajama pocket to send a text.

“Stella can you put your phone away? We have a guest.”

She looked at her mother and then at David.

“I’m David Cole.”

“Who are you?’ she snapped.

“He’s a friend,” Carla replied.

“Not my friend.” Her fingers continued to work the keypad.

Carla continued. “He goes to a church in Mountin View. He does speaking engagements for high school and college students. I thought you two might talk.”

“You trying to save me again ?” Stella retorted.

“No. I just want you to talk to someone.”

Stella glanced at David. He smiled and held out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

She ignored the hand. “You a Christian?”

“Uh…yeah.” David answered with a hint of “duh” in his voice. Carla didn’t notice.

“You can leave now. I’m not interested in pat-pat answers,” she informed him before she turned and headed toward the stairs.

“Stella!”

“Mom, please!”

She went to her daughter. “Will you at least talk with him for a few minutes?”

Stella shot her mother an irritable glance before she reluctantly shifted her gaze to David. “Fine,” she sighed.

She walked back and flopped into one of the brown chairs, still holding her phone. She slipped her phone in her pajama bottom pocket, before tossing her hair back to look at him. David felt like he was talking to a rebellious sixteen-year-old.

“How old are you?” he asked.

“I’ll be twenty-two in May.”

“What are you studying?

Stella sighed angrily. “Don’t know, don’t care.”

David took in a short breath and faced her. “Are you angry?”

“ I'm fine,” she said flatly.

“I wanted talk to you about,” he exhaled slightly. “...what happened.”

She perked up and looked at him.

“What are you talking about?”

He leaned in toward her. . “I spoke with your parents, about the shooting, and I wanted to talk with you about how you were feeling.”

“No!” she snapped, jumping out of the chair quickly. “Get the heck out of here.”

He stood, too. “Wait �"“

“Mom!” Stella wailed with anger. “I told you to leave me alone about this! Please!” She threw up her hands and stormed out of the room. As she bounded up the stairs David saw Carla go after her. While they argued, he slipped quietly out of the house, got into his Acura TSX and took off, maneuvering through a few residential streets before finding his way back to Blossom Hill Road and the freeway. As he did, he jammed a a Skillet CD into the player and prayed for God to calm his anger.

I told you I didn’t want to do this Father. I told you.

He was not going back.

For one, she acted like a jerk, although that wasn’t the only reason for his frustration. Why else was he mad?

He knew why. Stella reminded him of Nick.

Author's Note

Let me know what you think

Reviews

[MJReed]

nice. Good choice on the music, by the way. I used to be really into Skillet. I still enjoy listening every now and then.

[Joanna Johnson]

Thanks....yeah I like Skillet, although I prefer Jars of Clay and Newsboys.

[MJReed]

I used to be really into Newsboys and JoC, but i've since discovered other genres I like more. TO give you an idea of how long it's been since I listened to Newsboys and JoC, The last album by the newsboys I heard was "Shine: The Hits", and Jars of clay was "If I left the Zoo.." Both on Cassette tape..

[Joanna Johnson]

that's a while back...lol.
I too listen to other genres, and yes, I listen to secular music. I'm just selective of what kind of secular music. Right now i'm into south african house music. i still love my alternative rock, JoC, and songs from city harmonic, paper tongues, and classical and opera