Full Circle (12 page)

“I'm sorry, Mom.”

“You'd better be. And I think you ought to write Arthur a nice note. Tell him what it means to you.” She wanted to scream into the phone. What the hell does it mean? That she'd find a rich husband some day, that they could mark it on her pedigree? Who cared? What accomplishment was that, to curtsy at a dumb ball, being gaped at by a lot of drunks? She didn't even know who she was going to take with her, and she shuddered at the thought. She had gone out with half a dozen different boys during her last two years of school, but there had never been anyone serious, and after what had happened in Greenwich in June, there was no one she wanted to go out with at all.

“I have to go, Mom.” She was suddenly desperate to get off the phone, and when she returned to her room, she looked depressed and Sharon looked up. She was doing her nails again. It was an eternal process with both of them. Recently they had both tried beige, “Straw Hat” by Faberg6.

“She said no?”

“She said yes.”

“So? You look like someone just burst your balloon.”

“I think she did.” Tana sat down on her bed with a thump. “Shit. She got her damn friend to sign me up for some dumb coming out ball. Jesus Christ, Shar, I feel like a complete fool.”

Sharon looked up at her and started to laugh. “You mean you're going to be a debutante, Tan?”

“More or less.” Tana looked embarrassed and groaned at her friend. “How could she do that to me?”

“It might be fun.”

“For who? And what the hell's the point? It's like a big cattle drive. They shove you around in a white dress and show you off to a lot of drunks, and you're supposed to find a husband somewhere in the bunch. Pretty cute, huh?” She looked sick, and Sharon put her nail polish away.

“Who're you going to take?”

“Don't ask. She wanted Billy Durning to be my escort of course, and thank God he'll be out of town.”

“Be grateful for that.” Sharon looked pointedly at her.

“I am. But the whole thing sounds like a farce.”

“So are a lot of things in life.”

“Don't be so cynical, Shar.”

“Don't be so chicken, Tan. It'll do you good.”

“Says who?”

“Says I.” Sharon advanced towards her and tried to stare her down. “You live like a nun around here.”

“So do you. So what?”

“I don't have any choice.” Tom had never called her again, it was more than he could cope with, Sharon knew, and in truth she understood. She hadn't expected more of him. But it didn't make her life very interesting at Green Hill. “You do.”

“Never mind.”

“You've got to start going out.”

“No, I don't.” Tana looked her right in the eye. “I don't have to do a goddamn thing I don't want to do. I'm eighteen years old, and I'm free as a bird.”

“A lame duck.” Sharon stared her down. “Get out there again, Tan.” But Tana said nothing at all. She walked into the bathroom they shared with the next room, locked the door, ran a bath, and didn't come out for an hour. “I meant what I said.” Sharon's voice was husky in the darkened room, once they were both in their beds.

“About what?”

“You should start going out again.”

“So should you.”

“I will one of these days.” Sharon sighed. “Maybe over the holidays when I'm home. There's no one for me to go out with here.” And then she laughed. “Hell, Tan, I don't know what I'm complaining about. At least I've got you.”

Tana smiled at her and they chatted for a few minutes and then drifted off to sleep.

The following week Tana went home to Washington with her. They were met at the train by Sharon's father, Freeman Blake, and Tana was instantly struck by how tall and handsome he was. He was a regal looking man, with a proud, beautifully carved, almost mahogany face, broad shoulders, and Sharon's same endlessly long legs. He had a warm smile, brilliantly white teeth, and he was quick to pull his daughter into his arms and hold her tight. He knew just how much she'd been through in the last year, and she'd come through it like a champ, just as he'd known she would, and he was desperately proud of her.

“Hi, baby, how's school?” She rolled her eyes, and turned quickly towards her friend.

“Tana, this is my dad, Freeman Blake. Daddy, this is Tana Roberts, my roommate at Green Hill.” He gave Tana's hand a powerful shake and she was magnetized by his eyes and the sound of his voice on the way home. He was filling Sharon in on all the local news, her mother's appointment to an even more important post, her brother Dick's big new romance, the remodeling of the house, the neighbor's new child, his new book. It was a warm friendly patter that touched Tana's heart, and she felt envious of the life that Sharon obviously had. And she felt it even more at dinner that night in the handsome colonial dining room. They had a beautiful house with a huge lawn and backyard, three cars in the garage, one of which was a Cadillac Freeman drove, despite the rude things his friends said. But he admitted that he had always wanted a Cadillac convertible and he had one now after all these years. They were obviously all four closely knit, and Tana found Miriam more than a little formidable. She was so intelligent and so direct that it took one's breath away, and she seemed to constantly expect the ultimate of everyone. One was never safe from her questions, her demands, and her ever-searching gaze.

“See what I mean?” Sharon said when they were alone upstairs. “It's like being on the witness stand, just having dinner with her.” She had wanted to know everything Sharon had done in the last two months, and she was interested in both the incident with Tom at the movie house, and the one at the coffee shop with Tana after that.

“It's just that she cares so much, Shar … about everything!”

“I know that. And it drives me nuts. Daddy is just as smart as she is for chrissake, and he's so much gentler about everything.” He was that, he told exquisite tales, made everyone laugh, and he had a way of making everyone comfortable, of bringing them closer together and forming an irresistible bond. Tana had noticed it all night long and she thought him the most remarkable man she had ever met.

“He's the most incredible man, Shar.”

“I know.”

“I read one of bis books last year. I'm going to go home now and read them all.”

“I'll give them to you.”

“Only if I can have an autographed set.” They both laughed, and a moment later, Miriam knocked at the door, anxious to know that they were all right.

“Do you have everything you need?” Tana smiled almost shyly at her.

“I do. Thank you very much, Mrs. Blake.”

“Not at all. We're so glad you could come.” The smile was even more dazzling than Shar's, and the eyes were driving, omniscient, almost frightening they plunged so deep and so hard. “How do you like Green Hill?”

“I do. Very much. The professors are pretty interesting.” But there was a lack of enthusiasm in her voice which Miriam picked up at once.

“But?”

Tana smiled. She was sharp. Very sharp. “The atmosphere isn't as warm as I thought it would be.”

“Why is that?”

“I don't know. The girls seem to stay in cliques.”

“And the two of you?”

“We're together most of the time.” Sharon looked at Tana and smiled, and Miriam didn't seem displeased. She thought that Tana was a bright girl, and there was a lot of potential there. Far more than Tana herself knew. She was quick, she was bright, she was funny at times, but cautious, laced up. She would have to open up one day, and when she did, God only knew what would be there.

“Maybe that's your problem then, girls. Tana, how many other friends do you have at Green Hill?”

“Just Shar. We're in class together most of the time. We share the same room.”

“And you're probably being punished for that. I'm sure you realize that. If your closest friend is the only Negro girl there they're going to penalize you, you know.”

“What for?”

“Don't be naive.”

“Don't be so cynical, Mom.” Sharon sounded suddenly annoyed.

“Maybe it's time you both grew up.”

“What the hell's that supposed to mean?” Sharon lashed out at her. “Hell, I've been home for nine hours and you're already on my back with your speeches and your crusades.”

“I'm not making any speeches. I'm just telling you to face facts.” She looked at them both then. “You can't hide from the truth, girls. It isn't easy being black today … or a black girl's friend … you're both going to have to realize that and be willing to pay the price if you expect the friendship to last.”

“Can't you do anything without turning it into a political crusade, Mom?”

Miriam looked at her and then at her friend. “I want you to do something for me, both of you, before you go back to school on Sunday night. There's a man I know speaking this Sunday in Washington. He's one of the most extraordinary men I've ever known, Martin Luther King, and I want you to come listen to him with me.”

“Why?” Sharon was still glaring at her.

“Because it's something neither of you will ever forget.”

And as they rode back toward South Carolina late that night, Tana was still thinking of it. Miriam Blake had been right. He was the most visionary man Tana had ever listened to. He made everyone else seem stupid and blind, and it was hours before she could even talk about what she had heard. Simple words about being black and being a black man's friend, about civil rights and the equality of everyone, and afterwards they had sung a song, swaying together, arms crossed, holding hands. She looked at Sharon an hour after they left Washington.

“He was amazing, wasn't he?”

Sharon nodded, thinking of his words again. “You know, it feels dumb just going back to school. I feel as though I should be doing something.” She leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes, and Tana stared out into the dark night as they rode into the South. It seemed to make his words even more important than they had been. This was where it was happening, where people were being hurt, and ignored, and abused. And as the thoughts wandered through her head, she thought of the debutante party her mother had set up, and it was as though the two thoughts were so diametrically opposed that they just wouldn't fit into her head at the same time. When Sharon opened her eyes again, Tana was looking at her.

“What are you going to do?” One had to do something after hearing him. There was no choice at all. Even Freeman Blake had agreed.

“I don't know yet.” Sharon looked tired, but she had been thinking of it since they'd left Washington, of what she could do to help … in Yolan … in Green Hill … “What about you?”

“I don't know.” Tana sighed. “Anything I can, I guess. But I'll tell you, after hearing Dr. King speak, I know one thing … that party my mother is forcing me into in New York is the dumbest thing I've ever done.”

Sharon smiled. She couldn't really disagree now, but there was another side to it as well. A more small-scale, human one. “It'll do you good.”

“I doubt that.” The two girls exchanged a smile, and rode on into the South until they reached Yolan, and took one of the town's two cabs to Green Hill.

T
he train roared into Pennsylvania Station on December twenty-first just after two o'clock in the afternoon and there was a light snow falling as Tana watched. It made everything look Christmasy and almost like a fairy tale, and yet as she gathered her things, fought her way through the station, and went outside to hail a cab, she realized again how depressed she was about coming home. It made her feel instantly guilty toward Jean, and she knew that she wasn't being fair, but she would rather have been anywhere than on her way home to her own coming out dance. And she knew how excited her mother was. For the past two weeks, she had called Tana almost every night, about the guests, the flowers, the table decor, her date, her dress. She had picked the dress out for Tana herself, an exquisite white silk with white satin trim and tiny little white beads embroidered in floral patterns around the hem. It had cost a fortune, and Arthur had told her to charge it to his account at Saks.

“He's so good to us, sweetheart.…” As she rode home to the apartment in the cab, Tana could close her eyes and imagine her mother's face as she said the words … why, why was she so everlastingly grateful to him? What on earth did he do for her, except let her work her fingers to the bone, and wait for him all those times he never came when Marie was still alive … and even now, everything else always seemed to come first with him. And if he loved Jean so much, why the hell didn't he marry her? It depressed Tana to think about that too. Everything was such a goddamn farce … her mother and Arthur, how “good” the Durnings were to them, yeah, like the way Billy had been good to her … and the party she would have to go to the following night. She had invited a boy she had known for years and never liked, but he was the right type for an event like that, Chandler George III. She had gone to a couple of dances with him before, and he bored her to tears, but she knew her mother would be pleased. And she also knew that she'd have a miserable time but that couldn't be helped. Most important of all, he was harmless and polite and wouldn't do anything inappropriate.