The Pages We Forget (28 page)

June loved him, too, and she had loved him since the first time she saw him get out of his parents' car and then climb the chinaberry tree in the yard next door. Now they were graduating from high school, preparing for college, and a life of perpetual bliss. This night was their beginning. She was ready to give herself to him. No one told her she was making love to a damaged man and that getting too close to a man who'd been touched by unwanted hands could sometimes be the worst thing a woman who loves him can do.

“Junie, I just wanted to say thanks for covering for me the other day when I missed baseball practice,” June read one of Keith's old letters aloud as she sat on the couch in her mother's living room. “Coach Rickards was really upset and going to suspend me for a game, but when you told him that you were sick and that I was with you because your mother was out of town, he excused me. You know, Junie, I don't understand why Coach gets so mad with me about little things. He doesn't get mad with everybody else like he gets mad at me. I think it's because he lives next door to me and knows my folks so well.”

June was glad to finally have some time to herself. Kathryn and Lucy Kaye were shopping and planning her wedding, which was set for the following Saturday. Alex and Willie had driven Bernard and Leatrice to Tallahassee to catch a plane back to Detroit so they could deal with the media frenzy surrounding her illness and upcoming wedding. Alex insisted that Joe stay with June and Trevor, even though he knew there was no safer place on the planet for them. Trevor was at Coach Rickards' playing catch with the new glove Coach had given him the day before. And, June had sent Joe to town to get doughnut holes from her mother's bakery.

“Can I ask you something, Junie?” she read from another letter. “That's okay. I better not. It's nothing. I was going to ask if you've
ever been to or heard of another town like Hampton Springs. If I had to live somewhere else, it would need to be a town just like this. Everything is so simple, so beautiful here. My only problem with Hampton Springs is some people aren't who they appear to be. I hope they're not like that everywhere.”

When she asked him who he was referring to, he told her, “No one in particular.” June knew he wasn't being totally truthful, but she didn't push the issue. Instead, she folded the letter and put it with the other letters he wrote. A thousand readings later, she still wondered what he meant when he wrote, “People aren't who they appear to be.”

June looked up and stared at the straw pocketbook on the end table. It was overflowing with Keith's letters. She had read each and every one of them more times than she cared to remember hoping to find answers to the question that had plagued her since the morning Keith tiptoed out of the room with tears in his eyes while she lay in bed pretending to be asleep: Why did he leave? However, today, instead of pondering why Keith left, she wondered aloud, “Why didn't I say something? Why did I just lie there pretending not to see his tears?”

The doorbell rang.

June looked up and saw Keith standing at the door. She hid the letters under the crocheted blanket covering her legs and then waved her hand for him to come in. She straightened the pink and green scarf tied around her hair and pulled the blanket up to her lap. When the door opened, she smiled. “Hi.”

He smiled back, closing the door behind him. He sat in a chair across from the couch. “I was just dropping by to check on you. So, how does it feel to be thirty?”

“Pretty good, I think,” June answered. “How have you been?”

“Okay.” Keith looked at the fireplace mantle lined with pictures of June, her mother and father, her Uncle Ben and their prom picture. “I saw you outside this morning. I was going to come out with you, but I figured you already had enough company with your mom, my mom, Alex, Trevor, and everybody else on Bacon Street.”

June laughed. “You may not believe this, but I had no idea everybody was going to show up like that. I figured it would be Trevor, Alex and me. Actually, I was a little surprised at Alex, he never gets up with me.” She wanted him to turn and look at her, so she could stare into his eyes. She never grew tired of losing herself in his deep brown eyes when they were young and in love. “I was really hoping you'd be there with me. How long has it been?”

He quickly changed the subject. “Alex told me you said yes.”

“I know.” June tried to gauge his reaction, but his face was barren. There was nothing to go on. No frowns. No smiles. No signs to read. So she inquired. “And?”

“And I think you made a good choice.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

That wasn't the response she'd hoped for, but it was the one she expected. “Keith, can I ask a huge favor of you?”

He hesitated. “It depends on what it is.”

“It has nothing to do with that,” she assured him with a smile.

“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed anything.”

“Will you give me away?”

“What?”

“I want you to give me away.”

Keith looked confused. “Me?”

“Usually, the bride's father gives her away,” June explained, “but
my father's not here. And I can't think of anyone else I'd rather have give me away than you. Please.”

“All right, I'll do it.” Keith smiled. “That is if Trevor doesn't mind. By the way, where is he?”

“Over at Coach Rickard's playing.”

“No! No! No! No!” Keith dashed frantically out the door.

The line had been crossed, and until now, June had been too blind to see it in Keith's eyes. Feel it in his touch. Or read about it in the letters he'd written. It was all there in his letters. Suddenly, she felt the enormous weight of realization crashing down upon her.

“Oh God, no!” June struggled to get to her feet and then to the door. The pain was unbearable, but she had to get outside. “Trevor! Trevor!” She pushed the screen door open and fell on the porch. “Keith!”

Keith was running. Running toward the footsteps in the dark. Toward the whispered words. The unwanted touch. Running. Running. Running.

“Somebody help me!” June yelled as she crawled to the edge of the porch. “Trevor!”

Lucy Kaye saw June as soon as she and Kathryn pulled into the driveway. Kathryn saw Keith first and the car came to a screeching halt. They both jumped out of the car.

“What happened?” Kathryn yelled as she ran toward the porch with Lucy Kaye right behind her. “What's wrong with Keith?”

“Keith?” Lucy Kaye stopped in her tracks. “Where's Keith?”

“Stop him, Ma,” June cried. “He's gone to Coach Rickards'! You have to stop him!”

“What's wrong?” Lucy Kaye was hysterical now. “What?”

“Coach was the reason he left!”

“What do you mean the reason he left?” Kathryn asked and reached for Lucy Kaye's trembling hand.

“I'll explain later! Just get him!”

Kathryn couldn't hold Lucy Kaye. Like her son, she was running. “Lucy,” Kathryn yelled. “Come back!”

Alex had to swerve to the side of the road to keep from hitting Lucy Kaye. When he flung the car door open, it almost knocked Kathryn down as she rushed out of the yard behind her friend.

“Alex!” June was struggling to get down the steps. “Alex!” He started toward the porch, but June waved for him to follow her mother. “No! Get Trevor! Get Trevor!”

“Help her!” Alex instructed Willie before taking off behind
Lucy Kaye and Kathryn. “And don't let her out of your sight!”

Coach Rickards was throwing the baseball to Trevor when Keith burst through the gate. Trevor, startled by Keith's sudden and alarming appearance, turned away and the ball hit him on the side of the head, knocking him to the ground.

“Trevor!” Keith ran over to Trevor and kneeled beside him. After making sure Trevor was all right, he turned to Coach Rickards. “Stay away from him! Do you hear me? Stay away from him!”

“Trevor! Trevor!” Alex rushed past Lucy Kaye and Kathryn, through the gate, and over to where Trevor was lying on the ground. “What happened?”

“We were playing catch,” Coach Rickards tried to explain before Keith cut him off.

“Tell him what you were going to do to him!” Keith yelled. “Tell him!”

“I don't know what you're talking about, Keith.” Coach Rickards' glove dropped to the ground, but he didn't seem to notice. “We were only playing catch.”

Lucy Kaye and Kathryn hurried into the yard.

“What did you do to my son?” Lucy Kaye marched up to Coach Rickards and stared angrily into his eyes. “What did you do to him?”

Kathryn tried to step between Lucy Kaye and Coach Rickards, but Lucy Kaye pushed her to the side.

“I'm going to ask you one more time! What did you do to my son?”

Keith walked up to his mother and put his arms around her. “Don't worry about it, Ma. It's okay now,” he whispered in her ear. “It's okay.”

“No, it's not!” Lucy Kaye pulled away from Keith and stared directly into Coach Rickards' eyes as she spoke. “Your father died thinking he was the reason you ran away! You weren't here to see how much he suffered! Now, Jordan, tell me what you did to my son.”

“I didn't do anything,” Coach Rickards answered nervously. Then he turned to Keith and asked, “Did I, Keith?”

Fear kept Keith from telling years ago because he remembered Coach Rickards' warning. “If you tell your mother or Reverend, all you're going to do is hurt and disgrace them. Is that what you want to do?”

Kathryn married into the portrait her husband and the others had of their community, and she wasn't ready to see a different, more veracious, picture of her town, her neighbors, and friends. These people became her family when she moved here thirty-five years ago. And now, there was no way she was going to let everything she believed in crumble because of a moment of indiscretion. She couldn't even imagine it. So she backed away from it all, finally coming to rest in the waiting arms of her grandson.

Lucy Kaye didn't budge. She never knew why her son ran away,
but she knew it was something horrible, something no one in this town, including her and Reverend Adams, would allow themselves to see. But she was ready to look now. Ready for the truth. She turned and looked at her son. “Keith?”

He didn't answer.

“There!” Coach Rickards was confident Keith would keep their secret like he had for the past fifteen years. “He said no!”

No one noticed Willie walk in the gate with June in his arms. “He didn't say anything!” June yelled at Coach Rickards. Willie, still carrying June, walked over to Keith. June reached for his hand. “How could you?” she asked Coach Rickards. “He trusted you! We all trusted you!”

Alex knew the truth now. “This is your chance to let it go,” he told Keith. “If you don't, it will destroy the rest of your life and everyone standing here. They deserve to know the truth, and you deserve the right to finally be free of it. Listen to me, man. It wasn't your fault.”

Tears filled Keith's eyes as he recalled the leathery feel of Coach's callous-ridden fingers stroking his private parts; Coach's wet lips pressed against his; the painful jabbing of Coach's rock-hard penis inside him; the unimaginable shame.

“He,” Keith responded, locking onto June's hand. He knew she was strong enough to hold him this time because now she knew his secret. Finally, with her beside him, he could utter the words, “He touched me.”

Words could describe the horrible act, but they were an ambiguous means of expressing the anguish he felt. What he lost. What they all lost.

“He touched me.”

That was the last thing Lucy Kaye remembered about that afternoon.
Those three words and then awaking with skin and green cotton fibers under her fingernails. Everything else was a blur, an all-too-real dream that faded when she regained consciousness. She didn't recall falling to the ground or scratching through Coach's socks and drawing blood from his ankles. Or June asking Keith the only question left to ask.

“Why didn't you tell us?”

“I couldn't tell because I was my father's son,” Keith tearfully answered. “And I was perfect in his eyes.”

(lyrics and arrangement by June)

So long.

Good-bye.

I'll be missing you my friend.

So long;

Good-bye.

Every story has to end.

But saying good-bye

and watching you go,

is more than I can stand.

So I'll say the words out loud,

and watch you through shut eyes.

So long.

Good-bye.

I'll cherish the memories.

So long.

Good-bye.

It's time I set you free.

But setting you free,

and walking away,

is too much for one heart.

So I'll break the ties that bind,

and hold you from within.

So long.

Good-bye.

It's time to let it be.

So long;

Good-bye;

Go on and spread your wings.

But letting it be,

and living without you;

No, I'll never be the same.

But, I'll bid you farewell,

and swear that's what I mean.

So long; Good-bye.

So long; Good-bye. (Repeat to fade)

I
t took more than a century and four generations to create the conterminous lives the seven families on Bacon Street lived. One-hundred and seven years, the majority of which were spent in servitude to the man who built the once-famous hotel at the end of Bacon Street. His death lifted them from their toilsome existence. He bequeathed to each family a beautiful home, 125 rich, fertile acres of land and timber, and a chance to script their own lives and their children's. They vanquished all the memories—the disparity and anguish—of their past lives before stepping into their new ones. The folks who were old enough to remember the travails of hardship and loss simply forgot, and those who couldn't remember were never told. They rewrote their lives and were in control of their destinies. They became decision makers. Business owners. Teachers. Leaders. Dreamers. One even became a star. Finally, they were who they wanted to be. In an instant, three words changed everything: He touched me.