An entire week had managed to go by. The closer it got to Friday, the more I wallowed in my sense of loss over Shelly. Asking her if she wanted to go out tonight, like we had almost every Friday since the beginning of freshman year, she simply apologized and told me she had made other plans. I felt a stab of pain when she said it, and more so when I nervously asked her again if she would reconsider.
"Phillip, we've got to move on to what God truly has for us. As much as I'd like to think we should forget about what's happened and make plans together, I know in my heart that's not where He's leading me ...leading both of us. We can still be friends can't we?"
She was wrong to my way of seeing things. Maybe she thought it was God, but I certainly didn't want to believe he was the one leading us apart. I had no reasonable comeback for her logic. My only hope was that if she was looking for God's hand in the matter, then maybe he could still intervene and bring us back together. I forced a lame smile onto my face and left her standing there.
I had spent a lot of time this past week, pleading with God to change her mind, but truth be told, all I ever ended up feeling after those times alone with God, was a sense that Shelly was somehow right -- that it was over.
I dreaded the phone call I knew I would be getting soon from mom. She tried to call once every couple of weeks, and I hadn't heard from her since returning to school.
Friday afternoon, my phone rang. I figured it was her until I realized that it wasn't the tune I had programmed into my phone for her. Not recognizing the caller's number, I decided not to answer. I waited for the chime to signal that whoever it was had left a message, but instead of the chime my phone rang again and the same number appeared on the screen -- twice.
I decided to answer.
"Hey, Phillip," a cheery voice greeted me.
"Oh hey, Elijah. I didn't know you had my number."
"I have my ways of digging up necessary information when I need to."
A somewhat glum, "...and?" traveled across the airwaves, through brick and stone, and literally through how many other peoples head, before being reproduced on the speaker of the phone he was calling from. That always amazed me when I thought about it.
"...and I was wondering if you wanted to hang out tonight."
"Doing what," I asked suspiciously, remembering the not-so-subtle brush of his leg against mine at the coffee shop.
"Whatever. You want to go to the mall?"
"Maybe. I guess I should return the ring I bought for Michelle."
"Super-duper, Carrots. What time can you be ready?"
"Look," I told him tentatively, "No one really calls me that but Michelle, so... well I don't really like it when people call me that, okay?"
"Sorry, Phillip, I guess I just got a little carried away. You want to hit Romano's first?"
"Guess so. Five okay for you?"
"Meet me at my car?"
"Can do"
"Later, Phillip. Oh, and I'm really sorry about you and Michelle. I mean I know how much she means to you."
"Meant," I corrected him.
"I feel it, man."
At five minutes after five, I found Elijah's Crossfire in the lot by his apartment. He was already sitting behind the wheel, waiting for me. His killer smile helped to break my "mood" a bit, but I was still depressed, knowing that by taking the diamond solitaire back from whence it came I was so much as admitting that Shelly and I really weren't going to get married.
Elijah reached across the consol and shook my knee.
"You ever eat an anchovy, bud?"
"People actually eat them? I've seen `em on the menu, but I've never heard of anyone saying they like them."
"Listen to the voice," Elijah said, doing a pretty fair impersonation of George Burns in the movie `Oh God', and piercing my eyes with his gaze. "I like them."
"Okay," I laughed, suddenly feeling lighter than I had all week.
"You Christians think you can get away with anything. Putting pepperonis on pizza is not what God had in mind when he inspired the Italians to create the perfect food."
"And eating fish, head and all, is? Give me a break mop head."
Elijah suddenly started laughing, spinning his head violently back and forth, tossing his curly locks this way and that. "I can't believe you just called me that. That's what my mom calls me when I go home. She never let me grow my hair long when I lived there. She'd tell me it'd make me look like a mop head. Do you think I should get it cut?"
"No, but I think you should comb it front to cover up your ugly face," I deadpanned as I reached over and brushed some of it into his eyes.
"That does it," he hooted as he ducked out of my reach. "YOU, my friend, are eating an anchovy... Tonight!"
"And who's gonna make me?"
"I am"
"You and who else, string bean?"
"Oh, you are so-o-o-o asking for it freckle-face."
Amazing; In a matter of a thirty seconds, this effervescing bean-pole of a guy, with a hook nose, and a crop of dark ringlets on his head, had driven all of my troubles out of the car and into the chill, night air. Not knowing what else to do or say, I dove for his ribs. I had no idea if he was ticklish, but I was going to find out right now.
"Stop, Phi-il, stop it," he squealed like a grade schooler.
"Still think you can make me eat an anchovy?"
"Stop, Oh my god, stop it, I can't breathe."
"You going to control yourself?"
"Never," he squealed.
I dug even harder, "Now?"
"I'll do anything. Just stop. You're gonna make me wet my pants."
"No anchovies."
"I promise. Just stop."
I sat upright in my seat and acted as if nothing had happened.
"You are so gonna regret that, buddy boy. And I assure you, that unfortunately, you are going to live to regret it," emphasizing the word live.
On impulse, I reached over and pulled the hairs that were still out of place on Elijah's head, back, and neatly tucked them behind his ear. I had wanted to do that ever since I first saw him more than three months ago. He usually just let it hang straight down, but I thought that when he tucked his locks behind his ears before serving the tennis ball, it made him look so... Oh, God, so what?
"You've got to stop thinking about him like that," I scolded myself, knowing I couldn't admit to myself the word I had wanted to use was "sexy." Shelly was allowed to look sexy, which thinking back, she never really did -- at least not to me. But I knew Elijah must never be more than just a friend. ...and not a sexy friend, either. I had the urge to kiss him but I was sure God knew what I was thinking and would likely see it as improper.
At least, I thought, God couldn't hold anything against me when Elijah's sneak attack parted my lips for an instant.
"Sweet," Elijah said as our lips parted. "Very sweet"
I looked around nervously to see if anyone might have witnessed his inappropriate antic.
A short ride later, we turned into the parking lot beside the Romano's, and Elijah turned to look at me. He just kept smiling. Even his eyes were sparkling with mischief.
Reading his mind, I barked playfully, "I am so not eating an anchovy," as I extracted myself from the sleek sports car. He didn't say a word, he just kept smiling.
After downing most of a pitcher of Mountain Dew, our number was finally called, and I went to the counter to pick up the pie we had ordered. It was supposed to be half pepperoni, and half anchovies, but I noticed that mixed in with my pepperoni, there were a few wayward fish. I should have known that was why he had run back to the counter soon after we had found a table. Before picking the pie pan up, I lifted three greasy pig slivers off of my half and strategically placed them on his half. I had no idea how rigidly he follow Jewish dietary law, I just hoped he wouldn't be offended and refuse to eat any of it.
He clutched his chest when I sat the pizza on the table top. "You've defiled my bread," he wailed. "I'll starve myself to death before I'll eat the flesh of a hog."
I guess that answered that question.
"What about these?" I said pointing to the anchovies, "You defiled my bread too."
"You forget already that you asked for them, Fuzz Boy?"
"Oh, yeah. ... my bad," I said as I began picking the anchovies off my half and dropping them into the inch of Mountain Dew remaining in the pitcher. "Swim little fishies, I encouraged them, as I stuck my straw into the pitcher and swirled it around like I could revive them. I knew he was being melodramatic, but at the same time, I could also tell that the pork product touching the food he had been hoping to eat was more than a minor problem.
"Who's that guy waving at us back there," I asked, pointing directly behind him. As soon as he turned to look, the pepperonis magically disappeared into my mouth.
"What guy?" he asked turning to face me again.
I saw him glance down at the pizza.
"Smooth, Red, but it's still defiled."
"What is?" I asked innocently.
"The pizza. Once pork touches it, it's not kosher anymore."
"Pork?'
He just rolled his eyes before mumbling something about King David eating the forbidden showbread when he didn't have anything else to eat, and picked the nearest slice off the pan.
We were almost finished eating when I turned to look at the clock that hung above the counter. He was so slick. He must have the absolute best eye hand coordination of anyone I had ever seen, because as I swung my head back toward him, he slipped one of those slimy little black stink bombs between my lips and into my mouth.
"Chew, Hester. It's health for your body."
"Hester?" I plied as the fish went flying out of my mouth and inadvertently onto his lap. "Where did that come from? Hester?"
"Yeah, my great uncle Samuel use to tell his wife that when she'd refuse to take her meds."
"If that's what it takes to have a healthy body, then count me out," I laughed.
He tucked his hair behind his ears as we stood to leave, and I had to admit to myself that "sexy" was the right word to use.
"Yes Mr. Johnson, we'd be glad to take the ring back. I'm so sorry things didn't work out the way you had hoped. Is there something else I can show you?"
"Not really. I'd just like a refund. Could you put it back onto my store credit card?"
"Sure. You are aware though, that there's a forty percent restocking fee on any item held for over thirty days?" she said flipping the receipt over and pointing to some fine print on the back.
"But she never wore it," I protested.
"Let's see, you bought it on November 9th. I'm sorry. Sometimes the manager will extend the date by a week or two, but you bought this ring more than two months ago so I know he won't approve it. May I offer you store credit instead? He'd probably allow ninety percent of the purchase price if you took it in store credit."
I looked toward Elijah and rolled my eyes as I shook my head side to side.
"Would I have to get anything now?"
"No. You can take as long as you like to choose some other piece of jewelry. You would of course need to keep making at least minimum payments on your charge account though."
"You have diamond ear studs?" I asked, looking at Elijah's ears.
"Sure do," she answered cheerfully, and pulled a box from the display case.
Elijah protested, but we both left the store wearing a pair of tenth karat diamond ear studs in our ears -- his set in silver, and mine in gold. I made sure, as we were putting them into our ear lobes, that he understood I had bought them only because I had no idea what else I was going to use the credit for.
We hit most of the stores in the mall, and just before closing time, Elijah ducked into a drugstore by the mall entrance. I had noticed that for the past fifteen minutes or so, that he had seemed a bit distracted, like he was thinking deeply about something. "Lord," I pleaded, "Please don't let him go near the family planning counter. Provide a way of escape for me. Don't allow me to fall into temptation with him." God not only heard my prayer, but answered it. I couldn't make out what he had bought, but I could tell it was a tube of something.
We both climbed into the car, and then he reached into the opened end of the bag and squeezed a sizeable gob of something onto his hand. When he began rubbing his hands together, I relaxed a bit, figuring it must be hand cream.
I instinctively backed away when he reach his gooey fingers toward my head.
"What are you doing?" I protested as I ran out of space and his fingers slid across the top of my scalp.
"Experimenting. It's hair gel."
"I very quickly felt myself leaning into his hands as he repeatedly stroked them across my scalp.
"I just thought your hair would look so cool if it was gelled into little spikes."
I was mesmerized by his touch as he gently twisted little tufts of my hair into peaks, checked them out, rubbed more gel onto his hands, and started over again. When he was finally satisfied with his artistry, he spread more of the cream onto his hands, and began stroking the sides of my head, so all the hair would lay back. I was surprised to hear an "m-m-m-m" escape my lips. I could have let him do that for hours.
"Let me see," he said, sitting back and flipping on the dome lights. "Even better than I thought. I'd better not take you anywhere where there're girls present. It'd cause a riot when they saw you."
Elijah just sat and stared at me for a while. I'm not exactly sure what he was thinking, but his face was definitely gaining a crimson tint. His voice was timid -- almost fearful, as he turned away, killed the light, and gripped the steering wheel.
"You remember the time you asked me if you could kiss me, Phil?"
I knew before he finished what he was going to ask. As much as I wanted to, I just wasn't ready go there. "The kiss" was something I did for the girl I loved. Though it had brought feelings to light I think I'd rather not have known, I was still certain that giving them further expression would be very wrong.
"Please don't, Elijah. I... I just can't. I'm so confused by everything that's been happening ...at Christmas ...last week ...tonight... I... I'm not gay, Elijah. Don't you understand? I can't be. It just isn't right. Please don't ask me to do something that wouldn't be right for me."
As much as I wanted him, I couldn't turn my back on my belief that God wanted all his children to avoid same sex... Same sex, what... affection? I knew it wasn't just affection that was causing hormones to rage through my body at that moment. More than anything else, I was afraid ...afraid I couldn't trust myself to stop with just a kiss.
"I do understand. ...and Phillip?"
I looked up at his now relaxed eyes.
"I pray that soon you'll understand, too. Thanks for standing up for what you believe, though. I'm glad you're a man of character. I'm thankful to God for that."
He started the car, buckled his seatbelt, and drove us back to school.
"Thanks for a really great time, Phil. Maybe we can get together to study or something?"
"Sunday afternoon?" I asked.
"In the library?"
"At one?"
"Be there"
We parted company, without so much as a handshake. I was so distracted when I got back to my dorm, I forgot to check the doorknob to see if Andrew's leather bracelet was hanging on it. That was his signal to me that he needed privacy, and so I walked right in on them. Thank God for small favors -- they were both fully clothed. Had I gotten in ten minutes later though...