Morningstar: Chapter 12: One Man, Four Worlds

 Chapter 12: One Man, Four Worlds

 

          I can’t remember ever getting up this early; but that was ok, it was for Amanda and Charlie.  Charlie had written out exactly how he wanted everything for his funeral.  The burial was to be first and at dawn followed by a memorial service at a church.  Amanda said some of the relatives were upset that there was a mixing of a traditional, military, and Christian ceremony; but that’s what Charlie wanted and who Charlie was. 

          Mom took the day off work to go with me.  My dad and T.J. were going.  We were all going.  T.J. was especially difficult, really early in the morning, so my dad was working to get him up and dressed.  He had a shower last night but would still need some help getting cleaned up.  I could hear him tantruming upstairs as I was getting ready.  My parents had been able to get him to sleep a little earlier than usual last night, which was a good thing.  There was a chance that once he was totally awake and had eaten something he might be in a relatively good mood.  I had no hope for his Pollyanna mood, but would welcome it today.

          It was too early to eat breakfast, so we just had toast and juice.  Amanda and her mom asked us to stay for lunch at the church.  Hopefully, it wouldn’t be too late.  Mom wore her nice navy dress suit, my dad wore his black suit, T.J. was wearing a pair of black slacks and a dark blue long-sleeved shirt.  When T.J. and my dad got downstairs, T.J. was still half asleep; but not tantruming.  (What a relief.) I really didn’t have the right dress for a funeral but wore a charcoal tweed skirt with a matching long sleeved collared shirt, a sweater and really long socks to keep me warm.  I really looked more preppy than funeral; but it was the best I could do.

          After having just, a bite of toast, T.J. had gone back to sleep on the couch.  The rest of us were rushing around asking; “where’s my….?” questions until we all finally had it together and were ready to go.  Dad just picked T.J. up, carried him to the car and buckled him in the back seat.  Mom grabbed a blanket she had laid on the couch and put it in the back seat next to T.J.  She then got in the driver’s seat holding a map she had googled.  Dad got in on the passenger side, and I got in the back behind mom.  We had a long quiet drive in the dark, to a small country cemetery.  The night was absolutely clear and beautiful, with a full moon giving us some light in addition to the headlights of the car.  There were very few cars on the highway at that time of the morning.

          “Mom, dad, thanks for coming.”

          “You’re welcome Anna, I think it’s important.”

          “So, do I honey, besides, even though I only met him twice briefly, I think I would have wanted to come anyway.”

          The rest of the drive was in silence, T.J. continued to sleep, and I dozed on and off.  I was awakened by the noticeable shaking and bounce as we turned into the road to the cemetery.  There were lots of cars already there.  I noticed the Teeples van as we pulled in.  We were able to pull close enough to the grave site that my mom decided to just let T.J. sleep for a while longer. 

          “Anna, would you unbuckle T.J. and lay him down, then put the blanket over him;” asked my mom.

          My dad and I got out as mom turned the heat up all the way to get the car as warm as possible before shutting off the engine and getting out.

          “I’ll stand where I can keep an eye on T.J. in case he wakes up.  I’ll get back in and get it warmed up every once in a while;” said my mom as she was getting out of the car.

          My mom stood on a little knoll where she could see both T.J. and the burial.  My dad and I walked up closer to the large group already assembled.  There were people in traditional Native American Regalia, two young men in very sharp Army uniforms and a bunch of older men in older uniforms of different kinds.  Some of the uniforms didn’t seem to fit quite or look as sharp as well as they might have in the past.  There were also a lot of people in suits, dresses, or skirts, and a few in jeans.  Lots of people, especially kids, were bouncing up and down, trying to keep warm.  I was too tired to do any bouncing, so I just suffered in the cold.  Almost everyone was mingling and speaking in low voices with each other.  It was interesting seeing small groups of people, one or two in Native American Regalia, another one or two in a uniform and another one or two in a suit or dress, standing and visiting together.  Almost everyone had on a warm coat of some kind.  As we walked into the larger group, a girl with long braided beaded hair laying across both shoulders and down her front chest and with a beautiful, beaded dress practically jumped on me and gave me a hug.

          “Thanks for coming.  I love you too;” she said amidst soft crying.  It wasn’t until she said something that I realized it was Amanda.  I immediately hugged her as tight as I could.

          Before I could say anything a group of older women, all in regalia started singing what sounded like a very mournful song in what must have been Shoshone.  By this time there was a lot of crying from a lot of people.  Some softer, some louder.  This went on for some time.  Amanda was still standing by me while the women were singing.  D’Lisa and Beth, both wearing dresses, walked up slowly and quietly, and gave Amanda and then me a hug.

          After singing, the two young Army men folded the flag which was draped across the coffin and gave it to one of the older women who had been singing.

          “That’s my aunt Mary, Charlie’s youngest sister;” whispered Amanda to the three of us.

          The older men in uniform, then said some things and fired their guns in the air, then stood at attention and saluted towards Charlie’s casket.  A bugler then slowly played a lamented taps.  Between the dark and the crowd, it was very hard to see everything.

          The casket was then lowered into the ground while the sun crept up over the mountains.  By this time, all four of us girls were crying.  The rising sun allowed me to see people a little better and I noticed Mike and the rest of Beth’s family standing not far away.  Mike was blowing his nose with one handkerchief and wiping his eyes with another.  Jason was right beside him, holding Mike’s cane with one hand and Mike’s arm with the other.

          Another man wearing a suit, then said a prayer over the grave.  People then started talking again and Amanda said that part was over, with the exception of some gift giving which was and would be going on for a little while.  The next part would be at a church in Hyrum.  In spite of the bitter cold, no one seemed to be in a hurry to leave.  Beth’s parents walked over to us and introduced themselves to my dad.  As people continued to move around, I got a glimpse of a table with something green on top, close to the grave.

          “Amanda, what’s on the table?”

          “I’ll show you, Charlie’s had it in his shed for a few years.  It’s what he wanted for his headstone.”

          Beth, D’Lisa, Amanda, and I all wove our way through the crowd to the table while my dad visited with Beth’s parents.  When I got to the table, I could see Amanda’s father who was also wearing traditional Shoshone regalia and her mother who was wearing a simple black dress with a heavy coat.  The stone on the table was solid green and almost as smooth as glass.  It was much smaller than a typical grave marker and simply said: “Charlie Blackeagle,” on top, then the date he was born and died and then on the bottom, the words, ‘I’ve Gone Home.’

          “I’ve got to go be with my family.  Will I see you all at the church?”

          We all nodded our head yes and gave Amanda, another hug, then she returned to her family.  By this time both my mom and dad were visiting with Beth’s parents close to our car.  I looked but couldn’t see Mike, Jason, or the twins.

          “Mom, I see you’ve met the Teeples,” I said to her as I approached.

          “Yes, we’re all going to sit together for the service and lunch,” responded my mother.

          Sarah Teeples then said; “I’ve got to go help get lunch together, but I’ll see you all at the church.”  She and Max then left the thinning crowd.  I noticed the Teeples’ van had already gone as Sarah and Max got into another car.  Some other vehicles had already started to leave one by one.  The memorial service wouldn’t start for another hour and a few minutes.  Not really enough time to go home, but too early to go to the church. 

          “Anything you want to do Anna?” asked my dad.

          “No, do you guys want to do anything before we go?  I just don’t want to be late.”

          “We’ve never been in this part of the valley, let’s just take a scenic drive over to Hyrum;” replied my mom as we slowly made our way back to the car.  T.J. was still sound asleep, lying on the back seat covered with the heavy blanket.  That was a good thing.  When he finally wakes up he should be in a better mood.

          The car wasn’t cold.  Mom must have recently warmed it up again.  Dad sat T.J. back up, leaned him against the door, and buckled him.  He then placed the blanket back over him, made him more comfortable, and got back in on the passenger side.  Mom already had the engine and heater going again.  I then got in and we took a leisurely drive towards Hyrum for the service. 

          We were about 15 minutes early; but there were already a lot of cars and trucks at the church.  An entrance to a large waiting room or lobby was on one side of the church, encased mostly by glass on three sides.  Just inside was a table with a guest book for the service and programs we could take.  There was a picture of Jesus on one side of the program and a picture of Charlie on the back with information about the service on the inside.  My dad told me the guest book was for the family to remember everyone who had come to the service.  We all signed, even T.J. who insisted on writing T. J.  Just next to the table was an easel with pictures of Charlie from different periods of his life, from his childhood, through the military and then after his return to Cache Valley.  On the other side of the room were more easels with pictures of Charlie, some in native regalia, some in uniform, some with Mike on hunting and fishing trips, and some with other friends and family.  There was one that looked like it might have been Charlie with his parents and two sisters.  Amanda had told me he had an older sister, Emily, Amanda’s grandmother who had already passed away and a younger sister, Aunt Mary, who received the flag at his burial.  Like at the burial, it was almost like Charlie lived in four different worlds.  There was his Native American world, his non-Native world around Logan, the Military world, and then there was Charlie’s mystery world, which I thought would just have to stay a mystery for me. 

          On other tables in the lobby were many beautiful pieces of art created by Charlie at some time of his life.  I knew it was Charlie’s work because they all had his black eagle in the bottom right-hand corner.  On the walls hung many photographs which must also have been Charlie’s work.  Down both halls were more hanging pictures; but more what I would expect in a church.  I believe they were all pictures of Jesus, some I recognized and some I didn’t.  Mom, Dad, T.J. and I walked around the lobby looking closely at Charlie’s creations.  All my family, even T.J. were as impressed and as touched by Charlie’s talent as I was.

          “It’s amazing when a really good photographer can see things most of us just look past,” remarked my mom as she was looking at some of Charlie’s pictures.

          There were two doors leading from the lobby to the interior of the church.  Most people were walking through the one on the left, which looked like some kind of service room, though a little different from the two or three I’d been in over the years.  The front was raised with a podium and padded chairs.  The main part of the room had padded benches with some sort of flexible divider in the back that looked like it could be opened to the room behind.  My dad spotted the Teeples and ushered us all over to sit with them.  D’Lisa was sitting with the Teeples, next to Beth.

          T.J. loudly and embarrassingly yelled, “Thomas, Mark.”  Obviously, he knew them from school.

          Mom quickly grabbed his arm and said, “Shhh T.J., use your inside voice.”  Thomas and Mark squeezed past the rest of their family to get to the aisle and then sat on a bench behind, patting the seat and looking at T.J., signaling for him to sit with them.  I had no idea T.J. had any “normal” friends.  The rest of the family moved over for us to sit with them. 

          Just as I was about to move down the bench, Amanda grabbed my arm from behind and whispered, “please come sit with me.”  Amanda was absolutely beautiful, still wearing the same soft leather beaded dress she had on earlier that morning.  She and I then walked quietly down the row to the front and sat with her mom and other family members.  Some were still in native regalia, some in suits and dresses, and a few in normal but nice street clothing.  Looking around I could see several older people in uniform who had been at the burial.

          I could see Amanda’s dad and Mike with a few other men and women, including Charlie’s sister sitting on the stand behind the podium.  Someone spoke for just a few minutes and then there was a song and a prayer.

          Mike then got up assisted by his cane.  He was dressed in what looked like an old black suit and was still wiping his nose with his handkerchief.

          “A couple years ago, Charlie handed me an envelope and told me if I lived longer than him, I was supposed to read two things at his funeral.  He said once I read them, I could say whatever I wanted.”  I could tell Mike was having a hard time speaking as his voice was cracking and he kept having to stop to gather his composure.

          “The first one is from a poem by William Wordsworth, called: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood.  I’m not very good at this sort of thing and Charlie and Martha are probably the only people I would do something like this for.  Anyway, here it goes:

 

Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:

The Soul that rises with us, our life's Star,

Hath had elsewhere its setting,

And cometh from afar:

Not in entire forgetfulness,

And not in utter nakedness,

But trailing clouds of glory do we come

From God, who is our home:

 

          I’m not as deep as Charlie; but he wanted me to read these and that was the first one.  Here’s the second.  He wrote it down from a book someplace.

 

          When Rome conquered the city states of Greece, a certain Greek philosopher was taken captive and presented to the Roman general.  Through a translator, the general told the Greek that he was going to be put to death.  When the Greek didn’t seem too bothered by the news, the general thought the Greek hadn’t understood, that perhaps the translation had not been right so the general asked, again, through the translator, if the Greek understood what the general meant when he said the Greek was going to die.  This was what Greek then said to the general.

          Thou doest not know what it means to die, for thou doest not know what it means to live.  To die is to begin to live.  It is to end all stale and weary work to begin a nobler and a better.  It is to leave a society of deceitful knaves for one of Gods and goodness.

 

          OK Charlie, I did what you asked me to do.  Now for the stories.”  Mike had stumbled over some of the words but did ok.  He then started relaxing as he told stories about he and Charlie as boys, then young men and then finally as old men.   Mike included the bar story, with what I thought were a few different embellishments, but not enough to cause me to write it again.  Here are some of the other things Mike said:

          “Charlie and I wrote each at least once a month the whole time he was in the Army.  We’d see each other once in a while when he was on leave and came home to see his family.  We just didn’t have much chance to do many crazy things when he was on leave, there just wasn’t enough time; but when we were kids…

          One time, we’d been watching Mighty Mouse with another friend of ours, Conner.  Charlie got this great idea we should give this flying thing a try.  We were only about six or seven.  We each got one of my mom’s tablecloths and tied them around our necks and crawled up on top of the milk barn.  Luckily, it wasn’t very high.  Anyway,” by this time Mike was starting to laugh just a little, “we were up on top of the milk barn and Charlie said, ‘ok, let’s fly.’ 

          I just looked at him and said, ‘Charlie, I don’t think this is a good idea.’  For those of you who knew Conner, this will be no surprise, but Conner was all for it.

          Charlie just said, ‘It’s OK!’ 

          I’m pretty sure I looked back at him and said, ‘holy cow Charlie, you’re gunna get us killed!  I said that to him a lot when we were kids.”  He just smiled at me and Conner and all three of us jumped.  The good thing is we didn’t get in trouble for tearing my mom’s tablecloths.  I think our parents figured we’d been punished enough and learned our lesson. The bad thing is that Charlie broke an arm and leg, Conner broke a collar bone, and I broke my foot and leg.  The same one that has the really bad arthritis today…  Never really thought about it, but I wonder if there is a connection.  I’ll have to talk to Charlie about that the next time I see him.”  Mike finished this story with a smile and then told some more stories where, as he would say, Charlie almost got both of them killed and then finally added; “but I was always at least a mostly willing participant.”

          After Mike, Amanda’s dad Serge Coalier, spoke for a few minutes.  Here is just some of what he said.

          “Just about everybody knew my Uncle Charlie as a photographer and wood carver, and some of you knew him when he was a kid, trying to get him and Mike killed……”  A number of people laughed again.  “Most of you probably don’t know he also wrote poems.  He wasn’t as good a poet as he was a sculptor of wood, but there’s one I want to read.  I found a few yesterday in a box my aunt had in her attic.  Here’s this one:

 

Often, I sit

In the forest by a stream;

And feel…

The warm summer breeze.

 

I can see the light

Sparkle through the trees;

And laugh…

At the dancing leaves.

 

It’s a nice sort-of day

To be by a pond

Sitting with a friend

In the warm summer breeze.

 

It’s a good day

To be alive

And lay by the trees

In a forest

By a pond

With a warm summer breeze.

 

          Charlie loved to be outside.  Even on the coldest day in the middle of winter, if you went to his house, he would probably be outside.  He would even sit on that porch of his, in the freezing cold and carve.  He couldn’t do the really fine work, he had to do that inside if it was too cold; but he would do everything he could outside.  …  Charlie grew up as an only boy with two sisters, my mother, and my aunt Mary who is sitting behind me this morning.  Charlie loved his parents and both his sisters very much.  And we all loved Charlie very much.” 

          Serge then sat down, and four men and four women got up and another woman moved to the piano.  They sang, Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing.  I remembered the Lings had the music to this old American folk song.

          Serge then helped Charlie’s sister Mary, stand, and walk to the podium.  She said just a few words.  Her speech was broken, not just from sadness, but from age and struggles.  Even though she was Charlie’s younger sister, she looked much older. One thing she said, was kind of funny, even causing a little soft laughter in the audience.  “I remember thinking about how old people could get away with saying just about anything.  I’ll probably say a few things that I wouldn’t have dreamed of saying twenty years ago.  Some may even be considered a bit rude, but I’m old and going to say what’s in my heart for my brother’s funeral.”  She said a couple things that really made an impression on me. 

          “I know some people used to call my brother Crazy Old Charlie.  Sometimes he did things I didn’t understand, sometimes he saw things I couldn’t see.  He showed us some of that in his art…  But he was one of the sanest and wisest people me and many of his close friends ever knew…  

Some people worried about my brother; but look around at some kids these days, you wonder how this world is going to survive with so many idiots, then if you follow them home, you think, no wonder.  You know, the acorn doesn’t fall far from the tree.” 

          She shook her head as she was talking.  There was some light laughter.

          “We are losing our elders, the wise ones, and with them our language, the old songs, and the wisdom of the ages.  Young people need to look to their elders and those who have gone before to learn and remember the wisdom of the past.  Not just what their mothers and fathers know…  Some of them are idiots too.  People need to rediscover the wisdom of the ancient ones.  The ones who went before.  The ones who struggled and built and created a life and prospered as a culture.

          You may be able to find knowledge in the present; but more and more people struggle to find wisdom and even common sense.  If you can’t find any wisdom in your family tree, look at mine, there are no nuts there!”  She shook her head as she spoke.

          A lot of people laughed softly at her last comment too.

          After she was done there was one final speaker.  I assume he was the minister or something because he talked about life after death and things like that.  We then sang another song and had another prayer. 

          Serge then stood up and just said; “there’s lots of food, we’d like friends and family to stay for lunch and visit if you can.  People started getting up, some visiting in the chapel, others left, and some moved to other parts of the church.

          A deliciously rich aroma was now coming from somewhere in the church.  I was famished.  The wonderful smell made my stomach rumble loudly.

          “Oh, Amanda, that smells delicious, when do we get to eat?”

          “Probably about as soon as we get in there, I hope.”  She then forced a smile and whispered, leaning down towards my stomach; “be patient Anna’s tummy, be patient.”

          As we waited for the row and aisle to clear a little, I could see T.J. talking with my dad and then leaving with Thomas and Mark.  Beth and D’Lisa had walked to the back and were standing there, looking at us.  D’Lisa was wearing a dark paisley chiffon dress with leggings.  She looked really cute, and warm.  Beth was wearing a simple navy dress with an empire waist.  She looked nice too.  My parents were walking out with Beth’s parents.  Jason and another guy had left.  Mike was holding onto a rail as he was leaving the area behind the podium.  Serge was holding Mary’s arm as they were carefully making their way down the stairs behind Mike.  I couldn’t see Amanda’s mom Stephanie; she had been sitting next to Amanda but had gone the other way.

          As the chapel cleared, we were able to make our way to the back where D’Lisa and Beth were waiting for us to walk out together.

          “Mmm, doesn’t that smell good?” Beth asked.

          “Yes, and I’m soooo hungry,” I replied.

          “Oh, me too, it’s been a looong day. … OH! Excuse me;”” said D’Lisa’s whose stomach was growling as much as mine was.

          “How ya doin Amanda?”  Beth gently asked Amanda as she put her arm over Amanda’s shoulders.

          “I’m ok, thanks, I’m pretty hungry too, and pretty tired.” Replied Amanda.

          We walked around the corner and into the big room on the other side of the dividers.  To the left we could see a row of tables with lots of food and women bringing even more.  All over the room were round tables with chairs around the tables and a few against the walls.  My parents, Beth’s Parents, and Amanda’s parents, with Amanda’s aunt Mary, were already sitting at one table in the middle of the room eating.

          We got in line and grabbed a sturdy paper plate from the end of the table.  Somehow Thomas, T.J. and Mark managed to squeeze between Amanda and D’Lisa who were in front, and me and Beth who were now further behind.  The first thing we came to, were pans of some kind of potatoes.  They smelled incredible.

          Beth was right in front of me and I asked; “what kind of potatoes are these?”

          “Funeral Potatoes!  My mom made three pans of these for today.  They are absolutely delicious.  There’s plenty so take all you want, but I suggest you take some from this pan.” She pointed to one of the pans. “They’re my mom’s, and they’re the best.”

          “Why are they called Funeral Potatoes?”

          “It’s a traditional dish for funerals around here.  It’s comfort food!”

          I started scooping and really piled it on… for me.  A woman was just taking an empty pan away and replacing it with another pan of potatoes.

          “Watch out dear.  Those go right to your hips.”  She said with a warm smile.

          I thought to myself, if these go right to your hips, it looks like she’d eaten a lot of these over the years.  I wasn’t too worried though.  I didn’t have much in the way of hips and maybe the potatoes would help.  Amanda and D’Lisa had already picked up their food, but before leaving the line D’Lisa walked back to us, pointing to an empty table next to the big divider and said; “We’ll go grab that table and save you two a seat.”

          We were almost at the end of the line and it looked like there was still lots of food, so Beth piled it on.  I noticed at the cabin and here that she seemed to be able to eat a lot more than me.  Probably because she was into so many sports and was so active.

          When I got to the table and sat down, I looked around the room at all the people talking and getting food.  I was still amazed at the mélange of clothing being worn by everyone.  To my surprise, Mike was slowly making his way towards our table.

          “Can I sit with you kids?  It’s pretty crowded over there with your folks.  Besides, you’re all a lot more fun and interesting. … And right now, I need to be with, the more fun group.”  Then, looking at D’Lisa he asked; “Who’s this beautiful young lady?”

          “Oh, this is D’Lisa.  D’Lisa, this is my grandpa. … Grandpa, do you want me to get you a plate?”

          “No, Mark’s bringing me food, thanks.”

          “Mike, you did a good job talking.  I saw you this morning at the burial.  How are you doing?”

          “Thanks Anna, it’s always tough to see a good friend pass on.  Right now, I’m pretty tuckered.  I’ve gotten up the same time of the morning my whole life.  The big difference now is that I usually get a nap.  When we went to the cabin the other day it was different.  Being around all you kids, having fun, gave me more energy and I didn’t get so tired. … And I got Charlie to milk for me, so I just went to bed when I got home.  Things like this funeral just tucker me out anymore.”

          “I’m glad you sat with us Grandpa.”

          “Me too Mike, I’m pretty tired too;” I added. “But I don’t think I’ve ever gotten up this early.”

          “Me three Mike.  I’m tired too, and I‘m really glad you sat with us,” added Amanda, “but I don’t think I’m very fun today.”

          “That’s ok Amanda, you’re still just what I need.  Beautiful, nice, young women do an old man good.  Now the boy’s group, over there,” pointing to where Thomas, T.J., and some other boys were being kind of rowdy at a corner table, “are just a little too much for me today.  You are all just perfect.  Thanks again for letting me sit with you.” Just then Mark placed a heaping plate in front of Mike with ham, funeral potatoes, green beans, and 2 big rolls.   “Oh, … thank you Mark!”  By this time, I noticed Max having a talk with the boys at the table.  T.J. seemed to know the other boys too.  I asked Beth, who they were.  “Oh, in order from where T.J. is sitting, around the table to the right are: Brad, Hayden, and Carson.”

          The butter and a picture of water with cups, napkins and plastic ware, were already on the table for us. 

          “You bet grandpa.”  Mark then made a quick exit back to his table with Thomas, T.J. and the other boys.  It still really surprised me to see T.J. having fun with normal kids.

          “You know what Charlie would really miss?” asked Mike.  “The Funeral Potatoes!  He loved these.  Said he never got anything like these in the Army.  He used to say; ‘there’s only one thing better than funeral potatoes, and that’s more funeral potatoes.’  People were the most important thing for Charlie; but he sure loved these potatoes;” mike finished with a forced grin.

          I had to agree, funeral potatoes were amazing.

          As Mike was talking, Jason walked up behind him, followed by a tall, muscular guy about Jason’s age.  Jason and this other guy had changed into work clothes.  When he got to the table, Jason put his hand on Amanda’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze while he talked to Mike.  Amanda, without looking, reached for his hand on her shoulder and just held it there.

          “Grandpa, me and Roman just went over to your place and fed the cows. I’ll go back over when this is over and milk. You don’t need to worry about it.”

          “Thanks Jason, I really appreciate it.  Check Babe before you milk her, she’s had mastitis. Keep her separate from the other cows and you’ll have to milk her out by hand. Did you feed her too?”

          “Yep, and I’ll get her taken care of.” Jason then cleared his throat as he gave his friend, who was flirting with Beth, a stern look, and a little whack. “By the way everyone, this is Roman. He’s one of Grandpa and Charlie’s neighbors.” Then staring at Roman, “Let’s get some food.” As Jason and Roman walked off I could hear Jason chewing Roman out. “That’s not cool man; you just don’t flirt with a guy’s sister.”

          “I don’t think I’ll ever date with Jason around.” sighed Beth.

          Jason and Roman came back with a big plate of food.  Jason managed to squeeze in on the other side of Amanda and Roman managed to sit next to Beth.

          As we talked, Amanda seemed to cheer up a little and after a while she leaned over to me and whispered.

          “Can I come over and spend the night?  I think I’d like to take a short nap and then get up and I’d like to talk.  Is that ok?”  She looked like it was really important to her.  I had been thinking all day about talking with Amanda.  I wanted to tell her everything, including how awful I’d been to her and Beth.  It was still weighing on me big time and I just had to get it out.  I guessed I might as well get it over with.  Besides, I couldn’t turn her down.

          “Sure; but I have to tell you some things.  Some things that aren’t very nice about me and I want you to promise that if for any reason, after we talk, you want to go home, you’ll tell me, and I’ll have my dad take you.  Is that a deal?”

          Looking confused, Amanda answered, “well… OK”

          “Are you going to have your parents drop you off of do you want to come home with me?”

          “I’d rather go home with you if that’s ok.  I’ve got some other clothes and something to sleep in, in a bag in the car.  I’ll change before we go and give what I’m wearing to my dad.  Sorry I didn’t ask you before…. I hope it’s not a problem.”

          “No, no problem.  By the way, you really look beautiful in that dress.”

          “Thank you.”

          “Let me tell my mom and dad.  Besides my dad loves having you around almost as much as I do,” I finished with a grin.