Never Lonely Again
Author's note: Clay owns himself and his own name. I only wrote the words
to the story.
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An unspecified date in August 2003
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An undisclosed hotel
room somewhere in
Clay sat on the edge of the empty bathtub in the motel room, rocking and pulling at his hair as he cried uncontrollably. He would have preferred the comfort of the main room, but he would have disturbed his sound-asleep bunkmate with this display of emotion. How did I get here? How did it ever come to this? His life had turned absolutely stir-crazy almost overnight, and he felt that he no longer had any control over it. He thrived on being able to control his own life, and now that feeling of being out of control was threatening his very sanity.
I’m no one special at
all... yet these people are screaming and swooning as if I’m some sort of sexy
superstar. This is crazy... what on
earth do they see in me?? I’m just an ordinary guy... I’m just
Clay. Just Clay... nothing more than
that. Certainly no one special. So why
do they treat me like I am??
There were several times along the American Idol tour where the fans showed their insatiable fervor towards Clay. And there were several times that Clay was very glad that the tour had been provided with security. He and Ruben had definitely needed it. The sensation one got from being mobbed, of being totally surrounded by strangers, was one that he wouldn’t wish on his worst and greatest enemy.
My life has turned into a circus... and I’m the freak show.
He felt trapped. He needed out of the room. He needed some fresh air. He needed to go anywhere at all. But with his new-found fame and the fact that the fans knew exactly where he was tonight, he didn’t dare go anywhere without a bodyguard. And considering the unreasonable hour of the morning, he just didn’t have the heart to wake Jerome for this.
All I need right now
is a friend to talk to... all I need is for someone to see me for who I really
am. I need someone to see the real
me. I’m just a nerd... a big nerd whose
life has gone haywire.
Clay smeared the tears all over his cheeks as he continued to weep. Never in his life before now had he ever felt so alone as he did tonight.
Will there ever be anyone who sees me as I am? Will there ever be anyone who sees just Clay ever again? Will there ever be anyone who treats me like a normal human being?
His mind returned to a few pieces of fan mail that he had been given by Joey, one of the interns from the studios. Every so often the management wanted them to have some of the better fan mail to read, but it amazed Clay what they thought of as the “better” fan mail. Some days it meant the stuff that touched his heart... other days it meant stuff that made him uncomfortable or embarrassed. He had looked at the turkey baster with complete and total confusion until someone had explained the reference to him. Yeah, some days innocence really was bliss. Fortunately Joey was one of the more sympathetic interns that had been assigned to select fan mail for the Idols to read. Joey had given Clay letters from children, from teachers, from fellow Christians, or from anyone he thought would inspire and pick Clay up along the tour. Clay was very thankful that Joey had been looking out for him.
Maybe I’ll find something in Joey’s latest stack that will help me feel better... maybe there’s something from someone in there that will make me feel like a normal person again. If I was ever normal to begin with. Still wiping tears from his cheeks, Clay retrieved this week’s short stack of fan mail from his luggage. There were only about five this time, and this was the first opportunity Clay was able to find to look at them. Provided he could concentrate over Ruben’s snoring. Sitting down on the edge of his own bed, he began to read the letters one by one. While the letters were certainly meaningful and touching, none of them were achieving the desired affect of helping him feel normal again.
Finally he grabbed the last letter with a deeply wistful
sigh and did a double-take at the return address.
Clay couldn’t put his finger on what, but there was something about Kate’s letter that caught his undivided attention the first time he read it. He couldn’t put his finger on what that was the second or third time he read the letter either. After realizing that something strange was going on, he read the letter a fourth time to see if he couldn’t figure out what had sent all his senses into warp speed. Finally he decided that he wasn’t going to figure it out, and read it another time to enjoy even briefly whatever it was that was making him feel alive again.
Finally he forced himself to lay the letter down beside him on the bed in order to clear his head and think… and clearing his head took a few minutes longer than he thought it should. Must be this grueling schedule they’re putting us through. Once the lightheadedness had gone away, he carefully picked the letter back up and tried to put all of his earlier emotions aside to think logically. Judging from its context, Clay could tell this was not the first letter she had written him.
It took a few more times reading the letter before Clay decided that he wasn’t returning this one to the studio. I wonder how much trouble Joey and I will get in if I try to con Joey into looking to see if she sent more. Just the same, Clay decided to risk it and stuffed her letter down deep into the bottom of his luggage separately from the others. There was something about this letter and this woman that intrigued him enough to find out. As soon as they returned from the tour, he was going to have to take Joey aside privately to ask him for a HUGE favor.
***
“Are you out of your stinkin’ mind?”
Clay grimaced, hoping that Joey’s voice didn’t carry. He was glad that he had made sure no one was nearby when he made his request. “You read her letter yourself, Joey – you chose to put it in the stack! You obviously saw something in there that was worth passing on!”
“Well, yeah,” Joey muttered, “but I didn’t think it was going to make you ask me to go snooping in all those boxes and bags for more. Let’s just say for a moment that I agree to help you. Do you have any idea how long that’s going to take? Do you have any idea how sneaky I’m going to have to be to get it done, to say nothing of getting it all past security??”
“I can’t even begin to imagine,” Clay admitted honestly. “I have no idea how many pieces of mail I’ve received here since Idol began, let alone how many of them are from her.”
“Let’s just say that it would take you months to read them all… and that’s doing nothing but reading letters all day.”
His eyes growing wide, Clay blew a deep breath out through pursed lips. From the sounds of things, it looked like Clay would have to settle for just the one letter. But he didn’t have to like it.
“What’s it worth to you?”
“Hunh?” Clay asked, eyes bulging anew at the question.
“What are you willing to do for me if I find a way to do it?” Joey asked. “If it was an easier task, I’d say ‘no problem’… but there’s going to be a lot of time and risk involved here. If I’m going to stick out my neck for you, I want to make it worth my while.”
Clay gulped. This conversation was taking a rather sinister turn. “Well, I-I-I… that is, I mean…”
Joey crossed his arms. “Tell you what. How ‘bout I name my price and see if it’s worth it?”
“Go ahead,” Clay said quickly, wanting this to end quickly. “I can only say yes or no.”
With a calculating look in his eye, Joey went on. “See, it’s about the girl, isn’t it? If I’m going to help you find out more about your girl, you gotta help me try to win over my girl.”
“Oh,” Clay responded quietly. “Well… if that’s the price, tell me more. I’ll see if I can help.”
“She’s one of the junior file clerks up in accounting. Name’s Bridget. Gorgeous blonde hair, really nice…” Glancing over at Clay to see if his train of thought was going to follow his own mind into the gutter, Joey quickly changed what he was going to say. “… eyes.” Clay rolled his eyes but said nothing. “She really digs your music, Clay. She’d get an autograph from you herself, but she’s kind of shy.”
“Ah,” Clay said with understanding. “And that’s where I come in.”
“Not just any autograph, Clay… a personalized autograph.”
Clay nodded. “Just don’t mention to anyone how you got it, and we have a deal.”
***
Clay’s head swam as he gazed over the huge collection of
envelopes. There’s so many of them… I don’t even want to know how Joey found all
of them so quickly. Some were
clearly the size, shape and color of greeting cards. Some were standard letters. Hopefully at least one contained a photograph
of its author. Each one contained more
of the same kind of love and support he had read that emotionally-wrought night
on tour. Where to start…
It took him a few moments to recover from his daze, but eventually he decided to put them in order by postmark. Only then would he know in what order to read them all… and in what part of the sequence would the letter he already read fall. He put them all in date order, took a deep breath, and opened the first one to begin reading.
Finally after having read them all, Clay’s mind reeled from absorbing the acceptance, compassion, and empowerment this woman had attempted to show him over the past months. Wow… this is unreal. What in all of God’s world would prompt someone, much less a young lady that amazing, to do something this sweet… for me? His mind began to wander further as he pondered more of what she was like, including what she looked like. After all, guys were wired to be visual… they noticed those things about a woman. Regretfully not a single envelope had contained a photograph, leaving Clay to continue wondering about her physical appearance. Was she tall, short, or average height? What was the shape and color of her face? Was her hair long or short, and what color was it? What color were her eyes? Did she wear glasses or contacts, or was she lucky enough to not need either? Did she have freckles just like Clay? Was her smile half as beautiful as he imagined it to be?
Suddenly he was overwhelmed with the curiosity to find out the rest of what she was like for himself. Within moments he began mentally brainstorming ways he could somehow find her, somehow even contact her. He grabbed a notepad and began writing down some of the better ideas.
After a while, Clay thought he had a reasonably workable plan. Since at this time all he had for personal contact information was her return address, he would have to write her to find out more. A crazy plan to be sure, but he was determined to risk it to find out everything he needed to know. It was either write her, or hire a detective. Somehow the latter option smacked of deceit to him, and he dismissed it for now. However, he knew there would have to be some safeguards in place before he sent her even the first letter of his own.
Safeguard one: he was going to set up a post office box as their initial point of contact. His return address would be that PO box, and the address to where she would send her mail would be that same PO box. If he ever needed to cut all ties to that box, he could and would. Safeguard two: he wasn’t about to use his real name on or in his letters, and he was going to convince Kate to do the same with hers. Safeguard three: he would create an online email address registered to that fake name, another account that he could easily drop or cancel in a heartbeat. Safeguard four: he would restrict them to letters and email at first, until he was convinced beyond the shadow of doubt that she was exactly who she seemed to be in her letters.
And there was a lot at stake here, a multitude of reasons
for those safeguards. For starts, he
didn’t want this coming back to hurt Kate, Clay himself, or any of their
respective loved ones. Remembering the
no-fraternization clause in the freshly-signed contract from RCA, Clay could
only imagine the kind of hot water he could find himself in if he got
caught. He wasn’t supposed to have
contact with fans unless it was in an approved setting. What he was planning was definitely not one of those approved settings. But by the same token, Clay knew that he was
going to go out of his mind crazy if he did nothing and tried to forget. Darned
if you do, darned if you don’t… we’re caught between the rock and the hard
place.
Looking over the outline of his plan, Clay was satisfied with his effort. While it wasn’t foolproof, it was a start. Clay put his notes down on the table, laying his pen beside them. This had been merely a brainstorming session – in the morning he would begin refining the details and plugging any holes he found. But yet tonight he gave himself a final task: choosing what to use for a pseudonym…
At last he had it.
His buddy Ruben actually went by his middle name, telling his real first
name only to his closest and dearest friends.
Clay had been one of those people he had shared it with, and he would
‘borrow’ it as the first name for his pseudonym… after all, it was a very
common name. As for the fake last name,
he would stick with the familiar Southern tradition of choosing names based on
local cities and towns. The town of
Christopher Andrews it is.
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Friday, September 19, 2003
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Kate and Sarah’s
apartment in Kearney,
Kate chewed on her lip as she pulled into a parking spot at
the complex. Odd, she pondered as she
stared at the radio in her car, listening to the last few strains of This is the Night before another song
came on. Clay’s single has only been out how
long, and this is the first time I’ve heard it played on this station? Makes you wonder if our football team is
actually going to win homecoming this year.
Maybe if we were playing someone other than
Still thinking about the song on the radio, Kate grabbed her bags and entered her apartment. Sarah glanced up from her work in the kitchen to give her a friendly greeting. “Hey, Katydid. How’s school?”
“First month is out of the way,” Kate offered as she placed her bags in her own room. “None of the students have killed each other off yet.”
Sarah snickered. “That’s always a bonus.”
“Though at the rate they’re already going, it’s just a matter of time before I string Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum up by their toes…” Kate grunted as she re-entered the room, mentioning her pet nicknames that referred to a pair of mischievous sophomore boys by the names of Alec and Ron.
This time Sarah raised an eyebrow – she was quite familiar
with Kate’s tales of their antics. The
boys were intelligent enough… they were just a pair of goofballs that fancied
themselves the school’s greatest undiscovered comedy act. “I can’t wait to hear about it.” She pointed towards the table. “There’s your mail.” As Kate grabbed the stack from the table,
Sarah went on. “I’ve already pulled out
the bills, they’re in the bill stack.”
Kate nodded; many of the household bills they split the costs on and
took turns writing the checks to pay them.
“As for yours, it’s mostly the usual.
There’s an envelope in there that I didn’t recognize at all. Name wasn’t familiar, address wasn’t
familiar. It’s from some post office box
in
“Oh, so you think it’s some sort of scam artist?” Kate
asked, quickly glancing through her stack.
Newsletter from my foreign
language ed group, something from the church, credit card offer that’s going to
find that shredder before the night ends, bank statement… Kate turned to the envelope Sarah had
mentioned and felt her heart stop. Christopher Andrews…? She blinked at the name and the unfamiliar
Immediately Sarah joined her. “Kate, are you alright?”
“Y-Yeah,” Kate acknowledged with a faint nod. “F-Fine. I’m… fine.”
“You sure?” Sarah asked skeptically. “The last time I saw you half zoned-out like that, it was several weeks ago when you had that major crying freakout… the one we found out later was the same night that Clay was hospitalized on tour for another serious allergic reaction.”
“What??” Kate’s head jerked up at the mention of Clay, her attention once again fully focused.
“You heard me,” Sarah nodded. “I know full well you haven’t forgotten what happened that night, so don’t even pretend that you have no idea what I’m talking about. While we’re on the subject, I’ve decided that I don’t buy the ‘just a coincidence’ tale any more. You have far too many suspicious little ‘coincidences’ to your credit. Especially where Clay is involved.”
In spite of the fact that she didn’t want to consider the implications, Kate knew that Sarah was right. The night on tour that Clay was hospitalized for another allergic reaction, Kate experienced a tearful meltdown from which she took quite a while to recover. Moreover, many of the sensations she felt now as she considered this letter in her hand were the same as the ones she felt that night. Only the anxiety and the water works were absent today - and she couldn’t say that she minded missing those. “Sarah,” she began weakly. Kate held up the letter from today’s mail. “I think this is from him.”
“Are you serious?” Sarah frowned, her skepticism obvious. “That’s not what it said on the envelope.”
“I know,” Kate admitted. “But that’s who it’s from. The initials are still the same.”
“Kate, I know lately you’ve been pulling a lot of Clay-related coincidences out of thin air, but that really is circumstantial evidence at best and I don’t have to tell you the odds.” Sarah watched as Kate nodded confirmation before she continued. “He doesn’t exactly have time with his crazy schedule to write to any of his fans, not even those who send as many cards and letters as you do.”
Kate sighed. “Tell me about it.”
Much to Sarah’s relief, Kate’s answer smacked of fully aware realism and not delusion. It was a start. “So why do you think it’s him?” Sarah asked.
Looking confused, Kate shook her head and shrugged. “I have no clue why, only that I’m convinced of it. I know what it says on the envelope, I know the odds are past stupid, I sure have no idea why in the world he would write me when there are thousands more deserving – “
“Oh, piffle,” Sarah interrupted with a huff.
“ – But I have absolutely no doubts that it’s him. I don’t know why.”
Sarah snorted, still not quite ready to believe her roommate on this one. “Let’s open it and see.” Kate picked up a table knife from one of the place settings, but Sarah intervened before she could even slip it under the edge of the flap. “Don’t even think about it with the way you’re shaking.”
“Sarah, it’s not a sharp knife,” Kate complained as she held
up the knife for her inspection. True to
Sarah’s assessment, Kate’s hands were shaking visibly. Kate blinked and stared at her offending
hands, completely bewildered at what was happening to her. First
the song, now this…
“Do I need to remind you the other nickname you gained in college?”
Kate pouted, her face souring at the memory. Calamity Kate was the moniker she had earned at the hands of others, and earned it she had. As she was leaving after a dress rehearsal for a choir concert, Kate had walked along the edge of the stage – and accidentally fell off of it when one of her steps found thin air! Her choirmates had all witnessed the fall and had naturally been concerned for her. Fortunately she hadn’t been hurt, but her pride never recovered from that day as the nickname followed her throughout the rest of her college career. Whether or not she wanted to admit it, Kate was a klutz and had been most of her life. The stage incident was only one of many hapless tales Kate had tucked away in her memory. Feeling defeated and not a little sulky, she handed the envelope and knife to Sarah.
Placing the knife blade inside the end of the envelope, Sarah made a quick, neat cut along the top lip of the envelope and handed it back to Kate. “Here ya go. I know you’d never forgive me if I peeked and it turned out you were right.”
With a snicker, Kate once more put her shaking hands to retrieving the letter from the envelope. Very quietly to herself she began to read.
“Kate?”
At last Sarah’s voice brought Kate back to reality, and she looked up wide-eyed at her roommate. “It really is from him,” Kate breathed as she quickly glanced back down at the letter.
“Oh my gosh…” Sarah breathed back, her jaw hanging slack as she too glanced at the letter. “You… you really got a letter back from him. From Clay Aiken!”
“From Clay Aiken…” Suddenly Kate blinked back up at Sarah. “You can’t tell anyone about this, Sarah. Not a soul, okay? This is between you and me.”
“I feel privileged,” Sarah told her, “but why keep it secret?”
“Sarah, you’ve seen how nuts his life has become. He gets mobbed, he gets followed around, he
gets asked questions that are just all sorts of invasive. People don’t respect his privacy now that
he’s famous. If anyone gets wind that he
wrote me a letter…” Kate smoothed a gentle thumb over the print, “then it’s
only going to be trouble for him. Look,
he came right out and said that the reason he is using a post office box and a
fake name is to protect my privacy
from the media. But I think he needs it
to protect himself as well, not just me.
Think about it: how in the world does he know he can trust me?
If he decides I’m the ultimate wacko, which you already know I am, he can just close the box and
force me back out of his life as quickly as he let me into it.” She winced, and her eyes turned sad. Considering
the mess that my life is, he will probably have to do that anyway. And
when that day comes, I won’t blame him a bit.
“Kate,” Sarah protested, “you’re no wacko. A little off the wall at times…”
“Hey, I never claimed to be normal.”
Sarah raised her eyebrow with a wry grin but otherwise ignored Kate’s comment. “ – but from what I can see, the two of you are peas in a pod in that sense.”
“Ouch…” Kate made a face. “I’m not sure which one of us you just insulted more, him or me.”
“You’ll get over it. Alright, Kate... between you and me.” The resolute look on Sarah’s face once more assured Kate that Sarah would be the very picture of discretion. “What about your mom?”
Kate glanced down at the envelope thoughtfully. “She’d be the only other person I’d trust with this at the moment. Dad’s trustworthy enough, but this might be stretching the belief factor for him. I mean, if I’m truly lucky this might become a pen pal sort of thing. At the very least, I have a more reliable place than the AI studio to send him encourager cards.”
“Such an optimist,” Sarah sighed. “I haven’t even read your letter yet, but I would bet that he seems quite eager to keep the letters going back and forth. Right?”
“Yeah, but…” Kate shrugged. “He’s a nice guy, and I’m sure he likes to make new friends.”
“After American Idol,” Sarah began, “I’m sure he has thousands of people, just like you suggested, who would be more than happy to volunteer to make friends with Clay Aiken. Yet he wrote you.”
“I know…” Kate whispered. “And why is beyond me.” She looked down at the letter in her hand. “Just before I got home, This is the Night was playing on the radio. I hadn’t heard it on the radio yet, this was the first time.”
“Seriously?” Sarah asked, her eyes widening.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was as if the song was playing to tell me that his letter was here.” Kate made a face and snorted. “Yeah, right. Like that’s possible.”
Sarah shrugged helplessly. “Kate, normally I’d be the first to agree with you, but this whole situation with Clay is anything but normal. You know what your mom says. ‘If God wants something to happen, nothing will stop it. If God doesn’t want something to happen, nothing will make it.’ I don’t think the word ‘impossible’ is in God’s vocabulary if it’s something He wants to have happen… including playing a song on the radio to give you a heads-up that this letter was here.” She shook her head incredulously as she considered the letter in Kate’s hands. “The odds are pretty ridiculous and it doesn’t make any sense… but it’s not an impossible task for Him at all.”
“For nothing is impossible with God,” Kate quoted as she too studied the letter.
“Speaking of impossible… once again I have to remind you that you’ve been doing a lot of seemingly impossible things yourself lately, and most of it has been connected with Clay.” Sarah watched a puzzled expression cross Kate’s face and continued. “You’ve known facts about him before they were revealed in interviews, you’ve known his character before we’ve had a chance to see what he’s like. You had those really weird episodes the times he had his allergic reactions… mood swings, Counselor Troi-like empathy sensations or whatever they were. Now you have this letter that you knew was his before we ever opened it. It has been almost as if you could somehow feel it.” She waited for Kate to process everything before continuing. “You can keep on denying it if you want, dearie, but you’ve got your mom’s gift. You have the sixth sense. If you ask me, to continue denying it at this point would be like burying a talent in the sand.”
Familiar with Sarah’s chosen reference, slowly Kate nodded. Each and every one of Sarah’s words were true, but until they actually came from her mouth Kate had hoped to pretend that it was all just a figment of her imagination. She didn’t have that liberty any more. “You’re right, Sarah. You’re absolutely right. After today, it would take more work to deny having it than it would to accept it. It all seems so impossible… but these things keep happening and I can’t stop them. It’s like our brains are hotwired together or something, but I know that sort of thing is impossible.”
Laughing at the reference, Sarah nodded. “Hotwired brains, I like that. We’ve got to tell your Mom that one. I bet she’d love it.”
The mention of her mother sobered Kate further. “Everything that’s happened here is between you, me, and Mom, okay? The letter, the insight… all of it. Got it?”
Sarah held up her hands. “No argument there. None of this is exactly normal, and most people wouldn’t believe you unless you were able to prove it to them.”
“And of course I can’t, since I have no control over this thing…” Kate leaned on one fist and sighed. “Sarah, did you know that all the way through school I wanted very much to have the sixth sense just like Grandma, Mom, and all the aunts. But now that I’ve graduated college and had a chance to mature and really see the world… and certainly now that I appear to have it… I think the gift scares me. It completely scares the snort out of me.”
“Which is why your mother never brings it up outside the family,” Sarah murmured dryly.
Kate nodded vigorously. “People would think she’s crazy, they wouldn’t believe her… or if they did believe her, they’d be frightened by it. Every one of my aunts said that they didn’t tell their husbands right away, and neither did Mom. She tells me that Dad has handled it amazingly well... although the first few times unnerved him, he believed her and has stuck with her ever since.”
Sarah grinned. “Much to your dad’s credit. His sense always did impress me.”
With a sigh, Kate nodded again. “As for my so-called ‘connection’ with Clay, I guess at this point we’ll just have to wait and see what happens. I’m sure not planning to tell him any of this any time soon, he’d think I was completely out of my mind delusional! Not that I’d blame him, I feel delusional… as well as just plain scared. I can only imagine how scared he’d be if he ever finds out even half of this. He probably would run screaming. Believe me, I certainly wouldn’t blame him at all for running from a freak like me.” She sighed again, not noticing the concern in Sarah’s eyes. “But there is one other thing about this letter that just plain puzzles me.”
“What’s that?”
“I wonder how he came up with his choice of pen name,” Kate murmured. “Christopher Andrews.”
“Why would something like that be important?” Sarah asked.
“It isn’t,” Kate nodded acknowledgement. “Just the same, hear me out. I know I’ve mentioned in my letters that my brother’s name is Andrew. I’ve told him stories about Drew’s adventures and mentioned that he needs lots of prayers because of his non-existent faith life. But…”
“But…”
Kate looked back up at Sarah. “But I never mentioned in my letters that my grandpa’s name was Christopher. Since all of my grandparents are gone, the subject never came up.”
Sarah blinked with surprise. “Really? Which grandpa?”
“Dad’s dad. Christopher Henry Kirche.”
“Interesting,” Sarah admitted. “Probably just coincidence though, as we have no reason to believe he has anything like your family gift.”
“Yeah, I’m sure it’s just coincidence. I have no reason to believe God’d add that little trick on top of everything else. It’s just too outrageous.” Kate snickered. “The only way we’ll know it’s not coincidence is if Clay has a relative named Kathryn or something.”
“Cute, Katydid.”
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Thursday, October 9, 2003
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Clay punched the power button on the remote with wry
detachment, turning the TV off. He had
already known the content of that particular program; what he hadn’t known was
which parts had been selected to be aired.
By having it on in the background, he would also know when it was over
in the
Their first few rounds of correspondence had not only gone well, they had gone better than expected. Clay had received his first letter to the post office box on the 26th, and it had been all he could do to keep from opening it then and there. When he did open it within the safe confines of his home, he had been extremely pleased with the results. Kate had indeed agreed to his request to be addressed as Chris Andrews both on the outside of the envelope and the inside, as evidenced by how quickly she put his request into practice. Moreover, he almost thought that she seemed to understand the reasons why, even though she never came out and said it.
Her first letter to the PO box did make reference to her “Clay fandom”, but she made her references brief and in third-person as if she was talking about someone far off instead of the letter’s recipient. The specific references she did make touched his heart; they were all about how much of a difference he was making in the world around him, how much she believed in him and wanted to let him know that she was praying for him and his faith, that he could stay strong in the months and years ahead - “if I could tell him”.
Then she immediately changed the subject, treating him throughout the rest of the letter as if he was someone entirely removed from what she had been formerly talking about. She talked about her own faith, her family, her job, life in general, and encouraged him to tell her anything he felt comfortable sharing in return. She even asked Clay to talk about his teaching experiences as if she had become pen-pals with him through some sort of educational organization.
This is not an ordinary woman, he had once more told himself. She was treating him as if he was a very normal, everyday man, NOT the newest and latest celebrity on the pop music scene. And Clay was completely enchanted by it.
Clay had read the letter several more times before taking a break to mentally digest everything in her newest contact. It wasn’t until he had incorporated all of it that he attempted his next correspondence to her… and even then he felt himself somewhat at a loss. After screwing up several sheets of paper, he had taken to his computer to create her newest letter. He typed, erased, typed some more, second-guessed himself several more times, edited like mad, and in general wondered what kind of outlandish craziness he was getting himself into as he finally came to what seemed to be a reasonable finished product. Only after he read it through twice without changing anything further did he pick his pen and paper back up to attempt putting the letter into his own handwriting. I must be out of my mind… he told himself during a brief break to rub a minor cramp out of his hand. He thought about that a few more minutes before coming to a frightening conclusion. If he was out of his mind, it was a far more natural and wonderful state than he ever expected it to be. That’s not a good sign.
Of course he had sent the letter to her. He was already in deeper than he had bargained for when he read the rest of her letters, he wasn’t going to stop now. Not without a reason that made undeniable sense to him. Then again, under his current set of circumstances writing a woman he had never met didn’t exactly make sense in the first place. It was one of the very courses of action the contract provision was meant to prevent him from doing, so that he would not get himself into deep and dire trouble. Even though it was before his time, Clay knew full well what happened to John Lennon. Yet oddly enough, it still felt like the right thing for him to be doing. Definitely not a good sign.
Knowing that things were going to start getting crazy again with all of the debut album promotion, one thing Clay did in his letter was give Kate the email address registered to Christopher Andrews. He reasoned that once he was out on the road, letters were going to sit in that mailbox an awfully long time before he got to them… and he didn’t want to wait and risk getting out of the loop. Or losing contact with her altogether. Neither option appealed to him, so he suggested taking their correspondence to email.
Kate had responded with an email on the 2nd, the week following his receipt and sending of the next cycle in their correspondence. She seemed open to the suggestion, but warned him that she would still send a few things to the mailbox… they would just not be time-sensitive pieces, nor would they be often while he was on the road. It had taken Clay several minutes of thought to guess that she intended to keep sending occasional cards of encouragement to the box, non-specific in nature so that they would hopefully be applicable whenever he opened them.
Clay had chuckled at seeing her email address. They had chosen the same provider, but hers was “frauleinkirche” in reference to her foreign languages job. She had given approval of his choice as well, a reference pulled from his love of reading. It had been an impulsive choice, as most of his reading as of late had more to do with social issues and impacting the world around him… but he couldn’t help himself and chose a reference to a bit of children’s literature, “prideofaslan78”. The fact that there was still a lot of weight to the works of C.S. Lewis made him unashamed of his choice; Kate’s apparent love of the books gave him additional confidence that he had made a good one. The unpredictability factor was always worth something too.
One of the first things Kate did in her initial email was
give Clay pronunciation tips on a pair of names… hers, and her city’s. Clay was grateful that she had chosen to do
that before they moved to the voice-to-voice stage, as he would have butchered
them both. Looking at the “Kirche” name,
Clay’s natural inclination would be to pronounce it “Kirk”… as in the captain
of the
After that, the emails had been swapped at a quicker pace than the letters had, with one of them writing the other every other day. Clay noticed that she was still careful to try to treat him as someone other than who he really was – and it was quickly apparent that she had the desire to protect his privacy and his identity on her own, with no prompting from him. He couldn’t help finding that a relief, and wanted to do her the same favor in return. There was no telling what torture the media would put them both through if they found out. However, he had no intention of letting that happen.
Opening up another tab on his internet browser, Clay
navigated over to the page for his email account and logged in. He didn’t have anything from Kate yet,
however it could still be a matter of time.
Fortunately this particular email provider had an instant message
program available… one that would also let him know when she logged on to her
own email account. He pulled up the
instant messenger and logged in with the bogus screen name, watching as Kate’s
account came up as the sole contact in his list. Not on
just – oh, there she is. He smiled
warmly, knowing that now it was probably just going to be a matter of time
before he heard from her. Fortunately
this program also let him know if he received new email, too. He would know within moments when she sent something,
if she chose to do it yet tonight. Considering what was revealed tonight on
Prime Time, Clay mused, this might be
the end of the friendship. I wouldn’t be
all that surprised if it happens that way.
After a few moments of playing a somewhat mindless game on his computer, the instant messenger program sounded the new email alert. Guess I’d better go read the bad news… Clay sighed and refreshed the browser window to acquire Kate’s new email. What Clay saw there surprised him yet again.
Chris,
Please forgive me for
being somewhat short tonight. You may have
heard that the guest tonight on Prime Time was that Aiken character I’ve become
so fond of in the last handful of months.
I still plan to write you a more complete email in response to your
last, but I’m not prepared to do so tonight after what I’ve seen and heard on
the show. My heart is absolutely broken
over what this beautiful, vulnerable man has gone through in his life, and it’s
going to take me a bit of time to digest it well enough to get my words back.
I know he’s probably
come to grips over most of it, but my crazy ears thought that they almost heard
like he still hurts sometimes over how he was treated. I feel like crying for him, truth told. It makes me want to hug him and reassure him
that he’s not alone… he’s a very special child of God, and he will ALWAYS have
someone there to support him and love him unconditionally. Not that hearing it from someone like me
would matter all that much, I’m sure.
I promise I’ll write
more tomorrow when I’ve got my head back on straight.
Take care and stay out
of trouble.
Kate
Clay gaped at her open and loving words towards himself, and her defacing words towards herself, stunned at the acceptance of not just the events and the issues, but of him. She still accepted him… and she would indeed be writing him again tomorrow.
This definitely isn’t an ordinary woman… I know I’ve made the right choice. But how can it be possible that deliberately breaking the rules can be the right choice? Somehow Clay suspected that he was never going to receive the answer to his question. He also suspected that somewhere down the line he would end up finding himself held accountable for his actions… whether it remained between him and God alone, or whether others would become aware of the circumstances. All I ask, Papa God, is that you protect Kate… she’s done nothing wrong. Unless encouraging me is somehow wrong.
Quietly Clay put together a response to her email, hoping to reassure her and tell her certain things without spelling them out. He closed his eyes, took several deep breaths, and concentrated before putting his hands to the keyboard. Opening his eyes again, he began to type.
Kate,
That Aiken character
is going to have to speak for himself, but personally I am touched by your
compassion and your heart. Your words
have shown them for what they are from the very first letter, and I have no
doubts that he too would see you for your depth of character and faith. I also have no doubts that because of that,
he too would take umbrage at your implication that you are anything less than
special in spite of your claims to the contrary.
But that is all
rhetorical discussion as I found you first.
And I am a lucky man for your friendship.
I look forward to
hearing more from you tomorrow. We will
discuss your amazing uniqueness at another time.
Chris
Clay clicked the “send” button, and his correspondence was sent. There… let’s see what she thinks of that. Try calling herself “nothing special” on my watch, will she…
Suddenly it dawned on Clay that the tables had turned – less
than a month earlier he had felt that he was nothing special, only to find
correspondence from this delightful woman endeavoring her best to convince him
otherwise. Now she was saying that she was nothing special, and it was his
turn to convince her. We make quite a pair, don’t we? Clay
asked himself dryly.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Thursday, October 23, 2003
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kate’s apartment in
Kearney, Nebraska
Kate sat down at her computer with a deep sigh, relieved to finally be done with the remnants of her planning for school. Now that Clay’s promotional events had let up somewhat, she could probably expect another e-mail from him. In spite of his crazy schedule he had still found time to correspond with her… it had just been slightly less frequent and usually at very odd times of the night. Yesterday on Kate’s way out the door to school, she had caught a quick glimpse of him on Good Morning America, and she hadn’t regretted her choice. That morning Clay had been presented with an award for his first album going double platinum in the two weeks since its debut. She and Sarah had both squealed with excitement for his sake, doing their own little victory dance in the apartment before running off to their respective workplaces. Even after that the man hadn’t slowed down, as Kate’s mother had sent both of them pictures she had gleaned of Clay busily engaged in his chosen activity of the afternoon.
“Whatcha looking at,
Katydid?”
Kate pointed to the
screen. “You’d think after getting that
award yesterday he would have spent the afternoon kicking back and
relaxing.” She shook her head, her eyes
gleaming with admiration. “He spent it reading to elementary schoolchildren…
in
“Really?” Sarah
stared, leaning closer to see for herself.
“Yeah, really.” Kate leaned on her hand and sighed with a
dreamy smile. “I swear he has the most
beautiful, godly heart of any man out there.”
“Oh, big-time mush
alert!” Sarah eyed Kate wickedly. “At least you have a chance with him.
Maybe we’ll get you married off to a real man yet.”
“In your dreams and
mine both,” Kate whispered. Wanting to
divert the attention away quickly, she turned the tease back on Sarah. “You’re sweet on him too and you know it.”
“Darn right I am. I swear if that man gets any hotter,” Sarah
purred over Kate’s shoulder at the images on her computer, “we could fry eggs
on him.”
“SARAH!”
Kate laughed over the exchange now. It was so typical of the two of them. Due to a combination of factors, Kate was anything but demonstrative or vocal about her romantic inclinations. Truth told, she would call herself painfully timid when it came to the subject. Kate often suspected that her soulmate could be standing in front of her, God could be whispering directly into her ear “That’s him, you ninny,” and she would do absolutely nothing about it. She couldn’t make the first move if her life depended on it. However her friend Sarah was quite red-blooded as a female and when decorum wasn’t the order of the day didn’t feel obliged to hold back exactly what she was thinking. Some days Sarah could be as blunt as a board… one more reason she fit into Kate’s kooky family. At least around Kate’s family, she kept it down to a PG level.
Logging into her instant message program, she quickly
minimized the window and opened a browser screen to check on her email
next. Kate had emailed him shortly after
finding the
prideofaslan78: Boo!
Kate jumped with a startled squeak at the chat window that popped up unexpectedly. She blinked with surprise at the words, almost not believing her eyes. Why, that little…
frauleinkirche: Halloween isn’t
for another week, ya goof.
prideofaslan78: Aw… You going to
dress up for all of your kids?
Shaking her head with a snicker, Kate couldn’t help thinking that he was almost like a big kid himself. She put her hands back on the keyboard.
frauleinkirche: I don’t exactly
have the most original ideas for costumes.
prideofaslan78: I find that rather
hard to believe.
frauleinkirche: Okay, wise guy…
YOU suggest a costume for me.
prideofaslan78: I can do that.
Kate leaned back in her chair, waiting for a response as he was clearly thinking. She wanted to see just how original he was going to get.
prideofaslan78: So what was your
favorite Halloween costume growing up?
I’m betting you were a princess at least one year.
Doesn’t nearly every little girl pretend to be a princess at sometime or another? Instantly Kate remembered the year she dressed up as Disney’s Princess Aurora from the movie Sleeping Beauty. For as strange and off the wall as she was, not even Kate was totally immune from the Princess Syndrome. To make his comment even more incriminating, last year Sarah had brought her back a special gift from a trip to the local Renaissance fair she had attended while Kate had gone to Haiti with her cousin Sally on a mission trip. “Every woman has a little bit of princess in her,” Sarah had declared as Kate had opened a box containing a dainty silvertone tiara. By this time Kate felt that there wasn’t a single ounce of princess material in her, so she had placed the tiara out of the way over on the head of her favorite stuffed animal… but by the same token, she didn’t have the heart to get rid of it. She chose to ignore Sarah’s words as she formulated a comeback.
frauleinkirche: Evidently I
forgot to mention that I was somewhat of a tomboy as a kid.
prideofaslan78: I’ll let it go
this time.
prideofaslan78: Okay… I’ve got
it. A mix of the princess and the
tomboy. You were Princess Leia from Star
Wars.
frauleinkirche: Still a fantasy,
I’ll give you that.
prideofaslan78: Touche.
frauleinkirche: Well, I remember
one year when we were really small, Mom dressed up as the Cat in the Hat, and
Drew and I were Thing 1 and Thing 2...
prideofaslan78: Awww... I bet you
were cute.
frauleinkirche: It was probably
the last time I was ever cute.
prideofaslan78: I don’t believe
that either.
frauleinkirche: You haven’t seen
what I look like.
prideofaslan78: You going to show
me?
frauleinkirche: No.
prideofaslan78: Awww…
frauleinkirche: When I was
climbing trees as a kid, I happened to climb the ugly tree one year. I fell out of it, and hit every branch on the
way down. Mostly with my face, I think.
prideofaslan78: Kate Kirche, I
don’t believe a word of it!
frauleinkirche: Too bad, so sad.
prideofaslan78: I still want you
to send me a picture sometime.
frauleinkirche: Maybe I’ll make
it your Christmas present. Then you’ll
come back and complain to Santa for getting an ugly ol’ lump of coal in your
inbox.
prideofaslan78: Kate Kirche… shame
shame shame…
frauleinkirche: Whatever.
prideofaslan78: Is Kate your full
first name?
frauleinkirche: Are you hoping
I’ll tell you so that you can harass me with it like you did a moment ago?
prideofaslan78: You’re only in
trouble if you get the middle one too.
frauleinkirche: Kind of like
when your mother goes ‘Clayton Holmes Aiken’?
prideofaslan78: Exactly.
frauleinkirche: My full first
name is Kathryn. Kate’s a nickname. I picked it myself since I didn’t think I
sounded like a Kathy.
prideofaslan78: Really? That’s my grandmother’s name, only she spells
it differently.
frauleinkirche: Really?
prideofaslan78: Oh yeah, she
spells it Catherine. Good name.
frauleinkirche: Thank you. It means “pure”.
prideofaslan78: Pure sweetness?
frauleinkirche: Whatever.
prideofaslan78: Pure
thoughtfulness?
frauleinkirche: I only wish.
prideofaslan78: Pure mischief?
frauleinkirche: Sometimes.
prideofaslan78: Pure joy?
Kate gave a wry smile… her middle name was indeed Joy. He was right on the mark, but she wasn’t about to tell him that for now.
frauleinkirche: To my parents,
maybe.
prideofaslan78: I believe it.
frauleinkirche: You’re too kind.
She shook her head. While she was certainly enjoying their light-hearted conversation, there were some things about it that were gnawing at her. In her mind’s eye she saw the smiling, wonderful, compassionate man reading stories to schoolchildren… and knew that somewhere on a computer terminal on the other side of these wires sat the very same man. It didn’t seem possible. It didn’t make sense.
frauleinkirche: Why me?
prideofaslan78: What do you mean?
frauleinkirche: You’re someone
very special. You have so much faith and
trust in God. You have so much love and
compassion, so much patience and gentleness.
prideofaslan78: I don’t think
you’d say that if you saw me kicking back in my own house.
frauleinkirche: I know what I
see.
prideofaslan78: I know what I
*AM*.
frauleinkirche: You ARE someone
special.
prideofaslan78: Thank you. Now YOU’RE the one being too kind.
frauleinkirche: But why me? I’m nobody.
There’s nothing special about me, nothing going for me that anyone would
notice me. I’m the one who got picked on
in school, the one who was always chosen last for teams. I’m the one who got called ugly and four-eyes
and retarded by my classmates.
prideofaslan78: They were wrong to
do that to you.
frauleinkirche: I’ve been pretty
much marginalized all of my life by everyone but my family, people in my
church, a handful of teachers, and some very special friends I made in
college. As far as everyone else is
concerned, I was a geek. I was a loser. To this day I remain this unimportant little
nobody.
prideofaslan78: We nobodys have to
stick together.
frauleinkirche: But you’re not a
nobody. You’re God’s child, you’re
beautiful and you’re special, and you are NO mistake.
prideofaslan78: So are you. I was on the receiving end of bullying for a
lot of years myself.
frauleinkirche: You hide it
well. You seem so confident about
yourself.
prideofaslan78: I’ll take that as
a compliment.
frauleinkirche: How did you do
it?
prideofaslan78: I realized that
they weren’t going to change how they thought about me, so I decided to change
how I thought about myself and acted towards others. It was kind of strange to see them come
around after that.
frauleinkirche: I tried the same
thing, only it didn’t work. I didn’t get
a break until I went away to college and got a fresh start. I envy you and your self-confidence.
prideofaslan78: Smoke and mirrors,
dear lady. Sometimes guys are completely
confident in themselves and what they can do… and other times they feel like they’re
the greatest fraud on earth who’s one step away from having his cover blown for
good.
frauleinkirche: I seem to
remember reading that in a book Mom loaned to me. She read it, thought that the information it
had was vital for all women to learn about men, and immediately loaned it to
Sarah, Holly, and me in turn.
prideofaslan78: Your mother’s
smart. Do they make the same book for
men about women?
frauleinkirche: Oh yeah, Dad had
one he loaned to Drew. Dad’s not much of
a reader for the sake of reading, but he’ll read if he thinks he can learn
something useful out of it. He told Drew
that he’d get something out of it for his marriage with Holly, even as a lapsed
believer.
prideofaslan78: Let me make sure I
have the names straight. Sarah’s your
roommate, Holly’s your sister in law?
frauleinkirche: Yep. Holly’s a wonderful Christian gal, she’s such
a blessing to him in every way, and has given him the CUTEST pair of kids. Alyssa’s about two, Alex was born just
earlier this year. They are sooooo cute. I wish they were closer, I’d love to spend
more time with Holly than I get, and spoil the dickens out of her kids. I think she’d like to be closer too, some
days she really needs to vent about Drew’s faith life to people who know from
experience how thick-skulled he can be.
We’re still praying for Drew to come back around to the faith though.
prideofaslan78: I envy you your
family.
frauleinkirche: I’m blessed in
that regard.
prideofaslan78: You are.
prideofaslan78: And all the things
you say that you see in me are things I see in YOU.
A tear trickled down Kate’s cheek, betraying the feelings
beginning to bubble up from her heart and soul.
This is no ordinary man… Kate
sniffled. Papa God, he deserves someone very special as his wife, someone who will
see him for the gem he is, accept all of the hurt and blech in his past, and
will love him into becoming more every day like the man you want him to
be. Please Papa… give him someone very
special… give him someone in a million.
Kate had seen from fan reports how Clay had the ability to make every
person talking with him feel like the most important thing at that given
moment. Now he was focusing that ability
on her, and it was having some rather
strong effects on her. In spite of
herself, she almost felt like the very princess he had teased her of
being. She couldn’t help wondering if he
had ever dressed up as the proverbial knight in shining armor. Yeah,
right… it’s just your imagination running away with you again. Head out of the clouds, dorkus
frauleinkirche: Thank you. I’m not really like that, but thank you
anyway.
prideofaslan78: I would be willing
to help pray for your brother. I know
from reading your letters and emails how important that is to you.
This time Kate’s tears fell more in earnest. Drew’s absence from the faith had begun his senior year in high school, and while he was still a very good person, it wasn’t going to be enough to carry him through. Faith and faith alone would be the only thing that would save him… and with the war going on, the family all had very real fears of what could happen to him if he was deployed. All they could do was trust their son, their brother, their husband, in the hands of the One who created him. Now Kate had another soldier in the spiritual fight, another warrior to pray on Drew’s behalf. She was overcome with his kindness.
frauleinkirche: Thank you, that
offer means a lot to me. We really worry
about him sometimes.
prideofaslan78: I believe it.
frauleinkirche: So what’s your
favorite Halloween costume?
prideofaslan78: You’re changing
the subject.
frauleinkirche: Yes. Did it work?
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Tuesday, November 11, 2003
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Clay’s house in Los
Angeles, California
Clay glanced up from his work as his instant messaging program alerted him that Kate had signed in. He smiled and relaxed in his task chair, for he had been at business for some time. Preparations for his first time at both Jimmy Kimmel Live! and the American Music Awards were almost complete. But right now, the distraction was quite welcome.
prideofaslan78: Good time to bug
you?
Much to Clay’s relief, the response came back quickly.
frauleinkirche: Absolutely an
okay time. I need the release after
today. How are things going with you?
prideofaslan78: Right as rain.
frauleinkirche: I would ask if
you’re staying out of trouble, but I think I know better than that.
prideofaslan78: Of course I’m
staying out of trouble!
frauleinkirche: With what YOU
have going on this week?
prideofaslan78: (halo) I have no idea what you’re talking about.
frauleinkirche: Say that all you
want, my friend, I know better.
prideofaslan78: I am going to have
SO much fun messing with someone’s mind on Thursday. Just in time for his birthday, which makes it
even better.
frauleinkirche: So you’re planning
something dire and dastardly for ol’ Jimbo?
prideofaslan78: I think you’ll
enjoy it.
frauleinkirche: I can’t wait.
prideofaslan78: Hopefully I won’t
regret it on Sunday.
frauleinkirche: I think your
success is speaking for you. And I wish
you well Sunday too.
prideofaslan78: Thanks. That definitely means a lot to me.
frauleinkirche: You nervous
about your date?
Clay considered her words thoughtfully. He had asked an old friend of his to accompany him to the American Music Awards. She was a nice girl, very talented, absolutely beautiful, and very much close by. Officially it was very much a date – but for reasons he couldn’t place, he was uneasy. Surely it had nothing to do with the open and accepting way Kate was supporting him in these events. Clay was convinced that either she didn’t have a single jealous bone in her body or else she wasn’t even remotely interested in him in any way, shape, or form.
So why did he want her to be?
prideofaslan78: Of course not.
frauleinkirche: Lucky. I’d be a pathetic, nervous wreck.
prideofaslan78: Why?
frauleinkirche: I’m just not
very good at dating. My experiences are
nothing to talk about.
prideofaslan78: Truth told,
neither are mine.
prideofaslan78: If you want to be even
more brutally honest… I’m kind of terrified about Sunday.
frauleinkirche: Why’s that?
prideofaslan78: I’m a first-time
attendee at a super-fancy awards ceremony for a business that seems to hate
me. The ceremony is being hosted by a
person that hasn’t exactly said nice things about me. I’m not just totally new at this business,
but I’m up for two awards that I have very little chance of getting. And I’m attending it with the most beautiful
woman I’ve ever had a date with in my life.
frauleinkirche: Not exactly
going to be like kicking back and watching the ball game on TV.
prideofaslan78: You might say
that.
frauleinkirche: I’ll pray for
you, ‘k?
prideofaslan78: It will be
appreciated, believe me.
Clay was grateful for her offer… but by the same token, he seriously needed a change of subject. What to talk about… he mused to himself. At last he came up with a new topic to discuss with her.
prideofaslan78: So how was your
day at school? You said something about
needing a release.
frauleinkirche: I swear I’m
going to hang a pair of sophomore boys by their toenails before the semester
ends.
prideofaslan78: That good, hunh?
frauleinkirche: There’s a REASON
I’ve nicknamed them Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum.
prideofaslan78: DO tell.
frauleinkirche: If it’s not one
thing, it’s another. Today they were
having a belching contest in the middle of class during the time they should
have been practicing dialogues.
Technically they were still speaking Spanish like they were supposed to…
but they were burping every word they could, and complimenting each other IN
SPANISH when they ripped their way through a whole sentence like that!
prideofaslan78: Oh my goodness,
how funny. So who won?
frauleinkirche: YOU’RE SUPPOSED
TO BE ON MY SIDE!!!
prideofaslan78: It’s a guy thing,
Kate… most guys indulge in that sort of thing at one time or another. Even Brett and I have had belching contests,
sometimes even in front of Mom.
frauleinkirche: Men. I swear I’ll never understand them as long as
I live.
prideofaslan78: The feeling is
mutual, my dear.
frauleinkirche: (tongue)
prideofaslan78: I’m sure your
brother had his share of belching contests growing up.
frauleinkirche: He’s in the
military… I’m sure he still DOES. Just
not around Holly.
prideofaslan78: Not surprised.
frauleinkirche: I’m embarrassed
to admit this, but he was voted one of the top belchers of his class by the
other guys. One day after Mom harassed
him for an especially ripe one, he bragged about it to her.
prideofaslan78: You shouldn’t have
told me that. Now I’m laughing so hard I
can barely type.
frauleinkirche: Figures.
prideofaslan78: How’d your mom
react?
frauleinkirche: Hid her face
with her hands and wondered where she went wrong.
prideofaslan78: How’d your DAD
react?
frauleinkirche: He laughed until
tears were streaming down his face.
prideofaslan78: I bet life with
your family is never dull.
frauleinkirche: You got that
right.
frauleinkirche: Believe me, if
the military ever deployed him to the
prideofaslan78: Excuse me?
frauleinkirche: Haven’t you
heard that in some of those cultures to belch loudly after dinner is to pay
your host a compliment?
prideofaslan78: I seem to remember
seeing a scene in a movie with Charleton Heston like that… a meal in a tent,
and one of his fellow guests was encouraging him to burp. It was like saying thank you for the food.
frauleinkirche: Ah, Ben
Hur. I rest my case.
prideofaslan78: Speaking of
thanks, I needed the laugh.
frauleinkirche: Glad I could
oblige you.
prideofaslan78: Have you ever
visited a place where they do that?
frauleinkirche: No, just
prideofaslan78: How did you end up
visiting there?
frauleinkirche: I flew.
prideofaslan78: Har har.
frauleinkirche: Your foreign
language majors are typically required to spend a semester abroad. I spent mine in
prideofaslan78: I’ve always
admired people who had the courage to go on those kinds of trips. Did you enjoy it?
frauleinkirche: I absolutely
enjoyed every minute of it. It was a
life-changing event for me. You can’t go
on a trip like that and come back without a different perspective on things.
prideofaslan78: Are you willing to
tell me stories about your trip?
frauleinkirche: I am. I’m also willing to share a copy of my
journal with you. I typed it up in my
computer when I got back home from the trip.
I could send it to you in an email.
prideofaslan78: I’d like that.
frauleinkirche: That way you can
take my stories in bite-sized chunks, and you won’t get stuck with me babbling
on for hours.
prideofaslan78: You don’t strike
me as a babbler.
frauleinkirche: Give it
time. It isn’t often, but I will on
occasion.
prideofaslan78: In case you
haven’t noticed, I can talk a lot myself.
frauleinkirche: I enjoy
listening to you talk. You’re a very interesting
and intelligent person, and as a linguist I find accents fascinating. Yours is quite pleasant to listen to, very
soothing. Smooth as velvet.
prideofaslan78: Who said I have an
accent?
frauleinkirche: I said you
do. It’s not as pronounced as some, but
you have one.
prideofaslan78: Never thought I’d
find someone who’d actually ENJOY hearing me babble.
frauleinkirche: I didn’t say
anything about babbling…
prideofaslan78: Thanks a lot. I feel soooo loved.
frauleinkirche: Anytime.
prideofaslan78: Do you have any
plans for the holidays?
frauleinkirche: It’ll probably
be Sarah and me at Mom & Dad’s, and that’s for both Thanksgiving and
Christmas alike. At one time all the
aunts, uncles, and cousins would get together for Thanksgiving, but that was before
all of my cousins started popping babies and the family grew too big to fit my
parents’ farmhouse.
prideofaslan78: How big is your
family?
frauleinkirche: Well… Mom and
Dad each had a lot of sibs. Rural
families here in the
prideofaslan78: I believe that,
they didn’t have birth control in your grandparents’ generation.
frauleinkirche: Dad’s father was
one of… it was either twelve or thirteen kids, I never remember which without
looking at my book.
prideofaslan78: Not a small
family.
frauleinkirche: My parents
aren’t much better. Dad’s one of four
kids, and he has an obscene number of first cousins. Mom’s one of five kids, and she also has an
obscene number of first cousins.
prideofaslan78: Definitely not a
small family.
frauleinkirche: And in more ways
than one. The guys on Dad’s side are NOT
small men.
prideofaslan78: Big, strapping
farmer boys, no doubt.
frauleinkirche: You got it. Speaking of guys looking out for me, I
already mentioned that Andrew and family won’t be home for the holidays. We’re hoping that they’ll call from
prideofaslan78: Of course.
frauleinkirche: But I got an
email from Holly today that indicates it looks like his next duty station will
be back in the States. Come springtime,
they might be back here! If I understood
Holly right, they’ll get to visit roughly around my spring break!
prideofaslan78: Hey, that’s great
news! When will you know for sure?
frauleinkirche: Within the next
couple of months.
prideofaslan78: Maybe you’ll get
to spoil those kids yet.
frauleinkirche: I still haven’t
MET them yet. They were both born there
in
prideofaslan78: Good point.
prideofaslan78: Maybe one of the
next times we talk, we’ll have to try a voice and video chat.
frauleinkirche: Voice
maybe. My only camera uses regular film,
so the other won’t work.
prideofaslan78: Christmas is
coming soon, you know.
frauleinkirche: Don’t even think
of it.
prideofaslan78: Too late.
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Since mission work is such a big part of my heroine Kate's life, I am also going to put up a link to the web site for my Haiti 2001 Mission Trip.