Candace

 "Why can't she hear what I am thinking!"  Surely, it must be loud enough to hear since inside my head the intensity reaches 50 decibels at least.  She must have seen the message in my eyes shout itself directly into her deep brown eyes just minutes earlier when she first walked through the gate. I knew she lived very closeby and had hoped to see her so many times.  Now that she was here with me I was panic stricken.   I directed my gaze at the water in the empty swimming pool and tried to slow my breathing.  She didn't know all the conversations we had in my head since we first met weeks ago at the Freshman volleyball team try-outs.  She could not guess at the depth of the admiration that filled my every waking hour as I was careful with what I said in the hand written notes that I dropped in her locker.  I had never reacted this way to anyone before. I was not sure what it was but I suspected it was not to be discussed with anyone. I could not have explained it in any words I knew. I wanted to be near her, to memorize her face, touch her hair, to look at her eyes for days at a time.  Who would understand that? 

 

I spent alot of time in my room at home, writing notes to her, thinking of her, practicing what to say to her, wanting to call her, and finally calling her each night.  We talked for hours about who knows what.  It was always easier talking to her over the phone than it was in person.  On the phone it was just the two of us.  I did not have to be cooler or wittier or more popular than anyone else in order to get her attention. It was a little disorienting that our phone relationship was warm, caring and close while our face to face relationship had not yet progressed to that point. 

 

I think she tried to bridge the gap a couple of times but my abject fear and shyness paralyzed me.  She touched my hand once; my panic was probably palpable, and then my chin another time to examine my new set of stitches from falling on the tennis court.  My reaction to her touch was at odds with the thoughts and feelings I had revealed in my notes and phone conversations. 

 

I think the only time the two successfully integrated was when I tried to watch her play in a softball game.  I caught one quick glance at her on the pitcher's mound winding up for a throw and my body was struck by lightening  A blindingly bright light filled my head as my lungs seized up mid breath. My feet no longer felt the ground under them.  A command bellowed from within me "Run!"  I don't know if she even saw me stop by the game since my stay was so short.  She may have noticed a sprinting blurr pass the softball fields and head down into the dry riverbed.  I was not thinking about rattlesnakes when I ran since they would have to react very quickly to strike as I ran. All that I could think about was the huge question mark in my head.  "What was that all about?  Somebody explain that I am feeling!"  I could ask no one. 

 

I hinted only once to Paul, my good friend for stimulating intellectual conversation.  We once concocted a new religion together.  "Self-ism" hypothesized that a person could literally move a mountain through a combination of mental concentration and a large shift in perception. I asked Paul, "What would you do if you found someone so totally wise and charismatic that all you could do is think about them?"  He said "I would follow them."  He discussed that surely someone so wise and compelling must be learned from and mirrored in every way possible, like a new messiah.  This fit since most of our talks were about religion.  I took it as a nod of approval for my growing adoration for her. 

 

I could not get enough of her attention.  I passed by her classroom door at school, once drawing the ire of her English teacher who scolded me in the hallway.  I ran quickly to my classes so I would have just enough time to casually pass by her locker in case she was there and found my latest note.  I drew her pictures and made her a clay initial for her name, Candy.  Her name was like a song in my head.  Candy. Candace.  So fitting for a tomboy with a smile that really did seem to light up the room.  Her personality filled the gym as she guided us through various volleyball drills.  I tried so hard to master each drill but there was so much noise in my head I would intermittently fumble.