Day Fifteen: James Gets a Girlfriend

James Gets a Girlfriend

Teenage dating is one of the greatest mysteries that this world has yet to solve. It is a period that I look back on and wonder what was going through our little heads. I understand my parent’s reaction now when I told them I was going on a double date with Joseph, Zooey, and Jojo. The scene went like this:
            It was just before dinner and I was working on some of my homework in the living room. My parents were in the kitchen cooking dinner together as they usually did, listening to what they called “their jams,” and I sat alone watching television. The way our household had functioned changed dramatically when my two sisters went off to college. There wasn’t nearly as much drama or late night crying as there had been before when they both had boyfriend troubles…at the same exact time. Overall, the household was much happier, more carefree, and goofy. Not to bag on my older siblings, but my parents knew they didn’t need to worry about me. I wasn’t the one who went “gaga” over girls…at least not until my freshmen year that is.
            Once dinner was finished, we all sat down at the table and proceeded to do the one thing that we Castle’s know how to do best…eat. I was looking for the best time to put the topic on the table, but I never did. Mom and Dad went back and forth about what was happening at work, then to what was good on TV, and about the weather. None of those topics were really ideal to squeeze in the whole “dating” thing, so I continued to wait. And wait. And wait. Finally I couldn’t wait any longer. In between talking about the new episode of Glee and my father’s use of vacation time, I blurted out, “JOSEPH ASKED ME TO GO ON A DATE WITH HIM ON FRIDAY AND I SAID YES!”
            Both of my parents looked at me, completely stunned and shell shocked.
            “Excuse me,” said my father.
            “Oh Honey, it’s okay. Don’t mind us. We’re just a little surprised is all,” interrupted my mother. “We knew you and Joseph were close friends, but we didn’t know you were that close of friends. I guess we should have seen that one coming…”
            “I guess so. I mean, you never were that great at sports or anything. But it’s okay son. We stand by you one-hundred percent. We love you no matter what,” followed my father.
            My parents’ ability to believe that I was gay was seriously disheartening. Not that there was anything wrong with being gay. I totally respected my gay friends at school and all and loved them no matter what, but the thing is…I WASN’T GAY. It’s like someone saying I was good at playing football and could totally see it. It’s not that I was offended, it just wasn’t the truth.
            “What?! No, guys, I didn’t mean it like that,” I said. “I meant that Joseph asked me to go on a double date with him and I said yes. We’re going with two of our friends…who are girls…they’re our dates…”
            “OOH!” said my parents in unison.
            “Well, alright then. Uh, this is a little awkward now isn’t it?” laughed my father.
            “Don’t worry about it guys,” I smiled at them. “I just wanted to know if it’s okay to go this Friday.”
            They looked at each other, having a conversation with their eyes. I still find it amazing when people have been together long enough to be able to have a complete conversation without saying a word. All they have to do is look at the other a certain way, making subtle expressions to say this or that. It’s a beautiful thing.
            After they talked with one another, with their eyes, they turned to me. My mother was the first one to speak up.
            “You’re father and I do believe that you are responsible enough to take this next step. But we feel, since you are becoming more aware of girls and their attractiveness, that we should have a talk with you…”
            “That’s right,” followed my father. “We want to make sure you know what you’re getting into by actually starting to date girls. We realize that you’re changing, both physically and…sexually.”
            Oh no, I thought. Please don’t let this be the talk. Please don’t let this be where the birds and the bees come out in full force. Please be anything than that I thought.
            “Son,” my father said. “Have you heard about the birds and the bees…”
            “NO!” I yelled. “Please don’t go into this. I understand all of that. I know how it works. I know everything. Just please don’t try to explain it to me.” It was the most embarrassing thing, seeing your parents try to describe sex to you when you already knew what it was. They struggled with trying to find the right words, but in reality, there are no right words. Sex is sex. Might as well tell it like it is and move on.
            “Alright, alright, well then, I guess kids these days are more advanced than we were at that age, huh Carol?” That was a lie, but I let it slide.
            “I guess so,” replied Mom. She looked at me with that look that mothers get when they realize their baby is growing up. They’d both gone through this before with my sisters, but for some reason this whole experience was different with me. It was different because I was the lone son and the last one of the litter. After I grew up, there were no more kids for them. No more babies to take care of or look after. This single event of me starting to like/go out with girls meant the beginning of the end for them. And that’s a big thing for parents.
            Mom smiled, holding back tears, “We couldn’t keep you trapped in here forever, now could we James? Yes, you can go on your little date on Friday. Do you need me to drive you or anyone else?”
            And that was that. It was official. Any barrier that had been there before was gone. I was going to go on my first date with a girl. And to be honest, I was scared shitless.

            On Friday night, Mom took Joseph and I to the movie theater and dropped us off in the front. She waved goodbye for a good minute or so and only left when the cars behind her began to honk and yell for her to get out of the way.
            We made our way to the box office to buy our tickets, nervously anticipating the night that lay before us. After buying our tickets, we stood shoulder to shoulder in front of the theater, our eyes darting left to right for any sign of either girl.
            “They’re late,” said Joseph, shaking from head to toe.
            “Uh,” I checked my watch. It was 6:45 PM and the movie didn’t start until 7:50 PM. “I don’t think they’re late Joe.”
            “THEY’RE LATE! She said she’d be here at 7:00 PM!”
            “Joseph! Calm down! It’s only 6:45 PM!”
            He glared at me, and then looked at his phone. Joseph let out a sigh of relief and calmed down, but only a bit. The next fifteen minutes passed only through monotonous conversation between Joseph and I. We were both nervous, this being our first date and all. Finally, at 7:00 PM, the girls arrived together, and I must say that for the first time in my life, I understood what it felt like to have butterflies flying throughout my stomach.
            Zooey ran up to Joseph and threw her arms around him, hugging him tight. She looked very pretty. Her long, brown hair fell gently on her shoulders in loose curls. She looked pretty, but there was no way she compared to the girl that was walking toward me.
            Joseph told me that it was Jojo who was coming with Zooey, but this girl was different. Each step she took toward me held a certain confidence in it. She walked with purpose and I couldn’t help but admire how incredibly beautiful she looked. Her black hair was still cut like a pixie, but all of her features were also distinguished. Her eyes were a warm, caramel color and her long eyelashes fluttered slowly, drawing me closer into her. She wore a gray sweater dress, held together with a belt and tight skinny jeans which showed off her amazing hips and legs. Jojo looked absolutely stunning. At that moment, there was no girl who could compete with her.
            It was apparent that I was staring when she was blushing and laughing as she tried to get my attention.
            “James? Are you okay?” she asked. She smirked and shook me by my shoulders with her small hands.
            “Uh, yeah! Hi, uh, Jojo. You look, uh, amazing?” I had lost total control of all of my motor and communication skills.
            She giggled and I had never wanted to be lost in a giggle before in my life. I could hear that giggle all day, every day.
            “Is that a question or is it a statement?” replied Jojo. She hadn’t stopped smiling. I needed to get control of myself or else I would lose this girl completely.
            “It’s a statement,” I answered, smiling back at her. “You look beautiful.”
            “Why thank you James, you look pretty sharp yourself.” Her voice was full of excitement, nervousness, and seduction all at the same time.
            “Are we going to go see this movie or what?” spoke up Zooey from our side. She was curled into Joseph and smirking at the two of us.
            “Yes! Let’s get this show on the road,” answered Jojo. She looked toward me and smiled, “You ready, sport?”
            Oh I was ready.

            The movie was decent, but what happened during the movie was entertainment enough for Jojo and I. We sat together and whispered things we didn’t know about each other. We also had fun throwing popcorn at Zooey and Joseph as the two of them made-out in front of us. That was our main entertainment. I could already tell that her and I were making a good team.
            After the movie, Zooey and Joseph went off together, Joseph looking back and giving me a wink before they disappeared. Jojo and I were left alone. We walked together, talking more and more about everything from our favorite books to favorite music. It was incredible how much she knew about music. The thing that amazed me the most, however, was the way that she talked. She talked as if everything excited her. I could feel the passion she felt about everything that she was saying. All it did was make me want her to talk more.
            We walked across the street from the movie theater to a small park, and made our way to a spot that overlooked the parks manmade lake. She rushed up to the edge and looked out over it, staring at the reflection of the full moon that lit the entire park.
            “Isn’t it just beautiful,” she said. “It’s amazing. How the universe can just make up something so perfect. It’s like music, you know? You have your words, your melody, and then an arrangement of instruments. When they’re separated, they’re just a bunch of words, some tones, and noise. But when you put them all together, when the words compliment the melody and the instruments make this beautiful layer, that’s when the magic happens. That’s what this is.” She pointed out toward the lake and the moon and the park. “All of this put together James. It’s here for a reason. All of it put together…it’s magic.”
            What happened next happened rather fast. But I was never so in control of my motions as I was at that moment. I took Jojo’s hand in mine and turned her towards me. I looked into those warm, caramel eyes and picked her chin up with my hand. The next thing I knew my lips were touching her lips. Everything put together at that moment; the lake, the moon, her hand in mine, our eyes closed, our lips touching, my hand under her chin, it all came together…and it was magic.
            Our lips finally parted, and we both did nothing but smile as our foreheads touched. I held onto her hand, her fingers interlaced in mine. I was the first one to speak.
            “Jojo,” I whispered. “I was wondering…would you like to be my girlfriend?”
            She smirked, and even in the dark of the park, I could see her cheeks were crimson.
            “I thought you’d never ask, sport.” She kissed me again and I wrapped my arms tightly around her.
            As my arms were wrapped tight around Jojo, something in the back of my mind was calling me. A faint echo was all I could hear. The words, “Do you need help?” rang softly through my head, but for some reason the voice saying them no longer meant anything to me. Before I knew it, the voice was gone, and all I could hear was the sound of Jojo’s breathing as we continued to kiss in the dark of the park.

Day Fourteen: James Has A Crush

James Has A Crush

I wouldn’t say that I became obsessed with Mollie Parker after that first day at the Academy, but on the same note, she didn’t become just another face in the crowd for me. On the contrary, Mollie Parker’s face became imbedded in the fabric of my mind, a shining light piercing through a sea of darkness. Now, you may think that is slightly melodramatic and that, for a seventh grader, I didn’t know what I was feeling, but I knew. I knew like you know something bad is going to happen before it actually happens. Mollie Parker was going to be a big part of my life…whether it was in a good or bad way, I didn’t know.
            The years passed quickly after that, and before I knew it, I was in high school. There wasn’t much of a difference between middle school and high school, mostly because both were in the same building. Due to the Academy’s low student population, the school was able to house both in one building, making it a much easier transition than what would happen in the public sector. Most people, I assume, would have been disappointed at the lack of change happening, but I’ve never been one of those people. I was content with stasis.
            If there was one thing that I noticed began to change, however, it was the interactions between boys and girls. Nobody seemed to change too much between eighth grade and freshmen year, but it was like a switch had been flicked. Before I knew it, this boy was going out with that girl, or that girl was trying to hook up with this boy. It was absolute insanity, and I didn’t understand it. It hit me the hardest one day when my best friend, Joseph Owens, and I were sitting in our usual spot under the tall oak tree next to the Academy, writing our lunch away.
            “I think I’m finally going to ask Zooey out,” said Joseph. He said it nonchalantly, as if he had practiced saying these words time and time again in front of a mirror.
            “Um, okay? Since when did we start to like girls this much?” I responded, dropping my pen into my notebook and looking at him in bewilderment.
            “Oh come on,” Joseph replied. “You know how long I’ve had the biggest crush on Zooey.”
            “Yeah, since you were, like, in kindergarten?”
            “Exactly,” said Joseph, returning his attention to whatever he was working on in his notebook. “And she’s felt the same way. She told me. We’ve known this for a while now. I just think it’s the only right thing to do now.”
            I looked at him, a puzzled expression creeping across my face. Like I said before, I had never thought about us changing from what we were. Sure I understood that girls and boys had always had crushes on each other, but to get to the point of actually going out with one another, to be considered boyfriend and girlfriend, I didn’t know what to say to that. I had always thought this point would come much later in our lives, but here Joseph was telling me that this was the next logical step for a freshmen boy who had a crush on a girl; that it was the only right thing to do.
            “Hm, I guess you’re right,” I looked down at my notebook at what I was writing. “I just never thought about it, I guess.” I guessed a lot at fourteen.
            “You should start,” replied Joseph. “Because I already know one girl that would love to go out with you. She has the biggest crush on me. She’s a friend of Zooey’s.”
            And the first person to pop into my head was Mollie. That had to be who Joseph was talking about. Zooey and Mollie were best friends, and there was no denying that she and I had always had a special connection. This was the special part in my life Mollie was going to play…she was going to be my first girlfriend. Everything that had led up to this moment, all the memories of her and I together, it all pointed to this. She was going to be my first girlfriend and we were going to get married one day and it would be the best story to tell our future children. All of this passed through my head in a matter of seconds and completely made me deaf to what Joseph was telling me.
            “James? Hello? Earth to James…did you hear what I said?” I woke up from the Mollie Marriage Montage that was playing through my head and tuned into what he was saying.
            “Uh, yeah I did. It’s Mollie, right?”
            “What? Mollie? No, Jojo, man. Jojo has the biggest crush on you. She’s been talking about it with Zooey nonstop. Apparently you’re the only thing she talks to Zooey about these days.” Joseph looked up and gave me a wink. “You’re a little stud James Castle. She’s cute too, man. There is no denying that. Nothing next to my Zooey, but I’m slightly biased.”
            I laughed, and shook off his comment. “I don’t think so man. I don’t know if I’m ready for all of that stuff yet.” I lied.
            “Come on! Zooey and I are going to the movies this weekend and she’s bringing Jojo. I kind of already told her that you would come too so that it would be a sort of double date.”
            I didn’t think that something like that could actually be a “sort of” thing. Either it was a double date or not. There was no “sort of” about it. This was a double date, but the “sort of” was meant to disguise it. It did a terrible job of it too.
            He waited for a response. I could see the anticipation in his body language and in his eyes. “Please James, please, please, please. This is the night I’m going to ask Zooey to finally be my girlfriend. It would mean so much to me if you were there to experience it with me, man.”
            I thought it over and looked at the anxiousness in his eyes. He really wanted this. Joseph was never the one to look desperate, but he was showing some major vulnerability. This was big to him and I couldn’t help but sympathize with him. I once wanted a first edition “This Side of Paradise” that bad and I remembered the pain I suffered when I didn’t get it.
            “Fine, alright, I’ll go,” I sighed. “But only because you’re my best friend and my brother from another mother.”
            Joseph threw his notebook to the side and slapped me on the back. “Two things; 1) I love you so much right now, you have no idea. And 2) never EVER use that expression again, okay?”
            I smiled. “Okay, sounds like a deal.” We went back to our respective writings for the rest of lunch. As I wrote, my thoughts returned to the crush and my high hopes of it being Mollie Parker.
            So Jojo was the girl who had a crush on me? It wasn’t Mollie? Disappointment was flowing through my veins as I looked out to three girls who sat in a triangle in front of the Academy. Jojo was very cute, with her short, black pixie hair and her petite, but oh so curvy body…but she wasn’t Mollie. Mollie who had this gravity about her that enticed me and pulled me towards her more than any other girl. If this was indeed the year I was to take the leap that all the other boys were, I wanted it to be with her, not Jojo.
            But as I surveyed Jojo more and thought about how I may never have this chance to go out with a girl again in my life, the decision became easier and easier to make. Jojo was gorgeous and she had a crush on me; James Castle who wore horn, rimmed glasses, had the muscle tone of an eel, absolutely zero coordination, and zero experience talking to girls. Of all the boys in all the school, I was the least likely boy to get the chance to date a girl ever again. So, in the end, Jojo was beginning to look like a much better candidate for my first girlfriend.

Day Thirteen: Zooey.

ZOOEY.

          It’s been so long since I’ve seen Joseph, or even heard from him. I can’t imagine that I still creep into his mind every now and then. We were high school sweethearts, you see. Looking back on it all, so much has happened since then; since high school, since the Van Gogh Art Academy. That was when he and I were inseparable. I remember Mollie always telling me, “You watch Zooey, he’s going to be the Yoko to our Beatles. He’s going to take you away from us and we’ll never be the same again.” And for a time she was right.
          During high school, my whole life was centered on Joseph. He became everything to me; my morning, my afternoon, and my knight. Slowly, but surely, I did see less and less of Mollie and Jojo, but they understood. They knew that he made me happy and that was all that mattered. But then there came a point where I kept on giving myself to him, and he had stopped. This guard was put up and he wouldn’t let me in anymore. It was like things had changed entirely for him and he no longer wanted all the things that we had talked about. All of a sudden he wanted to be alone, to be unattached from everyone and everything. I never thought that I would be part of those “ones” or “things.”
          But life has changed a lot for me since then. Graduating from college will definitely do that for you, and I realize now that although he was such a big part of my life, he doesn’t need to be the only part of my life. I’ve moved on, and I’m doing well for myself, all on my own. I guess it’s like he told me once, “There’s more in life to think about than ideas of love Zooey. Before you do anything, before you can love anybody, love yourself and nobody else.” I took that to heart, and I’m doing that now.
          I live in San Francisco, managing local bands here and there. My degree is in business and my minor is in music. I always knew that I wanted to work in the music business, so I majored and minored in the two things that would help me get there. To say that my life is stressful would be an understatement. My schedule is this:
          5:30 AM – Wake up and go to the gym.
          6:45 AM – Come back from the gym, shower, get ready, and eat breakfast.
          7:30 AM – Take the M from the apartment to the Embarcadero.
           8:00AM – Meet with the boss of the company, pick up assignments (aka info on new
          bands).
          10:00 AM – Take the M back to West Portal, and meet with Charlie at the Music Store
          to give him demos of bands I already manage.
          12:00 PM – 5:00 PM – Meet with the bands.
          7:00 PM – 11:00 PM – Watch bands at Warfield, Slims, Bottom of the Hill, Fillmore, etc.
          Try to sign one.
          12:00 AM – Take the M back to West Portal and back to the apartment, have dinner,
          finish paper work on bands.
          2:00 AM – Fall asleep.
          Repeat.
          Somewhere in that whole mess of a schedule I find the time to still whip out the guitar every now and then. But it’s very rare. I mostly play the piano these days. I miss playing music so much. Sometimes I wonder if going into the business side of this whole thing was worth it, or if I should have take the road Mollie did.
          I still talk to Mollie at least twice a day on the phone and text her whenever I get the chance. It’s a little hard for her since she’s touring a lot these days. Part of me is so envious of her, that she saw what she wanted and went after it. She’s living our dream. Writing music and playing for her adoring fans. I’m proud of her. So very proud.
          Now don’t get me wrong. I love what I do. I love taking unknown names and trying to make them into big names. It gives me a certain sense of satisfaction when one does get past all of the bullcrap that surrounds the music industry and is able to answer their calling. It’s truly a beautiful thing to witness…but sometimes I wish that I was the one making it big, the one playing for my adoring fans.
Oh well, I guess you can’t live too much in the past, can’t live in your regrets. I chose my path and I’m doing it. There’s accomplishment in that. I wonder what Joseph would say if he could see me now…
          I wonder if he’s seeing anyone right now.
          I wonder if he’s married.
          I bet he’s married. He really is a catch. I mean, any girl would be crazy not to try to snag him as quick as possible. He’s the most charming man that I’ve ever known. He’d make such a good husband to some lucky girl. Whoever he’s married to right now is the luckiest girl in the world…
          One day I hope that all the dreams I had when I was a little girl will come true. The dreams that Zooey, Jojo, and I would talk about when we would sit on the front lawn of the Academy, in our little triangle.
          One day I wish that I will be writing songs and playing them for adoring fans.
          One day I wish that I will be married and happy with my husband and our children.
          One day I wish that I will be married…
          One day I wish that I will be married…to Joseph.
          Oh I do, I do, I do believe in yesterday.
          Oh how I long, I long, I long, for yesterday.

Day Twelve: Joseph.

JOSEPH.

I

thought she’d

wait for me. But I guess not.

It’s my fault for pushing her away.

I should have let her stay. She was ready

to love me and only me, but I wouldn’t

let her in. I wouldn’t let her speak or feel what she

wanted. Instead I told her to let me go. And so she did.

She let me go. I didn’t know how much I wanted her to

say no. To say “I don’t care what you say, this is how I feel today,

and yesterday, and tomorrow. This feeling I feel is here to stay.

All I want is you. And all you want is me. Admit the truth, forget the rest.”

Merry Christmas. You got your wish. She let you go. It’s all for the

best. Maybe we’ll have a future. Maybe not. Maybe someday we’ll tie the knot.

I wish I could tell

you how much I

want to love you.

But the end is the

end. Goodbye

My Dearest Zooey.



Day Eleven: The Music of People

The Music of People

It’s funny how the air in December gives to its nights a certain romantic quality. A foggy veil falls quietly upon the Earth, cloaking the unexpected memories that are anticipating the moment where they will reveal themselves. While the natural light of the moon is hidden from view, the glow of the streetlamps and traffic lights bask in their dominance over nature, lighting and guiding the way for young, star crossed lovers to lose themselves in each other. It is where the naivety of youth and the maturity of the world intertwine and, even for the slightest of moments, produce a symphony of silent beauty.
            The orchestration of lights sang softly and played for an audience of two; two silhouettes that swayed close together in the cold of the night, the icy wind wrapping itself around them, consequently drawing them closer to one another. They sat alone on a park bench, hand in hand. There wasn’t a soul that could be seen or heard elsewhere in the park. They were completely alone, which was what they wanted. More than anything, they wanted to be alone. To share this scene with anyone else, the way her hand curved into his, the way his side was carved perfectly for her to rest against, the way their eyes glistened as they reflected the others, the way the wind made the small lake ahead of them ripple and break the silence of their thoughts, the way they complemented the other without saying a word, to share that with anyone else would ruin the sacredness of it all.
            The girl, Zooey, wore a pink scarf around her neck that the boy, Joseph, played with and brushed against her face as she smiled up at him.
            “Oh, Joseph, none of this could be any more perfect than it is right now at this moment,” said Zooey as she rubbed her thumb against his smooth hand. How she often would think of his smooth skin when she was alone, and the way it made her fingers feel as she would trace the outline of his hand.
            “I couldn’t agree with you more Zooey,” said Joseph, gently kissing the top of her head as he looked out at the lake. There was nothing to see in that lake to any other person, but to Joseph, he could see everything. None of it had anything whatsoever to do with the lake, but rather with the person at his side. Like the lake that spread out in front of them, there was more to Zooey than her surface and he had seen it. It’s what kept him looking. He had seen beauty in its purest form. And once something so beautiful has entered your life, you are forever changed. You can never go back to the time before you saw it. It becomes a part of you. Zooey had become that for Joseph, and he realized that as he looked out at the lake.
            “I remember we would always talk about this, Joe,” said Zooey, looking down at their hands clasped together. “How perfect our hands fit together. We would say that no one else’s hand could fit like each others. That there was no one else for us in the whole wide world but each other…”She let her words hang in the air, drifting slowly, and landing between them. She buried her face into his arm and held onto it.
            “Does his hand fit as well as mine, Zooey?” asked Joseph. He added a laugh at the end to seem like he was joking, but he genuinely wanted to know. The thought of another man holding her hand left a pain in his gut every time the thought would enter his mind.
            Zooey looked up at him and gave him a glare. She didn’t want to talk about him, not right now. She didn’t want to bring up where she was in her real life, but rather, she wanted to focus on where she was in the present. She wanted to focus on the fact that the one man who knew her inside and out, who she felt the safest with, who she felt she could spend the rest of her life with was right here with her again. She didn’t want to give up this moment of pure bliss by bringing up her boyfriend.
            “Drop it Joseph. You know how that is,” she whispered.
            “Yeah,” said Joseph, a tinge of sadness in his voice. “But it doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
            “Enough! Don’t ruin this.” She looked up at him, her eyes pleading with him to understand her situation. She was happy with her new boyfriend, but there was no denying that there was something missing; a something that only the boy next to her contained.
            “I’m sorry,” he said and kissed her head again, embracing the feel of her hair on his lips. “I just miss you. That’s all. More than I probably should.”
            “I do too, you know?” She stretched her legs out onto the bench and rest her head on his lap. “I miss you more than I can bare sometimes. Sometimes I want to just pick up the phone and call you and hear your voice, or text you, or ask you to drive over so that I can see you. But it’s just not that simple anymore.”
            “It can be,” said Joseph.
            “No, it can’t. I’m with him. He’s my boyfriend. And if he knew I was doing all of this with you, let alone talking to you at all, I would never hear the end of it. Is that what you want?”
            Joseph looked down at her, with a sorrow deep down that he couldn’t bear. Either way, he wouldn’t have what he wanted. “No, no it’s not what I want at all. I understand.”
            The night around them moved on, as it tends to do. Time does not wait for us to have our precious moments in life. It will not slow down so that we can savor every joyous occasion. It will push on, whether we are ready to move on or not.
            “Thank you for the scarf, Joseph, it’s beautiful,” said Zooey. She truly did love the scarf that he had given her. Partly because it really was a beautiful pink scarf, but mostly because it was his Christmas present to her. She had always loved his Christmas presents to her just because they were from him.
            “You’re welcome Zooey,” replied Joseph.
            Zooey lifted her head from his lap and stood up in front of Joseph.
            “Well I better be going, Steven will be waiting for me at my house when he gets off of work.”
            Joseph stood up and took her hands in his. He looked into her eyes…and immediately he was taken back. That same spot, six years prior to this night, he and Zooey, at thirteen years old, exchanging their first Christmas presents to one another. He remembered everything. The way her hair was pulled back, the way her red sweater clung to her, the way the sun was shining that day, the way he knew that this spot would become special for them, the way that this moment belonged to them only. If only he could go back to that December, he thought, if only he could relive every moment again. Would he? Would he really go through everything he went through, knowing what he knew now?
            Zooey broke his stare and looked down at the ground.
            “Well Joseph, I’m glad we did this. It really was a beautiful night.”
            “I couldn’t agree with you more Zooey,” said Joseph. He lifted her chin was his index finger and thumb. Tears were slowly streaming down her face.
            “I guess this is it…goodbye Joe. Until…well…whenever I can talk to you again.” She began to turn away to leave, but then Joseph grasped her hand tightly in his and pulled her back into him. He held onto her as tight as he could. Then he whispered into her ear.
            “I love you…what we had…it was real.”
            He pressed his lips to hers, and they kissed.
            Intoxication, true intoxication, has a name…and it is love. Joseph and Zooey felt the pure intoxication in the December air. Perhaps it was just the romanticism in the air. Perhaps it was all in the setting, mingling with the feelings they thought they felt. But perhaps it was real. Perhaps what they had was more real than the air, more real than the haze of the fog or the dew on the grass. Perhaps what Zooey and Joseph had was the most real connection that one human being can have with another. And isn’t that all we search for in life? To have a connection. To feel like we aren’t alone in what we experience.  To feel like, in all the shuffling ins and shuffling outs of daily life, there is one person that will keep your feet on the ground.
            Love is often described as being swept off your feet, but who really wants that? You’re swept off your feet, and as gravity would have it, you are bound to fall. No, real love, not the love that is explained in movies or songs on the radio, keeps you grounded, while making you feel like you are flying through the air. It is wanting to do everything, and not being afraid of failure.
            That connection is what makes us feel like we are not alone and never will be.
            Zooey and Joseph held each other, swaying to music all their own.
            And as they parted ways with one another that night, they took with them their memories of each other. They walked in two different directions, but their connection was never stronger than it was at that moment. What the future would hold for them was uncertain. But what was certain was that they had love.
            They came together, two people, and complimented one another without saying a word. It was a harmony, two notes coming together to produce a wonderful sound. That is what Zooey and Joseph had managed to accomplish.
            These two very different people had intertwined…and conducted a symphony of silent, but pure, beauty.

(Authors Note: I know that this was posted a day late, but most of it was because i did not have internet access in order to post this until just now.)

Day Ten: Zooey.Joseph.

zooey.joseph.


please dont go anywhere.I'm Not.if you did, id be lost.Don't Say That.its the truth, you keep me grounded.That's Nothing But Gravity.you help me keep my sanity.I'm Not Responsible.but youre all ive ever dreamed about.The Idea's All You've Ever Dreamed About.youre all i ever think about.There's More In Life To Think About.please let down your guard.On One Condition.anything you say, i will do.I Hope What You Say Is True.ill do anything. i love you.Words Get Tossed Around Like Love.
what is it you ask of myself?Love Yourself...And Nobody Else.

Day Nine: Mollie's Song

(found written on a piece of torn out notebook paper in Mrs. Denise Lawson's classroom by a janitor)

im not sure what to call this song it just kinda came to me the words at least maybe i'll right some music to it later with Lenny but for now i just have to get down these words because they are really bugging me and trust me this isnt the best song ive ever written its really cheesy and all but when its Christmas time you're allowed to be at least a little bit cheesy right? oh man that was one crazy run on sentence, maybe i should just shuddup now and right out the song before i forget. okay here goes

stay here my dear
its cold outside now
no need to fear
i'll stay with you here
dim the lights low
i'll bring us a blanket
watching the snow
time will move slow
and your head on my chest
and my heart on my sleeve
beggin you please dont leave
we may grow old
but i'll love you the same
here by the flame,
i'll whisper your name
lets make this last forever
whenever you fall
i'll be there to catch you
and love you thats all
the trees all lit up
its shining different colors
but not as bright as
the shade of your eyes
your heart is beating
faster than a racer's
outside its freezing
but we're warm inside
and your head on my chest
and my heart on my sleeve
beggin you please dont leave
we may grow old
but i'll love you the same
here by the flame,
i'll whisper your name
lets make this last forever
whenever you fall
i'll be there to catch you
and love you thats all
sleep my love i know your tired
i'll be here when you wake
never leave your side
never let you down
forever and ever,
i will stick around
there's nothing i want
there's nothing i need
all that i need
is right here with me.
and your head on my chest
and my heart on my sleeve
beggin you please dont leave
we may grow old
but i'll love you the same
here by the flame,
i'll whisper your name
lets make this last forever
whenever you fall
i'll be there to catch you
and love you thats all.

stupid james

Day Eight: James' Sonnet

(taken from the desk of Mrs. Jane E. Bower)

Winter’s Potentiality
by James Castle

With weariness doth my brow shake and stir
As a once lived summer comes into mind.
Think not of what was. Twas for the better
To let go than to hold what wasn’t mine.
What does deem propriety? I know not
The virtues of long since forgotten men.
Within me, without me, it will all rot,
This egocentricity I pretend.
Oh, how I do believe, as the winter
Dawns, there will be a place for you and me.
As the sun rises, and sets in splinters,
Know my love shall last an eternity.
            Although I must forget what used to be,
            I hold onto our possibilities.

Day Seven: Sherlock Dork

Sherlock Dork

            “So Dad, has Mollie told you about her new boyfriend?”
            “SAM! He is NOT my boyfriend!”
            Not only was James Castle not my boyfriend, he wasn’t even a friend of mine. My brother Sam begged to differ…on multiple occasions. The second I told him about what James had done for me, he couldn’t wait to go all blabber mouth about it to our dad. Not that my dad cared all that much about me having a boyfriend, but I knew he would get all mushy and tease me till the end of my days. Sometimes, at that age, I wished my dad would be like any normal protective father and respond with a, “MOLLIE ELIZABETH PARKER! I FORBID YOU TO EVER LEAVE THIS HOUSE AGAIN! WHERE DOES THIS BOY LIVE? I’M GOING TO KILL HIM!” But no, I was the one girl in human existence whose father responded like this:
            “Aw! Sweetheart, that’s fantastic! What’s his name? Is he cute or whatever? Have you gone on a date yet?”
            I stared at my dad in disbelief. What type of father of a young, middle school girl responds like that?!?!
            “Daddy, isn’t this the part where you’re supposed to ground me or tell me that boys are devils just out to steal my soul or something?” I asked.
            “Oh hush,” he said, rubbing the top of my head with his tough, callused hand. He grabbed a few more homemade ornaments out of a cardboard box on the floor labeled “XMAS DECORATIONS” and began placing them on the tree. “Now tell me,” he said, curiosity filling his voice. “Who is this boy Sam seems so dead set on convincing us is your boyfriend?”
            I picked up a few ornaments and carefully began filling the empty spaces in the Christmas tree. “His name’s James Castle. He just transferred to the Academy.”
            He leaned in closer, waiting for something else. I ignored his gaze, keeping my focus on putting a candy cane here and a snowman there.
            “Aaaaand…” prodded Dad.
            “Aaaaand nothing!” I shouted. “That’s it. The end. Fine. Fin.”
            “Did you tell Dad what he did for you?” interrupted Sam as he came from the kitchen with a plate of sugar cookies and a glass of milk. Oh how I wanted to shove one of those cookies in his mouth. Anything to make him shut up.
            “I did not Sam, but thank you oh so very much for reminding me,” I said, over emphasizing my obvious sarcasm.
            “Oh! He did something for you?”
            Dad was way too excited to release me into the pack of wolves that were boys. You would have thought that he was getting a cow from this whole business.
            “Did he sweep you off your feet, Honey? Did he perform some grand gesture to show you how much he loves you? Is he romaaaaantic?”
            “HE’S A DORK!” I exploded at the top of my lungs. “HE’S THE NERDIEST BOY I’VE EVER MET!”
            Sam burst into a fit of laughter, sugar cookie bits flying out of his mouth in all different directions.
            “This…is…t-t-too…f-f-funny! Mol has a n-n-nerd for a stalker!” Sam could barely breathe, let alone talk.
            “Aw, Mollie, I’m sure he isn’t that bad,” said Dad. “What could he possibly have done?”
            “You don’t wanna know, Daddy.” My cheeks were crimson. I just wanted to be locked way in my room forever. God help me if I ever had to face James Castle again…
            “Actually I would love to hear it.” He sat me down on the couch. “Tell me.”
            And so I did…

.                      .                      .

It was two weeks after James’ first day at the Academy and he seemed to be fitting in fairly well. After our first encounter with each other, we didn’t interact much. He had found a couple of other Writers to stick with, while I clung to my small group of Musicians. Even though we stood apart from one another, there were moments where I would catch him stealing glances in my direction. For some reason he seemed drawn to me. In a way it really creeped me out, but I couldn’t help but notice that he had a certain cuteness about him that none of the other boys at the Academy had. His short, black hair was always messed up, like he had just woken up and his glasses gave him a look that said, “I am one smartass kid, don’t mess with me.”
            His somewhat cuteness aside, there was no doubt that James and I had a certain connection that I didn’t understand. Wherever my group and I went, I would see him slightly off in the distance, his trusty little black composition notebook at his side, scribbling Lord knows what into it.
            The day that the incident took place was like any other day. It was lunchtime and I was sitting outside on the front lawn with my best friends Zooey, Jojo, and Lenny. Only two of the three listed were humans; the third, Lenny, being my most cherished possession, my acoustic guitar. I took it everywhere I went. Its sunburst body and dark cherry wood neck often made me swoon. I had wished for the longest time that Lenny would turn into a boy and we would run off together and play music forever…it never happened.
            Zooey, Jojo, and I sat in a triangle on the grass as the sun shined unusually bright for mid-December above us.
            “Personally I think Jim Morrison was one of the hottest men to ever walk the face of the Earth,” said Zooey nonchalantly as she stretched her long legs out in front of her.
            “No way,” I retaliated. “That title belongs to John Lennon. Hands down. That man was beautiful.”
            “Oh whatever Mollie, you only say that because you’re a Beatles freak,” said Jojo as she picked at the grass that lay in the middle of us.
            “Correction, Jojo, I am a John Lennon freak. I love all things John Lennon, and yes, consequently that is the Beatles as well!”
            “Did you know that John Lennon started out by writing poems when he was a kid before he started writing songs?” said a voice from behind me.
            I turned and looked at who the voice belonged to.
            It was James.
            “Um, yeah I did know that actually,” I answered.
            “Oh, okay,” he said, and then walked away.
            That was it. He came, he spoke, and then he walked away. It was a walk by questioning. Who does that?! James Castle, that was who.
            “Wow, what was that all about?” laughed Zooey. “That kid is a total creeper! You know he has the hots for you, right Mollie?”
            “Oh please don’t remind me, Zooey.” I watched as he kept on walking in the distance, one hand swaying next to his side as it carried his composition notebook. As I was lost in this little Castle-trance, the bell rang signaling for us to go to class. If only I would have paid better attention at this moment, then I would have been spared a whole lot of embarrassment and ridicule.
            As Zooey, Jojo, and I walked to class I kept looking towards James as he walked slowly with a couple of other boys, the last ones out in the field in front of the Academy. It was at this point that I remembered I had forgotten something very important to me.
            “I forgot Lenny, guys! Wait up for me, okay?”
            “Mollie,” said Jojo with a slight inflection of anxiety. “We’re gonna be late as it is. Just leave him out there. He’ll be fine.”
            “Jojo! I can’t leave him! I’ll be right back!”
            I took off like a speeding bullet to the place where we had been sitting before the bell rang. I needed to grab Lenny and rush back before the bell rang again. But the most terrible thing happened when I got to the space we had been at…Lenny was gone. All that was left was a faint outline of where he was laying before we left.
            In that moment, I felt my world crumbling down. You may be thinking to yourself, “Oh Mollie, it’s just a guitar, you could have gotten another one.” But no, I couldn’t just get another guitar. I wanted Lenny. Lenny was my guitar. He was the only guitar I wanted. No other could replace him. Tears slowly started making their way down my cheeks. I had lost Lenny. I left him, and it was all because of James Castle…
            “Do you need any help,” asked a voice from behind me. It was James again.
            “Go away James! Please just leave me alone, okay?” I was devastated and it was all of this boy’s fault.
            “I think I can help you Mollie. I’d like to help you if you let me.”
            “James, please. It’s nice of you. But he’s gone. Okay? Lenny’s gone forever. And it’s all my stupid fault…” I put my head down and brushed past him, bumping into his arm a little too forceful to be mistaken for an accident. I walked back up the steps to the front of the Academy, walked through the door, and went to class.
            I couldn’t think straight during my next class. I couldn’t think at all. My favorite thing in the whole entire world was gone, and I’d never get it back.
            “Pssst,” I heard from behind me. It was Zooey. “Were you able to get Lenny in time?”
            I looked back at her and gave her “the look.” That, combined with my growing blood shot eyes, was enough to tell her that I hadn’t.
            “I’m sorry Mol’,” she said, putting her hand on my shoulder.
            “Sorry isn’t going to bring him back Zooey, so just save it okay?” She sighed and sat back in her chair.
            Just when I had sunk to my absolute lowest, the door to the classroom opened up. Standing in the doorway was one very stinky and trash covered James Castle…holding Lenny.
            I didn’t think much about my actions. Seeing Lenny right there, still intact and barely a scratch on him made me fling myself out of my seat and towards James. I grabbed Lenny from him and held my poor guitar in my arms. The next thing I knew, my arms were flung around James Castle and I was hugging him tight.
            “Thank you so much James. You don’t know how much this means to me…” I said softly to him.
            “I told you I could help you out,” he replied.
            “Where did you find him?”
            “Excuse me! But we are trying to have class here, Miss Parker. Will you please take your seat,” barked Mrs. Lawson. “I am happy to see you found your guitar, but please sit back down.”
            James and I completely ignored her.
            “He was in the trash. I guess a janitor went out there right after you guys left and thought that it was trash since you just left it there.”
            “So…” I was thinking of what he had to do to get it. “You had to…”
            “It is really elementary, my dear Mollie,” answered James, his smile beaming with satisfaction. “Seeing as I have read all of the Sherlock Holmes novels, I used my wonderful deduction skills to trace a path…”
            “Wow, and you just completely ruined it with that.” I laughed. “Please just tell me in normal English.”
            “Oh.” He looked slightly hurt by his not being able to go into detail. “I jumped in the trash to get it.”
            And that’s when it began.
            “OoOoO, James jumped in the trash for Mollie!”
            “Do you have the hots for her James?!”
            “Why don’t you make her your girlfriend?!”
            “Say yes to him Mollie! Say yes! You two would make such a good couple!”
            All hell broke loose. Mrs. Lawson lost all control, and the demonic children that were my classmates had taken over.
            From that point on, I could not face James Castle again. The threat of humiliation was always there. With every look from him that came my way, there was always somebody ready to make a scene about it.
            I guess you could say that moment had a lasting effect on me.
            It was on that day that I swore to myself I would never, in a million years, be James Castle’s girlfriend.

Day Six: The Van Gogh Art Academy

The Van Gogh Art Academy

The beginning of the end for me began four months into my seventh grade year. I was attending John Adams Middle School, which was built next to a freeway and looked slightly like a prison. It was often mistaken for a prison by people that drove by, but, when I could, I would defend it and say, “It’s actually not as bad as it looks,” like if it were my child and I was saying, “He isn’t terrible at sports, he’s just uncoordinated.”
            Either way, John Adams Middle School looked like a prison and for the most part it was a prison. At least for me, the boy who spent his free time reading of love affairs in the terra of Tolstoy, or of the vanity of youth in the world of Wilde, or scribbling poems and short stories in a composition notebook, it was a prison. I had come to terms with the tragic fact that children in middle school were not as well versed in the ways of the world as I was. They, instead, spent their time looking for ways to “hook up” with one another and try the latest dance craze. Even at that age I could see how crappy the youth of America was going to eventually be.
            I was able to find refuge from all those hooligans I called my classmates in the four walls that came together to form my English class. It was the highlight of my day, and was without a doubt my strongest subject. There wasn’t a single assignment that I would not get an “OUTSTANDING!” or a “MARVELOUS JOB!” I guess you could say I began to feed off of this attention from my teacher, Mrs. Bower. I felt slightly less alone at school knowing that one person understood what I was doing and didn’t think I was some loser because my hero was Edgar Allen Poe.
            One day, only two months into my seventh grade year, Mrs. Bower assigned us a poetry project.
            “What I want you to do, class, is to write two poems about Christmas,” said Mrs. Bower. “They don’t have to be anything fancy, just have fun with it!”
            Now, Mrs. Bower’s definition of what fancy was and what I believed to be fancy were two completely different beasts. I learned this the hard way. Little did I know that my mastery of an otherwise dead art form was going to change the rest of my life.
            I was sitting in my pre-algebra class two weeks after my poems had been turned when the vice principal of our school walked in and stopped the class.
            “James Castle,” Mr. White called. “Please come with me to the Principal’s office.”
            To say that I was afraid would be an understatement. I had never been in trouble in my entire life. I never did anything wrong, nor did I even think about doing anything wrong! It just wasn’t in my nature to do wrong! So as I walked the cold, linoleum-paved hallway to my most certain doom, I wanted to, in simple terms, shit myself.
            When I walked into Principal Meyer’s office, she was not alone. Sitting in the two available chairs were my mother and my father. Standing next to Principal Meyer was Mrs. Bower, with quite possibly the widest smile I’ve ever seen on a woman to this very day.
            I looked over the faces of each person in the room. None of them seemed to be seething with anger towards me (Mrs. Bower was the exact opposite), but what could I have possibly done to have been called into the Principal’s office.
            “James, do you know why you’re in here?” asked Principal Meyer.
            “Uh, did I do something wrong? I can’t think of anything,” I said, panic filling my voice. “I swear I didn’t do anything! Whoever told you I did something framed me! It’s a conspiracy, man!” I was nervous.
            The others in the room began to laugh hysterically. Judging by their laughter, I ruled out the possibility of being in trouble. A huge weight was lifted off of my shoulders. But the question still remained; why was I in the Principal’s office?
            “No, James! You’re not in trouble whatsoever! Quite the opposite actually,” exclaimed Mrs. Bower. She reached into her large purse and pulled out my poems. “James, what you wrote here is amazing! Truly. I cannot believe that a mere seventh grader wrote this!”
            “Honey,” said my mother. “Is it true that you wrote these poems?”
            “Uh, yeah? Why?” I was still lost. I didn’t see what was so great about them personally.
            “Son, these are fantastic! We didn’t know you could write so beautifully,” said my father. “Why haven’t you shown us anything before?”
            Truth be told, I wasn’t sure why I had never shown my parents any of my writings. For me at least, it had always been something that I loved to do, but I never thought about it any further than that. I wrote the same way a person draws or plays music. It just felt right.
            “James, the reason we called you here today is because we believe that you can do great things with this talent of yours. And frankly, as much as it pains me to say this, you will not be able to show your skill at this school.” I wasn’t sure what Principal Meyer was trying to tell me at first. Did she want me to leave? Was I no longer welcome at John Adams?
            “Therefore,” began Principal Meyer. “We believe that your talents would be better shown at the Van Gogh Art Academy. It is far more suited for a child with your gifts. But the decision is up to you.”
            And just like that, I was off; all because I had taken a sudden liking to Shakespeare’s sonnets and wrote a couple of my own for Mrs. Bower. Sure I had to show my parents the rest of my stories and poems that I wrote so they could be sure it wasn’t just a one time deal, but I didn’t care. There was no way I was going to stay another minute in that poor prison if I didn’t have to. Goodbye John Adams Middle School. Hello Van Gogh Art Academy.
            Van Gogh Art Academy was not nearly as close to my house as John Adams was. The Academy, as I came to call it, was one hour away from my house; the exact midpoint between my house and Uncle Ed’s Christmas Tree Farm (that alone should have made a light bulb go off in my head). As soon as I we pulled up to the front steps of the Academy, I fell in love.
            It was everything I pictured a school with such a prestigious name like the Van Gogh Art Academy would be. From the Victorian style stone work of the building to the large expanse of green fields that led to the mountains in the distance. I couldn’t have felt more at home in a school than I did when I arrived at the Academy.
            My parents (mostly my mother) made a bigger deal out of it than they probably should have. As I made my way up the cobble steps to the entryway, my mother began to cry into my father’s shoulder. My father stood there waving, smiling at me like he’d never smiled at me before. Looking back on that one moment, I think they both knew that after that day, things would never be the same for me. I was going to do big things at the Academy and my life would be forever changed.
            My first order of business was to find the main office so that I could get my class schedule. Doing so, however, proved to be slightly more difficult than I imagined. The halls of the Academy weren’t anything like what the outside made it out to be. There were boys playing guitar on staircases, girls sketching people as they walked by, others writing in corners and talking to one another, carrying Shakespeare, Cummings, Wilde, Dickinson, Frost, and all of the greats. There was so much creativity going on under one roof that I could hardly contain my excitement.
            That was when it happened.
            The glaze in my eyes must have been a beacon, calling her out to me, screaming “Hey! I’m lost!” She walked up to me, her bouncy, brown hair lying softly against her shoulders. At first glance, I didn’t recognize her. But when she spoke, I knew exactly who it was. You never forget the voice of the person who saved you from being crushed by Christmas tree.
            “Hi,” she said. “You look lost. Do you need any help?”
            “Yes! Yes I do!”
            “Great,” she smiled at me. “My name’s Mollie, Mollie Parker. I think I can help you.”
            She had spoken those same words to me two years ago and I told her to leave me alone. This time I had a feeling things would be much different.

Day Five: Act I, Scene II

ACT I, SCENE II

            (It’s daytime. Everything is the same, except MOLLIE is accompanied by her older brother, SAM, age eleven, and her MOTHER. Wrapping paper lies on the floor, torn and in many pieces. The MOTHER picks up the trash, while the children play with their respective gifts.)

     MOLLIE: (playing) Sam, do you want to play with my Barbies and I’ll play with your iPod?
     SAM: (laughing) You wish, dork! I’m not letting this baby out of my site. Dear Ole Saint Nick wasn’t too bad this year, eh Mom?
     MOTHER: Yes, he was VERY generous to you Sam. In the spirit of Christmas, maybe you should pass on that generosity.
     SAM: (thinking) But…how?
     MOTHER: (hands him the trash bag) Have fun!
     SAM: (sighs heavily) But Mom! Can’t this wait till after I put all my music on my iPod?
     MOTHER: Oh sure, take your time! Heck, why don’t you just forget about it! I’ll do everything. Then after I’m done here, I’ll go clean your room and then I can take you to get some fancy new headphones so you can really listen to that badboy!
     SAM: (excitedly) Wow Mom! Really?!
     MOTHER: No.
     MOLLIE: (laughing) Sam got fooled! Sam got fooled!
     SAM: Shuddup dweeb!
     MOLLIE: MOM! Sam told me to shuddup!
     MOTHER: Mollie, I am right here. There is no need to y-
     SAM: No I didn’t! I said, “WHAT’S up, dweeb?”
     MOTHER: Sam, you did not. I heard y-
     MOLLIE: NO HE DIDN’T! HE’S LYING!
     MOTHER: (losing her patience) Mollie, lower your v-
     SAM: I swear, I’m not!
     MOLLIE: LIAR FACE!
     SAM: TROLL!
     MOLLIE: DUMBY HEAD!
     SAM: ACORN!
     MOLLIE: POOP MOUTH MC’STUPID!
     MOTHER: ENOUGH! BOTH OF YOU! (separates the two and calms down) Sam, pick up the trash. I do not want to hear one moan or groan about it. Afterwards, you can listen to your iPod. Understood?
     SAM: (defeated) Yes, ma’am.
     MOTHER: Now, I’m going to get breakfast started. Try not to kill each other. (exits)     MOLLIE: Sam?
     SAM: Yeah Mollie?
     MOLLIE: Do you think that Santa can you hear us right now?
     SAM: (annoyed) I don’t know Mollie…maybe. He does see us when we’re sleeping, and knows when we’re awake. I mean, he seems to know everything.
     MOLLIE: (aside) Then why didn’t he hear me last night…
     SAM: What did you say Mollie?
     MOLLIE: Oh nothing Sam. You’ll laugh at me…
     SAM: Come on…just tell me.
     MOLLIE: Oh fine. Last night I asked Santa to take back all of my presents back.
     SAM: What?! How come?
     MOLLIE: ‘Cause I told him I wanted something else. Something better than any of those presents.
     SAM: What did you ask him for?
     MOLLIE: …I asked him for Daddy. I told him that I want him back. Since he’s been gone for so long.
     SAM: Mollie…
     MOLLIE: What Sam? It’s not impossible! Santa can do anything! (aside) At least I thought he could…
     SAM: Well Mollie, I think there are some things that Santa just doesn’t have any say in.
     MOLLIE: But he’s SANTA, Sam! He flies around the whole world in one night! Don’t you think he could have brought Daddy back to us?
     SAM: (thinking) I guess he could have…but he didn’t. I’m sorry Mol’. Maybe we can try for our birthdays. We get one wish then. Maybe it’ll work that time.
     MOLLIE: (whispering) I just can’t believe Santa can’t do something…he can do everything…all I wanted was this one thing…and he couldn’t even do it for me.
     SAM: Mollie, don’t think about it, okay? I’m sure Dad is fine. Santa brought you presents. I mean, he did bring what you asked for.
     MOLLIE: He didn’t listen to me Sam! He forgot about me!
     SAM: Stop it Mollie! Don’t say that!
     MOLLIE: I wish I didn’t have any of this…I wish we didn’t have Christmas Sam. Why can’t he be here? (begins to cry) I just want Daddy…
     SAM: I do too, Mol’. I miss him a lot. (continues to pick up trash)     MOLLIE: (to herself) Oh Santa…please just give me my daddy.
(enter quietly a man in an Army uniform from the front door. He is middle aged. No one notices his arrival. He walks in slowly and puts his hands over MOLLIE’s eyes)     FATHER: Merry Christmas, Sweetheart.
     MOLLIE: DADDY! (embrace tightly)     SAM: DAD! You’re home!
(enter MOTHER)     MOTHER: Pat…Patrick?
     FATHER: Merry Christmas, Carol.
     MOTHER: (tears in her eyes) Merry Christmas, Patrick.
     MOLLIE: He listened! Daddy! Santa Clause listened! I asked him to bring you and here you are! Santa really listened!
     FATHER: He did. (smiles) He brought me back, Sweetie. (reveals three packages that was hidden in a bag) I brought you guys presents!
     SAM: Woo! Presents!
     MOTHER: (laughing) Sam, why don’t you help me finish breakfast? Remember, pass on the generosity!
     SAM: (chuckles) Okay Mom, I’ll help you out. (both exit)     MOLLIE: Daddy, you’re really here. (smiles) You’re the best gift Santa gave me this year. (hugs)
     FATHER: Oh Mollie, it’s so good to be home. (kisses her forehead) I love you, Sweetheart.
     MOLLIE: I love you too Daddy. (holds him tighter) Will you read me a story? It’s the one thing I’ve missed so much about you. You need to catch up on all you’ve missed!
     FATHER: (laughing) Okay, I have the perfect one for you. Are you ready?
     MOLLIE: Sure am.
     FATHER: Alright. This story is called “The Greatest Gift of All…”

CURTAIN

Day Four: Act I, Scene I

ACT ONE, SCENE ONE

            (A small living room, furnished with a single couch, a matching arm chair, a coffee table, and numerous amounts of Christmas decorations. The lights in the house are off, the only light coming from a Christmas tree U.L. A window S.L. illuminates with the passing of car headlights. Footsteps are heard coming from the staircase in the background. Enter MOLLIE PARKER, a fragile, yet assertive youth of eight years old. She tiptoes across the room to the coffee table, where a plate of cookies and a glass of milk reside. She pauses there, a sense of confusion crossing her face. She tiptoes toward the Christmas tree, peeking under, and then returning to the coffee table.)

     MOLLIE: (With a sense of urgency) Where is he? Why hasn’t he come yet? It’s already…uh…he should have come by now! (Sadly) Oh Santa Clause, all I want is to meet you. You seem like such a friendly guy with your bushy beard and your big belly. Why haven’t you come yet?
            (She looks from side to side, picks up a cookie, and eats it. She picks up the glass of milk and takes a drink. She drags her feet across the floor and sits down on the couch. Her hands lay in lap, clasped as if in prayer.)    
     MOLLIE: (Pleading) Okay, I’m sorry about the cookie, Santa, but I…uh…needed to check that they weren’t poisoned. (She stops to think, and continues, reassuringly) Not that my mommy would poison you or anything! But how bad would that be if you were found dead in my house? I mean, I would be the girl who ruined Christmas for everybody! I’d have nightmares.
            (She lies down and wraps herself in a blanket that was draped over the couch. She closes her eyes, a smile crossing her face.)    
     MOLLIE: (Yawning) I guess all I really want to tell you Santa, if you’re listening somewhere, is that I’ve been really good this year. I’m not lying! I promise! You can even check my nose!
            (She touches her nose to reassure herself. She opens her eyes and looks toward the ceiling.)
     MOLLIE: Santa, I know I wrote in my letter that I wanted a Barbie Dream House, and a puppy, and a Hannah Montana poster for my room, and a cell phone, and an iPod, and a computer, but I want you to take it all back, okay? Please take them all back. I don’t need them. I don’t need any of that stuff. If there’s one thing you can do for me Santa it’s bring my daddy home. Can you do that for me Santa? He’s been away for really long. (Pause) He’s the only thing I want for Christmas, Santa.
            (She brings the blanket tighter around herself and clings to her pillow)    
     MOLLIE: (In a faint whisper) Daddy…if you’re out there somewhere listening…Merry Christmas…
            (The lights from passing cars that through the window become less frequent until the only light onstage is coming from the Christmas tree. The colors fall gently on the room and on MOLLIE as she slowly drifts off to sleep.)

CURTAIN