Date: Tue, 19 Jul 2016 20:56:33 +0000
From: Joel <joelyoung120@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Messenger - Chapter 7

			       The Messenger
			       By Joel Young

	     Chapter 7 – Two Data Points Don't Make a Trend

The next day was Sunday, and I went to church with my parents.  On the way,
I asked if Mr. or Mrs. McAndrew had mentioned anything about David's
family.  My Mom said they hadn't talked about them.  I was very
disappointed.  To distract myself, I thought about Ben for the rest of the
drive.

During the church service, I tried to pay attention to the sermon, but I
was still thinking about Ben.  I almost couldn't believe that we had kissed
and talked about going away together for a weekend.  But, as I sat in the
pew, hearing snippets of the sermon on truth and honesty, I was confused.
Were my thoughts about Ben okay because they reflected my true feelings for
him?  Or, was I being dishonest and deceitful because I was hiding what I
felt and what I wanted to do?  Or maybe, I was nothing but an unrepentant
sinner.

I decided feeling conflicted wouldn't help anyone.  I tuned out the sermon
and thought about kissing Ben again.

I enjoyed rehearsal the next day.  Ben and I didn't talk much, nor did we
sit together in the auditorium.  But, there was a connection and a few
`knowing' looks between us.  I found that having a secret relationship with
Ben was exciting.

The play was starting to come together.  And, during the final weeks before
dress rehearsal, the cast members began enjoying the show.  Corey had
learned all of his lines, and Heather was becoming quite the flirt.

The week before dress rehearsals was what Ben called `tech week.'  He
brought in the light and sound crews, as well as a stage manager from
DCOPA.  Jerry seemed like a great guy, and I think everyone liked him.  Our
sound crew knew what they were doing, and they made a huge difference in
transitioning from one scene to the next.  The light crew, however, was a
big problem.  Because there were no flats for scenery, Ben had designed an
elaborate lighting plan that he said would make the stage come alive.  But,
it wasn't working.  Ben tried to coach the light crew, but they just
couldn't seem to pick up on their cues fast enough.  And even when they
did, they fumbled with the control panel.

On the Wednesday of `tech week,' I got to rehearsal early.  Ben was the
only one there, and he was writing on a pad of paper.  He looked
frustrated.

"Hey, Ben," I said.  "You okay?"

"Yea," he said.  "I'm just trying to do some writing I promised I'd do."

"Can I help? I asked.

"No, but thanks," Ben said.  "It has nothing to do with the play.  I got
myself into a stupid bet with my friends down at the Locker.  Now, I have
to write a poem."

"The Locker?" I asked.  "Is that a bar or part of a gym?"

Ben looked at me like I had asked a naïve question.  "My friends and I
usually go to the Locker for a few drinks on Friday nights, you know, just
to relax.  There was an announcement of a poetry contest on the tables.  My
friends bet me I couldn't win one of the prizes.  There's $150 on the line,
and now, I can't afford not to enter."

"How's it coming along?" I asked.

Ben looked discouraged.  "Let's just say that, today, I don't seem to be
the sharpest tool in the shed."

"Maybe I can help you," I said.  "I like writing poetry.  What's your
topic?"

"I'm embarrassed to tell you," he said.

"We've talked about some very personal things.  Why don't you just tell
me?" I said.

"It's a gay poetry contest," Ben said.  "I have to write a humorous verse
for a gay greeting card."

"A gay greeting card?" I questioned.  "I've never seen such a thing."

Ben's facial expression let me know that I was continuing to be naïve.
"How many gay bookstores have you hung around?" he asked.

"Ah," I said.  "Got it."

"Could you really help me, Joel?" Ben asked.  "It has to be done by the end
of the week."

"Sure.  Why not?" I said.

Ben explained that the greeting card could be for any occasion, but he was
leaning toward a birthday card.  "Maybe from one old geezer to another;
that might be really funny!" he said.

"I'll have it for you on Friday - before rehearsal starts," I said.

"Thanks, Joel," Ben said.  "Maybe I can repay you - after the show closes."

That night, after rehearsal, I went home and began working on the poem.  I
was glad it was for a greeting card.  That meant it could be short.  As
soon as I figured out the perspective from which to write, it fell together
very quickly.  I made enough progress that night so I knew I could have a
final draft to Ben on Friday.

Since we were one week away from opening night, we had a Friday night
rehearsal.  When Friday came around, I was looking forward to giving the
poem to Ben.  I really wanted him to like it.  But when I arrived at the
auditorium, Ben was busy working on the lights.  "Just slip it in my case,"
he said.  "And thanks, Joel.  You're terrific!"

Rehearsal that night was the best it had been – except for the light
crew.  Their mistakes were very frustrating, not only to Ben but for the
actors as well.  Ben didn't exactly yell at the crew, but his tone became
very impatient.  The members of the light crew were getting upset, too.
And, one of them walked out, yelling that he was quitting the show.  At
that point, Ben called for a ten-minute break.  When we all came back, Ben
announced that one of his friends from the Detroit College of Performing
Arts would be heading up the light crew starting on Monday.

At the end of the night, Ben looked exhausted, but he gave us a pep talk.
"It's almost show time," he said.  "Dress rehearsals will start on Tuesday,
and we open on Friday.  You are all doing great!  I know you can do this.
Get lots of rest this weekend.  And, don't be nervous.  Everything will be
fine!"

To me, it sounded as if he was mostly trying to convince himself that
everything would be okay.

I waited around until everyone else had left so that I could talk to Ben
alone.  He was sitting on the edge of the stage looking at a diagram of the
lighting plan.  I sat down on the stage, too.  "We're all glad you're
bringing in someone from DCOPA to take over the lights," I said.  That was
an excellent idea; it should help a lot."

"Thanks, Joel," Ben said.

"You look so tired, Ben," I said.  "Are you okay?"

"Just overwhelmed," he said.  "I've got a paper due on Monday, and finals
to prepare for.  And now, I'm going to have to come back here over the
weekend and show Chris how to work that outdated piece of garbage this
school calls a light board."

"How can I help," I asked.

Ben turned his head toward me.  "What would really help is something we've
already agreed has to wait."

There was an awkward silence while we both considered the possibilities.

"I've given that a lot of thought," I said to Ben.  "And, I might have a
different way of looking at things."

"I'm listening," Ben said.

"Well, when you were at my house a few weeks ago, you said that we couldn't
let - any display of affection between us - become a trend," I said.  "And
then, in Math class last week, Mr. Zeleznik talked about graphing data and
looking for trends.  He said that if you only have two data points, you
can't determine a trend.  It takes at least three data points to identify a
possible trend."

"I don't get it," Ben said.

I gave him a naughty grin.  "We've only had one kiss, Ben.  And, a second
kiss couldn't be called a trend - at least according to our school's math
department."

"There you go again," Ben said.  "You're playing with words to get what you
want."

"Ben, you're the one who said you wanted something that you couldn't have.
I was just trying to figure out a way that you could at least get some of
what you want," I said.

"Sometimes, I think you're too smart for my own good," Ben said. "But, if
we are going to have one more kiss, I'm going to make it count."

I slid closer to him.  "That sounds good to me," I said.

Ben smiled at me.  "You know I think you're adorably cute, don't you?"

I smiled back. "I hope so because I find you - irresistibly handsome."

Ben and I brought our faces close together and looked into each other's
eyes before having our one kiss.  When I did put my lips on his, Ben opened
his mouth and wrapped his arms around me.  It quickly became a passionate
kiss.

Before the kiss was over, we both heard a noise behind us.  Ben pulled away
from me and looked upstage left.  I noticed his facial expression.  He
looked startled.

I turned around to see what was going on, and there was Corey Anderson -
staring at us.  He didn't move as he narrowed his eyes and glared at me.  I
have never seen anyone look at me with such anger and hatred.  Then, Corey
turned and ran out of the backstage door.

Ben just sat there, so I got up and ran after Corey.  When I got into the
hall, I couldn't see him.  And, I wasn't sure in which direction he had
run.  I stopped and listened for any sound that might tell me which way I
should go.  When I heard sounds of running to my left, toward the parking
lot exit, I took off.

I wasn't sure what I would say when I caught up with Corey.  But, I had to
try to talk him into keeping quiet about what he had seen.  By the time I
got to the door that led to the student parking lot, however, I saw Corey
driving away – like the proverbial bat out of Hell.

I looked out of the window, and I felt sick.  I had a huge knot in my
stomach. I thought back to the sermon at church a few weeks ago.  "And now
you know," I thought to myself.  "You're just a deceitful sinner who
deserves whatever he gets."

I headed back toward the auditorium, hoping that Ben would know what to do.
When I got there, I saw Ben packing up his papers.  "Did you talk to
Corey?" he asked.  He seemed almost unconcerned.

I told Ben that Corey had driven off before I could catch him.

"Well, I wouldn't worry about it," Ben said.  "You can call him over the
weekend.  I'm sure you guys can come to an understanding."  Ben turned off
the auditorium lights.  "Time to go, Joel.  My friends are waiting for me
at the Locker."

We put on our coats, and I followed him out to the parking lot.  Although
spring was just a few days away, the weather in Detroit was still cold and
snowy.  Ben started to brush the snow off of his car.

"Ben, aren't we going to talk about this?" I asked.

"It's no big deal, Joel," he answered.  "It was just one kiss.  You can
talk with Corey tomorrow and persuade him not to say anything.  You're good
at persuasion, Joel.  You are the state champion, aren't you?"

With that, Ben opened the door of his car.  "See you Monday!" he said.
"And Joel, can you work with Corey on the introduction to Act 3.  It was a
little choppy tonight."

I stood and watched as Ben backed out of his parking space and drove off.
When I got into my car, I sat there for several minutes thinking about what
had just happened.  I felt abandoned.  Ben had dumped this whole problem on
me, and then he had left me alone in the cold.  I didn't know what to do.

When my fingers became numb from the cold, I started the car and managed to
drive home.  My parents were already asleep, so I turned out the lights and
went upstairs to get ready for bed.  A few minutes after crawling between
the sheets, I broke down in tears.  Instead of anger at Ben, I was starting
to feel guilty about what I had done.  I had foolishly talked Ben into
kissing me again, and I deserved the look of hatred on Corey's face when he
saw us.  And, since the whole thing was my fault, Ben had every right to
dump the problem on me to fix.

I knew I'd never fall asleep if I didn't shake off the feelings of guilt,
buck up and decide on a plan.  First, I decided that I'd consider repenting
- later.  Then, I came up with a few ideas to try to solve the problem.  I
would call Corey in the morning and ask him to meet me somewhere.  I
decided that there was no need to plan out in detail what to say.  I needed
to find out what he was thinking first.  Maybe, he wasn't planning to say
anything.  Maybe, if I apologized, it would all blow over.

The next morning, I tried to reach Corey on the phone, but there was no
answer.  So, I drove by his house.  It was totally dark, and it appeared
that no one was home.  I thought maybe Corey and his family had gone away
for the weekend.

That afternoon, Sara called and asked if I wanted to catch a movie.  So
after dinner, I met her at the mall. There was still about 20 minutes
before the movie started.  We sat down on a bench near the fountain in the
center of the mall.  Sara immediately picked up on how upset I was.

"Joel," she said.  "What's going on?  I can tell something is bothering
you."

I knew I could trust Sara, and she was the only person I could talk to
about the situation.  "I've messed up, Sara," I said.  "Big time."

I told her about breakfast and shopping with Ben a few weeks before.  I was
surprised at how shocked Sara looked when I told her about going back to my
house and Ben kissing me.

"Joel!" she said.  "What were you thinking?!? Don't you know how that could
blow up on you?"

"Yea, I know," I said.  "It blew up last night."

And then, I told her the rest of it - Corey telling me about his crush on
Ben; Ben and me kissing after last night's rehearsal; and how Corey had
caught us.  And, I told her about Ben dumping the problem on me to fix.

Sara looked at me and shook her head.  "Do you know what I don't
understand, Joel?  How can someone as smart as you be so stupid?  Ben is
using you!"

"I'm his assistant," I said.  "I'm supposed to help him when he needs it.
It's my job."

"You're an idiot!" Sara said.  "Doing your job is one thing.  But letting
Ben dump everything he doesn't want to do on you is another.  And, he
treats you terribly!  The whole cast sees it."

Then, Sara said the words that really hurt.  "And you follow him around
like a lost puppy dog, jumping for joy every time he throws you a little
scrap of attention!"

"I don't think he does it on purpose," I said.  "He's just got a lot of
responsibility on his shoulders right now.  And, I know he likes me.  He
even asked me if I'd do him the honor of being his friend."

"That sounds a little overly dramatic, don't you think?" Sara asked.

I couldn't help but smile.  "Well, he was down on one knee," I said.

Sara rolled her eyes.  "We're skipping the movie," she said.  "I'm taking
you back to my house, and we're putting the real Joel Young back together!"



Readers: Are you enjoying the story?  Please let me know what you think.
Comments can be sent to joelyoung120@hotmail.com