River: FIRE, #2

Is This Real?

Chapter I

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Olivia sat gazing into her bedroom mirror unable to recognize the cold face that looked back at her. The cinnamon-brown skin, light brown eyes, and long hair were virtually unchanged. But the sadness in this woman’s eyes was more pronounced than ever recalled. She sobbed in terror at the stranger reflected in front of her. Had she sunk so deep, so fast, so long, that she could not recollect her own identity? Everything that began less than a year earlier had come  to an agonizing head that very afternoon. Olivia had lost friendships, her sense of dignity, and the respect of all who knew her. She blamed no one. She could not blame anyone except the reflected monster that shattered the internal girl sitting on the make-up stool, entrenched in a miry pit of transgression.

Olivia was deeply grieved by the death of her friendship with David, and she did not think the pain would ever cease. They had known each other since they were five years old. She had been sad to leave her home, but she could not have found a better landing than next door to the Mitchells. In many ways, she adopted them as her own family, spent nearly every day on their welcoming porch, slept over, took summer vacations with them. And David. He was a better friend than she could have ever imagined. Someone she now felt she never deserved.

David had become a very big part of her life until their last year in high school when everything came to a screeching halt. Caught in her moment of weakness he found her guilty, turned from her in disgrace, and ran. He ran, and it seemed that he had been running away from her ever since. That single moment of innocence lost broke her virtue, crushed her self-worth, and destroyed a brotherly bond built in caring spirit.

Calamity mounted against her plans as her womb grew with the blessing of life. A life she hid from her mother, her lover, and friends. A life she was unprepared to nurture for the sake of her education and aspirations. Olivia was supposed to be going to Birmingham College University. She was supposed to be an architect preparing blueprints and designs for project rejuvenation and corporate parks. What choice did she have but to visit that clinic in the noon of an early September day? What choice did she have but to swallow those pills and agonize as the life inside was snuffed out before meeting its birth?

Olivia’s initial reaction of relief was met with the wonder of the type of monster she had become as despair seeped in hard and fast. Still she repressed the guilt, adorned the mask every day as she went to class, made her grades, spoke to people, ate, slept, and did the regular activities. Inside she viewed it all from a distance, saw everything work perfectly yet knew nothing was truly working. Inside, she was completely broken and disjointed.

And then came Jared. An all too tall, dark, and handsome, all too bright and brilliant athlete, all too last year student who preyed on freshman emotion and foolishness, all too one night stand vanishing act that forgot her name the instant she became another trophy. Olivia spiraled down after him with a descent she would have never envisioned, compromising her integrity to every heart that offered promise. She gave over more and more of her body every time as she became increasingly weak on her defenses. The girl in the mirror was changing. Who or what was reflecting back was no longer the same. She had aged from that innocent teenager filled with ambition and dreams. Olivia tried to listen to the aging reflection, set her mind to remedy herself of constant failures. And then came Randall. A sweet caring man who bloomed with affection and interest in the personality Olivia held. A calm voice and encouraging word that brought out the precious treasures she possessed within. A man full of promise and potential who initially just would not show her enough of the physical affection that she had become accustomed to. A man she gave her body to countless times, who suddenly became distant and abrupt, uproarious and boastful with his sexual prowess, inviting and eerie with his manner of speech among others. A man who stood guard in the doorway of his dorm room while she futilely fought four of his upper- class friends as they ravaged her body with their hands, their tongues, and taunts.

Her body was violated, her spirit was broken, her heart grew cold as stone. Olivia’s name became synonymous with whoredom to the point of her colleagues prescribing her the nickname Ho-livia. Misjudgment after misjudgment followed after her, built walls between her truth and their lies, snapped her feeble friendships with roommates and classmates alike. The girl in the mirror kept aging, kept forecasting the extent of deep sorrow with the weight of shadow in her eyes. Olivia was learning to detest that reflection. Mirrors no longer stood as her heel often found its purpose when smashed through.

Ungentlemanly strangers kept her name rolling off their tongues in her presence, making requests known for appoint- ments or rainchecks. Getting through it all until Christmas was her only hope.

Yet even with chaos of the semester fading, the darkness followed her on this fateful night where whispers flooded in procession of her and bounded to her mother’s mortified ears. A warm embrace of understanding erupted with harsh slanders and misrepresentations. Lies had beaten her truth again and seized her only fortress with relentless destruction.

I cannot believe that I have raised such a whore! Ma, it’s not true!

I don’t want to hear it. You’re an absolute filthy slut! I sent you to that school to get an education! Not to sell yourself with every boy on the entire campus!

Ma, I didn’t—

I want you out of here today!

The wind was knocked completely from Olivia’s lungs. Please Ma. I can’t go back. I was nearly raped—

I said today, Olivia! Pack your bags, and get your little fast behind out!

Olivia sat vulnerable on her make-up stool with expression- less shock on her face, Gucci luggage packed and organized on her bed. She did not know the woman in the mirror. She had sunk to the deepest depths faster than her breath could catch, longer than her lungs could hold, and could no longer maintain any semblance of good character. Who was she, this woman gawking back at her as if she knew the world about her? Olivia slid her shoe from her foot and threw it at the mirror, splintering her into tiny pieces. To the reflection that remained, she finally spoke her truth.

I hate you!

Chapter II

Olivia knelt, feebly holding on to the altar and begging God for forgiveness. Regretful memories flooded her mind. It had been ten years since Olivia’s altercation with her mother. They had not spoken of it since. Nor had they touched on much of substance. Their relationship remained cordial, void of any deep connection.

After that horrific afternoon, Olivia returned to the jeers at school. Girls who had been jealous of her beauty used the rumors as fuel to slander her worse than before they started. Guys she did not know propositioned her shamelessly. The four upperclassman from that night taunted her. Randall acted as if he were oblivious to her existence. But the men who assaulted her and their co-conspirator eventually graduated. With each passing year, the jokes faded, although she would be unexpectedly met with the sting of that terrible nickname from time to time. Things did not change as much as she would have liked, but changes were present.

The biggest transformation came in Olivia. She returned to school with a new determination. After the heart-wrenching rejection from her mother and after seeing where her behavior had landed her, she knew that she could not continue on her deadly course. Books and not boys became her best friends. The taunts produced deeper and deeper wounds, but she did not respond to them. She became relentless in ensuring that there would no longer be any basis for them. By choice, she had no boyfriend. Not by choice, she had no friends. It was a lonely existence, but there was some solace in the solitude. It was safe. There was no one who could injure her. She slowly but surely began to feel a sense of pride over doing the right thing no matter what the cost.

Academically, the price paid was well worth it. Olivia grad- uated summa cum laude in three years. She went immediately into her career as an architect at a top-notch firm, Lingles & Associates, in Chicago. The climb up the career ladder was steady with her landing the biggest accounts and securing promotion after promotion. Money came easy.  She had the Mercedes. She lived in the penthouse in the heart of downtown, overlooking Lake Michigan. There were a few she counted as friends, although she realized they would more rightly be called acquaintances. She finally let down guard enough to allow a man in her life, a man who, incredible as it was to her, absolutely adored her. Even though she and her mother were nowhere near the best of friends, their relationship had survived. They even managed to talk on the phone now and again, catching up on each other’s lives at slightly better than a superficial level.

Olivia had far more than she could have ever imagined. Yet the hole in her life, the hole in her heart still remained unfilled. She had passed the church in which she now knelt many times.

The stone architecture and stain-glassed windows attracted her for their beauty, but the enormity of the structure repulsed her for what it symbolized. Deception, gossip, backstabbing... all the qualities that she believed characterized all churches that mimicked the mega-sized image of the one her mother frequented.

The church where Olivia now knelt was a large one. Initially sickened by the size of it, she gradually became more and more drawn to it. This blustery morning she walked by it again with all plans to make it to the coffee shop where she often had breakfast before heading into a few hours of weekend work. Something compelled her to go inside. She stood there frozen on Michigan Avenue, the bone-chilling wind whipping at her as she looked the edifice over. The smiles that she had seen so many times from the congregants leaving the church had intrigued her, but she wondered if they were the same plastered ones she had become so familiar with, the same one she had become accustomed to putting on during earlier years. There seemed to be something different in them, however. Olivia did not know if the difference she saw was more for want of something genuine, but as her stockinged legs knocked together from the fierce cold, she found herself turning and examining the building.

Cheerful music rung from towers of the church. A few congregants rushed in. One, a woman probably not much older than she, turned briefly and gave her a big smile. As she entered, the image of the joy in her smile remained. Blowing the warm air from her mouth and seeing the effect, Olivia pulled her fur-trimmed hood further down over her head and scurried up the steps.

As Olivia entered, she was not confronted with any scowls of disapproval though she noticed she had been a late arrival. She slid through a small crowd among the pews and found her place as a song, one she vaguely recalled, ended shortly thereafter. A man who she assumed was the pastor stood at the pulpit and invited them to greet one another before she took her seat. He came down and joined the crowd as many introduced themselves to Olivia and a few struck up brief conversations. When they reoccupied their seats, Olivia felt a warmth rush over her. Amongst all these people, she felt welcome and at home.

The pastor’s sermon was on forgiveness, and Olivia soaked in the words from the passages in the pew Bible as if for dear life. She listened with a keen ear as to make sure that she would be able to remember every word once she left the sanctuary.

We find it difficult to forgive others, that’s true. But more- over we have the hardest time facing ourselves and moving beyond our pasts when we look over our transgressions. Putting ourselves above God when the very reason Jesus came from heaven to earth was to die for our sins. He died because you needed the one who you truly transgressed against to forgive you. His death and resurrection were pointless if there were anything left to compensate for our sins. It takes sheer vulnerability and a relinquishment of pride to accept that there is not one good thing or any multitude of things that anyone can do to make up for his insult to God. Only one who was perfect could pay, and Jesus already has. He does not want us to live a life imprisoned by guilt. He wants our freedom.

Olivia drank in the message. She had heard and understood this before,  but it had new meaning now. She had done  so much and grown to hate what she had done to herself. There were parts of herself that she had detested for so long and now to think that God could truly forgive her was incomprehensible. As much as she knew on a certain level that this was reality, it was one that was hard for her heart to grasp. She clasped her hands together, heart overcome with grief as to the horrible things she had done and hopeful for the forgiveness that she so desperately needed.

When the pastor made the invitation to speak to any of the counselors at the front or to come to the altar for prayer, Olivia gathered her belongings and automatically put on the polite smile to those who greeted her. Her eyes kept going to the altar. She needed to go there, but self-consciousness was trying to rule. Finally deciding that she might go virtually unnoticed with such a huge crowd still present, she went, eyes straight ahead.

Olivia had been kneeling at the altar and pouring out her heart to God until there was nothing left to say. As she opened her eyes and adjusted to the light, she realized that there were only a few hushed whispers around her. She looked to her left and to her right. No one knelt beside  her. Scanning the sanctuary, she saw that only a few people remained. The pastor, who had apparently been waiting patiently for her, smiled and began to slowly approach her. Olivia stood, embarrassed at having made the altar a home to her shame for such a long time. He stopped short in his tracks and looked at someone who had come beside her.

Olivia had felt the sudden presence, but when she turned around, she had to grip the altar to keep from stumbling. Her heart felt as if it had literally crashed to her feet. ‘David?’ She peered into his face more and realized that she had been mistaken.

Olivia? he asked, voice painted with as much shock as she felt.

She nodded dumbly and then swallowing, uttered, Micah? He pushed the glasses up on the bridge of his nose and nodded just as dumbly.

W-what are you doing here? Micah asked.

She had heard him, but, still overcome with shock, she had not understood the meaning of his words. Her knees began to wobble and her voice shook as wildly as she asked him what he had said. He shook his head in disbelief and just stared at her for a few moments. Motioning with his hand, he asked if she wanted to take a seat. Not answering, she fell into the nearest one and he sat beside her.

What are you doing here? she asked him. He nodded, apparently thinking she had figured out what he had asked her. To this, she responded, Oh...I’m here because I...I live in Chicago now. I’ve been here for the last seven years. He nodded, not saying anything, mouth slightly open. How... how about you?

After a few moments, he finally responded, I’m here on conference. That is, I came here for a conference.

Oh really? What...uh, what type? Engineering.

A smile burst through on Olivia’s face. She had always imagined Micah, quite the genius in her estimation, in a career like that. You’re an engineer?

Yes.

Micah, she asked, biting her lip, how is David? He smiled slightly. He’s fine, Olivia. He’s real good.

Is he married? Does he have kids?

Micah chuckled, No. He has none of that, but life has been good to him. He looked over his shoulder and stood. Olivia stood with him. I’m really sorry. I have a friend who is waiting for me.

Is she the friend you’re talking about? she asked and smiled in the woman’s direction. He said it was. She has friendly eyes. Micah smiled, that crooked smile that she had known so well.

I have to leave town by tomorrow, but is there any way we can get together before I go? His eyes seemed to plead with her, but they did not have to.

Definitely!...Uh, I mean if that’s okay with—

It’s okay, Micah interrupted. They decided on meeting up at a restaurant at the airport before his flight. Olivia, he said before heading off, it is so good to see you.

It’s good to see you, too, Micah. This has truly made my day.

* * *

Ni-gel, Olivia muttered under her breath, we really have to go. She had been pacing and finally marched up to her boyfriend, who stood at the counter trying to retrieve his luggage. They had made it to the airport early enough for them to be able to spend time at the gate chatting before they needed to meet with Micah at one. At 12:30, however, it suddenly came to him that important documents were in his check-in baggage. Thus the dilemma he was now trying to solve.

Nigel raised his hand and implored Olivia to wait another minute. Ma’am, he continued, I know you’re doin’ duh best you cain, but...

Olivia marched away again, steam starting to accumulate in her ears. ‘He didn’t even look that worried,’ she told herself. ‘And isn’t it convenient that something so important would just come to his mind right before I was supposed to meet Micah.’ Olivia turned around, arms folded at the sight of him. His hands spoke as much as his mouth as he continued to plead his case. She tapped her foot on the floor, deciding what to do. It was only a few minutes until one, and getting to the restaurant on the other side of Midway Airport would be no quick feat.

She marched back over to him and asserted that she was just going to have Micah paged. Olivia, please, he said, briefly looking in her direction. He had already asked her not to leave, as he feared they might not be able to reconnect. His flight left at 1:30. There would only be enough time for him to run over with her to Gypsy’s, make Micah’s acquaintance, and rush back to the gate. He began talking to the flight attendant again, but Olivia interrupted, protesting that she would just see him later. He cut a glare at her momentarily but then his eyes became soft toward her. Please, honey, he whispered, jus give me anothuh minute.

She wrung her hands, not knowing what to do. She felt guilty for putting such bad motives on Nigel. He did, after all, have a very important job and could not take the chance of his papers being lost. She understood why he wanted them with him not only for the confidential information they contained but also because he needed to review them before the meeting he was due to have upon first arrival in Milan. In his haste, he had repacked them in another suitcase before leaving home. He had said that his thought was that the carry-on baggage he now had with him contained those documents. Although he maintained a calm exterior, Olivia realized that was not unlike Nigel. His voice was calm, steady, patient, but the sweat that covered his forehead should have let her know that inside he was truly frantic.

At the same time, however, she could not imagine standing up Micah. She knew Nigel wanted to come with her, and she wanted him with her as well. This had just been taking too long, and she did not see how she could chance missing out on this opportunity to see her old friend, one that might never present itself again.

Sir. Another flight attendant approached with Nigel’s bag in hand, and his face glowed with relief. He slung the bag over his shoulder. The attendant he talked with said they could hold both bags for him at the gate until he was ready to board. He declined, likely not wanting to chance departing from the one he now held firmly. The other, however, he let the attendant check. Olivia gave a loud sigh of exasperation with the realization that he would have to go through the baggage claim process. Nigel did not acknowledge and maintained his conversation with the attendants regarding the business at hand. She was certain he had heard her.

She walked away again, this time slowly, as she talked to herself, although not out loud, about maintaining her patience. Within a few moments, he was by her side. Olivia, he defended, I couldin’ help what happin’. I’m sorry. I know you want ta see your friend.  He  grasped  her  hand  and