Dawn of Destiny

Chapter One: From the Beginning

James looked out from Patterson Tower across the lush green campus of the University of Kentucky. The blooming dogwoods, lining the walkway, already bustled with the typical traffic of students rushing to and fro. Some visiting as they walked, others reading a newspaper or book with the occasional glance upward not to bump into anyone or walk out into street traffic and still others marching to the pace set by the rhythm they heard in their head. He tried to imagine what the next weeks would hold for him. He too heard a rhythm that made his heart race at times and the excitement of his future prospects forced a smile to creep across his face. So much had happened over the course of four years and his pending graduation was both an end to one thing and the start of another. Professors from within the newly inaugurated hallow halls had been generous with letters of recommendation for him helping to produce more than one job offer that left his head spinning. His hard work was about to pay off in a way he often dreamt about yet only dared to believe of late.

As he picked up his satchel, he headed for the stairway past recent photographs commemorating the opening of Patterson Tower now recognized as the tallest building on U.K.’s campus. Slowly he walked down the flight of stairs into the lobby. As he stepped out of the shade of Patterson Tower, the morning sunshine blinded him momentarily. His eyes struggled to adjust, forcing him to reach for the sunglasses in the front pocket of his well-worn satchel that he carried religiously over the course of the last four years on campus. If the satchel could talk what stories it could tell from study sessions to frat parties to meeting the love of his life – a cliché no doubt but true none-the-less.

It seemed like it was just yesterday. James had just started his junior year on campus when she flipped his world upside down. He set his sights on fulfilling his goals without any distractions that might put his future plans into jeopardy at least until he ran into her, literally. It was September 8, 1966 and he was rushing from a study session with some classmates back to the house to watch a new science fiction show. Even though the television screen was a full 21" wide he knew that seats in the living room would be at a premium. The idea of outer space exploration always intrigued him. He knew there was more out there than just the moon and stars but it was so much to take in and digest. There had been a great deal of publicity surrounding the new NBC show Star Trek and he rarely allowed himself the luxury of a TV show but he decided to reward himself for the recent successes in more than one class. First, he was the lead researcher in his Econ group that scored the highest grade in class which earned him several handshakes from members of his group who recognized their own participation had been minimal as he had spearheaded the task from the beginning. Second, he threw the class curve off in his biology class which had been no small feat since biology was one of his most challenging classes known for the severity of exams produced by the department chair himself. Lastly, he got a letter from home filled with the latest gossip from the small rural community of Chimney Rock, North Carolina. He pulled it from his satchel and began to read it for the second time as he left the study session. It was the letter in part that caused all of the problems actually. He read the letter quickly on his way to class earlier in the day and was forced to set it aside to focus on the lecture on Management in the Modern Workforce. He was sure his mother exaggerated when she wrote about the excitement at the county fair or that he misread or misinterpreted her words so he was anxious to scourer back over what she wrote. He could hear his mother’s southern voice and see her animated face in his mind’s eye as his own jumped to the section on the fair and he re-read:

The row of pies was at least fifteen deep. Little pieces of paper written in the same handwriting, so the judges couldn’t tell one pie from the next (or one pie-maker to the next), told the type of pie to be sampled. All of the misses’ were there. Ms. Jane hovered nearby with the same tart expression as the rhubarb pie she had presented for inspection for the fifth year in a row. When will she realize that sugar is a must in that pie? Getting to watch the face of each judge as they sampled her pie and immediately regretted it has been the best part of the fair for the last several years.

We moved down toward the front so your grandmother could watch the faces of the judges. Your grandmother insisted on entering her mincemeat pie determined that this would be her year, so there we all stood waiting: Aunt Ellie, Jenny, your grandmother and me. Suddenly from out of nowhere, a wind blew from around the tent’s edge and sent all of the papers scattering out of the tent and into the sky. Ms. Brown went running after them because she had been the one in charge of the pie-tasting contest and it had been her fine handwriting displayed.

We all stood frozen like statues as the cloud of confetti spirited Ms. Brown to jump into the air with as much precision as her five foot two frame could manage when the unthinkable happened. Remember when I told you last week we were expecting a terrible storm? It was a dandy – almost washed all of the pumpkin seedlings down the hill. What a mess that was. Anyway, the fairgrounds were not missed by Mother Nature and George and the boys did their best to put straw everywhere but you know how the grounds were in the fair of ’64 and they were in worst shape this time. So here she was with one hand trying to keep her Sunday-best dress in place and the other grabbing at the flittering scraps when she lunged for one just out of her grasp as she tripped over the tent stake and down she went – you guessed it – right into a pile of mud-covered straw that smelled like something other than mud if you know what I mean. I tried to cover my mouth as quickly as I could dear, really I did, and tried to plaster a look of utter shock on my face, but you know Jenny – she hooted and slapped her leg like a bee was stinging it and then your grandmother had to join in much to your Aunt Ellie’s horror. I did my best to calm the both of them as the tragedy played out in front of our eyes. It was as if the world slipped into slow motion-mode. Mr. Brown scrambled to get to his wife but bumped into one of the judges who lost his balance and grabbed for the closest object to help stop his fall which unfortunately was the tablecloth that Ms. Brown had draped with precision over the pie-table holding all of the delicacies and Ms. Jane’s dreadful rhubarb pile, I meant pie, and by now you should know the rest. All of the pies jetted off the table toward the judge and his co-judges as they had grabbed for him and then tried to save the tumbling pies. Aunt Ellie turned her attention away from the now bawling Ms. Jane and directed it at the judges’ show. I am embarrassed to admit that I found myself laughing so hard that tears started . . .

It was at this moment that James bumped into something that was obviously smaller and lighter than his over six foot, one hundred and seventy-five pound frame. He tore his eyes from the letter in fear for the condition of the child on the ground at his feet, shoving the momentarily forgotten letter in his pocket. The sudden urge to slap his own leg and laugh aloud vanished as that child looked up at him with daggered-eyes that stiffened his spine and dropped his hand to his side.

Are you just going to stand there gawking at me like a float in a parade? she demanded as she evolved from a child to a beautiful, yet slightly enraged, young woman who was now on her knees reaching for the various spilled items to return to a purse she was clutching with distress. It was then that he noticed how the strap was no longer attached to the purse and determined this might be part of her distress and he was to blame no doubt. James had mistaken her age based on the ease he had in causing her to sprawl at his feet.

I am very sorry miss. I was just . . . he tried to explain.

Never mind what you were doing. She tossed the objects randomly into the purse with the broken strap with an air of disgust that quickly turned to sadness. You ruined my purse. She brushed the leaves from her backside as she stood and looked up at him.

I will be glad to purchase you another one. Here let me help . . . he tried to brush away the leaves stubbornly clinging to her just like he would have done his sister when her slight gasp and wide eyes forced him to realize the impropriety of the action and again he dropped his hand to his side powerless to rectify his deed. James found himself looking down into a pair of beautiful blue eyes and was at an absolute loss as to what to say or do next.

I have it thank you. She picked the tube of lipstick up and brushed away the dead grass from it.

He made another attempt at an apology, I am sorry miss - . . .

Bettie Lou.

Like the Beach Boys tried? he asked trying to lighten her mood.

What? She asked as she couldn’t seem to follow his train of thought as her own were racing around in circles. She wasn’t typically so testy but she wasn’t accustomed to being trampled either. She was further puzzled as he broke into song.

You know from Barbara Ann – ‘Tried Bettie Sue. Tried Bettie Lou.’ He could tell from her expression that his rendition did not do justice to the Beach Boys so he decided to shut his mouth before he made matters worse; except, in doing so he was left standing there feeling ridiculous as she looked at him like he might be from outer space.

How about we just go our separate ways and pretend this never happened. She lied when she said, It isn’t that big of a deal really so no harm is done. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going so it was as much my fault as yours. She felt a small smile easing away the frown that she had been warned would cause premature wrinkles on her forehead. Her breathing normalized as a feeling of calm settled over her. She regained her composure and acted more like herself than a crazy woman who had just overreacted to what he most likely saw as a trivial event.

Please let me try to fix this. I was reading a letter from home and wasn’t paying attention. It is the least I can do. James opened his satchel and pulled out a notepad and pen. If you give me your address I will be glad to pay reparations for the damage I have caused.

She took the pen and notepad he offered. Home huh? She not only listed the address to the sorority house but the phone number as well before handing the notepad back to him. Their fingers touched for the briefest of seconds and she almost dropped the pen like the proverbial hot potato. She felt a flush from her throat to the tips of her blond hair and didn’t dare try to meet his stare.

James recognized the blush as one similar to those he could easily evoke in his young sister when he would tease her about imaginary boyfriends. This newly added color enhanced her already beautiful features. He tore the top sheet from the notepad and stuck it in his pocket before stretching his hand out in a gesture of friendship and said, I will contact you then about replacing your purse. They joined hands in a brief promenade that put both of them back on track to their individual destinations. She only nodded then turned away quickly disappearing beyond his view around the bushes.

Once she knew he could no longer see her, what she had done finally started to sink in. She didn’t feel his eyes exploring her backside anymore so she took a chance and looked over her shoulder and he was nowhere around. She had just given him her address. She didn’t even know his name yet he knew her name, her phone number, and where she lived. She had broken every vow she had ever made to her father in regards to what not to do when she met a stranger, especially such a handsome stranger. She was shocked at how easily she disclosed such personal information. She tried to console herself because her gut did not warn her that he was a crazy person – just a guy who read letters from home. She liked that idea as she walked at a slower pace toward the sorority house with her broken purse tucked under her arm. How would she ever explain to her house sisters what had just happened?

James finally turned back toward the frat house as he tightened the grip on his satchel. He couldn’t help but remember the cute little swing her hips had made as she rushed away from him. Even though her frame was tinier than his sister’s his thoughts were far from brotherly. Focus he told himself. He had avoided female distractions successfully all throughout his freshman and sophomore years and he couldn’t allow himself to lose focus now. The plans for his future would not only help him in the future, but his whole family back at home in North Carolina as well. He slid his hand in his pocket where his fingers caressed the piece of paper that would ultimately alter his destiny and all focus left his mind as he climbed the stairs to the frat house amongst the sounds of revelry from the living room. The show must have been a hit with the crowd. He thought as he turned away from the ruckus and headed to his room. He found himself remembering her eyes, the sound of her voice, the look of outrage that softened yet warned it could resurface if adequately provoked, and he wanted to provoke it and to provoke other emotions as well. He left his satchel on his bed and went back downstairs to stand in front of the phone on the desk. His hand reached for the receiver while his other hand pulled the note from his pocket. He dialed the first number and caught his breath as the dial slowly circled back, Rule number one he thought never act desperate. He hung up the phone and stepped back from it.

In need of a distraction, he went into the noisy room to lose his thoughts in the discussions that were ensuing. Some apparently liked the show more than others. Something about laser-tasers and cordless talking contraptions that were totally unrealistic momentarily distracted his mind, but then a commercial came on for Coca-Cola with Anita Bryant explaining the different sizes available for any occasion. I wonder if she likes Coke. He found himself pondering. Good grief just go pick up the phone and call her. He chastised himself for the hesitation as he walked back to the phone but found it already occupied by Harold in a deep conversation with girlfriend number eighty-four for the month. James stopped trying to learn their names. He suddenly realized he was growing impatient as Harold explained why he had been sitting with the future girl number eighty-five when the current love of his life had walked in the library with some of her girlfriends. James had an incredible urge to grab the receiver and tell her the truth about the man she thought hung the moon. Harold was one of his best friends and James tended to live vicariously through the exploits that Harold would share with him. Harold believed in sampling the fruits of the vine before settling on just any old bottle of wine, he joked. Breakups tended to be much harder on the girls than on Harold and James was often a shoulder for them to cry on as he sometimes broke the news of their impending heartbreak.

Wow! That didn’t go well at all. Harold explained as he put the receiver back on the phone.

You should be used to that by now. James didn’t really want to hear about it. He wanted Harold to go away so he could make a call.

You want to go play a game of pool? Amazing resiliency James thought at Harold’s invitation.

Not this evening. I have to call someone about our class project. If James had told Harold he was about to call a girl he would have hovered nearby making goofy faces at him.

What class project? Harold was always fearful he might have missed a due date as he tended to get distracted in class sometimes by the different sights and sounds of the female persuasion.

One from a class you aren’t in this semester. James hoped Harold would get bored and leave him alone.

I am in all of your classes. Remember I did that on purpose so I would have a tutor handy? Harold needed to maintain his grade point average to stay eligible for the team and he was smart enough to know that James was the best in the house.

All right Harold. I ran into a girl and now I am going to call her as soon as you walk away.

A girl? You? What about your rules? No female distractions remember?

Yes I remember. This is just a phone call to apologize for running into her and breaking her strap.

You broke a girl’s bra strap – do tell.

"Harold please. Why would you jump to the conclusion that if a strap was broken it would naturally be a bra strap?

What else could it be?

It was her purse strap if you must know. I will tell you the details as soon as I am off the phone.

Okay but don’t keep me waiting long. A bra strap would make for a better story I bet. Harold walked away backwards hoping to hear part of the conversation but James refused to dial until Harold was out of hearing range. He dialed the phone but didn’t have time to come up with the reason for his call when a female voice answered.

Hello. A pleasant voice announced.

Uh hello. This was all James could say.

May I ask who you are calling? The pleasant voice asked.

Uh Bettie Sue. He had wanted to say Bettie Lou but he hadn’t formulated a reason for calling yet so decided it best to say a different name, expecting to hear sorry wrong number but instead he heard, Who may I say is calling?

Uh Harold. It was all he could think of on the spur of the moment.

Hold on a minute while I get her for you. With that said, James could hear the voice in the distance calling for Bettie Sue as his palms started to sweat. What were the odds that a Bettie Sue lived in the same house as Bettie Lou?

Hello? The female voice asked.

Yes Bettie Sue this is Harold from biology class and I heard you take good notes and I was wondering if I could get a copy. James had huge butterflies flittering around his belly and he felt sixteen all over again as he found himself afraid to have a simple conversation with a girl.

Harold I am sorry to tell you this but you must have the wrong girl. I am not in biology this semester but hold on I know someone who can help you. He heard the phone being set down before he could say – nevermind.

Hello Harold? This is Bettie Lou and Bettie Sue told be you needed a copy of some biology notes. I am not in biology anymore but I always keep my notes just in case of an emergency. James heard her explaining something to Harold and he was lost in the lilt of her voice. He was talking to her without saying a word until she asked, So where should we meet?

Huh?

To let you borrow my notes. She sounded like she was growing impatient and he wondered if she was making that cute little frown on her forehead that he had noticed earlier that evening.

Library work for you? It was safe there and surely Harold would do him the small favor.

Sure that is fine. When?

Tomorrow about nine? James tossed out.

Nine is no good because I will be in my Calc II class. Eleven fifteen would be better. James was struck by the idea of a woman in Calculus II. He was probably a little old-fashioned he realized. His sister would have immediately asked why he would be so shocked at the idea of a woman in an advanced math class and would have thrown her hands in the air as she rambled on about how smart women were and men would someday rue the day they took women for granted.

Not a good time for you? She asked.

No I was just running my schedule through my head real quick and eleven fifteen will work just fine. See you then. He started to hang up and to pretend this predicament had not happened.

Wait – how will I know how to find you? She asked with a little laugh. He liked the sound of her laugh.

I will find you.

How will you find me? Good question he realized.

I will look for the girl standing in the library with biology notes or you could be wearing a flower in your hair or something. He suggested.

Lovely idea I am sure, but you can find me on the second floor in the reference section. I have a research paper I am working on so I will be at a table in the corner near the windows. I seem to always have the table to myself so it is a safe bet you will find me with little difficulty. How will I know it is you? Another good question he thought.

I am tall, blond, and good-looking. He described Harold without thinking about how it sounded.

Okay then. I will see you tomorrow in the library on the second floor Harold. Goodbye. She sounded a bit put off by his description of himself but as he thought about it that was probably how Harold would have described himself. He wasn’t the least bit unsure of himself unlike how James felt at that moment.

Goodbye then. Click the phone line was disconnected and James scrambled to find Harold and to work out the details for tomorrow. James knew this one would cost him dearly but somehow he knew it would be worth it.

~~~~~

Chapter Two: What Are Friends For Anyway?

Bettie Lou walked away from the hall phone with an odd feeling that she had met Harold somewhere before. She tried to gain a mental picture of him realizing he certainly thought highly of himself. He probably had a dozen girls lined up ready to fall at his feet. Guys like that rarely sparked her attention, yet something about his voice had her intrigued and looking forward to eleven fifteen in the morning. She went to her room, turned on the lamp next to her bed, and pulled out her journal from the drawer of her nightstand before plopping on her bed. She kicked off her shoes, leaned back against the headboard, and slid down onto her pillow. With pen in hand she wrote,

So my day went from good, to bad, and ended in weird. I started out getting the highest grade in my Econ class, on that test from the devil himself, so my day was progressing in an upward motion. Then on my way home from the library – minding my own business – boom knocked on my butt. Some Mystery Man bulldozed me into the grass. Grass stains on my rear and my purse strap was ripped from my shoulder spilling everything out. I am pretty sure smoke puffed out my ears. I wanted to be mad, but something about Mystery Man stopped me. Probably the fact that he was reading a letter from home when he ran me over softened the sting to my ego. I would give anything for a letter from home. From you telling me you are okay, that Daddy is okay, and that I will be okay. I would settle for okay even though Daddy always told me never to settle for anything but the best – the best for his baby. I digress. So I went from outrage to intrigue because of the letter from home story and those eyes that seemed to look right into me, as if they were asking the questions that his mouth couldn’t formulate. Like a goof I gave him my number so he could fix my purse strap, but honestly I guess I was hoping he had ulterior motives for asking for my number. Here is where it gets weird though. The phone rings and Bettie Sue yells for me to take the phone and talk to some guy named Harold on the other end about some notes for biology. Except the little hairs on my neck stood up as I listened to his voice. I was sure that it was Mystery Man until he said his name was Harold and he described himself as blond and good-looking, certainly not my tall, dark, and handsome Mystery Man. And yet I am not convinced. Weird huh? Yeh that is what I thought. So the plan is to meet in the library and I will see once and for all. Morning comes early and I have a little homework left to do.

Until we meet again – Love You!

Across campus, James ran up the stairs two at a time stopping at the doorway of each bedroom in search of Harold who was nowhere to be found. James asked each and every brother he came across if he might know where Harold might be, but no one had a clear answer. Suddenly he heard the recognizable thud sound that sent him heading straight for the backyard where he knew he would find Harold shooting hoops. James was winded as he walked out into the night air.

I have been looking all over for you. James told Harold as he narrowly caught the speeding basketball Harold tossed at him.

You found me so tell me about the girl you ran into – shoot. Harold stood ready to rebound the ball but James made no attempt to shoot it.

First – have I ever asked you for anything? James didn’t give Harold the opportunity to answer before he added, No I haven’t, but I am going to ask now.

What you need I got – shoot. Harold said pointing at the rim.

I need you to meet a girl for me and pretend to need a copy of her biology notes for me.

You need me to meet a girl for you? Done. Harold said with a grin that said even more and again pointed at the goal.

No not meet a girl like getting to know her, but pickup something for a friend from someone who happens to be a girl. James hoped that would all the explaining he would have to do as he lobbed the ball toward the goal with lackluster effort.

You know you take the best notes in town so what are you up to Jimmy? Harold asked, rebounding the ball easily and immediately doing a layup for an additional two points. Only Harold had ever called him Jimmy. James’s father was also named James so his parents often called him Junior but never Jimmy.

Okay I ran into this girl named Bettie Lou on my way home this evening and I literally knocked her down.

Bra-strap girl on the ground? He interrupted.

Yes on the ground, but it was her purse strap I broke in the process. So I was trying to find a way to set up an opportunity to make it up to her but when I called her sorority house I was unable to formulate an intelligent conversation so I pretended to be you.

I probably should be offended in some way by that, but I am still with you. So you need me to meet her for some notes and then what? Is she cute?

Cute has nothing to do with it. You are to get in and get out preferably with your eyes closed and with none of your manly ooze stuff you do. James looked at Harold with pleading eyes.

Manly ooze stuff? Oh she is cute all right. Harold grinned and dribbled a circle around James.

I am serious Harold. Are you in or do I need to find someone to pretend to be you pretending to be someone pretending to need biology notes? James’s patience was running out.

I am with you so don’t get your feathers ruffled. Harold couldn’t help but chuckle at his buddy. He had never seen James rattled even once in the time they had known one another so he could only imagine what the young lady might look like. Harold admired his friend’s resiliency when it came to the female persuasion. James had had numerous opportunities from some very fine female acquaintances that he had chosen to dismiss as ‘future fun’ after the prize had been won. Harold, on-the-other-hand, was born with the proverbial spoon and never fully understood the whole eyes on the prize attitude but he knew that James was serious about his priorities and learned early on that he shouldn’t try to change them.

She set a time for eleven fifteen tomorrow on the second floor of the library in the back corner by the research materials. I will go along with you to make sure you find her, but I will stay out of sight, well at least out of her sight.

You don’t trust me with your lady? Harold teased.

She is not my lady Harold. I have tried to explain that I need to make up for breaking her purse and it was a bad idea to try to do it from the phone is all. James tried to convince Harold aloud but it was really himself he was trying to convince.

So I just walk up and say my name is Harold and ask her for some notes?

Yes. Simple. It shouldn’t take but a minute and it wouldn’t really hurt you to become familiar with the library. Do I need to draw you a map? James teased.

Very funny. Why do I need the library when I have my own walking encyclopedia? Do you plan to ask her out? Harold probed as he continued shooting hoops.

What? No, I mean that is not the goal. I just feel bad is all. James knew he was not going to convince Harold who stopped dribbling and was staring at him with a knowing smirk on his face. Okay maybe I would like to ask her out just as a little diversion because I am not looking for a girlfriend or anything. We don’t need to worry about any of that right now.

Who is worried? You need to relax. I haven’t seen you this upset since that big research project you were working on a couple of weeks back and you were a nutcase then so I suggest you trust me to romance the lady and you can keep your eyes glued to the prize. Harold bounce-passed the ball to James knowing he had gotten under his skin.

Let’s go over the ground rules one more time: one – no romance and two – no romance. Got it? A subtle tone in James’s voice made Harold back off the teasing.

I think I got it. So where is this thing you call a library?

~~~~~

Chapter Three: Operation Harold

Bettie Lou yawned as the morning sunlight draped the bottom half of her twin-size bedspread. She rolled onto her back and stretched her arms over her head as a smile crept across her face. She had a good feeling about the prospects of the day. She stayed in that position for less than a minute and pounced from the comforts of her bed to her half of the closet she shared with her sorority sister Francine – Frankie to her. Bettie Lou shuffled hangers left from right and back to the left without selecting the right outfit. The hangers scraped across the closet rod until Francine hollered, Okay I am up already.

Sorry Frankie. I can’t find anything to wear. Bettie Lou explained as she pulled out a paisley blouse that she knew looked cute on her.

Since when do you labor over what to wear to class? Francine asked as she sat up in bed, trying to smooth the blond curls she felt springing up all over her head.

Bettie Lou flopped herself across the