The Chosen One, page 21
“I walked right up to him,” Keli says, “stood in his face, and said, ‘Talk to me, Earnell Jackson. This is ridiculous.’ He grabbed his tray and went right around me as if I wasn’t even there. You broke that boy’s heart. More than that, his spirit.”
I can’t be blamed for Earnell’s despair. I know from my own experience: The wound of not feeling good enough was already there. Others can only prick what already lurks inside. Maybe that’s why self-love is so important? Then no matter what happens to you, there is an inexhaustible well of contentment inside, like how I felt after meeting my higher self. The fountain of life is within you. I remember Professor Nielson’s wise message while packing the last of my items into a duffel bag.
Manda Panda says she wouldn’t be caught dead doing an activity that is an “obvious attempt to force us to bond.” She also didn’t go on the hiking trip. I don’t know if Alex is going. I hope he isn’t.
When I arrive at the meeting spot, I expect to see hundreds of people, but there are only two buses for all of us, which means about sixty (out of one thousand) students are attending. Having it right before finals, which are a week and a half away, is not appealing for most. If they had it after exams, they’d still lose since students start leaving campus right after they finish. I guess there’s no optimal time for end-of-year bonding.
I suddenly feel nervous. This is the first time I’m going on a class-wide event without knowing anyone. Freddy is not here to ward off potential murderous racists. Keli, Gabby, and Earnell are not here to keep me laughing. I look around the bus at all the unfamiliar white faces. I hope they accept me, I think to myself. I remember my earlier thoughts on self-love and change my mind. It doesn’t matter what they think of me. I accept me. Well, parts of me. Most of me. Close enough, I guess. Progress, not perfection. The Defiance applauds my growth. Bitch, you betta werk. Stunt on your haters.
The road unfolds before us, just like on the hiking trip. Nature and her raw vulnerability come to greet me once more. Out here there are no masks, hiding, or pretending. Just the truth of what a thing is in its natural form. The windows are down since late April has continued to bless us with balmy spring weather. Sunshine and fresh air for miles. I inhale deeply, turning to my neighbor. “Smells good, doesn’t it?” He smiles—a wry, Grapes of Wrath looking fellow—and says, “It sure does. Nature’s intoxicating scent.” I understand exactly what he means and realize I’ve been in New Hampshire for too long. I could never say things like this a year earlier in Cleveland.
The retreat center is an hour away from campus, deep in the woods. I’ve been through this once and am not afraid to be so far into nature, even without Freddy. I make my way to my assigned room, where four bunk beds await. No one else has arrived yet, so I test each bed to see which one I like the most. I decide on the bottom bunk farthest from the bathroom. I lie on the bed waiting for my bunkmates to arrive. It doesn’t matter whether they accept me or not, I remind myself.
The first person to walk in is a Black girl from Georgia named Myesha. Even though I’ve met most Black students on campus—there aren’t that many of us—there are still some I don’t know. I can tell right away Myesha is sweet and shy but happy to see another Black face. Daniel McCullum walks in next.
“You have got to be kidding me,” he says. “Have they really put all the negroes together again?” He begins to unpack while shaking his head in disapproval.
“Sorry about that,” he continues. “Where’s my manners? How y’all doin’? Echo, what’s up, girl? How you been?”
Before I have a chance to respond, Earnell walks in, sees me, turns around, and says, “Oh no. They gon’ have to change my room. No. Definitely not.”
I run after him.
“Earnell! Earnell, come on. You can’t avoid me forever. I’m sorry.”
He ignores me and races to one of the chaperones to request a change. The chaperone spins around, dropping his clipboard. As soon as he exclaims “Goddamnit,” I know who it is.
“Connor! Come on, this is ridiculous, don’t let him bully you into moving him for no reason.”
Earnell and I both talk at the same time.
“I demand to be relocated immediately. I have a right to free speech and the power of choice, I learned that at the Dartmouth Beacon meeting. I cannot be bunkmates with this woman.”
Connor stands in stunned silence watching us argue back and forth.
“But aren’t you guys best friends?”
“Yea, well, things change,” Earnell remarks snidely.
“Look, I have a ton to do. I don’t have time for this. We had someone drop out in room 323. You can move there.”
“Thank you,” Earnell barks before storming off.
“What’s gotten into him?” asks Connor.
“You don’t want to know.”
“How’ve you been, buddy? I haven’t seen you since last semester when you were standing on those stairs like a warrior princess. I wish I had taken a picture.”
Just as I’m about to answer, out of the corner of my eye, I catch something that my mind refuses to accept. Couldn’t be, I think to myself. There’s no way he’s a chaperone here also. I’m afraid to look. I stand in the lobby as students file in and head to their rooms. It can’t be. I’m just being paranoid. I relax and turn to look toward the door. It is.
“Oh my God. I have to run, Connor. Nice to see you! Bye!”
I race back to my room and sit on the bed. Is this purgatory? Have I died and gone to hell? Earnell AND Bryce are here. Darth is definitely riding again. Why didn’t the portal warn me about this oncoming malarkey! I’m sweating, breathing hard, clutching my imaginary pearls, saying aloud repeatedly, “Oh my God.”
“Are you OK, girl?” Myesha asks.
“What if your worst nightmare walked through the door and you can’t leave for two days! I’m going to die. Are there drugs anywhere? Do either of you have any drugs?!”
“This is not that kind of trip,” Daniel responds. “I mean that could be nice, but imagine the lawsuits. Dartmouth would be bankrupt in a year.”
The name of this retreat is Building Community: Enriching the First-Year Experience. The workshop leader, Kurt Rushbrook, is a renowned connection coach who travels the world leading these kinds of events. He’s a tall, gray-haired white man, with big hands and boots. He looks more like a park ranger than a guru. I can tell by the look in his eyes he’s going to make us do all sorts of things we are resistant to. I prepare myself for more discomfort.
After we’ve all checked in, we gather in the main hall, which is big enough to hold two hundred people. Mats, cushions, and blankets have been set up around the room. I wait for everyone to wander in before peeking to see if Bryce is here. I don’t see him (or Earnell) and choose a cushion in the back of the room. I’m relieved at how easy it is to avoid them in a group of sixty.
Kurt Rushbrook is giving an opening talk tonight, then we’ll have dinner, but most of our activities will happen tomorrow. I scan the room in paranoia. Still no sign of Bryce, who is probably here as a chaperone. I sit with my arms wrapped around my legs, rocking back and forth, scanning. I must look ridiculous, but I don’t care. I can’t risk accidentally sitting next to him. Someone suddenly bumps my shoulder. I shriek in shock. Kurt stops his talk to ask if everything is all right in the back of the room, prompting everyone to turn around and look at me. “There’s more space up here,” he says.
“It’s fine. Nothing wrong back here. Carry on,” I say in almost a whisper, putting my hands up to shield my blushing face. The Joker is definitely playing tricks again, I think to myself.
“This weekend will reveal the power of human connection in ways many of you haven’t experienced,” Kurt says. “We are taught as children to run from each other. Keep out the bad strangers. So we build walls, but those barriers also trap us. Over the next two days, we’ll see what’s behind those walls. You will be shocked at the beauty of each other’s humanity.”
I know all about barriers and walls, but I will never be able to unmask myself here. If anything, I reinforce my protections, preparing to stay hidden as long as possible. After Kurt finishes his talk, I race back to my room, the safe zone free from both Earnell and Bryce. I sit on the bed pondering my situation. What good is it being a Chosen One if supernatural forces can’t prevent this drama? I shake my head.
Everyone is in the dining hall. I’m starving but consider skipping dinner altogether. I’ve never been able to deny my hunger, so this won’t be easy. My stomach growls. I try to give myself a pep talk. The Defiance fills my head with courage. He’s just a regular person, you feel me? Bitch, don’t give him your power. Forget that undeserving lost sheep, hah, you are the prize.
“Yea, that’s right!” I say, rising from my bed. “I’m the prize!” I leap toward the cafeteria with newfound determination.
I peek in, still no sign. I breathe a sigh of relief. Then, like a Shakespearean tragedy, he appears right in front of me, holding a clipboard. He’s checking people in and sending them to their assigned tables. “Echo!” he yells in glee. “It’s so great to see you! I didn’t know if you were gonna come or not. Really killer you’re here. I hope to see you tomorrow during some of the activities.”
There is no hint that he has been carrying the same burden as me. He has moved on with his life, the situation between us an afterthought. I alone am carrying it. Is this how Earnell feels? I smile uneasily. “Yea, see you around,” I say before awkwardly walking to my table, which is full of unfamiliar faces, luckily. We smile, we eat, we give a summary of our background. All while feasting on baked chicken breast, mashed potatoes, and string beans. It’s so delicious, I forget the higher-class codes of conduct and lick my fingers. I look down at my protruding belly, proud of the haul.
I scram back to my room while everyone makes polite conversation over dessert. Tonight, they are serving apple pie and vanilla ice cream. I don’t love most sweets, so I don’t feel like I’m missing out.
When I return to the comfort of my room, I exhale, finally. Shakespeare was right. The gods or the Keepers or whoever’s in charge love playing with us. “All the world’s a stage.” I’m the fool trapped in the spotlight right now. I turn off the lights and pull the covers up to my neck. For the first time in my life, the darkness is my friend, shielding me from the reality of my current situation. I try to force myself to sleep and find refuge in the limitless dreamworld. Any dream will be better than this. Even a nightmare, since I know it’ll be over by morning. When do you wake up from life, though?
The retreat has turned into a game of hide with no seek. Any time I catch a glimpse of Bryce or Earnell, I duck behind the nearest object.
“What on earth are you doing?” Connor says, catching me standing behind a large, broad-leaved plant. “You’ve been jittery since yesterday. Is everything OK? Do you think you might have a problem with alcohol? I mean after that night at Professor Alexander-Grant’s, I wondered if that might have been a red flag or something.”
“What? No. That was just a mistake. I was going through something. Now leave me alone, Connor. I’m trying to be one with this plant. I’ll clap. I’ll do it. Don’t force my hands.”
“Whoa, whoa. No need to be cruel. I just wanted to ask one more thing, then I promise I won’t bother you for the rest of the weekend. I was wondering if you might be interested in leading one of the first-year hiking trips next year. I think you’d be great. You’re so thoughtful and would really look after people.”
“Me taking an entire group of students into the woods alone? I’ll pass,” I say while peeking anxiously through the leaves of the plant.
“Just think about it, OK? You might be surprised at how much you have to give.”
The rest of the day is full of icebreaker activities designed for us to get to know each other. I feel closer to everyone I’ve met, even though we’ve only exchanged superficial information about ourselves so far. The mood shifts when we get to the final activity of the evening.
“Now we’ve come to the main event,” Kurt says. “Eye gazing.”
“What the fuck?” I say out loud before covering my mouth with both my hands.
“This is a powerful activity,” he continues. “We so rarely stop and take the time to see each other’s humanity. Really witness. If we did, we wouldn’t create this kind of world of competition, strife, and turmoil. It’s because we don’t see that we abuse and harm one another. That ends tonight. In a moment, I’m going to ask you to close your eyes. Some of the chaperones will make their way around the room and mix you up a bit. The goal is to sit with a stranger, but if you end up in front of someone you do know, that’s OK. Maybe you have unfinished business. The more open you are, the more impactful this exercise will be. All weekend we’ve been slowly unmasking to get to this point.”
The fear in the room is palpable. None of us wants to look at each other. We are afraid not of witnessing but of being seen. Fearful the other might see the parts of ourselves we don’t like. Seeing myself for the first time in theater class was hard enough—this is excruciating.
I prepare for a battle. Put up all the shields! Man the oars! Prepare for incoming! I tell my defenses, but something in me shifts. Am I going to hide my entire life? The thought pounces on me like a hyena on prey. I am not the same as I was before I got here. I stood on the brink of defeat and returned. I have traveled to the other realm and healed my family lineage. I have met the highest version of myself and still carry her wisdom within. I am magic, supernatural, and unstoppable. Maybe I deserve to be seen. Maybe you can’t let people love you if they never really see you. The real you. Until then, they just love what you are projecting. The realization floors me. Have I ever not projected a false self in the presence of others? Have I gone unseen my entire life?
A sadness washes over me. I didn’t intend for things to be like this. I don’t want to spend my life hiding. I submit to the vulnerability of the task. No more resistance. I am what I am and that will always be true, no matter how many masks I wear. I take a deep breath and close my eyes. “Do your worst,” I say to the gods.
The chaperones begin mixing us. Moving some here and others there. Unless you are peeking, no one knows who will land in front of them. I am in total acceptance of every outcome. Is this what Dean Harrison experiences all the time? I know this peace will not last so I try to revel in it, roll around in the gardens of inner contentment.
Then the shuffle is done and the moment of truth arrives. Who will I see when I open my eyes? I’m unsure, but I know what they will find. The real me. The curtain drops. The barking guard dogs yield. I am revealed. I open my eyes, and of course, the gods have given the absolute worst possibility, Bryce.
“So there you are,” I say.
“Here I am.”
Attraction compels us like magnets. I try to turn it off, but just like I couldn’t turn it on for Earnell, I can’t shut it down in this moment. It aches. He is so beautiful. His curly blond hair pulled up into a bun again. The softness of his spirit shining so bright. I can’t stop smiling.
Our task is to sit in silence for five minutes doing nothing but looking into this person’s eyes. “Much more can be seen without the words,” Kurt says.
At first, they are just eyes. Light green and soft. He smiles. He knows I am seeing. Then, a force takes over us both. An opening. A doorway into the being of another living creature. An exquisite feast of emotion. Maybe all of them. Sorrow, joy, and so much vulnerability. The inside of him exposed. Pleading with me to come and save him. At the core, the desire for love. He wants it too.
Tears roll down both our cheeks. When the moment is too much, we look away, but return again to soak in more of the living presence in front of us. Then it’s over, but I don’t want to leave. I don’t want another partner. I want him. Like the sun in the east, she rises, my hope. Any signs of new life set it on fire. I am burning.
He leans over and gives me a hug, holding on even after it’s time to let go. Something about it feels final, despite the beauty of our previous moment. “I’m sorry,” he says. “That I can’t be brave.” Then he is gone, on to his next partner. Me: left sitting in a pile of my own ashes, again.
When I open my eyes for round two, I am not surprised to see Earnell. The gods really want chaos. I expect him to dart again, but he remains, also a pile of ashes in my presence, having been softened by his previous partner.
“I’ve missed you,” he says.
“I missed you too. I’m sorry. I don’t know why it’s like this.”
We begin the exercise. I’ve known Earnell since the beginning of the school year, but I’ve never seen him like this. In raw form. Behind all the humor and antics, a tender soul. The jokes just a mask to keep it protected.
His eyes drop. He knows he’s been seen. When they return, tearful at the gift of being witnessed, finally. A weight lifted. He can stop hiding, at least for a little while.
There are no words, but some part of him asks for something I don’t know I can give yet, until it happens. The light comes on in my own heart center. It moves up to the middle of my forehead and spins. A presence—not my own—inside with words to deliver to Earnell.
“It’s not your fault, lil bro,” it says through me. “Let it go. We’ll always have Tybee.”
The light moves on. Earnell looks just as perplexed as me.
“How do you know about Tybee?” he asks confusedly.
“I don’t know.”
He swims deep down to the bottom of his thoughts.
“That was the last time we had together before it happened. We stayed out there talking all day. About life, the future. It took us almost four hours to get to Tybee Beach from Atlanta, but we didn’t care. We just wanted to sit in front of the ocean. We buried it, our time capsule, just as the sun was setting. I put in a letter to my future self and my favorite Power Ranger action figure, the red one. I don’t know what he wrote in his letter, but he put in the black Power Ranger. We used to play fight with them when we were kids. We buried our treasures and said we would dig it up in twenty-five years. Sixteen more before I can go back, without him.”
