Jocelyn's River

Jocelyn's River: Chapter 11

        August 28th 1963 which was the day I turned seventeen, Martin Luther King Jr. delivered the most magnificent speech I had ever heard. He shared a dream with every person who felt disadvantaged due to segregation, and because he appeared on live television and told the world of this dream, it no longer felt impossible. Hope was heightened for all African Americans. We knew that God would set free a miracle very soon.

        The depraved white citizens of Waterloo were not at all impressed or inspired by Dr. King's dream. They held strong to the chains of the finality of our freedom. This very speech was one of the reason's we decided to remain in Waterloo and endure all that was to be endured by our separation from the privileges of the whites. I had begun my senior year of high school, and college was heavy on my mind. Chicago State University was my top choice. From the start, River's departure from my life was weighing down on me, but it took a toll on my grades. I had to reevaluate my priorities. Of course, I loved him, but I could not wait for him any longer. It was difficult to let it go. My mother reminded me that it takes time. Time was cruel; however, I knew very well that life would go on.

        As the school year went on, I visited Bryson's grave once a week. The approach of graduation was making me nervous, and I remembered how Bryson would also push me and tell me that I was too smart and I had to make something great of myself. He wanted the best for his little sister, and I wanted the best for him. Maybe he received it, for there is no better place than being able to stay in the presence of God in heaven.

        I needed God's blessings since I was on the verge of beginning a life on my own. A very important step of my life was drawing near and all I wanted was the courage to grow and move on from all that hindered and hurt me in Waterloo, Alabama. The one who hurt me never appeared on my doorstep as I dreamed he would. I never saw him, even after graduation. If he wanted me, he would make it known. If God wanted us to reunite, He would make it happen.

***

        My sophomore year of college was the year I had the hardest literature professor. I welcomed the challenge, nonetheless. Mr. Collier was arrogant, and sarcastic. He was not afraid to make his students feel less than smart. I was not particularly fond of the man, even if he was young and wore nice suits.

        "So you see ladies and gentlemen, the caged bird is Dunbar. The bird represents how we, the black people, are limited in our choices and our lives overall. Now, you are to write your essay on this piece of art. I do not want an analysis, Mr. Price. Last time you gave me a full description of what I already knew."

        Mr. Collier's eyes shot over to Harley Price who was sitting in the back of the classroom. Everyone looked back at him, except me.

        "Yes, sir," Harley replied in an ashamed manner.

        "Tell me something I don't know. I want to know your very own appeal to this poem. What does it evoke inside of you?"

        Harley raised his hand. Mr. Collier pointed to him.

        "Yes, Mr. Price," Mr. Collier said.

        "How long does this essay have to be?"

        Mr. Collier laughed and rubbed the small amount of hair on his chin. "I'll tell you one thing, most definitely not as short as the last one you gave me. Give me at least one thousand words people. Now, have a nice day."

        Chatter arose as everyone gathered their materials and headed out of the classroom.

        "Stay behind, Ms. Smith," Mr. Collier called. His voice sent a sudden chill down my spine. I did not want that.

        He walked behind his desk and poured himself a glass of water. He took a sip and our eyes met at that moment. I quickly looked away. When everyone was gone, he approached me.

        "You are amazing, Ms. Smith," he complimented me. "Your work astounds me. Your drive and emotion in your prose is unbelievable. I've never had a student who impressed me this much before. What's your secret?"

        I shrugged. "I am an avid reader, sir. I guess that's the foundation, Mr. Collier."

        "Please," he stopped me and held out his hand. "Outside of class, you may call me Stanley."

        I placed my hand in his and he placed his other one on top of it.

        "Thank you, Stanley," I responded with a polite smile.

        "I wish to ask you something, Ms. Smith. I hope it will not render this to be awkward."

        "What is it?" I inquired slowly as my heart began to speed in my chest.

        "I would like to ask you out for coffee on Saturday," he said without a flicker of hesitation. I was stunned by his request.

        His hands were in the pockets of his dress pants and his dark eyes were set on my face. He was not very tall man. He was taller than I was, of course. However, he could have been no more than 5'9".

        "I'm not so sure if that is appropriate. You are my professor," I expressed.

        "I assure you," he began. "It is not a date. I only want to discuss literature with you. Have you read To Kill a Mockingbird?"

        "I have," I nodded my head.

        He grinned. "Well then...let that be our focus."

        I saw right through him. His intentions were clear. He wanted more than my opinions of certain pieces of literature. It would not start out as a date, but it would end as one. I could not deny the attraction I felt to his intelligence. Nevertheless, I had been taught better than to agree to such shame.

        "I apologize, but I will have to decline on your offer," I stated firmly.

        "But...are you sure?"

        I presumed that he had never been turned down before.

        "Yes, I am quite sure," I told him. "I will see you on Monday, Mr. Collier." I turned and walked out of the door.

        This was not the end of his pursuit of me. Gradually, he pushed further and further. I had to admit that it was getting more and more difficult to conceal my adoration of his attempts. No other man had ever been so passionate and trying, at least not since River. And so began this newfound romance.