Memories

 Today a memory came back I hadn't thought of much in 40 years. In fact, the event happened when I was 16, just before I turned 17. I don't think I've mentioned it but once in 53 years. 

I used to sing with three other girls in my church. One of those was the piano player. I was the oldest. I wouldn't call us great friends, but we were church friends. Meaning we got along well enough to sing together. Our church was a small town church of about 60 people and mosts of them were over 50. So our experience didn't matter, but we did all right for teenagers. We weren't the Lennon sisters. And if you don't know who that is, you can look it up. 

Vicky, our piano player, was the youngest at about 13. She played for the whole service, so she was adequate. She played by ear and was pretty good for her age. Diane and her sister, the other Vicky, were close to my age but still younger by a couple of years. Then there was me. I don't know how it started, but we were a "group" and became popular at church. Well, the older ladies loved us. 

One day in 1972 or 73, a young man showed up at our church. Johnnie was his name. He was in his early 20s, but we noticed he could sing well. And he could sing harmony. So, Johnnie began to sing with us. We liked it. We liked him. Everyone liked him. 

Look, it was a small town church with very few men at all. There were no young couples. Most of the youth came with grandparents, and there were fewer than a dozen of us. I dated the only two boys in the church. One I won't mention, he was the first. The second was Johnnie. 

Yes. He was older than me. But my mama trusted church boys. Everyone liked Johnnie, and he was faithful. So, I could go skating with him. 

Let me be clear here. At no point did I or any of the other girls think of Johnnie as anything other than a friend. He was too old for us. He wasn't very attractive. And he had poor dental hygiene. Had Johnnie attempted to kiss me, I'd have puked on him. 

We went skating on a Friday night. I rarely got to go out because, well, no boyfriend. I was a Pentecostal girl in a town of about 10,000. It wasn't likely to happen. It eventually did, but that's another story already posted here somewhere.  

But we went out. I was nervous because I didn't know why he'd asked me. I was concerned that he was thinking of me as more than a church friend. Still, we had a good time, and I was relieved when we got home.

He missed church that Sunday, but we weren't worried. The next Sunday I asked one girl if they had heard from Johnnie. One of them had, in fact, heard from him. 

Brace yourself. 

Johnnie got married the previous weekend. The same weekend he was out skating with me. 

I laughed when they told me and told them about the date. No one could believe it, but they knew me. We knew next to nothing of him. We didn't even know he had an actual girlfriend. He'd never told anyone, nor had he brought her to church. 

Why am I telling this? 

I do not know. 

Why did I remember it? I think there is a reason, but I'm not sure. Sometimes I know things, but from the back door, not the front. Meaning, I won't get it until it reveals itself as true. 

Is that mysterious enough for you?

Thought so.

At any rate, today when that memory came up, so did the word "placeholder".  I understood that. Johnnie couldn't go out with the girlfriend on Friday because they were getting married. But he had a friend he could do something with that weekend. Me. We were friends. We attended the same church and talked, and I wasn't interested in him any other way. But I became something a bit more important that weekend. A placeholder. 

And just like that, 50+ years later, I got angry about it. No one deserves that kind of treatment. Had he asked my mama if he could come over and hang out and told us why, she would have friend chicken for him. To be used for entertainment until you get what you want is not a nice thing. 

My mama liked him. Everyone liked Johnnie. Until they didn't. 

He came back to church a year later with his wife and child. I didn't speak to him. I don't know who did. 

Years later, 1980 to be exact, I met someone in N. Carolina who knew Johnnie. What are the odds? 

They were a military family from Alaska, and we were all stationed at Ft. Bragg. Her dad was a pastor in Alaska. Johnnie had been a member of the church in Alaska with his wife and kids. And Johnnie had messed up badly. Johnnie was in prison for rape. 

I was surprised. But I don't know if I should have been. I was just glad my mama was already gone and never knew. Mama would have been so disappointed. 

Today, I think I received a memory that reminds me not to assume everyone is good. My personality is such that I am open, getting closer than I should. Because of that, I can stray into areas I shouldn't and end up with bruises. 

That memory. It was painful in a way today it never was before.