It Happened on Maple Street

“Hi.” I was glad to see him, too. He was easy to be with. We liked each other.

“How was your summer.”

“Rough. How about you?”

“Worked like a dog, but it was good. I saved a lot of money. What was wrong with yours?”

“My folks kicked me out for joining the church.”

We were walking then, side by side along the tracks. He didn’t touch me. His hands were in his pockets. I liked that.

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me, too.”

“You okay?”

“I guess.”

“You want me to call them? Maybe if I talk to them . . .”

“No!” They’d never even heard of James. And anyone from the church calling them would probably set off a major explosion. They’d still sent me to school. Paid for my plane fare. Were paying my tuition. They still cared at least a little bit.

I couldn’t take the chance of losing what little bit of them I had left.

“They’ll come around.”

“I hope so.”

“They will. They love you.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“Well you aren’t alone. You know that.”

“I guess.”

“Hey,” he stopped me, took me by the shoulders, and looked me in the eye. “You always have me. I love you. I mean that.”

He loved me? He was talking about the love in Christ that was so freely expressed on campus. Part of me knew that. But we weren’t even dating, and he’d told me he loved me.

“We’re friends. You can come to me anytime.”

Tears filled my eyes, I nodded, and we walked on.

He was still seeing Emily. His heart was in it. Almost all the way. As much as his heart could be into any woman.

The first cut was the deepest, and he’d been cut. Bad.

His little blonde girl was gone, but she was not forgotten. He’d accepted the fact that a part of him would always yearn for her.

“Hi, Cowboy, you ready to go?” Emily was a couple of years older than him. A teacher in the local elementary school. He’d gone to school with her brother.

“Yep. Got your helmet?” She’d bought it when he’d bought the Suzuki 250—the motorcycle he’d had his eye on for more than a year.