“Smoke Gets in Your Eyes” (violin)
Listen to this chapter, “Searching to Find.”
Again morning dawned, the morning of the Lord’s Day when over 2,000 people would worship under the same roof. There was a hopeful expectancy about the atmosphere; many who could not attend the Youth Congress for the entire weekend would be there today. And Julie, with Darlene, shared the blessings of the special worship; it was a highlight of experience.
After the service, physical nourishment was in order. Then there was a concert, richly eloquent in its beauty, given by the youth choirs and orchestras. Julie was content to be with Darlene and her girlfriend Sandy. She had even almost forgotten to look for Bill any more. But down deep inside, cast away temporarily, Julie felt that growing emptiness. She should be with Allen, sharing all this—the prayer, the worship, the music—together.
“Julie! There they are!” Darlene was poking her again. Who this time? Julie looked.
“Mrs. Macintosh and Allen!” Julie strained across the huge auditorium. But she lost sight of them; and when she looked a moment later, they had disappeared.
“I want to find him,” Julie said in a strange tone. “We’ve got some talking to do.” She rose quickly and left, leaving the other girls a little bewildered.
“Where are you going?” Darlene called. But Julie did not hear.
Once in the corridor, Julie caught herself. What am I doing, running around like a little nut out here? But she didn’t stop. She raced down the stairs, through the lobby, and up the escalator until she finally saw him smugly trying to avoid her, she thought.
“Why, hello, Allen,” she greeted wryly. “You’ve, ah, been doing a beautiful job of avoiding me all day.”
“Why, I haven’t been avoiding you,” he said, giving her that what-are-you-talking-about look.
“Well, you certainly haven’t been with me,” she retorted.
“Look, Julie, I haven’t been with anyone much—Bob and Sandra, or Peter, or even my mom.”
“That’s what I know,” she said, her provocation rising. “What have you been running from, Allen? Just what?”
He looked away for an instant as he said, “I’m looking for my roommate. You haven’t seen him anywhere, have you?”
Julie half-sighed in disgust, her eyes unconsciously scanning the crowds of people who were still arriving. Then she realized. “Your roommate? You don’t have a roommate! What’s his name?”
“Lee,” he replied quickly. “Moved in just recently.”
Julie was silent. Allen Lee Macintosh, she thought. “Anyway,” she said, “why is it so important that you find him? Why is he so much more important than us being together?
Allen shrugged, giving some weak excuse as he stepped aside to speak to a couple of his friends from his school. But when he had finished, she still stood there, looking silently at him.
“Well,” he said a little uncomfortably, “I’ve got to find my roommate Lee.”
Julie, raising her eyebrows, asked, “Do you mind if I help you look for him?”
“Oh, no, no!” he replied hurriedly.
“That’s good. For a minute I was beginning to think you were ashamed to be seen with me.”
So Allen started off, around the corner and down the stairs, with Julie following close. At intervals he would stop to speak to friends he saw, and the rest of the time he kept up a meaningless patter with Julie.
“Allen, in your own mind, are we through?” Julie was frank.
“Why, no,” was the facetious answer. “What makes you think that?”
“Well, it’s the normal custom for a boy to be with his girlfriend at places like this, or if he goes someplace without her to at least tell her where he’s going and when he’ll meet her—besides ‘subsequently’!”
Allen laughed. It was a wild, rough laugh reminiscent of the old days, the cruel ten months. Julie quivered inside. What is wrong between us, Allen? She had asked him that as they waited in line for breakfast that morning, but all she had received was an evasive, “What about ‘Marvelous’? Why didn’t you tell me about him?”
And she had come back with, “And why didn’t you tell me about Bonnie?”
“You didn’t ask me.”
There it had ended. But surely Allen wasn’t jealous. Now she asked again, “What’s wrong, Allen?”
This time he answered her directly. “Julie, you must realize by now that I am different—in every respect.” His voice faded as they stood in front of the big window porch that overlooked the sea and the late afternoon sun, side by side yet in two entirely different worlds.
Suddenly Allen turned and started away, hurrying. But Julie still followed. Why won’t she leave me alone? I don’t want to hurt her—I can’t hurt her—just now.
Allen and Julie made their way down from the balcony, crossed the lobby, and started down the stairs that led to the banquet room. At the foot of the stairway was a cool, dimly lit niche. There was a square pond where three small palm trees grew. Several white stone benches surrounded it. Everything seemed like a well-written drama.
Allen started philosophizing, and Julie was not a mere listener.
“Life is so ironic,” Allen mumbled.
“I know,” Julie replied. “I used to feel that way—a few years ago.”
“But it is, Julie.”
“Is it—all the time?”
“All the time, life holds some irony for someone, somewhere.”
“And you feel life has given you more than your share.”
“No. Whatever life gives me is my share.”
This kind of rhetoric from Allen wasn’t new. But Julie knew him well enough to sense that a struggle was going on inside, deep beneath his placid surface. She knew it was up to her to help him in this horrible dilemma. A surge of sympathy swept through her for the boy she had grown to love.
“I am different, Julie,” he repeated. “Different from most conventional people, you know that.”
She knew that well. “But do you feel that’s a handicap?”
“No, not at all!” was his expected reply. “It’s just life. And, as yet, life just hasn’t shown me the answers, which direction to go, and just how to react to life’s situations.” Allen leaned against the white pillar that supported the staircase. “I want to find the answer, Julie. More than anything else, I have to find the answer!”
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