“You Send Me”
Listen to this chapter, “A Friendship Begins”
The weeks passed, and soon the schedule of getting up early and getting home late was a routine. The Macintoshes moved into a new house on the corner of Gilbert Street where Julie lived nine blocks away. Now Allen waited for Mrs. Emory on the corner of Florida and Gilbert Street, where Julie also waited.
Soon Allen concluded that Julie and Steve weren’t going together, although she surely must still like such a handsome fellow as he. And Allen wasn’t sure he could really blame Steve for liking Julie—if he ever had.
There was one unique feature of the program of the six who attended school in Highview—the town was located 35 miles from Riverdale, the longest distance any of the students had to travel. This meant leaving home at 7:15 a.m. and returning home after five every night except Friday. And because of Mrs. Emory’s class schedule, this also meant breakfast in the Highview College Cafeteria on Monday mornings. But the kids did their homework after school in the College library. It was normal for the five to study at the same table: brilliant, unoccupied, mischief-loving Carlos; handsome, quick-tempered, good-natured Steve; studious, timid, and self-conscious Julie; this new personality, Allen; and Sharon, who after a short time, because of her restless lively energies, went to a babysitter’s after school.
One particular afternoon, Allen and Julie just sat across from each other at the study table for the first time, but not the last. Engaged in a low-toned informal conversation, the two grew better acquainted, as is the natural course. Allen discovered that beneath her quiet reserve, Julie could be quite a friendly girl. And she discovered that although this pastor’s son was different, he was a real wit and a ball to be with.
Then Julie left for home right after school on Mondays because of a music lesson. But Allen, who had made friends with Steve and Carlos, scarcely missed her until one day she spoke to him.
“Would you like a ride home early? My folks are here,” she said.
Allen thought a minute. “What about the other boys?”
“Steve would rather wait for his mom,” Julie continued, “and Carlos wants to stay with him.”
It really didn’t matter to Allen how he got home, but the sooner the better. “Okay. Thanks,” he said hastily and followed her to the car.
But Monday after Monday, Allen continued to accept Julie’s invitation. Then came that weekend, that Riverdale Youth Club campout at Pine Cove.
Dr. and Mrs. Emory were excellent as the RYC sponsors. The food was terrific, and the well-planned activities were spectacular. Perhaps Allen’s younger brother Peter noticed more than Allen did that quite a few couples existed among the group. But Allen, too, silently watched.
Riding up to the mountain campsite late in the afternoon in the back of Emorys’ truck, couples snuggled together because it was chilly. Peter had teased Allen, who became provoked, and Julie, who had turned red; but now Allen secretly observed her. There would be time, he figured, in the weeks to come to get to know Julie.
Mornings passed and mornings grew colder. And morning after morning Julie and Allen came from opposite directions and met at the gas station on the corner of Gilbert Street and Florida Avenue to wait for Mrs. Emory. This crisp cool October morning Julie’s books lay on the cash box and Allen’s books balanced on the hood of his father’s Simca parked approximately 15 feet from where they stood.
The two stood watching the western horizon when suddenly Allen started. “Hey, here they come!”
Julie looked up. Sure enough, the gray station wagon was rolling through the mist. By this time, Allen had turned and headed for the cash box.
“Your books are on the car,” Julie said, thinking he had forgotten.
He stopped and flushed slightly. “Oh, I was just going to get yours for you,” he blurted.
“Oh.” Now it was Julie’s turn to blush. But Emorys had arrived, so there was no time for debate. And each grabbed their own books and scrambled to the car.
If Julie had suspected what was going on in Allen’s mind, she might have acted differently. But she soon forgot this simple incident.
“So,” said Sandra over the phone the next night, “you’re almost 14, huh?”
“Just two more days!” affirmed her friend.
“Well, Julie—’sweet fourteen and never been kissed’,” she teased. “Allen will have to do something about that!”
Julie laughed, then said, “Oh, no. Allen isn’t that kind of guy. Anyway, we’ll probably be nothing more than just casual friends. After all, he is the pastor’s son!”
“Well, I don’t know,” drawled Sandra. “After what happened yesterday with your books—”
“Oh,” Julie interrupted, “that was nothing but an act of courtesy. Nothing in the way of romance will ever happen between us.”
Sandra said no more.
Then Julie turned 14 on a Monday afternoon. By now, Allen and Julie felt quite at ease in talking to each other.
Prior to this, Allen had noticed that Julie wrote a lot in the car instead of taking part in the boys’ conversation or listening to the radio or just plain enjoying the scenery (which, after several weeks, had grown quite familiar). After some time, he found out that what she wrote was stories, fiction or nonfiction. It made no difference as long as there was a girl, a boy, and a good plot. Allen had read some of her stories and became intrigued. This curiosity led to the general drift of the conversation that Monday afternoon. But somehow Julie got off on a tangent.
“You mean you write stories just for fun?” Allen asked.
She nodded.
“Well,” he said, “where do you get all the ideas?”
She shrugged. “Oh, I get inspirations from my own experiences and from my friends’ experiences.” She laughed. “I remember the first story I ever wrote—‘The Luckiest Girl in Town’.”
“Oh?” he said, laughing with her.
But the smile disappeared from her face. And somehow it slipped out, the story of her jealousy of Cynthia and Steve and their grade-school romance.
Now Allen understood. And somehow the fact that Julie had involuntarily taken Allen into her confidence made Allen want to understand her better.
Now Julie noticed little things more and more—the way he would always tell her how good her organ music was, the time he sat beside her in church, and the times he phoned for unimportant reasons. Then came the Week of Prayer at Highview Academy that directed the course of things for Allen and Julie.
“Looking at Life”—that was the theme of the thought-provoking informal talks presented in a teenager’s language by Dean Alexander from nearby La Paloma College. This week was a turning point in many lives, including Julie’s. She had been a Christian most of her life, but lately it seemed she had been almost asleep spiritually. But something happened in Julie’s life as she made one of the most important decisions of her entire life—her decision for God. And in the days that followed, even Allen noticed the change. Julie was a dedicated Christian, the kind of Christian he wanted for a close friend.
It was November, and the weather was chilly. But to Julie everything seemed like spring—wonderful, exuberant, and unexplainable. Maybe it was her vows to God. Maybe it was a secret looking-forward-to of Monday afternoons. Maybe it was a subconscious intuition that something big might happen….
“Say, wasn’t that an excellent program today?” Julie asked casually that November Monday.
“Yes, it was,” agreed Allen. “La Paloma College orchestra, huh? They’re pretty good. Are you going to their concert Saturday night?”
“Oh, I’d love to!” she said, thinking only of the music. “But,” her countenance fell, “La Paloma’s so far away from Riverdale, and I know my folks won’t take me that late at night.”
“I’d like to go, too,” Allen said. “Maybe I can get my folks to go. Would you like to go?” The question was casual, but for a moment their eyes met, and the magic sparkle seemed to spell one word—date.
“I’d be delighted!” she almost breathed. Looking out the window behind Allen, she said, “I-I’ll let you know.”
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