Whether or Not

Whether or Not

He couldn’t decide whether or not to do it. With his heart he wanted to, but his self-confidence argued the other side quite convincingly. He had known her for a few years, pretty much just as a face and a name. At the Sunday School Picnic, when they both were 13, the two of them had been walking by the river in opposite directions.  Neither wanted to play games with ‘the little kids,’ so both had escaped down the riverbank  They had never really talked to each other before, but they suddenly decided that diverting conversation was appropriate on this occasion. They laughed at each other’s jokes about their younger siblings. It was something they could share. They were enjoying each other’s company until his father called down to him and said “We’re leaving now.” He knew from his father’s tone that we would have to scurry up the riverbank. He had no room in his thinking to say goodbye. When he and the rest of his family were in the car, his father said, “Don, what’s the name of your girlfriend?” with an emphasis on the last word of the question. It was Sarah. He knew that from before, as so should his father.

First Dance

           As they climbed up the annual academic ladder from junior high into high school, they occasionally would say ‘hi’ to each other, but no more than that. There was one exception in Grade 11. There was this school dance. He wasn’t having much luck getting girls to dance with him, and she was trying to escape some unwanted attention. Just after she had shaken off one particularly persistent dance suitor for the slow dance that the band was just beginning to play, she looked over at Don and walked towards him, arms open wide. There was no question that she saw him as a favourable alternative. They danced together closely and smoothly. Onlookers would have thought them a couple. But no words were spoken. When the song was over, she thanked him with words and a soft tap on his right forearm. He did not know what to say, so said nothing, despite his definite enjoyment of the experience.

           It wasn’t long after that that she developed a serious relationship with another boy. At the same time he dated a number of girls, rarely more than once.

The Last Year

           Now it was the last year of high school. The prom was coming up. She had broken up with her boyfriend some months back, so could be considered ‘available’ at that time.

           He decided that one day he would have to ask her or not. It was on a Monday, 11 days before the prom. That morning, unlike his usual custom, he decided to dress up somewhat, rather than be his usual rather slobbie self. He even washed his best pants. What he didn’t know, because he didn’t usually do his laundry, was that the material the pants were made out of had to be washed in cold water, or they would shrink. After they had been washed and dried , he had discovered the short comings of his pants as they were. At least if there is a flood, he thought, I won’t get my pants wet. He also decided to shampoo and condition his hair. Maybe that would make up for his pants. He didn’t have time to dry it, so he went out wet, but put a toque on over it so the wind that was blowing hard wouldn’t make him feel cold.

           Off he went. Should he ask her or not? He still do not know for sure. Once he entered the school he took his toque off. When he did, he noticed that several people began staring and pointing at his head. He was glad at first that they weren’t pointing at his flood pants, but they he got a good look at himself in a graduation picture on the wall, covered with glass. His hair was sticking our everywhere, with no one particular direction dominating. He looked like a porcupine caught in a tornado. 

           As he continued down the hallway thinking about how he must look, he was not paying attention to where he was going. He walked straight into a red paint brush that the janitor was using to paint around where the fire hydrant was. The red got all over his shirt, his best shirt of course. It was a light blue, now with streaks of red, a misdirected sunset on a clear night.

           He apologized to the janitor, and then stood still for a moment. His decision was made for him. He could not ask Sarah to the prom the way he looked now. It was fate telling him that he should not. He took in a little sugar of relief in a way, but more a sore taste of sadness. He really would have liked to have gone with her to the prom.

           As he walked over to his locker he saw Sarah coming his way. She stopped suddenly and looked directly at him. Her eyes went wide, and her mouth opened. Then she thought for a moment and spoke.

           “Don, that’s a new look for you, is it? I’ve never seen you like that before.” Feeling that he had nothing to lose, he replied. “I saw it in a men’s fashion magazine, and thought that I would give it a try. Walk on the wild side. What do you think?”

           “Well, as you are trying so hard to impress me with your new style, I would like to ask a special favour of you.”

           “What is that?”

           “I would like to ask you to go to the prom with me. I hope you haven’t a date, and do not mind that a girl asks you out.”

           For the second time in a short while he thought that the fates were speaking to him, making a decision for him.

           “Of course. I would love (not a word he often used, not even for food) to go to the prom with you. I hope that you don’t mind if I stick with my old style, and not this new experimental look.”

           “That’s fine with me. I like you as you usually are.”

           “I would say the same of you.”

           It was decided then, and a future began.