My feet healed and my heart pumped its miraculous message to my cells and the days began to unfurl the flag of the future. Irise came by to deliver an invitation to Georgia Tech and somewhere in Atlanta a boy with green eyes and better genes than Stanley’s was getting ready to be there when my panties finally began to fall. Was waiting to help me fulfill my destiny or seal my fate or just plain get laid at last, however you like to phrase it, whatever you think it means.

Deeper than the mass, Anna once called it, more profound and much, much older. That mysterious time was almost upon me. And something else to ponder, the strangeness of Charles William. Queer duck, my father called him. Oh, Charles William, my brothers said. The Waters boy, the men sighed and lifted their eyebrows. And yet, there was hardly a house I visited in Dunleith that had not been changed by his genius, a flagstone path by pear trees, a porch painted green with a French blue ceiling and white wicker furniture he collected and painted, a dining room with Chinese screens, recessed lighting he created before you could buy such a thing, freestanding lamps with rice paper shades, walls painted red. Paint covers a multitude of sins, he was fond of saying, and the metaphor could have been his life. He left beauty and charm everywhere he passed. Also, drunkenness and a strange apologetic darkness. You would have been careful to leave a teenage boy alone with him. Still, I had no other friends my own age who were deeply truly interested in literature and art. Perhaps if I had been allowed to stay at Vanderbilt I would have found them soon, but Daddy had closed that door. “Goddammit, Sister,” he kept saying when he called me on the phone. “Thank God you’re down there with some white people. This place is going crazy. It’s about to explode. I thank God every day I got you away from those liberals in Nashville. Are you all right? How’s your car running? Do you need any money?”

Part Three

THE PISCEAN ODYSSEY

Ruled by the magical and mysterious Neptune,

Pisceans operate on their own wavelength.

Because Pisces is often considered the “lonely

heart” sign, Pisceans are susceptible to illusions.

They become either masters of their fate or life’s

most unwilling servants. In the most extreme

interpretation, Pisces is the sign of the purest

spiritual expression and, conversely, that of the

most degraded or lost soul. This sign is

symbolized by two fish; one swimming upward,

toward heaven, and the other heading down, into

the depths of despair.

Linda Goodman

Chapter

10

After the night with Stanley I decided to settle down. I had had all the blind dates and sorority bullshit I could bear. Sorority meetings were held in a hot cramped attic room with everyone sworn to secrecy at the door. After we swore we sat around and talked about appointing people to committees and how to raise the grade-point average. Then we voted on things and planned the initiation ceremony.