The Light of DawnbyMoogPlayer©
This is a story that I wanted to write for a very special friend who happens to be not only a sweet and beautiful person, but a very kind and gentle soul. As of late, she has been a positive influence in my writing, thus the reason for this story. And while it is total fiction, I can only hope this story will honor her as much as she has honored me.
Every once in a great while; God puts people in our path that make a difference in our lives, for the rest of our lives. This is the story of one such person....
My name is Scott Powers; I'm 6'2", and weigh 215 lbs. I have dark brown hair and eyes, and I'm 45 years old. I'm an only child, not because my parents couldn't have any more children after I was born, but because they died in an airplane crash when I was a little over a year old. Don't feel sorry for me, because I was too young to remember them. Still though, I really wish I could've known them.
Aunt Lauren, Mom's twin sister, and her husband, my Uncle Mike Anderson took me in without a second thought when my real parents were killed so, they're the only parents I've ever known. Lauren and Mike, as they tried, with no avail, to make me call them once I was grown, could never have any children of their own; and needless to say, they spoiled me a little bit, but not too much. They're good people and they taught me great values, morals and ethics, not to mention, showered me with love and affection.
Uncle Mike was a structural engineer and opened his own firm, which began to do extremely well in just a short amount of time. He was a good male role model for me as I grew into manhood, always there to answer any questions I might have. When the time came that I wanted to know about sex, I was never once made to feel uncomfortable about asking questions of an explicit nature. I knew that I would always be given an honest answer, and that Uncle Mike's discretion was iron clad. In other words, he would die before he betrayed my trust.
Aunt Lauren was an illustrator for a publisher who dealt strictly in children's books who, and she didn't know until later, also inspired me to want to be an author. And I'll forever remember when I was a little boy, her letting me sit and watch her draw characters from whatever story she was illustrating at the time. I knew not to disturb her and to just sit and watch. However, when she would get any kind of story that would, in any way, involve monsters, I knew that my expertise would always be called upon. I helped her create most of the monsters in more than several different children's books that are still popular today.
When I was in the fifth grade, my teachers noticed that I had an affinity for being able to write extremely well so, my Aunt Lauren saw to it that this 'ability' was nurtured. You see, I had always enjoyed reading, and I could always be seen around the house, or at school, with a book in my hand. Literature took me to far away places with the simple turn of a page, and I loved it.
Of course, my teachers loved me, but by losing myself in books all the time; it more or less crippled my social skills. The other kids pretty much paid no attention, which was fine with me, as I had seen the way all the guys acted around the girls, and the way the girls snubbed them at every given opportunity. I thought they were all idiots and had no time for such bullshit.
In our school system, elementary school consisted of grades, Kindergarten through Fourth. Then there was middle school which consisted of grades, Five through Nine so, when I entered high school, I was in the Tenth grade.
The morning before I left for school, I was getting all of my stuff together when, out of the blue, Aunt Lauren caught me right before I walked out the front door.
"I just wanted to let you know how proud we are of you, Scotty," she said, putting her arms around me, "And I know that your mother and father would be very proud of you, too, if they were here."
My Aunt Lauren has long dark brown hair and eyes like my mother, duh, they were identical twins, and like my Mom, Aunt Lauren is very beautiful. So, after kissing me on the cheek, like she's always done for as far back as I can remember, I held her at arms length, and smiling, replied, "I'm sure that my parents would be proud, but you're the only mother I've ever known, and you'll always be my Mom, Aunt Lauren."
"With happy tears raining down her pretty cheeks, she swatted me on the butt, and with a giggle, said, "I love you, ya little shit. Now, go and have a good day at school, sweetie."
"I love you, too, Aunt Lauren," I smiled, as I left for school.
My first year in high school was pretty good. I managed to make a couple of friends along the way, and it made my time there feel less like the social Siberia I had been experiencing throughout the previous years in school up to this point.
That was also the year I got my driver's license, and because of a trust fund set up for me by my maternal grandmother before I was born; it had matured upon the death of my parents so, Uncle Mike saw to it that I had a brand new, Midnight Blue, Corvette Stingray convertible that was fully loaded. "These cars don't depreciate, Scotty," he said, "They just get better if you take good care of them."
There were many good looking girls in my grade, as well as the grades above me, but I was really shy around them and never really thought about asking any of them out. However, that was also the same year that I met a very pretty girl who was one grade ahead of me; and her name was Claire Rogers.
She was 5'6", had long dark brown hair, deep blue eyes; and was built like the proverbial brick shit house. Her measurements, she later told me, or I should say, I later discovered first hand, were 37D-24-36. Overall, she was the prettiest girl I'd ever seen, whom I met under a very surprising, yet very pleasant, set of circumstances. I'd briefly seen her at school, but like I said before, I was very shy back then so; I was certain that she didn't even know who I was, nor had she even noticed me.
Like all high schools, we had a Drama department, and I had always been interested in the theater. I'd read some of the works of people like William Shakespeare, Arthur Miller, and Tennessee Williams, among a few others.
Early during the first semester of my first year in high school, I noticed a flyer on the wall near my locker one morning that was announcing open auditions for "The Wizard of Oz" at three o'clock that afternoon. I had always wanted to try my hand in the theater so; I called home and told Aunt Lauren that I would be late coming home that day, and why.
"Oh, Scotty," she smiled, once I'd told her, "I think that's wonderful, sweetie."
"I hope that I'm not too embarrassed," I said, "The flyer said that you have to sing."
"Scotty, honey," she giggled, "I've heard you singing in the shower, and you have a wonderful voice. I think you'll do great."
"Do you really think so, Aunt Lauren?"
"Go for it," she said, "Besides, that was your favorite movie when you were little, you knew every word to every song, and; I'd imagine that you probably still remember them, too."
"Okay," I laughed, knowing she was right, "Why not?"
That afternoon I found myself walking into the theater with about twenty-five other people, each one hoping to land a role in the up-coming musical. As soon as the doors closed behind me, everyone turned to look at me.
"Are you lost?" asked some smart-assed girl, whom, it was apparent she was a senior as she was wearing a school letter jacket with drama award patches all over it.
"No," I solidly replied, "The flyer said that there was an audition today."
"You have to earn the right to be here," she snarled, "Besides I don't think you have what it takes to pass an audition, much less be here at all."
"Leave him alone, Cindy Donaldson," a female voice spoke from somewhere behind me, "He has as much right to be here as you do."
I turned around and that's when I met a beautiful angel. "Hi," she smiled, "My name is Claire Rogers. What's yours?"
"H...hi," I stuttered, "Scott...my name is Scott Powers."
Taking me by the hand, she smiled, and referring to the girl who'd just verbally accosted me, said, "Come over here and sit with me and my friends, and don't pay any attention to her, she's a bitch."
"Watch your mouth, Rogers," Cindy said.
"Kiss my ass, bitch," replied Claire, the venom very present in her tone of voice.
And then, as opposed to introducing me to her friends, instead Claire led me to an empty row of seats and took one, indicating that she wanted me to sit in the seat right next to her. As I sat down, she smiled and said, "So, what part are you auditioning for?"
"I...uh...I...uh," I nervously replied, "I wanted to audition for the part of the Scarecrow."
"Can you sing?" she sweetly asked, "You have to be able to sing to get that part, ya know."
"Yeah," I confidently nodded, "I know."
Before she could respond, the drama teacher/coach, Mrs. Maggie Fox, came into the theater clapping her hands and saying, "Okay, gang, I need everyone to come to the stage and get your audition forms.
After filling out my form, I handed it to Mrs. Fox, who looked up at me and pleasantly said, "I don't think I've ever seen you before, young man. What's your name?"
"Scott, Missus Fox," Claire said, before I could respond, "His name is Scott Powers and he's here to audition for the part of the Scarecrow."
"The Scarecrow," scoffed Cindy Donaldson, "That part is too much for you, boy."
"Maybe," I smiled, reprovingly, "But one never knows, now, do they?"
"Yeah," she snorted, "We'll see, won't we?"
"What is your problem, Cindy?" asked Mrs. Fox.
"Aw, come on, Missus Fox," she said, "He has no experience for such a role."
"And neither did you when you first came in here, Miss Donaldson," Mrs. Fox pointedly replied, stopping Cindy dead in her tracks, "So, if I were you, young lady, I would close my mouth, or leave if you're not able to do so. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Ma'am," Cindy quietly replied.
"And now for the auditions," smiled Mrs. Fox.
Mrs. Fox had brought in a girl from the jazz band for accompaniment. And as I watched all the other guys, all with more experience than me, audition for the same role I was after; I took a silent satisfaction in knowing that I had them all beat and I hadn't even taken my turn yet.
When my turn came, I was more than ready. Gone was the nervousness that I first experienced, and in its place grew a confidence within me that I never knew existed. I sang the song, "If I Only Had a Brain", and did it flawlessly; exactly the way Ray Bolger had performed it in the original movie. When I was done, everyone in the theater gave me a standing ovation. I was never more proud of myself than I was at that moment.
Right after she was finished with the vocal auditions for that role, Mrs. Fox moved on to take vocal auditions for the part of Dorothy, which was the part that Claire was after. I'd never heard so many different versions of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" as I did that day. However, when it came time for Claire to sing, she let loose with the most beautiful voice I'd ever heard, and I was certain that she would get the part. And just like they'd done for me, everyone gave her a standing ovation when she was done.
After that came the reading of the lines, and once again, being blessed with a photographic memory, I had the lines I was supposed to read memorized in very short order. That meant that I wouldn't need to glance at a script to audition when my turn came. And just like Aunt Lauren said, every memory of that movie came back to me, making my audition, which was the last one, a roaring success, and eliciting another loud round of applause once I was finished reading.
Afterwards, Mrs. Fox looked at me and asked, "Have you ever done any theater before, Mister Powers?"
"No, ma'am," I said, "This is my first time."
"Well," she chuckled, "I think you have an amazing stage presence, as well as a beautiful voice. You did a great job today."
"Thank you, ma'am," I replied.
Then, speaking to the rest of the group, Mrs. Fox loudly said, "Okay gang, I'll make my decision at home tonight, and the cast members names will be posted outside my classroom after first period tomorrow morning. Now, get out of here and I'll see you tomorrow."
I drove home that afternoon very excited and knew that I'd done well at the audition. I was also excited about meeting Claire, too. She was what I considered to be a very pretty girl, beautiful even. But how could someone as gorgeous as she is, be even remotely interested in me, I wondered.
As I pulled in the driveway at home, I saw Aunt Lauren and Uncle Mike sitting on the front porch with big smiles on their faces. "Hi sweetheart, congratulations on your audition today," Aunt Lauren smiled, "I heard you did very well."
"How can that be?" I asked dumbfounded, "I just got home and..."
"I got a phone call a few minutes ago," Aunt Lauren giggled, "From a girl named Claire Rogers, and she said that you were the best one there, and that you more-than-likely had the part."
"Well, I don't know about all that," I shrugged, "Missus Fox hasn't posted the names of the cast yet."
"She seems like a nice girl, Scotty," Aunt Claire mused, "I really enjoyed talking to her."
"So, Scott," smiled Uncle Mike, "Who is this girl? Is she hot?"
"Michael!" scolded Aunt Lauren, making me chuckle.
"She's a girl that I met at the auditions," I laughed, "And yes, Uncle Mike, she's smoking hot."
"Thadda boy, Scotty," laughed Uncle Mike.
"What am I going to do with you two?" giggled Aunt Lauren, shaking her head.
That night after helping Aunt Lauren with the dishes after dinner, I sat out on the huge deck that had been built onto the back of the house and stared up at the sky and began to think about Claire. And just like I'd told Uncle Mike earlier, she was smoking hot, that much was certain.
As I said earlier, I was shy and a little unsure of myself back then, especially if there were girls involved; hence the reason why I wondered just what it was a girl as beautiful Claire saw in me. I mean, as soon as I'd walked into the theater she approached me, and it seemed to me that she was awfully friendly. I don't know, maybe all she was doing was nothing more than just being friendly, and it was just wishful thinking on my part.
However, she had called the house and talked to Aunt Claire. I wonder why she would do that. We were only friends; or was she as attracted to me as I found myself becoming to her? All of a sudden I yawned and realized that I was getting sleepy. I rarely had any homework, as I usually did it during study hall so, I made my way to bed, but not before saying good night to Uncle Mike and Aunt Lauren.
The next morning I had English in Mrs. Bozeman's class first period. Although I did well in her class, she caught me daydreaming. But as opposed to scolding me, she simply smiled, gave me a knowing look and asked me to try and pay attention.
As soon as the bell that ended first period rang, I made a mad dash down the hall to Mrs. Fox's room, which happened to be in the same building, thank God. When I rounded the corner, I saw several people, one of them being Claire, gathered around what had to have been the cast list on the wall outside of Mrs. Fox's room. "Scott! Scott, you did it, you got the part of The Scarecrow," she excitedly said, gently grabbing my arm with both hands. I looked, and sure enough, there was my name right beside the role I would be playing. "Holy shit!" I silently thought. Then I discovered that Claire had been cast as Dorothy, which really didn't surprise me one bit.
"Congratulations, Scott," she purred, "We're going to have a blast together."
"Congratulations to you too, Claire," I smiled, "I'm glad you got the part."
"Ooo, look," giggled Claire, "Cindy Donaldson got cast as The Wicked Witch of the West."
"But didn't she audition for the part of Dorothy?"
"Yeah," roared Claire, "That's just too funny."
"Well," I laughed, "It seems like she's gonna be able to play her part perfectly then," causing all those standing around us to laugh as well.
"Scott, um...I wanted to ask you something," Claire shyly said, "I was wondering if...um...if you might like to eat lunch with me today?"
"Yeah," I smiled, "That would be real nice."
All too soon the bell rang, signaling that it was time to return to class, and I rode on a cloud the rest of the morning, knowing that I was going to be able to play my favorite character from a movie that had been my all-time childhood favorite.
As the bell for lunch rang, I don't know why, but somehow I wasn't surprised when I discovered Claire waiting for me right outside the room of my last class that morning.
"Hi handsome," she cooed.
"Hi Claire," I smiled, "You ready to eat lunch?"
"Yes," she replied, "But the cafeteria food really sucks."
"No problem," I replied, leading her to the parking lot, "We'll go off-campus and eat."
"But I don't have a car, Scott."
"I do," I grinned, "Come with me."
As we walked into the parking lot toward my car, Claire grinned slyly and said, "Ever since I saw you get out of this beautiful car, I've been dying to meet you, Scott; I think you should know that."
"Oh yeah," I teased, "Are you sure it's me, and not the car?"
"Oh shut up," she giggled, playfully slapping me on the arm, "I'm not that shallow, thank you."
As I opened her door, she leaned over and gave me a soft, but brief kiss on the lips, giggling as she got into the car. I went around and opened my door, leaned in and started the engine, and because the weather was so nice; I put the top down, and then drove us off campus. This all happened back when it was safe to have an open campus, and the kids weren't doing all the criminal shit they do these days.
Claire and I pulled into the local burger joint; a place called "Neuman's", then got out of the car and went inside. It was quickly filling up with the other kids we went to school with, and we were lucky to have gotten there early enough for Claire to get us a booth while I ordered the food.
Hi cutie," chirped Claire, as I sat down in the booth across the table from her. She suddenly wrinkled her brow and said, "Oh, hell no, this won't do."
"What're you talking about?" I grinned.
As opposed to answering my question verbally, she simply rose from her seat and came around the table, putting her pretty little self down right next me, then took my arm and said, "This is what I'm talking about, silly."
However, before I had the chance to respond, "Claire! Hey girl," emanated from right behind us.
"Hey Becky, hi Sara," Claire said, turning around in her seat, her hand on my shoulder, "Come sit with us."
As the two girls rounded the table, I noticed that they were pretty girls, too, but neither could hold a candle to Claire. They were all about the same height and build, with the exception of Claire's bust size, which, by the way, hadn't gone unnoticed by me. One of them was a green-eyed redhead named Becky, and the other, Sara, a blue-eyed blonde.
They sat down across the table from us, and no sooner had their asses touched the seats before Sara grinned, and looking at me, said, "So, you're Scott, huh?"
"Yeah," I cautiously replied.
"Ooo, Claire," squealed Sara, "You were right. He is hot," followed by her and Becky fitfully giggling at their friend's discomfort.
"You bitches just can't keep a secret," Claire angrily scolded, "Can you?"
"Aw, come on now," smiled Becky, "We were only teasing you." Then extending her hand across the table to me, she smiled and said, "Hi Scott, I'm Becky Flynn, this is Sara Peterson, and it's really nice to meet you."