It was two weeks before I saw Rashaad again. He only came to do big jobs for Mr. Sims or to to make deliveries in one of the trucks. And yet, nearly every time, he could find a secluded or semi-private area where we could kiss like in the arts and crafts cabin. I think now how ironic that hiding spot was since some belief systems say that sexual energy and creative energy are the same thing. And not so long ago, I heard through the grapevine, that the arts and crafts cabin burned down and had to be rebuilt. That reality is such a fitting metaphor for my own creative journey.
Between camps, I saw him more often. And while I retained my virginity, our rendezvous progressed to more than just kissing. He called me the next day after the first time that it was more. I was in the camp office when the phone rang. “It’s for you,” the receptionist said as she handed me the phone. “Connie!” His voice was low and he sounded like he did when he had me up against the cabin wall. But he got straight to the point.
“Hey, look, um, what I did to you, did I make you feel uncomfortable?” I pressed the phone hard against my ear to keep his voice from escaping.
“No,” I said without hesitation. I could hear relief as he pressed, “Are you sure?” I insisted that I was. but I couldn’t say more. I wasn’t alone and cellphones were barely a thing. That summer was better than the ones I’d dreamed of while reading Janette Oke’s books back in Pine River, MN. I’d always a kept a cover book handy to keep my father from catching me. Even though they were Christian, he didn’t approve of romances novels. I had checked them out anyway at the local library and upon my request, the librarian had ordered all of the ones they didn’t have.
As you can see in the picture above, we had custom made culottes for riding horses, etc. Yards of fabric were used for modesty and femininity. However, some girls still wore the kind which resembled long shorts.
Once the fall semester resumed, I thought Rashaad and I wouldn’t be able to meet anymore. But while I was an amateur at sneakiness, he was a pro. We developed a system. He came to ABC two or three times a month for chapel and usually on Wednesdays because I didn’t have class the next hour. As soon as chapel let out, if I had spotted him in the crowd, I made a beeline to the piano rooms which were four semi-sound proof rooms down a little hallway behind a closed sound proof door. I tried to get there first so I could get the last one at the end of the hall.
See, if the light was shining through the window at the top of the door, anyone who entered the hallway would know it was already in use since the lights were motion activated. And most importantly, nobody had to walk past the last room to get to an available room. I spent most of that hour by myself. After all, we couldn’t look suspicious. With my back to the door, I would play hymns while he chatted with students in the dining hall. Eventually, I would hear the door quietly open behind me. I knew without looking that it was him.