One In A Billion

Bistro

Prologue

The office was large and looked exactly like what it was, old and very Massachusetts. Bookcases from floor to ceiling lined the wall to the right. To the left was a couch with a glass table in front of it. On the table was a bottle containing a beautiful four-mast boat. A chalk drawing of a boat sailing off what was probably the New England coast was on the wall directly behind the couch. It looked like the same boat that was encased in the bottle. On either side of the drawing were pictures of the Dean shaking hands with senators, corporate presidents, and other dignitaries, most of whom were graduates of the college. Many were former students of hers. There were no diplomas in this office. On the wall directly behind her was a large window; the lake and a number of college buildings could be seen in the distance. In front of the window was a huge mahogany desk that would have been very much at home in the Oval Office of the White House. Behind the desk the Dean sat ramrod straight. Her grey hair was pulled tight. She would have looked like a living Grant Wood painting except for the slight twinkle in her eyes.

Sit down, said the Dean.

Ariel quietly sat down.

I understand why you wished to see me. However the rules for freshman are quite clear, said the dean. You must be on campus by 6:00 PM. You may not go into Boston. You may not spend the night outside your dorm, either on weeknights, or weekends. To do so risks expulsion.

I have a question, said Ariel.

Yes?

Did my father promise the college money for the new Humanities building?

He did, answered the Dean. Why do you ask?

Because the rules for freshmen weren’t quite so strict last year.

Yet, they are the rules this year, replied the Dean. "And draconian as they may seem to you, the Board of Regents instituted them and I am compelled to uphold them.

Ariel smiled very gently.

I see, she said.

Ariel looked at the Dean for several seconds as if appraising her, or so it seemed to the Dean, and then Ariel gave a little nod to herself as if she’d made up her mind about something that only she knew.

Again, she smiled.

I have a story to tell you, she said.

Part 1

Chapter 1

Graff pounded the ball.

Deep in left field Danny McDowell pivoted then ran as hard as he could back toward the bramble bushes that served as the fence for left field. Keeping his eyes on the ball and squinting in the bright sunshine he reached up with his well-used mitt and jumped. He could feel the ball strike his outstretched fingers. The much-maligned glove closed around the ball. It was the catch of his nine-year-old life. Pivoting again he threw the ball to home plate. It was the third out.

He could hear his friends screaming as he trotted in towards the sideline.

"One more inning," he said to himself.

Then he heard what he’d been dreading all afternoon.

Danny, came the voice of his mother.

You can’t go now, said Bobby Feitler the team’s ten-year-old captain.

Mom, yelled Danny, One more inning.

Now! came the expected reply.

Tommy Monroe came running up, his black curly hair even messier than usual. Tommy was Danny’s best friend, but you’d never know it now.

You gotta be kidding, he yelled jumping up and down. Just one more inning, Danny. We’ve never beaten these guys. We’ve never even come close

Tell me about it. But, I told you when we started I’d probably have to go early, said Danny.

Danny! came his mother’s scolding shout.

Yeah, but not this early, and what’s so important about a stupid party anyway, yelled Tommy as Danny started running home.

I don’t know, came the reply as Danny sprinted towards his house.

Danny’s home was in the Spring Heights area of Hartsfield, South Carolina. It was considered a nice subdivision when it was built during the 1930s. But like so many areas, over the next thirty years it had fallen into disrepair. Still, it was nice enough and even now considered fairly safe. Plus, from Danny’s point of view, there was the wonderful old field where he and his friends played baseball in the summer and football in the winter. And his house was in the only area of the whole city, at least that Danny had seen that had unpaved streets. He loved that about the old neighborhood.

The Spanish moss waved gently in the light summer breeze as Danny ran up the steps and across the porch of the old clapboard house in which he and his mother and father lived.

We were winning! he yelled, as he ran up the stairs and into his room.

Sorry, honey. If you were winning today, I’m sure you’ll win tomorrow, came his mom’s response. Hurry up and shower. I’ve laid your clothes out. We can’t be late. Remember, it’s your dad’s boss that’s having the party.

I know, I know, said Danny.

The thought of leaving a game where they had a real chance to beat Graff was almost too much to bear. Nothing was worth this. Nothing! Of all the people that Danny ever met, Graff was the worst. Although he was only six months older than Danny, he was almost a foot taller and at least twenty pounds heavier. As far as Danny and his friends were concerned, he wasn’t just the class bully, he was a world-class bully.

Danny took one of his patented thirty-second showers. I hope I smell, he said to himself. He looked in the mirror. A skinny, disgruntled looking, nine-year-old boy with just the hint of freckles and black hair stared back at him. We lost, he said to himself. "I’m sure of it."

Danny was the best player on the team and everybody knew it. He also was the smartest kid in his class, which was one of the reasons that the dreaded Graff, who was anything but the smartest kid in the class, picked on him whenever he could. Getting back at Graff was pretty much the end all and be all of the entire summer. And there were barely two weeks left.

With a towel around him Danny walked down the hall to his room. He put on the clothes that his mother had left out and ran downstairs.

Let’s go, said Bob McDowell. Danny’s father was tall and thin with thinning brown hair that was starting to go grey. His mother, Charlotte was a pretty, slight brunette. She had her best dress on. Danny glowered at them.

Sorry son, but the party’s called for five.

Danny and his mom walked out through the kitchen and across the yard to their garage. The old Ford Fairlane was already out of the garage and ready to go.

As they drove away Danny could see his friends walking back to their homes. Tommy looked dejected.

"I knew it," Danny said to himself.

It was barely a twelve-minute ride to the Buchanan home; "You could actually walk there faster, thought Danny. The home they were going to was on the other side of River Drive, but may as well have been on Mars. It was a huge white mansion that predated the Civil War. It’s one of those backwards houses," Danny thought to himself. He’d heard about them, and had seen them from the outside, but had never been in one. When these homes were built some time in the 1840’s or 50’s, there weren’t any roads. All the traffic and people that came to visit the house arrived from the river.

Mr. McDowell drove through the open gates under a wooden archway. In front of the archway was a white wooden sign proclaiming in fancy black letters:

Willow Plantation

AD 1720

-Private-

As they drove down a long winding driveway, Danny had visions of walking though the kitchen to get to the main part of the house. He thought that was pretty funny for people living in such a big, fancy home.

He was going to be very disappointed. His father parked the car alongside many other cars that had arrived first. Danny and his parents walked up the huge circular driveway that led to a gorgeous main entrance.

Standing on the front porch was a beautiful woman with shoulder length golden blond hair.

Hello, she said smiling, I’m Denise Buchanan, Jack’s wife.

Danny’s father smiled, I’m Bob McDowell. This is my wife Charlotte and my son Daniel. Danny winced, he hated being called Daniel.

Mrs. Buchanan smiled, catching Danny’s expression. Please come in.

Daniel? she said, as they entered.

Danny.

Danny, she echoed, smiling. If you go straight through the living room there are some doors that lead outside. There are some other children out there that, I’m pretty sure, are playing ball.

Despite everything, Danny couldn’t help smiling at her. Mrs. Buchanan seemed to be very nice.

As he walked through the vestibule into the house, the only clue that this hadn’t always been the front of the house were the two large, curving stairways at the back of the vestibule that opened toward the large living room, not towards the front of the house, as Danny might have expected. He walked between the two wide, gorgeous stairways and into a beautiful, bright living room. Danny thought that his whole house could fit in this room. There were couches and chairs strategically placed so groups of people could sit and talk. There was a large bright Persian rug in the middle of the room and a huge stone fireplace in the back wall. Danny had no idea what made the room look so hospitable, but still he could feel how comfortable the room was, despite its size.

He walked through the living room and through two wide-open glass doors leading to a broad white porch that ran the length of the home. Crossing the porch he walked down some wide stairs to a huge manicured lawn that extended all the way to the Ashley River. There, near a stand of enormous weeping willows almost at the river’s edge, some children were throwing a softball to each other.

As Danny started across the grass towards the children, he saw something out of the corner of his eye. He turned to see a little girl in a white dress perched on a picnic table. She was looking down at her feet as they swung back and forth, her golden hair almost touching her knees. She must have sensed someone looking at her, because she looked up, and as she did, Danny’s world came to a crashing halt.

Chapter 2

It was, of course, a coincidence. There could be no doubt about that. The conversation had taken place three days earlier. Helen Ariel Buchanan sat on her mother’s lap at her makeup table as her mother brushed her five-year-old daughter’s long, golden blond hair.

I had lots of boyfriends before I met your daddy, explained Mrs. Denise Bartholomew Buchanan.

Did you like daddy right away? asked Helen

Her mother smiled. I fell in love with him the moment I first saw him, honey. And someday the same thing is going to happen to you.

Really? Her daughter asked. She turned to look at her mother with an expression so serious that her mother just had to smile.

‘Really. You’ll see someone and you’ll just know. But, it won’t happen for a very long time."

How long, mommy?

I don’t know my love. Years and years and years.

That will be fun, said Helen, smiling.

Yes it is, honey, replied her mom. When you just know, it’s very exciting and a lot of fun.

Helen missed seeing the sad, melancholy expression that briefly passed over her mother’s face.

Helen turned around and looked at herself in the mirror: a small girl with green eyes, prominent cheekbones and long golden blond hair that curled at the ends stared solemnly back at her. "I wonder if I’ve met the person I’m going to marry someday?" she said to herself. She was pretty sure she hadn’t.

Nothing had prepared him. Nothing could have prepared him. The world seemed to stop. All the sounds of summer were gone and all that was left was the most beautiful face, the most beautiful anything Danny had ever seen. He stood perfectly still, mouth open and stared at the little girl. And she looked at him. It went on for what seemed to him an eternity. Finally the little girl smiled as if she at last recognized the boy who was staring at her. "Oh, she said to herself, There he is."

And slowly, as if in a dream, she slid off the bench and smiling a smile that settled into Danny’s soul as if it had always been there and always would be, she walked over to him and took his hand.

Danny found himself hand in hand with the little girl, walking across the manicured lawn toward a beautiful white wrought iron bench, perfectly placed so it had a view of the house and the river as it made a bend and disappeared into a forest. In the distance he could hear the other children as they played catch.

They sat on the bench, still hand in hand. The little girl spoke first, I’m Helen, she said. Helen Buchanan. Her voice was exactly the way it almost had to be. Though a child’s voice, it was soft and beautiful like the breeze blowing gently through the weeping willows in the distance.

I’m Danny McDowell, he heard himself say. Danny thought hard. He needed to say something. Do you live here? he asked.

I was born here. That’s my room, she said pointing at the windows right above the living room. And my daddy’s over there, she said pointing to a thin man with black hair receding off a high forehead. He was dressed casually with an open neck shirt and sport jacket and sipping a drink as he talked to an overweight man with grey hair. Much as Danny liked Helen’s mother, he wasn’t so sure he liked her father very much. Of course, he’d also heard stories from his father when his dad didn’t think he was listening. He didn’t think Mr. Buchanan was a very nice man.

Helen looked around. Now people with drinks in their hand were milling around the huge back porch, many clustered around her father. "My mommy and daddy love giving parties, but I hate them.

Why, asked Danny?

There’s nothing to do and there’s so many people. It’s boring.

Yeah, I think so too.

Do you have a middle name? asked Helen.

I do, but I hate it.

What is it? Helen asked smiling.

Connaught, Danny said grimacing.

What does that mean? She asked.

Something stupid, Danny replied.

Mine’s Ariel.

Danny smiled looking at the beautiful child he was still holding hands with. Wow, he said. You look like an Ariel. It’s much prettier than Helen. Then quickly, Not that there’s anything wrong with Helen, he said afraid of offending the little girl sitting next to him, It’s a pretty name too. It’s just… and he didn’t know quite what else to say.

Helen was all but beaming at him. I like Ariel too. I’ll ask Mommy and Daddy to call me Ariel.

Can I call you Ariel? asked Danny.

In response, and to Danny’s utter amazement and shock, Ariel, for that was now her name as far as Danny was concerned, got up and leaned over and kissed him. Danny was stunned. His heart was pounding as if he had just run a race. But Ariel just beamed at him and sat down again. Danny realized that he was still holding her hand.

It would be a very longtime indeed, and very different circumstances before they would kiss again.

From the porch, Helen’s mother spotted her daughter on the bench where she loved to sit and read. She was sitting with the McDowell boy. As she looked on, her daughter got up from the bench, leaned over and kissed him. Even from this distance she could tell that he looked absolutely stunned. Oh my, said Denise Buchanan to herself.

Mrs. McDowell was standing nearby while her husband talked to some people from the firm. Smiling, Denise walked over and tapped Charlotte McDowell on the shoulder and motioned her to follow. They walked back to the edge of the porch and Denise pointed to the bench that her daughter shared with Danny.

Charlotte was astounded. I can’t believe it! I don’t think that Danny’s said a single word to a girl in his entire life, she said, almost laughing. Who’s the little girl?

That’s my daughter Helen," said Denise smiling.

She’s beautiful. Well, I think your daughter has mesmerized my son. I don’t know what to say, said Charlotte.

They were both smiling at each other now. Me either, said Denise. I actually think they’re holding hands

My God, said Charlotte, I think you’re right. Should we do something?

No, said Denise. Let’s leave them alone.

Charlotte realized how much she was starting to like Mrs. Denise Buchanan.

It’ll be interesting to hear what Danny has to say about this.

I’ll bet he doesn’t say a word, ventured Denise.

You’re probably right, said Charlotte. She looked back at the two children. They seemed to be talking animatedly to each other. She would have loved to have known what they were talking about. How old is she? She asked.

Five. How old is Danny?

Danny’s nine, said Charlotte. Five and nine. Well, I guess stranger things have happened.

Denise and Charlotte looked at each other and smiled.

Danny and Ariel sat on the bench talking about nothing in particular. Danny told her about Graff and how much he wanted to beat him at baseball. He’s a bully and everybody hates him, he said. Ariel talked about her parents and how hard her daddy worked and how she wished he’d spend more time with her. She talked about her friends and her dolls and the new school she’d be going to in the fall.

Ariel was going to Ashley Academy. Danny went to Benchmark 108, a public school a mile or so from his house. The Ashley Academy was actually closer, but Ariel was the only person Danny ever met who went there.

Just then a man on the porch dressed in a white dinner jacket with a black bow tie rang a bell and everybody slowly started to walk toward the picnic tables set up in neat rows along the side of the house. Danny couldn’t believe it was dinnertime already. It felt like only a few minutes had gone by. Reluctantly, he and Ariel got up and followed. They smiled at each other as Ariel went off to a table near the porch. Danny’s parents were sitting at a table much further away.

Danny sat between his mother and father.

Are you having a good time? she asked.

It’s okay, said Danny.

I’ll bet you played ball, said his dad.

I was talking to someone, Danny said simply.

Charlotte smiled.

An hour and a half later, after dessert had been served, Danny saw Ariel and her mother get up and walk in the house. Danny had hoped to talk to Ariel again after the dinner was over, but he was sure that Ariel would be going to bed.

It’s about time for us to go, said his mother.

Ariel and her mother walked up the winding staircase to her room Ariel usually liked looking out her back window at the beautiful field leading to the river, but tonight the party was in full swing. Ariel wished everyone would leave, except, of course, Danny.

I saw you talking to the McDowell boy.

Oh, he’s so nice mommy. Can he come over and play? asked Ariel.

I’m not sure honey. I think he’s a little old to want to play with a five year old girl.

He seemed to like to talk to me, said Ariel reasonably, and oh, mommy he likes to call me Ariel. Will you and daddy call me that?

Call you what, poodle? said her father, who just walked in the room, taking time from the party to say goodnight to his daughter.

Ariel. It’s so much prettier than Helen, and Danny said he likes it.

You’re named Helen after my mother, said her father with a bit of an edge to his voice.

We’ll see, whispered her mother.

Ariel smiled.

After she was tucked into bed they slipped out of the room and walked down the staircase.

Who’s Danny? Jack Buchanan asked as they walked.

He’s the McDowell’s son, said Denise smiling. She had noticed that the oddest things would set her husband off these days. She suspected that he was working too hard and could use some time off.

I don’t know who the hell he thinks he is to tell my child to change her name.

He wasn’t telling Helen to change her name. He’s a nine year old boy who thought he was giving our daughter a compliment.

Well, he should learn to keep his goddamn mouth shut, muttered Jack as they walked outside to the party, which was now in full swing.

Denise forced a smile as she walked toward the guests.

On the drive home Danny sat in the back seat. He tried to listen to his parents talking about the party, but his mind was elsewhere. Several times they tried to bring him into the conversation, but Danny just stared out of the back seat window. Any thoughts of Graff, baseball, or whether they had won or lost were gone. All he could think about was Ariel. He could see her face as she looked up at him the first time he saw her. Over and over in his mind she looked up from her seat on the picnic table and he saw her face, her beautiful hair, her smile looking almost as if she recognized him. And then they were on the bench. He could feel her hand in his, and she stood up and kissed him.

Are you going to sit in there all night? asked his father.

They were home. The car was in the garage. Danny had no idea how they got there.

He got out of the car and walked past his parents toward the house as if in a trance. His father looked quizzically at his wife, who just smiled at