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Into White
by
David W. Landrum
I
am an albino girl.
I have no pigment
in my skin. My
hair and flesh
are white—and
I don’t
mean white in
the sense we usually
use the word,
as in “Caucasian.”
I mean white like
a piece of paper
or a marshmallow.
I have Type 1
Oculocutaneous
Albinism. I do
not have a drop
of pigment in
my body. I am
completely white.
I
met Sossity Chandler
when she opened
for us once. This
was before her
superstar days,
when she played
the bars and coffee
houses around
Grand Rapids .
It amuses me now
to realize that
in those days
we were better
known than she
was and she only
came out as a
local preliminary
performer to our
band, Mudlucious.
I could tell she
would go places,
however, when
she upstaged us
that night.
The
guy I was dating
at the time, Drew
Mason, introduced
us.
“Sossity,
this is Sarah.
You’ll have
to excuse her,
she’s a
little nervous
about playing
tonight. She always
looks pale under
those circumstances.”
“Drew,
knock it off,
will you?”
I said, the annoyance
sounding in my
voice a little
more than I had
intended. “Sossity,
I’m happy
to meet you. I
heard you play
at Rocky’s
a couple of weeks
ago.”
“Do
you play with
the band for a
living or do you
have a day job?”
she asked.
“I’m
only local with
the band. I don’t
tour with the
guys. I work at
Saint Mary’s
as a lab tech
in the Heart Center
. I like my work
and I like the
people I work
with, so I’m
not ready to take
the plunge and
go full-time with
the band.”
“We
trying to talk
her into it every
day,” Drew
put in.
“It’s
a big decision,”
Sossity said.
“I’m
glad you like
your job, Sarah.
Not a lot of people
can say that.”
“If
she played music
full time for
us,” Drew
interjected, “she’d
like her job a
whole lot better.”
As I said, Sossity
upstaged us. She
was supposed to
do fifteen minutes
of music—about
four songs. She
ended up, at the
audience’s
request, playing
for half an hour.
And when the second
act began, the
audience demanded
she open for that
as well (a thing
opening acts never
do), so the owner
of the place told
us to at least
let her do two
or three numbers.
She only did two,
but Drew was thoroughly
pissed off. He
said she was a
grandstanding
little bitch and
he would never
let her open for
us again.
I saw her two
days later. I
had popped into
a bar where I
was supposed to
meet my friend
Cynthia for a
drink. I sat down
and she called
and said she would
be a little late.
I hate drinking
alone. There’s
nothing worse
than you and your
drink and no one
to talk with.
Someone called
my name. I turned
around and saw
Sossity Chandler.
She sat at a table
with two guys.
One was Asian,
quite good looking—chiseled
face, strong body,
almond-shaped
eyes and dark
skin. Beside him
sat a guy with
sandy brown hair
and brown eyes,
tall—very
tall—I would
guess his height
at six-six or
taller. His long
arms and powerful
hands caught my
attention. Sossity
waved.
“Sarah!”
I went over to
her table. She
leaned forward
and hugged me.
“Let me
introduce you
to my friends.”
The Asian guy
was Jerry Watanabe,
her date, and
the other was
Tommy Sendek.
“He’s
a basketball player,”
Jerry put in.
“Who
do you play for?”
He gave me the
name of a local
university.
“They
have a big game
in couple of days,
don’t they?”
I asked.
I’m not
a sports fan but
for the first
time in years
one of the local
colleges had won
our district and
might go on to
the championship.
Everyone was talking
about it. You
heard the talk
whether you wanted
to hear it or
not. Drew’s
brother played
on the team.
“We
have a chance
to go to the national
tournament,”
Tommy said. “And
I’m getting
close to breaking
the Michigan college
scoring record.”
Obviously Tommy
had taken my appearance
in but he did
not stare or make
any remark about
my being white.
I
sat down and ordered
a peach daiquiri.
“I’m
playing tonight,”
Sossity told me.
“I’ve
got a bass and
a drummer. We’re
doing blues.”
“I
like the way you
play blues.”
“Tonight
I’m plugged
in. I’ve
brought my Strat.”
“What
are you doing?”
I asked.
“Standard
thirty-six bar.
Robert Johnson,
some Leadbelly.
We’re doing
a couple of old
Animals songs.
You know ‘For
Miss Caulker’?”
I laughed. “My
mom and dad had
that song on an
old 45. It was
the flip side
of ‘Bring
it on Home to
Me. ’ When
I learned to play
piano I learned
both those songs.
I played them
over and over.”
“We’re
doing ‘Bring
it on Home to
Me’ too.
You want to sit
in on our session?”
I stirred from
surprise and unease.
“I mean,”
she continued,
“it will
all be straight
progression. If
you know blues
you’ll be
able to improv.
The bar keeps
a piano on stage.
What do you say?”
I thought playing
the blues with
Sossity would
be very cool,
but I hesitated.
I glanced at her.
She had on a short
purple dress and
patterned hose.
I wore a sweater
and a denim mini.
“I
don’t know.
I’m not
dressed up.”
“You
look great. Besides,
who gives a damn?
This is a jam,
not a fashion
show.”
I hesitated.
“Afraid
of what Drew might
say?”
I blushed. And,
believe me, when
I blush it is
highly visible.
She had gone right
to the heart of
my reticence.
“Well
. . . I guess
I do hesitate.
He would be mad
about it. He wasn’t
very happy that
you stole the
show the other
night.”
“I
didn’t plan
that or try to
do it. It just
happened.”
“I
know. He was ticked
off because he’s
such a twit. I’d
love to stand
in with your band,
Sossity. Let’s
go for it.”
We
finished our drinks.
A rock band played
first. Since Sossity's
boyfriend was
with her, I naturally
fell in with Tommy.
We had to sit
close and lean
in to hear over
the band. We talked
about our backgrounds.
“I
work at the heart
center,”
I told him, “as
a research assistant.
I tried college
for a while but
dropped out. My
parents said they’d
pay my way to
Aquinas, but I
didn’t want
to go.”
“Are
you Catholic?”
“Lutheran,
but I’m
not into religion
much.”
Jerry had overheard
the last part
of our conversation.
He leaned over,
“He’s
Jewish,”
he said, “and
the top scorer
on their team.
But he won’t
play on Jewish
holidays, though,
and that pisses
his coach off.”
Tommy
seemed embarrassed
at the mention
of his religion.
The band started
up again. He asked
if I wanted to
dance. We went
out on the floor
and danced for
three numbers.
He was good and
I had fun with
him. Only when
we were both on
our feet did I
get an idea of
how tall he was
and how strong.
He moved with
a grace I have
seen only in guys
who study ballet
or are top athletes.
The band finished
their show. As
we walked toward
our table he smiled
at me. He seemed
shy. I smiled
back at him.
“You’re
a good dancer,”
I said, and I
stood on my tip-toes
gave him a quick
kiss. We settled
into our table.
Sossity told me
we would play
in twenty minutes.
Sossity
and I went to
the Ladies Room.
I asked her if
Tommy was dating
anyone.
“Not
now. A lot of
girls are chasing
him, though.”
“He’s
Jewish?”
“Right.”
“He
seems pretty devout.”
“He’s
very devout. He
takes his religion
seriously. I admire
people like that.”
“Then
he probably only
dates Jewish girls.”
“No.
He’s dated
two of my friends.
One was Protestant,
one Orthodox.”
She looked at
me, eyes amused.
“Why? Interested?”
I
felt defensive.
“Maybe,”
I said.
“Well
he’s definitely
interested in
you. He told me
that when you
went outside to
call your friend.
He said he thought
you were awesome.”
She held up one
hand. “Please
don’t tell
him I told you
that. He’s
shy and he’ll
run away if he
knows you know
he likes you.”
I
promised her I
would not say
a word. The news
that he found
me attractive
was heartening
because I thought
he was pretty
cool. We went
back out, finished
out drinks and
went up on stage
to play.
Our
jam session went
off fabulously.
I did five songs
with the band—the
two Animals hits
we had talked
about but then
three standard
numbers where
we did alternating
solos. Sossity
knew how to sing
the blues and
she belted out
a gusty vocal
that reminded
me of Janis Joplin
or Bonnie Tyler
and did great
riffs on her Fender
Stratocaster.
I even took a
vocal on one of
the numbers. When
we finished and
I stepped down
I was elated.
The crowd cheered
for me so much
I came back up
and took a bow.
Finally, they
quieted down for
the next number
and I sat down
by Tommy.
He
congratulated
me in his shy
way, saying I
was a great player
and singer and
had done a good
job. I smiled
at him, glowing
with the excitement
of the performance.
I liked him. Sossity
played for another
forty minutes
or so then ended
the show.
She
came back to the
table. We sat
there—six
of us, Sossity,
Jerry, Tommy,
the drummer and
bass player—and
drank and talked.
Sossity got drunk
(she gets drunk
a lot) and started
to tell me a story
about Drew.
“I
used to play music
at an open mic
Drew emceed. I
would ask him
if he wanted to
jam and play the
blues together.
He’d always
say, ‘Sure,
let’s do
it.’ Then
right before we
were scheduled
to go up, he’d
say ‘My
guitar isn’t
sounding good,’
or make up some
other excuse.
After the third
time, I started
to get the idea
that he had no
intention whatsoever
of playing with
me.”
“That’s
Drew,” her
drummer put in.
“You know
the type: alpha
male.”
That
made me laugh,
maybe more than
I should have,
because it was
so true. It also
struck me that
he was the alpha
male and I was
his protected
female. Maybe,
I thought ironically,
he preferred an
exotic member
of the species
and that was why
he kept me around.
Cynthia,
my friend, finally
showed up and
joined us. She
saw a boyfriend
and eventually
left with him.
I had to work
tomorrow so at
around 1 a.m.
I told Sossity
and the gang I
needed to go.
“I’ll
walk you to your
car,” Tommy
said.
I
was glad he offered.
Rocky’s
is not in the
nicest section
of town and I’d
parked my car
on a side street
a long block away.
He walked me to
where it was parked.
I turned to face
him.
“Can
I call you?”
he asked.
“Tommy,
I’d really
like that.”
I gave him my
card (I’d
had some made
at the hospital).
He took it and
then leaned down
for a kiss.
He
gave me a long
good-night kiss.
It was sweet.
I said I had to
go. He stood there
until I pulled
out. As I drove
away I saw him
walk back into
the bar.
Drew
was at my apartment
on Sunday and
I told him about
Rocky’s.
He was unhappy
about it and told
me so in no uncertain
terms.
“Why,
are you so pissed,
Drew? It was fun.
It was good experience
at doing impov.”
“I
told you she’s
a grandstander.
She might cut
into our gigs
if we let her
get too much stage
time.”
I
laughed. He gave
me a hard look.
“What’s
so funny?”
Sometimes
you are thinking
about making a
choice in life
and realize you
have already made
it.
“You
are, Drew. You’re
funny. I think
you and I are
finished.”
He
walked up close
to me. Part of
it was to intimidate
me but it was
also because he
felt genuinely
bewildered.
“Sarah,
what are you talking
about?”
I
walked to the
other side of
the room and then
turned to face
him. I did not
like him standing
so close to me.
“Drew,
we’re finished.
I don’t
like being around
you. You’re
too demanding.
And I don’t
like you always
making jokes about
how I look.”
His
mouth fell open.
He spread his
hands.
“I
only do that because
you’re so
cool about it
and accept yourself
so well.”
“I
know,” I
said. He was making
me nervous. “But
it’s been
bugging me lately.
I don’t
like the way you
make a spectacle
out of me all
the time. We need
to back off. I
don’t think
I want to play
in the band anymore.
And let’s
stay away from
each other for
a while—both
of us need some
perspective, I
think.”
He
put his hands
on his hips and
glared. The look
on his face unsettled
me. I did not
think he would
do anything stupid
but I also knew
how he was when
his temper got
the better of
him.
Just
then a knock came
at the door.
Relieved
that something
had broken the
tension, and also
that someone else
had come so I
did not have to
face Drew by myself,
I hurried over
to answer. It
was Sossity and
Jerry.
They had been
to visit a friend
at Saint Mary’s
hospital and remembered
my address. I
live in a brownstone
only a couple
of blocks from
Saint Mary’s.
I told them to
come in.
Drew
looked pretty
stupid standing
in the middle
of the living
room, a scowl
on his face, his
fists clenched.
Both Sossity and
Jerry smiled when
they saw him.
“You
okay, Drew?”
Sossity asked,
her eyes merry.
He
glared at her
as well, so much
that Jerry gave
him a look.
“Something
wrong?”
he asked.
Drew
relaxed a little.
“We
were having a
discussion,”
I said. The tension
in the room was
tangible. “Drew,
why don’t
you get some beer
out the refrigerator?”
He
scowled but did
what I told him.
The four of us
sat down at my
kitchen table
and sipped Sierra
Nevada IPA. Drew
sat there like
a sulky child.
Jerry and Sossity
kept smirking
and rolling their
eyes when he could
not see them.
He listened to
our conversation
but did not participate.
We talked about
our jobs. Jerry
was a software
engineer. I told
about being a
researcher at
the Heart Center
over on the Bradford
and Leonard near
Cornerstone University
. Then we got
on the subject
of how good the
music sounded
at Rocky’s
the other night.
Drew
stood and walked
to the window.
Then he came over
to the table.
“So
what’s the
idea of trying
to take my piano
girl, Sossity?”
We
were all too surprised
to answer. After
a minute, though,
the crassness
of him calling
me his “piano
girl” hit
me.
“Drew,
you need to leave,”
I told him.
I
won’t say
what he said,
but it was pretty
crude. In a flash,
Jerry was on his
feet. Drew retreated
a couple of steps
but then lunged
at Jerry. Before
I knew what had
happened, Drew
was on the floor.
He lay there,
confused for a
few seconds, then
got to his feet
and rushed at
Jerry again. I
screamed. Jerry
grabbed his arm
and twisted it.
Drew bellowed
in pain.
“Sarah
told you to leave,”
Jerry said. “I
think you’d
better do what
she said.”
He lifted Drew’s
arm just slightly.
He roared in agony
and sank almost
to his knees.
“Let’s
go out the door.
Now start walking.”
He pushed Drew
toward the kitchen
door, all the
while keeping
his grip firm.
In a moment, he
had pushed him
outside and walked
him down the steps.
Jerry
let him go.
“Don’t
come back in or
you’ll get
a lot worse than
what you just
got.” He
pointed. “Go.”
Drew
gaped at him.
Too stunned and
in too much pain
to answer, he
turned and walked
off toward where
his car was parked.
Jerry stood there
until he drove
away then turned
and went back
inside.
I
cried. Sossity
and Jerry comforted
me. After I calmed
down, I thanked
Jerry for getting
Drew out of the
apartment and
complimented him
on his ability
at the martial
arts.
“Just
call me Jackie
Chan,” he
grinned.
“Where
did you learn
karate?”
I asked.
He
smiled. “Karate?
Please! Karate
is so crude! That
was jujitsu—Japanese,
and the grandmother
of all martial
arts. Nothing
like a good joint-lock
to convince someone
they need to leave
the room.”
I
laughed. I need
to laugh. We sat
back down and
finished our beer.
Sossity asked
Jerry to step
outside just a
moment. After
he left, she came
over and put her
head against mine.
“Sarah,
you need to stay
at my place tonight.
He might come
back.”
“You
don’t think
he’d do
that, do you,
Sossity?”
“I
wouldn’t
put it past him.
Drew can be a
pretty nasty guy.
I think you ought
to stay with me
just to be on
the safe side.”
What
she said made
sense. We both
knew that side
of Drew. I told
her I would be
over to her place
at five. She said
good-bye and left
with Jerry.
When
she left I cried
more. The whole
thing had exhausted
me. I locked the
doors and windows,
took a shower,
laid down on the
bed, and eventually
dozed off.
My
phone ringing
woke me up. I
wondered if it
was Sossity. I
waited, too, wondering
if it might be
Drew. Sure enough,
it was. I didn’t
answer but let
it record.
Again,
I won’t
say what he said
because I don’t
like using that
kind of language.
I will repeat
one thing, and
that was that
he called me a
“pink.”
I
had never been
called this before,
and I think it
is the first time
in my life someone
has ever used
an epithet like
that to demean
me. I had heard
the term. Once
I watched a film
called Powder.
It was about an
albino kid. I
generally liked
the movie, but
it struck me as
kind of silly
because all the
kids in his school
and community
persecute him
and reject him
because of his
appearance—just
the opposite of
my experience.
I doubt that with
today’s
emphasis on diversity
and inclusion
that sort of thing
would really happen,
even in a small
town, but I remember
one of the things
the other kids
called him was
“a pink.”
So
it struck me as
curious and even
amusing. Humans
who are albino
don’t have
pink eyes, only
animal albinos
have pink eyes.
I smiled. Drew
did not even know
how to pull off
a proper insult.
I
went to Sossity's
house that night
and told her what
he had done.
“Call
the police. It’s
illegal to make
harassing phone
calls.”
“Sossity,
I don’t
think I could
do that. It would
ruin his career
as a musician.”
“Don’t
accommodate him.
He has no right
to intimidate
you. And if did
that who knows
what else he might
do.”
I
promised I would
report it tomorrow.
Sossity put on
some music, got
out a bottle of
Hibiki, an expensive
Japanese whisky.
One thing that
disturbs me about
Sossity is that
she drinks so
much. She’s
drunk about half
the time I see
her. I asked her
she came by such
expensive booze.
“I
got it at Sutton’s
Bay. A rich guy
was hitting on
me and bought
it as a sort of
gift/bribe after
one of my concerts.”
“Hitting
on you? Did he
get anywhere?”
She
smiled and raised
her eyebrows.
“Wouldn’t
you like to know?”
About
that time Jerry
called and asked
if he could come
over. Sossity
suggested we call
Tommy. He was
free that night
and said he would
be over.
I’ll
skip the details
of that night.
We hung around
Sossity's apartment,
flew in Jerry’s
plane, and generally
had a great time.
Tommy invited
me to come to
his house for
the Sabbath next
week. I told him
I would be there.
I
had never been
asked on a date
to do something
religious, but
things went well
and I had a great
time. His parents
were very natural
about their religion,
and I settled
in and enjoyed
the meal. After
we had finished,
Tommy asked me
if I wanted to
go for a walk.
“Can
you do that on
the Sabbath?”
I quipped.
He
grinned. “As
long as you don’t
go outside the
city limits. If
you do, you’re
only allowed to
go 2000 paces.”
I
laughed. “I
had to ask.”
We
walked down his
street. Night
had fallen. The
stars gleamed
in the sky. The
Sendeks lived
on a tree-lined
street. Tommy
held my hand and
then put his arm
around me.
“You’re
quiet tonight,”
I said.
“I’ve
got a lot on my
mind.”
“About
what?”
“The
game. It’s
a lot of pressure
on all of us.”
He paused and
then added, “I’m
also only a few
points away from
breaking the scoring
record for Michigan
collegiate ball.
I’m a little
stressed out about
that too.”
“Why?”
“On
the one hand,
I’m competitive.
I would not be
a good athlete
if I weren’t.
So I want to break
the mark, and
that’s on
my mind. On the
other hand, it
seems like a lot
of silly crap.
I asked myself
why I should care
and why I’m
getting all stressed
out about it.”
“I
was never much
of an athlete.”
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