Bryson checked his reflection in the boys room mirror, smoothing out his hair with his hands, and making sure his tie was straight. He had chosen a more colorful one than he would normally wear, keeping in mind that his audience was a group of nine-year-olds. “You about done?” he asked his oldest friend in the world, Richie Campbell, who was taking an awfully long time in one of the stalls. The sound of the commode flushing gave him his answer. Richie joined him by the sinks to wash up and groom. “Man, I feel sick,” Richie commented as he dried his hands on a paper towel and refocused on his own reflection in the mirror. “You got it bad for this chick, don’t ya?” Bryson asked with a laugh. “Hell, I haven’t been this nervous about asking a girl out since middle school,” Richie answered with a nervous laugh.
Bryson shook his head as he studied his friend. Richie’s unruly brown hair and soft round features were a stark contrast to Bryson’s smooth, wavy black hair and chiseled jaw. They had been friends since high school although they had both taken very different career paths, paths that neither of them had expected to take.
“Just be sure and do a good presentation,” Richie said. “I want to look good, ya know?”
“No problem,” Bryson advised. “I do great presentations. As far as how you look, I’m not a magician.” Bryson barely avoided getting slugged in the arm as they left the boys room. Richie introduced Bryson to the object of his affection, Ellen Case, as she stood waiting by her classroom door, and then left for his own class. Bryson could see why a guy like Richie would be nervous as he took in the elegant beauty of Ms. Case’s face, the leanness of her legs and the gracefulness of her stance. She had to be the best looking teacher he had ever seen. OK, he told himself as he settled in at the stool that had been placed beside the teacher’s desk at the front of the room, I have to be impressive so she can report to Richie that I was impressive and for some reason or another, that’ll give him the confidence to ask her out. Richie’s way of thinking was often strange but Bryson didn’t question it. That was how he found himself in front of a classroom of fourth graders, about to give a lecture about success and how education and the right choices can shape your future.
“Quiet down, everyone,” Ms. Case silenced the room of chattering children. “Class, this is Bryson Rhodes. Mr. Rhodes is a very successful businessman, and owns his own company, Rhodes Incorporated. Mr. Rhodes is going to tell us all about what he does and the steps he took to get where he is today. Let’s all be very respectful and listen close. You may just learn a great deal from Mr. Rhodes.” She gave a stern look to two rough looking boys in the back row and then turned back to Bryson. “You’re on,” she said with a wink.
Bryson stood before the class, reciting a speech he had given at several schools over the last few months. Everything went as planned, with the children laughing in the right spots, dropping their mouths open in astonishment at the right spots, and looking genuinely interested in his life. Bryson noticed himself continuously focusing on one little girl during the lecture. She was a cute little girl with two long black braids at the sides of her head, sharp features and emerald green eyes, a deep shade of green that Bryson hadn’t seen since shortly after his high school days. When it came time to answer questions the girl shot up her hand and asked how much money Bryson made a year. “Bryanna , people don’t ask those kinds of things, it’s not considered polite,” Ms. Case scolded. “Oh, it’s alright,” Bryson said. “Let’s just say it’s a whole lot.” The girl smiled at him with an achingly familiar twinkle in her eye that Bryson couldn’t seem to place and the way she turned up the right side of her mouth made him shiver. Something told him he knew this girl although he hadn’t a clue how that was possible. He continued to answer questions, his attention often returning to the girl, Bryanna. That’s kind of a unique name, he thought, surely I’d remember it if she were a daughter of a colleague. The question session ended but Bryson hung around anyway, his curiosity eating at him. He watched the girl as she chatted with two friends that were seated by her and slowly he began to figure out why he was so drawn to her. Her cheekbones were well defined, her jaw very angular, her lips thin and just slightly wide, and Bryson began to wonder if her jet-black hair would be wavy if not braided. He could feel his heartbeat quicken as it sunk in that this girl was almost a mirror image of himself. Everything but the color of the eyes matched. His were a steel gray. The last time he saw eyes that deeply green was ten years before, when he walked away from his young wife, Ramble Reeves. Her eyes were just as intense, the greenness shining through behind the tears as she watched him leave. It can’t be, Bryson thought, our baby died.
The final bell of the day rung and the children leapt from their seats, ready to get home or to the park, wherever they were going to. Bryson watched the girl walk out of the room, fighting back the urge to grab her.
“Are you alright, man?” Richie asked as he entered the classroom. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”
“Here.” Ms. Case offered him a tissue to wipe his face. He had broken out into a cold sweat and was shaking. “That girl,” he managed to get out, “Bryanna...”
“What about her?,” Ms. Case asked as Richie sat on a desk in front of Bryson and gazed down with his arms folded in front of his chest. Bryson realized he had to be crazy but he couldn’t fight the feeling. That girl had to be his, she just had to be.
“Richie, My baby died, right?” Suddenly what he knew for a fact didn’t ring quite true . He needed some reassurance.
“Yeah, “ Richie answered, concern in his voice, “What in the world is wrong with you? Why are you bringing up the child that you and Ramble lost?”
“And what does that have to do with Bryanna?” Ms. Case asked. She was looking at him weird and suddenly Bryson felt like a fool. “Nothing,” he shrugged as he wiped the sweat from his brow and tossed the tissue into the nearby wastebasket. “I’m losing my mind, that girl just looked so much like me it seemed and she had those same deep green eyes as Ramble.” He noticed Ms. Case giving him another funny look. “Ramble was my wife,” he explained. “Well, actually, we never really divorced, we just split apart. We had lost a child.”
“That‘s interesting,” Ms. Case said hesitantly as she turned her back to Bryson and walked over to the window. “I don’t want to send you on a wild goose hunt and I don’t want to break any school policies so there’s only so much I can say but I find it interesting that you would say something like that and now that you’ve said it, I also see a striking resemblance.” She paused and bit her lower lip as she returned her gaze to the two men.
“What is it, Ellen?” Richie asked, looking between Bryson and her like they were both out of it.
“Bryanna...” she said, “well, her last name is Rhodes.”
Bryson felt like he had been punched in the stomach. He looked at Richie with wide eyes as he tried to find words. Could it possibly be? Could he actually have a child? “I have to know who her mother is,” he said as he leapt from his seat and started to pace the floor. “I have to know.”
“I can’t give you any information besides what I just did,” Ellen advised him. “That might have even been too much.”
“It’s crazy what you’re thinking,” Richie raised from where he had been seated on a desk. “Ramble lost the baby. I went to the hospital with you. That girl can’t be yours.”
“Then why does she look just like me?” Bryson asked. He knew it didn’t make sense but it had to be true .
“Mr. Rhodes,” Ellen caught his attention. Once again she was standing by the windows with her arms folded in front of her, gazing out upon the street along the side of the school. She looked at him for a moment as she rubbed her left arm with her right hand, and lightly chewed the corner of her bottom lip. After a moment she quickly said, “Bryanna’s mother picks her up in front of the school. She’ll be here soon.”
Bryson turned and ran out of the room, down the hallway and down the stairs, nearly knocking down anyone who didn’t get out of the way fast enough. He couldn’t miss seeing the girl’s mother. He broke through the front doors like a horse out of the gate at the Kentucky Derby, nearly running over a girl that had stooped down to tie her shoe. He didn’t see Bryanna. He could feel his heart thud as he imagined just missing the girl get picked up. He scanned the faces around the schoolyard but none looked like him. Then two kids moved away from a group that had formed by the flagpole and he saw the two black braids. She was still there. Relax, he told himself, I might just be crazy, Rhodes isn’t that uncommon of a name.
He had finally started to get his breathing back under control when a copper Taurus slowed down along the curb. “Bye!” Bryanna waved farewell to her friends as she crossed over to the car. A woman emerged from the driver side, a woman that Bryson recognized instantly although her hair color was different. “Just a sec, honey,” she said, “I gotta check the trunk. I might have left your bag at home.” Bryanna slid into the passenger side of the car as her mother went to the back to check the trunk. With the trunk raised, it was impossible to see Bryson approach. He waited patiently as he heard her rummaging through the trunk. Once the trunk was shut back, the woman gasped and backed away. Bryson couldn’t tell if she was in shock or just plain scared.
“Hello Ramble,” Bryson said calmly.
