Faithfully
Her Name Means Star-like ; Love
She had this dream. She wanted to travel across the state, from the top to the very bottom. And she wanted me to come with her.
I have it all figured out, she said. By the time we reach the bottom, we will have spent exactly six weeks traveling.
Six weeks. Of course she would plan it perfectly for six weeks.
I would go with her, because it was the last six weeks I would ever see her.
It would be the last six weeks she would live.
Of course I agreed. I would do anything to spend time with her and she seemed resolute about going on this trip, with or without me. I wasn’t going to let her travel the coast of California alone, not when she was this close to…leaving.
So, I had packed my bags and convinced my dad to let me have the old truck I knew he didn’t use. I had helped her pack and we were on our way.
I met Estella Jackson when we she was 12, and I was 13. We were in the 7th grade, and she was my partner for science. She was the new kid and I was the one who was stuck with her, because our teacher thought I could teach her how things worked in class. Our assignment was to cut up a frog and I expected her to be squeamish, like all the other girls in the class, and shy, like most new kids. However, even at 12 she was the most interesting person I had ever met. She immediately started talking about herself and where she was from all while grabbing a pair of scissors and cutting right into the frog. I was stunned by her.
She was born in New York, and from the time she was 4 years old, she had known what she wanted to do with her life.
“I’m going to be on Broadway. I would like to start out playing Fanny from Funny Girl, and then perhaps move on to Wendla from Spring Awakening.” She had told me as she cut up the frog, completely content to be the one to talk. I just watched as this twelve year old girl came into my life, fully confident in herself. I could only dream of having that sort of confidence, especially at 13. I was always worried about something, especially during this awkward time. I was going through that phase where I was learning that girls didn’t have cooties, and I was starting to notice them and how some girls were really pretty. Estella wasn’t a classic beauty. I probably would have never given her a second glance if it hadn’t been for the fact that she was so happy with herself that she didn’t care about anyone else.
I learned a lot about her in that year. Her mother had died of AIDS when Estella was 9, and there was a slight chance she could have contracted the disease from her mother.
“I’m not worried about it, though. The way I see it, life will give me my chance to shine, and then once I’ve accomplished everything I want to, it will be time for me to go.” She told me after she had told me how her mom had died. I couldn’t imagine life without my mother, and
I admired her for being so strong even though she was so young. I asked her how she dealt with it so easily.
“Oh, it isn’t easy,” She responded, shrugging. “But nothing is ever easy if it’s worth it. I love her and I love my dad. If I acted weak, I would hurt my dad.” She spoke as if it was the simplest thing in the world and I should have realized it without having to ask. She was extremely brilliant, and, as I would come to learn, extremely talented. She wasn’t simply dreaming about being on Broadway, she was going to do something about it.
When she was 14 and I was 15, in our freshman year of high school, she auditioned for the school musical, West Side Story. I had joined as a member of the running crew at her request.
“I’m going to get in, and since you’re so adamant about not singing, you can at least join the crew so we can still spend time together,” She had told me while she signed her name on the audition sheet. “It will be fun, I promise.”
I had just shaken my head at her confidence, but I went to the auditions for her. She walked onto the stage as if she owned it, smiled down at the director and the choir teacher as if she were sharing some secret with them, and opened her mouth, belting out into a song from some musical I didn’t know. I don’t think anyone in that auditorium was expecting the voice she had, especially from a girl so young. When she was finished, she merely grinned triumphantly, thanked them for their time, and then walked off the stage, motioning for me to follow her out.
She landed the lead, the first freshman ever to get a lead in the musical. From that day on I knew she would always make her goal of being on Broadway, and I had no doubts.
I have it all figured out, she said. By the time we reach the bottom, we will have spent exactly six weeks traveling.
Six weeks. Of course she would plan it perfectly for six weeks.
I would go with her, because it was the last six weeks I would ever see her.
It would be the last six weeks she would live.
Of course I agreed. I would do anything to spend time with her and she seemed resolute about going on this trip, with or without me. I wasn’t going to let her travel the coast of California alone, not when she was this close to…leaving.
So, I had packed my bags and convinced my dad to let me have the old truck I knew he didn’t use. I had helped her pack and we were on our way.
I met Estella Jackson when we she was 12, and I was 13. We were in the 7th grade, and she was my partner for science. She was the new kid and I was the one who was stuck with her, because our teacher thought I could teach her how things worked in class. Our assignment was to cut up a frog and I expected her to be squeamish, like all the other girls in the class, and shy, like most new kids. However, even at 12 she was the most interesting person I had ever met. She immediately started talking about herself and where she was from all while grabbing a pair of scissors and cutting right into the frog. I was stunned by her.
She was born in New York, and from the time she was 4 years old, she had known what she wanted to do with her life.
“I’m going to be on Broadway. I would like to start out playing Fanny from Funny Girl, and then perhaps move on to Wendla from Spring Awakening.” She had told me as she cut up the frog, completely content to be the one to talk. I just watched as this twelve year old girl came into my life, fully confident in herself. I could only dream of having that sort of confidence, especially at 13. I was always worried about something, especially during this awkward time. I was going through that phase where I was learning that girls didn’t have cooties, and I was starting to notice them and how some girls were really pretty. Estella wasn’t a classic beauty. I probably would have never given her a second glance if it hadn’t been for the fact that she was so happy with herself that she didn’t care about anyone else.
I learned a lot about her in that year. Her mother had died of AIDS when Estella was 9, and there was a slight chance she could have contracted the disease from her mother.
“I’m not worried about it, though. The way I see it, life will give me my chance to shine, and then once I’ve accomplished everything I want to, it will be time for me to go.” She told me after she had told me how her mom had died. I couldn’t imagine life without my mother, and
I admired her for being so strong even though she was so young. I asked her how she dealt with it so easily.
“Oh, it isn’t easy,” She responded, shrugging. “But nothing is ever easy if it’s worth it. I love her and I love my dad. If I acted weak, I would hurt my dad.” She spoke as if it was the simplest thing in the world and I should have realized it without having to ask. She was extremely brilliant, and, as I would come to learn, extremely talented. She wasn’t simply dreaming about being on Broadway, she was going to do something about it.
When she was 14 and I was 15, in our freshman year of high school, she auditioned for the school musical, West Side Story. I had joined as a member of the running crew at her request.
“I’m going to get in, and since you’re so adamant about not singing, you can at least join the crew so we can still spend time together,” She had told me while she signed her name on the audition sheet. “It will be fun, I promise.”
I had just shaken my head at her confidence, but I went to the auditions for her. She walked onto the stage as if she owned it, smiled down at the director and the choir teacher as if she were sharing some secret with them, and opened her mouth, belting out into a song from some musical I didn’t know. I don’t think anyone in that auditorium was expecting the voice she had, especially from a girl so young. When she was finished, she merely grinned triumphantly, thanked them for their time, and then walked off the stage, motioning for me to follow her out.
She landed the lead, the first freshman ever to get a lead in the musical. From that day on I knew she would always make her goal of being on Broadway, and I had no doubts.