Briar Rose Fantasy

This is the revision of the first few pages plus some new material for Shawna Bell (working title).  I have not resolved what the crisis is, but I have decided the shelter where Mrs. Bell and Lily are sitting in is some kind of waiting room to board something to go somewhere.  Sorry, it is the way with these things.  Can’t think of anything that doesn’t seem incredibly cheesy! Without further ado, here it is:

Shawna stands on stage, microphone in hand, head thrown back as her voice echoes through the arena. Thousands of voices can be heard screaming along with the words. She is at the height of her career, her albums going double platinum, but even as the music swells inside her chest ripping out through her throat like a geyser, she feels hollow. Sweat beads on her brow causing her chocolate brown skin to glisten in the glow of the stage lights. As the last note escapes through her mouth, she drops into a quick bow. She stays that way for a second letting the crowd’s applause to roll over her. She breathes in short gasping breaths. As the energy of her fans slams into her, she, just as suddenly rises to her full height, arms flung up into the air. The crowd erupts once again with renewed clapping and cheers, begging for more. The lights go out and a disembodied voice says softly into a microphone, “Thank you.”

“That was the scene this past July at a Shawna Bell concert at Madison Square Garden in New York. Shawna Bell has shot up from working at this small Chinese restaurant just ten years ago to one of the world’s biggest African American pop singers. Mrs. Chang remembers the day Shawna came to her rescue.”

“The day my restaurant burned down, I lost my husband and my family’s livelihood in a few short hours. Shawna had work for us for two years as a teenager. That day, Shawna had returned home after two year in Army. When she heard the news, she came over right away. She had no money, she said, but she would ask her father and her church for help. She look very determined. There was this look in her eyes. I knew that she would do everything she could to help us,” the thickly accented voice of Mrs. Chang plays over news coverage of fire fighters fighting a restaurant fire.

Shawna’s eyes fill with tears as she sits in her room staring at a picture of Mr. and Mrs. Chang. They were her surrogate family, hiring her when she was only fifteen even though they could not afford to. Shawna gave them all her free time in return, even babysitting their then three year old son and two year old daughter. They fed her and worried about her. Mr. Chang even helped with her algebra homework. As the memories careened through her mind, sobs escape her throat, burning and tearing. She had not been home an hour when she turned on the TV to see the Chang’s restaurant in flames. She had not even changed out of her army fatigues.

“Shawna?” Mrs. Bell stood outside her door.

Mrs. Bell entered the room upon hearing her daughter’s sobs and said matter-of-factly, “Shawna! What is the matter?”

“Oh Mother,” she had to be careful here. She had to convince them to help and that she was not after charity.

She took a deep breath to stifle the sobs wiping her face with a handkerchief nearby.

“Mother, I just learned that a good man passed away in a fire at his restaurant. His family needs help to re-build and I-“ she broke down, “I don’t know how to ask Father for his help!”

She quickly covered her face, knowing that in her grief and anger she had already failed Mrs. Chang.

“Do you really see your father as that unfeeling? No, never mind, I can see by your look that you do. Well, don’t worry. Your father will be more than happy to help. I will organize the Ladies of the Church to start a fundraiser.” Mrs. Bell pats the hands clenched in her lap and leaves the room. Shawna looks on in astonishment.

Could it be? Will he help?

“The entire church mobilized to help me and my family. My children were very young. Luckily they were in school when the fire happened. I cooked for hundreds of volunteers as money, supplies, and contractors crawled all over our restaurant. I was so happy. People help me with my bills and taking children to school. The grand opening, everyone in the neighborhood show up. My business was better than ever after that. I have now something I can leave my children. I will always be so grateful to Shawna, Pastor Bell and his church.”

“This touching story was actually the launch of Shawna’s career. When we return, how one young woman’s actions led to the establishment of the Hong Chang Foundation and the career of a lifetime.”

The broadcast breaks for commercials, and the smartly dressed black woman sitting across from Lily turns down the volume. She looks up, lost in thought. Lily is trying not to stare. She steals glances of her as she busily crochets a baby afghan. The pink and white material gathers atop her very pregnant stomach. Her husband has left her there to look for the rest of her family. At the thought of him, Lily’s cheeks turn slightly pink. They had only been married for a few months. He had done right by her and their baby.

The older woman comes out of her reverie and notices the young woman blushing and resting a gentle hand on her stomach. The vision gave her the feeling of a warm hand touching her heart. The young girl looks up from her protruding belly to notice the older woman looking her way. Her eyes grow wide and she looks down guiltily. Now that is a puzzle. She stood up taking her small portable TV with her and walked the few steps to the bench where the young girl sat alone.

“May I join you?” her voice was cultured and clear.

“Wha? Oh, yeah, sure,” Lily said flustered as she shuffles over to make room.

“Thank you,” the older woman said as she sat down.

“That is quite beautiful. Is it for the baby?”

“Oh, this? Yeah. It’s supposed to be a blanket for my baby girl. That is if we survive long enough for my baby to use these,” she indicated the bag full of little crocheted baby garments.

“I guess this sort of thing ain’t all that important now, huh?”

“Oh no, dear child, we all will need signs that we are loved after this crisis. You continue making that lovely blanket. Your baby will know she was loved and wanted before she was ever born,” the older woman’s voice shook just a bit, but Lily decided to politely ignore the tremor.

“I don’t mean to be nosy, but what is it you’re listening to?” Lily said in order to change the subject. She sensed that her words held a past she did not wish to share.

The other woman looked startled for a second as if she had forgotten what she held in her hands. She quickly turned up the volume, but it was more concert footage from Madison Square Garden, so she ignored it for a bit to answer the young woman’s question.

“It’s a documentary on Shawna Bell. Do you know her?”

“Oh, definitely, I own just about every CD by her!” Lily said enthusiastically.

A small smile of pride danced briefly across the other woman’s face.

“She is my daughter, but we have not spoken in many years,” she said sadness coloring her voice.

She took a deep breath to dispel her gloom. She could see the pity washing away the star struck look in the young woman’s eyes. She could not abide pity.

“She did not get on well with the Pastor,” she said by way of explanation.

“I’ve heard rumors about that,” she stifled her curiosity to discover the true story behind Shawna Bell’s estrangement from her family. She asked instead, “Where is Pastor Bell now?”

Distracted by what was now playing on her small screen, Mrs. Bell did not answer.

“Shawna’s meteoric rise to pop stardom began with the vicious hate crime that resulted in the tragic death of Hong Chang from an arson fire that destroyed the restaurant he owned with his wife, Juan Chang.

“Through Shawna and her family’s actions, a movement beginning with her church spread through the community. Soon local television news, radio, and businesses were involved in the fundraising effort.

“It was becoming apparent after just a few short months that the church was raising more money than was needed for the repairs.”

Lucinda Bell sat with her husband in the stuffy church meeting room across from Minister Li and his wife from the Chinese Community Church. They had been sitting and arguing now for an hour. Both sides felt the excess funds should go to causes that their church sponsored. Pastor Bell felt the money should go to worker training programs while Minister Li insisted it should go to cultural education. Shawna had escaped minutes before for “refreshments.”

“I understand your wish to set up these programs, Minister, but you need to understand that it was my church that prompted the fundraiser in the first place. I feel that gives us some right to use the money for our church’s programs,” Pastor Bell said.

“Now, Pastor Bell, -“ Minister Li was cutoff with Shawna’s entrance.

“I feel we need to take a break. I brought some iced tea for everyone and some cookies that the lovely Ladies baked for us,” she said as she stepped through the door with a tray.

She laid the tray on the conference table, distributing the glasses of tea around the table. The effect was palpable. Both men relaxed while the wives set out the small plates, breathing a small sigh of relief. Lucinda and Mrs. Li looked at each other at hearing the other’s sigh and smiled.

“Shawna you are a darling. Thank you so much for the refreshments,” Lucinda said smiling.

“It was no problem, Mother,” Shawna sat and took a sip of her iced tea. She sat back a moment waiting for just the right moment to propose her idea.

After a few moments of companionable silence, Shawna quietly mentioned, “You know, this horrible tragedy was caused by something everyone in this room deals with on a daily basis.”

She could see she had their attention, but everyone appeared to remain at ease.

“Now if there was a way that we could turn this terrible event into something greater, something to give Mr. Chang’s death meaning,” she continued.

“What are you suggesting, Shawna?” Pastor Bell asked quietly. The Pastor is an intelligent man. He knew when he was being led.

Shawna took a deep breath before saying, “What I’m suggesting is this, why not set up some sort of program to educate people and help victims of hate crimes?”

The room was silent for several heartbeats. Shawna felt each second drum in her head, each lasting longer than the last. She searched their faces, her father’s especially, trying to decipher their thoughts.

Lucinda had never been prouder of her daughter than in that moment. She waited with baited breath to hear what the men would say. She looked across at Mrs. Li and after exchanging a glance understood that she also waited for her husband’s reaction.

“Shawna, I believe you have arrived at the crux of the matter. These people are donating because they are tired of the hatred. Minister, what are your thoughts on the matter?”

“Pastor Bell, I believe your daughter has arrived at the best use for the extra funds. I knew Hong Chang well. He was a man who did not tolerate prejudice well. In some ways he was ahead of his time. I feel Chang would be proud to be an integral part of founding this work.”

Lucinda gave her daughter a proud nod, grasping her forearm before turning to the renewed argument, this time to decide in which direction their next step would be.

Shawna kept her relief and her elation trapped inside to explore it later in the privacy of her room. She crept out of the meeting. Now that the idea was firmly planted, she felt satisfied that the church leaders would hammer out all the details.

Lucinda snapped out of her reverie for a moment to listen to the broadcast. The images on her small TV were from the charity concert that was the beginning of Shawna’s career.

Lucinda sat next to her husband listening to the church choir from a sister church. She loved gospel music; she loved how the music moved the spirit, filling her with joy. As they were filing off stage, Mrs. Bell took a look around. She noticed a diverse group of people filling the seats, and the seats were full. Tickets for the event had sold out hours after announcement on the evening news. Lucinda was still amazed by and thankful for the outpouring of support from the community.

Any constructive comments are welcome.

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