PART THREE:

     Chapter One

     As the distance between my brother and me grew, I buried myself in working two jobs and going to college full time. I worked in the Circulation Department at Adams Library on the Rhode Island College Campus and at Edwards Supermarket on Niantic Avenue on the Providence/Cranston line. My days were a blur of classes and work. I'd get up at 5a.m. after working until midnight at the library the night before and catch the bus to Edwards where I was known as a speedy and friendly cashier (and, because of that, was often graced with ringing up in the Express Lane). I hid my sadness by giving my friendliness to customers, greeting them and making them feel special. It made me feel good to cause others to smile.
     Because I was always working and going to classes, I lost a lot of weight very quickly. I was down to a size 4 then a 2 and, finally a size 0. Many people began to notice and wondered if I were ill. An guy in one of my classes with whom I was friendly happened to see me working at the library and bluntly asked me in his Italian accent, "Hey, what's the matter with you? You sick?" I was shocked that he even had the nerve to go there. He continued, " Why you getting so skinny? To be honest, you'd look better with a little more meat on your bones." I was hurt. I was happy that I was skinny but I hadn't realized just how skinny I had gotten. I was working so hard. I walked almost everywhere except to Edwards alhtough I often walked from Edwards on Sundays when I missed the last bus. It was a long walk in pumps but I somehow, didn't feel the pain in my feet. Sometimes, I even walked carrying two bags of groceries (paper AND plastic, of course).
     The guy I was seeing broke up with me after only two weeks of dating because he was convinced by a campus cult to give up everything and everyone and follow them. He told me that I was causing him to sin and that his parents never really loved him. It was so unexpected. He came to greet me at my new job at CVS at closing and, on the way home via the city bus, he said to me, " God doesn't want us to be together anymore."I was so shocked and then angry. We were having a great time and I could see that it was hurting him to break up with me. Before we had even broken up, I had a dream that we went to a playground in North Providence, RI but the strange thing was that there was only one swing and the swing set and it was gently blowing in the wind. I knew it was a sign from God but I didn't know what it meant. I had never been to that playground  until a few days following the dream. It was an odd feeling. I should have knew at that point that something was going to happen and that I'd be left alone just like the lonely swing that moved with the breeze. I tried to convince him that the cult was wrong and even went to the Chaplain on campus to ask for help. The Chaplain was aware of the cult and told me how they had managed to convince many students to surrender cars, money and even courses of study to go with them. I left a Bible at my boyfriend's house with a few passages marked. The Bible was returned to me with a lengthy, heart-wrenching note. He was going to Louisiana and he wasn't interested (or so he said) in dating me anymore. I cried as I remembered how he once said I could trust him and how we used to go for walks in the warm August weather and run through sprinklers on lawns of houses and businesses. I had opened my heart and I had been hurt.
     My heart felt numb. I had managed to harden it so that I wouldn't get hurt. I was afraid of getting too close to anyone but, nevertheless, wanted someone to love me anyway. In my walks about campus, I'd look at all the young, attractive college girls chatting up the guys and felt so ugly. I didn't have nice clothes. I didn't have a car. In fact I got my driver's license late because my father called my driving trainer school and told them I felt uncomfortable driving with a male teacher which was totally incorrect. The driving school dropped me and I had to wait until after I ran away to explain to the school what had actually happened. I was so embarrassed.
     I carried that embarrassment with me throughout my college years. I had no desire for sex, just for someone to love me purely. I knew it was only a dream but I liked to dream. I knew people began to think I was a bit strange. I sometimes felt eyes pierce into my back when I'd walk by the cafeteria windows. I knew no one would want "the weirdo" on campus. It seemed all anyone cared about was figuring out my ethnicity as I was repeatedly asked, "What are you" instead of "What's your name". A group of girls who had someone found out I was part Native American screamed at me as I walked into the college cafeteria, "You stupid Indian! Go put a feather in your head! Heya, heya, heya!" They followed their loud comments by even louder laughs, causing heads to turn in my direction as my face and neck burned from embarrassment.  Weeks later, I returned to my spot in the library where  studied to find, "Stop educating niggas" and a swastika spray painted on the wall. Horrified, I ran, tears streaming from my eyes. What did I do? I was not the only person of color on campus. What had I done to be so despised? How I wanted to die! I was beginning to believe that I had actually been cursed. What was this hell on earth that I had been drenched in? Would it ever get any better? When would my days get brighter?