An Ever Fixed Mark, Chapter 1: Purpose in life

“That’s just not going to work, Janet. Nobody knows what a Yenta is. They might think it’s a character from Starwars,” Jasmine stated shaking her head. She was looking over her twin sister’s shoulder into the lap top computer screen Janet had only just gotten as a birthday present.

“They have to know what a Yenta is. Who doesn’t know “Fiddler On The Roof”?” Janet scoffed . She quickly broke into song giving her sister a medley. “Sunrise, sunset, sunrise, sunset....match-maker, match-maker, make me a match, find me a find, catch me a catch...if I were a rich man, yaba-daba-dibe-dibe, dah...all day long I’d biddy-biddy-bum, if I were a wealthy man...hey!...I wouldn’t have to work hard...”

Jasmine started singing along too. They at least had that in common, a love for music. With everything else, they were complete opposites, especially in their musical tastes.

“But your target audience’s only exposure to that is when Gwen Steffani sampled the “Rich man” song,”Jasmine said.

“Tell me about it! She made it unrecognizable. What is it now? Rich girl? Yuck!” Janet retorted.

“It’s not that bad,” Jasmine said grumpily.

Janet laughed. “You would say that. Then what should I call myself? Now that I know my calling in life I want to get started and I need a name and you’ve forbidden me to use my other great ideas.”

Jasmine rolled her eyes. “Get-A-Grip Matchmaking, Cut-The-Bull Dating Service, and Reality-Check For The Lovelorn are not what I consider great ideas. Insulting your potential customers is usually a bad thing if you actually want a successful business.  And really, what makes you think you’re any good at this?” Jasmine asked skeptically.

“Excuse me? You and Troy-boy would still be whining miserably thinking the other hated them if it wasn’t for me. Which reminds me, you owe me ten bucks. That’s the going rate for successful matchmaking,” Janet stated haughty tilt of her head.

Jasmine looked aghast. “Don’t I even get a family discount?” she shrieked, indignant.

Janet dismissed her with a careless wave of the hand as she shut off the lap top for the night. “You’re right, I really ought to be getting the fee from Troy.”

Jasmine crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes. “Troy and I would have been fine without you.”

“Oh, yeah, fine but miserably separate. Time for bed, kid. I do my best thinking while I’m fast asleep. Shoo, Shoo!” she said and she shunted her sister out of her room. 

Janet was truly getting a kick out of this grand idea of hers. Becoming an official matchmaker for West-Castillo high school would be a load of fun and if she actually managed to get paid for it, all the better. Jasmine and Troy weren’t her first attempt at this magic coupling, far from it. She had been matching people up for years now. Whether or not the people knew it was irrelevant. Troy and her sister had just been what got her thinking that it would be a good opportunity to make some cash but mostly to have fun. She needed some fun after this past year.

She kicked off her slippers and snuggled into bed smiling broadly in the dark. She recalled quite vividly her first match-up. Way back in the seventh grade she had been in the cafeteria listening in on several conversations around her. She munched on an apple and silently giggled at the bizarre things she was hearing. 

Joanie Lennard was whining about her dismal grade in algebra, an A minus. She was one of the smartest and most high-strung girls in the school and she cried a river any time she didn’t get A plus-plus on a paper. 

On the other side of Janet sat Frankie Norbert having a semi-violent discussion with Paul Winsler about who would win in a death match, Harry Potter or Luke Skywalker. She was tempted to ask what they thought of a match between Darth Vader and Professor Dumbledore but she thought it might ignite a massive food fight or start World War three. Down the end of the table were a miserably crying Stacy Betencort who just got cut from the cheerleading tryouts and her friend Becky Kilmer who simultaneously tried to console her and not look too pleased because she did make the cut. 

 Janet thought she might break a rib trying not to laugh out loud until she heard Tony, a tall black boy with protuberant ears. He just sat across from her and was muttering to himself while playing with whatever disaster had been served for lunch that day. 

“What the hell is wrong with her? Doesn’t she know he’s a sleaze-bag? I wouldn’t treat her like that. I’d treat her like a princess...Latisha is a princess...so beautiful, so perfect, so…”

“So, why don’t you tell her that?” Janet interjected before she could stop herself.

“Huh? You talking to me?” Tony said, his large black eyes wide in surprise. He had only just realized he had been talking to himself.

“Does she know you like her?” Janet asked curiously.

“Who?”the boy said, looking rather embarrassed now.

“The girl you’re whining about, Princess Latisha.”

“Uh... well...not exactly. We’re...just friends,” he said reluctantly.

“Well, there’s your problem. Let her know and while you’re at it tell her what exactly this guy does that makes him unacceptable,” she said.

“What guy?”

“Hello! The sleaze-bag.”

“Do you know Gerard Quincy?”

“Kid, I don’t even know who you are,” she retorted with a tilt of her head.

“I’m Tony Jackson. Who are you?”

“I’m Janet Fummel. Nice to know you,” she said holding out her hand. She smiled when he merely stared at her as if she had horns growing out of her skull. He reluctantly shook hands with her across the table. “So, tell me about this Gerard guy. What’s so bad about him?”

Tony instantly looked ready to rip someone a new one. “He’s...he’s...I hate him!”

“Yeah, I got that, but why do you say you would treat her better? How does he treat Princess Latisha?”

“Well, for one thing when he goes out with her he starts flirting with other girls right in front of her. He’s always making her cry and he tells her to shut up all the time… like he’s got something more  important to say. The moron,” he said savagely.

“And you’re not like that?” Janet said looking thoroughly amused.

“Hell no! I listen to everything she says. She’s so smart and she’s so pretty and she’ so…”

“Yeah, I get it. She’s wonderful,” Janet interjected dismissively. “Okay, so, she’s your friend and you want her away from this idiot that’s causing her nothing but grief. So, this is what you should do. You gotta kiss her.”

“What? Are you nuts? She’ll think I….”

“Like her? Heaven forbid! Why do you people always make things more difficult than it has to be?” she asked the heavens or actually, the ceiling. She noticed there was ketchup up there and she made a disgusted face at it. It’s no wonder people think teens are horrible cretins.

“By you people do you mean black people?” he asked angrily.

She stared at him blankly for a second. “No, I mean stupid love-sick teenagers who don’t know how to help themselves. Gees, kid, I’m trying to help you here not insult you. I love black people. Whitney Houston can sing like none other. Of course, that Snoop Doggy I could do without. I don’t much like anybody strung out on drugs, but that’s just me. But I really like Luther Vandrose. What a voice, smooth as silk. I was so sad to hear he died,” she continued actually looking sad now.

Tony, on the other hand, looked annoyed. “So, black people can only sing?” he asked irritably.

She watched him shrewdly for a second. “Do LeBron James, Condelezza Rice, Colin Powell and oh, let’s see…the President only sing?” she asked pointedly.

“Course not!” he shouted indignantly.

“Then you answered your own question, didn’t you? Now here’s my plan,” she continued completely unperturbed. “ You should ask her to the movies and make sure it’s a romantic comedy. Girls are total suckers for those and then when the couple on the screen go in for that oh- I’m-so-in-love-with-you kiss, you do the same with your Princess.”

He looked utterly terrified. “And what if she freaks out? She’ll hate me and then she won’t even want to be friends.  I don’t want to lose her,” he said desperately.

“Haven’t you already lost her to that jerk? Sure you can continue to be just friends. No sweat off my nose. You’d rather have her getting hurt by this Gerard bastard? I don’t care. She’s not my friend. Come on, Tony, grow a pair! If she freaks out and you’re all embarrassed about it, just say you got caught up in the movie and she’ll be okay with it if you truly are friends. But if she likes you...then Tony, my man, you are in! Just try it. What have you got to lose except your sad puppy-dog face?” she told him brightly and she stood up and walked away.

 The next week at lunch she saw Tony with a tall, stunningly beautiful black girl who could give Tyra Banks a run for her money. He waved at her, pointed at his Princess and smiled so broadly Janet had to laugh.   

She had found her purpose in life. She just didn’t know it at the time.