A Southern Place by Elaine Drennon Little

activities throughout the year, some religious occasions, others simply labeled as “parent weekends.” Phil’s father dropped him off in September as necessary, and no other family member saw him until the next Christmas. Concerned about Phil’s family life, his religious studies teacher sent a special invitation for the Easter Pageant.
    Dear Mr. and Mrs. Foster,
    Your son, Phillip, has been a joy to the King’s family for six years. Although his academic achievements are not up to national standards, his work ethic, dedication to improving, and willingness to help others make him a fine example of the Savior’s command to “let your light shine.” Recently admitting that he is considering a career in the clergy, we felt moved to share this wonderful news with you.
    Phillip has been chosen to portray the role of Christ in our upcoming Passion Play, held each night during Easter Week. We would be honored for you and your family to share this blessed occasion with us.
    In Christ,
Rev. Ronald Edwards
    Phil’s family did not share the blessed occasion; in fact, Phil was not allowed to participate in the play. Phil’s father found a “more academic” school for him in north Georgia, and Phil transferred the last week of March, before Easter.
    The Darlington School, established in 1905, was bigger than King’s and housed rich kids from six continents and forty-seven countries. There were crystal-looking springs and brooks running between hundred-year-old oaks, with the Blue Ridge mountains to the east and the quaint little city of Rome, Georgia to the west. The dorms resembled castles, but the classroom buildings were new and state-of-the-art. The school cafeteria was divided into three sections; a burger grill that also featured steaks and chicken, an Italian eatery, and an ethnic restaurant, offering the foods of a different country each night of the week. Students wore uniforms to class and expensive designer clothing the rest of the time. They were the most hateful, spoiled, and intimidating young teens Phil could ever imagine.
    Phil did not enjoy his time at Darlington, and when his self-esteem disappeared, so did the academic progress he’d accomplished. He’d failed his father again, and he still wanted to redeem himself, but the prospect seemed like climbing Mount Everest. Still, Phil thought he could handle it. It would only be a few years. He’d figure things out and adjust. He always did.
    The new school year had barely begun when Phil received a surprise visit from his father. Meeting him at the admissions office, Mr. Foster greeted him with a handshake.
    “Good to see you, son,” he said, lightly patting his back. “Could we go for a walk?”
    “Sure,” Phil answered.
    They walked past the science building, the cafeteria, between the first sets of dorms. Leaves began to fall, and the air was crisp and cool. Phil’s father motioned to a picnic table, and the two sat down.
    “Son, your mother is the reason I came here today. There is something I have to tell you,” he began.
    “Is she here too? Can I see her?” Phil was excited. This could actually be a good surprise. His father said nothing.
    “Are we going on a trip, like a vacation? When can I—” Phil continued.
    “No, son, she isn’t here and we aren’t going anywhere. I came here to tell you—” his father stalled. “Phillip, your mother died this week.”
    Phil was quiet for a moment, staring blankly while digesting what he had heard. “She died? No, wait, she wasn’t even sick,” he said. “She didn’t die, you would have sent for me if something was wrong, she would have needed me.” Saying the words, Phil realized how silly he sounded. His mother wouldn’t have needed him. She hadn’t needed him for the last eight years.
    “No, son, she wasn’t sick. She had a heart attack. It was sudden and final. She didn’t suffer.”
    “When?”
    “Late last Sunday.”
    “But today is Friday. Why—”
    “I had my hands