Converted, Part 4

    This story contains adult language and themes. If such language and themes
offend you, please do not read further. Copyright 1997 by SSTORYMAN. All
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it.

    CONVERTED

    4. Conclusion: Five Vignettes.

    A. Dianne.

    "Dawn, I had a great time. Thanks so much for picking me up and for taking
me to the meeting at church. I enjoyed it."

    Dawn smiled. "I'm glad you came, Dianne. I'm glad you had a good time."

    "It's a new experience for me," Dianne said. "Hanging out with people who
are interested in spiritual things, but who don't judge me just because I
smoke. That's a lot different from my church" She grinned. "I am a smoker,"
she went on. "I'd fit in well with your friends. I'd like to come back next
week, if that's okay."

    "That'd be great," Dawn nodded. "We'd love to add you to the group."

    "Going out for coffee - and cigarettes - afterwards with your friends was
fun!" Dianne continued. "If you don't mind, I'll try coming to the church's
services on Sunday morning, too."

    "That'd be great."

    "Let me suggest something," Dianne said. "I've only been living with Bette
for several months. Our house is pretty big. I know you're moving out of Jim's
apartment pretty soon. We're looking for another roommate to help share the
rent. Would you be interested?"

    Dawn thought for a minute. "Bette smokes, too. Right?"

    "That's right," Dianne confirmed.

    Dawn was intrigued. She and Dianne were quickly becoming friends. And
living with two other smokers would certainly make things simpler in light of
Dawn's own growing addiction. She hadn't thought about where she'd go after
Jim's parents repossessed his stuff. But on her salary she couldn't afford the
apartment much longer. She knew she could never move in with a non-smoker. Not
now. "Yes," she finally said. "I'd be very interested."

    Dianne seemed genuinely pleased. "Great," she said. "Look, if you have a
few minutes, why don't you come in now, meet Bette, and look around? It's only
ten thirty. Maybe you'd have time for another cup of coffee with us." She
grinned. "And a cigarette or two."

    "Gosh, that sounds wonderful." She dropped her pack of Marlboro Light
100's and lighter into her purse as she opened the car door. She followed
Dianne into the house. It was old, but well maintained. Dawn liked it
immediately.

    If it works out, it would be great, she decided. Anyway, even if it
doesn't, there's always time for coffee and another cigarette or two with
friends, she told herself with a smile.

    B. Joe.

    "Hello?" the voice asked. "Is this Dawn Brown?"

    "Yes, it is. Who's this?

    "This is Joe. Joe Robinson. From church."

    "Oh, hi, Joe," Dawn replied. "What's up?"

    "I'm sorry to call you at home like this."

    "No problem. What can I do for you?"

    There was a pause on the line. "I wondered if you'd like to catch dinner
and a movie sometime." Another pause. "You and me, I mean."

    Dawn gasped. Oh my God. Joe's asking me out. An honest to goodness date!
Instinctively she reached for her cigarettes. These days she always kept a
pack near the phone. She now always smoked while she talked to her friends.

    "Oh, Joe, I don't know," Dawn stuttered, pausing long enough to light a
cigarette. "I like you, but maybe it's too soon for me ...."

    Joe's voice was compassionate. "I understand. I thought about that. I
almost didn't make this call, because I worried about it being too soon. But
you're a remarkable person, Dawn. I've enjoyed getting to know you over the
last few weeks. It's like you've been a part of our group forever. Even though
it's only been a month now."

    "I do love the group, Joe," Dawn answered. She took a hurried drag on her
cigarette. "But it's only been a couple months since ...."

    "Since Jim died. I know."

    "I haven't thought about going out with anyone. Honest. I like you, Joe.
I'm just not sure I'm ready for this yet."

    "That's okay," Joe assured her. "I can wait. I'll be honest. I've never
asked out any girls from our fellowship group before. But you're different,
Dawn."

    Dawn's face turned red. "Thank you, Joe," she blushed. "Gosh, so many
things are changing. For example, I'm moving in with Dianne next week. You
know her? The tall, thin girl from my office who's been coming on Wednesday
nights? Dianne joined us for coffee after the meeting the last two weeks. I'm
moving in with her. I've got new living arrangements, new friends, ... and a
new habit. I've gotten pretty attached to smoking over the last few weeks. I
assume that doesn't bother you?"

    Joe laughed. "How could it, since I smoke, too? No, it doesn't bother me,
Dawn. In fact, I probably wouldn't have asked you out if you didn't."

    "Oh, really?" Dawn said. She took a long drag and inhaled, carefully
directing the "whooshing" sound of her inhale into the receiver. She was
fishing for his response. "And why is that, Joe? Are you saying that you
prefer girls who smoke?" Her tone of voice was playful, almost coy, as she
deliberately exhaled into the phone.

    Joe paused. When he finally continued, he sounded slightly embarrassed.
"It's not that I'm encouraging you or anyone else to smoke. Not exactly. I
believe it's a personal decision whether or not you smoke. But I'd never date
a non-smoker. Because I smoke. After all, a girl who smokes herself is less
likely to be annoyed by my smoking. Am I right?"

    "Yes, you're right, Joe," she replied. "But let me understand something.
The fact that I'm a smoker now is definitely a factor in my favor. You're glad
that I'm smoking. Is that true?"

    "Yes," he said hesitantly. "It is definitely true. I admit it. I was
attracted to you as soon as I met you. Remember that first Wednesday night you
joined us for coffee after the meeting? I liked you right away. But I never
thought about the possibility of anything other than friendship until you
started smoking. I almost fell out of my chair the first time I saw you with a
cigarette. That definitely got me thinking about you in a different way." He
stopped. "Only because I know I could never have a serious relationship with
any girl unless she smokes," he added quickly. "I guess I have Kitty to thank
for that change, don't I?"

    Dawn sighed. Maybe Joe was attracted by her smoking. If so, however, he
certainly wasn't going to admit it directly.

    "You're right, Joe. Kitty is the one you should thank. You're right. I
smoke enough now that I'd never be bothered by you smoking. And the reverse is
also true. I'm sure my smoking wouldn't bother you, either. I'll tell you
what. I'll think about it. Seriously. After Jim died, I thought I wouldn't
date again for a long, long time. But you're so sweet. Give me a day or two to
think. I'll call you back. Okay?"

    "I'll give you all the time you need, Dawn. You're worth waiting for."

    C. Cathy.

    Cathy's prior appointment walked by Dawn to the elevator and pushed the
button. Dawn turned her head. Cathy stood at the door to her office.

    "Dawn, it's good to see you. I'm sorry we couldn't fit an appointment in
last week. It's hard to believe it's been two weeks" They walked into her
office.

    They engaged in small talk for a few moments. Without prompting, Dawn sat
down and began a brief summary of events during the last two weeks, including
the possibility of her moving in with Dianne. Instead of sitting, Cathy stood
the entire time, pacing every now and then across the room. Finally, she
struck a pose at her desk. "There's something else, isn't there, Dawn?" she
asked. "You decided to start smoking, didn't you?"

    Despite an attempt to sound clinical and impartial, she guessed Cathy was
unhappy about this. Dawn gulped. "Yes, I did start smoking again. But how
could you tell?"

    Cathy smiled. There was a hint of self-righteousness in her voice. "I
smelled smoke on your clothes, Dawn, as soon as you walked in the room. You
didn't think you could hide it from me, did you? The fact that you didn't tell
me suggests you feel guilty. Am I right?"

    Dawn sighed. She hadn't smoked while driving to her appointment today,
purposely hoping to minimize the smell on her clothes. She hadn't wanted Cathy
to ask her about it. She didn't want to deal with smoking today. But it hadn't
occurred to her that the lingering smell on her clothes and hair would be so
obvious. As she thought about it, however, she realized she was smoking a pack
a day. Yeah, the smell probably was obvious.

    She decided to take the offensive. "Actually, Cathy, I did want to hide
it. I admit that. But not because I feel guilty. It's because I decided
something else." She took a deep breath. "I don't think we need to meet
together anymore. I think I'm done with counseling."

    "Oh?" Cathy replied.

    "Yeah," Dawn answered. "Since we met last, I've made a lot of progress. I
feel much better about everything. Gosh, so much has happened. As I mentioned,
I've made arrangements to move in with new friends, a girl from work and her
roommate. I had to because Jim's parents are taking his stuff, and I can't
afford the apartment on my salary. I've been going to the fellowship group and
I've made lots of new friends there. I even got asked out by a guy from the
group. And I'm going to go out with him. He's very sweet."

    Cathy frowned. "It sounds like you have made progress. That's great. But
be careful, Dawn. I'm sure this guy is sweet. But how well do you know him?
For example, what will happen when he finds out that you're a smoker now?"

    "Joe already knows I smoke," she snapped. She was getting angry. "He
smokes, too. So do my new roommates, Dianne and Bette. As a matter of fact,
everyone I spend time with now smokes." She smiled. "I suppose that's another
reason why I smell so much like it. Not only me, but everyone I hang out with
smokes. What do you think of that?"

    Cathy backed off. "I didn't mean to sound judgmental, Dawn, it's just that
...."

    "Like hell you didn't!" Dawn exploded. "You're just like all the rest. Oh,
you want to sound like you're impartial. 'Make your own decisions, Dawn, and
I'll support them, whatever they are.' Isn't that what you said? What a bunch
of crap! Cathy, let me tell you something. I'm a smoker now. That means I
smoke. Period. And damn it, I'm not going to apologize! God, you healthcare
professionals are all alike! You want your patients to do well, but then you
tell us what 'well" means and what it has to look like."

    Cathy interrupted. "Dawn, you're completely misunderstanding my
intentions. I just wanted to tell you that ...."

    "That I've made a mistake. I know, I know. But look, I don't care. I'm
living my own life now. You're going to tell me again that it's bad for me.
But what are you going to do, Cathy, when I tell you that I smoke, that
everyone I care about smokes, and that I'm going to keep smoking and keep on
hanging out with them? What are you going to write down on your little note
pad when I tell you that? Huh?"

    Cathy smiled. "I'm going to tell you that I smoke, too," she said calmly.
"That's all I was trying to say. And I was going to suggest that we hold our
appointment today in the cafe across the street where we can both smoke. If
you want to, that is."

    Dawn was dumbfounded. "You smoke?" she blurted out.

    "Yes," Cathy admitted. She opened her desk drawer and held up a green pack
of Benson & Hedges Menthol Light 100's. "It's my one great vice," she smiled
as she dropped her cigarettes into her purse and flung it over her shoulder.
"Believe me, I understand very well why you enjoy smoking, Dawn. I do, too."

    "But I thought ...."

    "That the last time we met I seemed disapproving? Of course. I have to
disapprove, from a purely professional point of view. I'd lose my job if I
didn't. Especially because you were on the fence. And I told you the truth.
Smoking _is_ bad for you, and it is damn hard to quit once you start." She
smiled. "Believe me. I know! But once you decided that you're going to smoke
anyway, and that you're going to keep on smoking, there's no reason for me not
to disclose that I smoke, too. And no reason that from now on we shouldn't
meet in an environment like the cafe across the street which permits smoking.
So let's go."

    "Wow," Dawn gasped. She followed Cathy to the door of the office and into
the elevator. Cathy pushed the button for the ground floor. "I can't believe
it," Dawn muttered "This is so weird! I had you pegged all wrong."

    The elevator door opened and the two girls walked through the lobby of the
building. When she reached the front door, Cathy placed a cigarette between
her lips. The sight of her counselor about to light up seemed incongruous.

    Cathy smiled as she opened the door and walked outside, recognizing the
apparent contradiction. "The truth is, Dawn, I'm dying for a cigarette right
now! My last appointment just about wore me out. It was so tense. When I was
done, I wanted to sneak out for a quick smoke. Even a few quick drags would
have helped. But you arrived early, and I was afraid I was stuck."

    She paused to light up in the cool autumn air. Cathy had the look of a
veteran smoker as she shielded her lighter from the breeze with cupped hands.
She puffed long and hard as the cigarette came to life.

    "Stuck, that is, until I smelled smoke on your clothes," she went on, the
lit cigarette dangling from her lips. "By the way," Cathy smiled. "The smell
of smoke on your clothes is quite obvious. Anyway, I decided then and there
that I'd ask if you wanted to come across the street for our session. So I
could smoke. So _we_ could both smoke." She took another big drag. As she
inhaled, she removed the cigarette from her lips. "God, that's better," she
sighed. "But I'm sure you understand." A trail of smoke escaped from her mouth
and nose. Because of the coolness of the air, the stream appeared endless in
duration.

    "I do understand," Dawn admitted, quickly getting her own cigarettes from
her purse. "I certainly do."

    She joined Cathy by quickly lighting a cigarette of her own. She'd
deprived herself on the drive to Cathy's office, and so the first few drags
were particularly rewarding to Dawn.

    They each smoked silently in front of the building for several minutes,
finally crossing the street to begin the actual counseling session in the
cafe.

    "I take it you're not disappointed in me?" asked Dawn, while Cathy took a
final drag and dropped her cigarette butt to the ground in front of the cafe
door.

    "The only thing I'm disappointed in is that you don't have any better
sense than I do," Cathy said with a wink. "Man, that really hit the spot!
C'mon, let's go get some coffee."

    And smoke some cigarettes, thought Dawn. At least three or four.

    D. Kitty.

    "You've come a long way, baby," Kitty teased. Her eyes danced as she
watched Dawn frantically light up a cigarette as soon as they exited the movie
theater together.

    But you still aren't as far gone as I am." With that, Kitty fired up a
Marlboro 100. "I'd never make it smoking those Marlboro Lights you smoke."

    Lights or no lights, Dawn sighed with relief. The nicotine from her
cigarette was now kicking in. "Why do they make some movies so long?" she
exclaimed as they headed for the car.

    "To test you," Kitty replied with a giggle, exhaling smoke into the night
air. "To encourage you to rent videos instead of going to the theater," she
went on. "Because when you watch movies at home, you can smoke. I rarely go
out to a movie anymore. I hate to admit it, but it's true. I usually wait 'til
a movie comes out on video so I can watch it in the comfort of my own home."
She giggled again. "Smoking."

    They got into Dawn's car. Kitty looked around. The ashtray was pulled out
from the dash. It overflowed with cigarette butts. Several empty Marlboro
Light 100 wrappers were scattered on the floor of the car. Ashes which had not
quite flicked out the window, or which had missed the overflowing ashtray,
were sprinkled throughout the car's interior. The upholstery reeked of stale
tobacco smoke. Kitty grinned.

    "My God, Dawn. I guess I didn't notice it before. This car is really a
mess! Further evidence that you've come a long way, baby."

    Dawn turned the key and looked at her friend as the engine roared. Her
cigarette hung from her lips as she gripped the steering wheel. As if
providing further evidence of Kitty's charge, ashes from Dawn's dangling
cigarette fall onto her lap, only to be brushed absent-mindedly onto the
floor.

    "I know," Dawn sighed. "I've got to clean it up. I've just had so many
things on my mind lately. Mostly moving, but also this thing with Joe."

    Kitty smiled. "I will say this, however. Your car isn't messy compared to
Joe's. Have you ever seen his car? Or his apartment, for that matter?"

    Dawn pulled out into traffic. She returned her cigarette to her mouth as
she quickly turned the steering wheel and maneuvered the car into the proper
lane. "No. Why? Is he messy, too?"

    "He's a slob," Kitty giggled. "The man has no sense of shame when it comes
to mess."

    Dawn assumed a thoughtful pose. Settled into the traffic pattern, she took
a longer, more leisurely drag on her cigarette. She inhaled deeply, lifting
her shoulders and expanding her chest to make room for the smoke.

    "Jim used to make me keep everything completely clean," she said simply.
She paused to exhale, and then smiled. "Honestly, I hated that." She looked at
her car's interior. It was a mess. "But it sounds like Joe and I would get
along just fine," she grinned.

    Kitty pulled on her cigarette. As always, the smoke immediately found its
way deep into her lungs. "You like Joe, don't you?"

    "Yes, I do," Dawn admitted. "But I'm afraid."

    From deep inside, Kitty's nostrils and lips began releasing little
trickles of the previously inhaled smoke. "Afraid of being hurt again?" she
asked.

    "I guess. I don't know. I was crazy in love with Jim. I'm not sure those
feelings will ever completely go away. It's not fair to Joe to have to compete
with them."

    Kitty smiled. "He's not worried about it, Dawn. Joe likes you. I can tell.
He's smitten. I've never seen him respond to a girl like this. I've known Joe
for three years. Pretty girls from this fellowship have been chasing him since
the beginning. He's always remained aloof. He never got involved with anyone.
He never even suggested he wanted to. Until now, that is. You're not just a
passing fling, Dawn. Joe's not that kind of guy. I think he's waiting for the
perfect girl." She paused for another puff. "And the good news is, you're it!
Or so he thinks! He's willing to be patient, willing to wait."

    Dawn frowned. "I like him, Kitty. I do. But I don't want to just do the
'rebound' thing. You know, bounce from Jim Black to Joe Robinson, just because
I'm lonely and I need a man. That sounds awful. I need to know I love Joe. I'm
not sure I do yet."

    "Then relax," Kitty suggested, lighting up a second consecutive cigarette.
"Spend time with him, get to know him, and let nature take its course. If the
feelings come, great. If they don't, then that's fine, too." She paused to
exhale a stream of smoke toward the driver's seat. "Don't you agree that's
logical?"

    In the dim light, Kitty's dark complexion and hair made her barely
visible. But the smoke escaping from her lips brightly glistened in the
reflected light cast by oncoming cars. The entire scene, with contrasts of
darkness and light, imparted an ethereal, other worldly veracity to Kitty's
words.

    "I guess it is logical," Dawn sighed. She turned toward her comrade and
smiled. "Kitty, I don't know what I'd do without you. You've become my best
friend. I hope you know how much you mean to me. I'm serious. I'm a different
person from the confused girl that wandered into the church basement that
night only a few weeks ago."

    Kitty smiled and reached down to the floor of the car. She held up a
crumpled pack of Marlboro Light 100's. "Well, you're messier now, that's for
sure," she teased. She watched Dawn light up a second cigarette of her own.
"And you know what?" she added with a wicked laugh. "You smoke too damn much!"

    "Well, if that isn't the pot calling the kettle black, I don't know what
is!" Dawn teased back. But she didn't mind Kitty's jibe. She had to admit that
she sure did love to smoke! Maybe she loved it too much; but somehow Dawn
doubted that was possible.

    E. The Pastor.

    Dawn walked down the aisle of the church toward the front door. Dianne was
a few steps in front of her. After the Sunday morning service, the minister
always stood in the church doorway, shaking hands with his parishioners as
they left. Kitty and her husband Bob were already in line in front of Dianne
and Dawn. She looked around. Joe, Sarah and Cindy were two rows behind her,
also waiting for the crowd to disperse onto the church's front lawn.

    Kitty and Bob had invited Joe and Dawn to join them for lunch after
church. She smiled. Dawn knew what Kitty was doing. The matchmaking was not
subtle. But she didn't mind. And she knew Joe didn't. She was interested in
spending time with Joe. She liked him. Maybe Kitty was right. Maybe there was
more in store for her ... and Joe.

    Pastor Anderson smiled as she arrived at the church door. "Dawn, so nice
to see you. How are you doing these days?"

    "Fine, Pastor," she beamed. "I'm doing really well."

    Standing outside the church, she saw Kitty and Bob smile while they
listened. Dianne also stood to one side, smiling. It was her second Sunday
morning at Saint Stephen's.

    "Dawn, it's been awhile since Jim's death," the pastor said. He had gray
hair and great sincerity in his voice. "You look like you're making the
transition very well indeed."

    "Yes, Pastor, I am," she answered. "I still miss Jim, but the Wednesday
night fellowship group has made a big difference. I don't know if you
remember, but one Sunday shortly after Jim died you said people should
consider joining a church fellowship group for support. That was a big reason
why I joined the Twenty-Something Fellowship. So thank you."

    Pastor Anderson smiled. "That's my job, Dawn. To encourage people to
become more involved in the life of the church." He clasped her hand firmly.
"I see you've even started bringing your friends to church here." He winked,
glancing at Dianne who stood outside the door. "It looks like we've finally
converted you, Dawn. Welcome aboard!"

    She knew she mustn't talk any longer, or the people in line behind her
would get restless. She merely nodded her assent and walked into the cool
morning air. Anyway, she was ready for what was to follow. She quickly opened
her purse and put a cigarette between her eager lips.

    Dawn Brown was now a smoker, and she didn't care if everyone in the church
knew. Stepping a few more steps outside, she clicked her lighter. Kitty was
smoking, too. So was Dianne. Dawn smiled. Kitty always smokes when she leaves
the building, she thought to herself. And Joe and the others will join them in
a moment.

    Dawn sucked smoke deep into her lungs. She sighed. It felt so good. Yes,
the pastor was absolutely right in more ways than one. She'd been converted!

    THE END

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