An ode to Sheila (David)

When I first met Sheila I was a freshman in college and she was a senior in High School. I had heard about her before I met her but the first time I saw her was when she was on stage. She was playing Millie in William Inge’s Picnic. As then, as now she was, and is a burning light on stage and off. I felt we were destined to be great lovers as I went home to my dorm room saying over and over “Sheila O’ mmmmmalley”, with the emphasis on the “O’ and the long drawn out “M’. I said it so many times my roommate finally told me to shut up and go to bed. You see, as an incoming freshmen I had landed a lead role in the first play that season in a Eugene O’Neill evening of one-acts. I played this …oh; wait, sorry, this is about Sheila. So being the two “new stars” at the URI theater scene I felt we should be an item, and like I said she was a beautiful light to behold. Finally I had my chance at a roller-skating, cast party for Picnic. My obstacle was her epic crush on one of the actors in Picnic who remains our friend to this day. In fact two of the cast members are still in our lives 20 years later, along with three other URI theater graduates. I digress. Years later Sheila and I laughed and argued about how that roller skating party went but, being the insanely obsessive journal writer that she is, she had proof as to her recollection of the night and my recounting of it was destroyed. I felt, as I held her hand and tried to make her laugh by staging hilarious stage falls on my skates while acting supremely cool, basically doing my best John Ritter imitation pre John Ritter, that she barely even glanced at me keeping her attention wholly and completely on our friend Brett who was no friend of mine at the time. But when I saw her journal I could see my pratfalls did not go unnoticed and were indeed appreciated.

My next memory of Sheila that is seared into me was when I went to see her in Anne of Green Gables the Musical. It was the following season and I had just finished doing this play called…whoops, there I go again, sorry. I had joined a fraternity and had imbibed a few beers before going to the theater that night to see the play. I sat pretty close to front row center and found myself next to a young woman named Stacey P.. She was a trip. She had big blonde hair, big boobs, and big red lips. She had been in a play with me or may have even been rehearsing one with me at the time, I can’t recall. But she wasn’t your average theater major geek, in fact she wasn’t a theater major at all, and I was desperate to show her nor was I. I told her about the frat party that was going on that I left and maybe we could head over there later, etc. The lights went down and within about ten minutes of the curtain Sheila comes on stage as Anne in a wagon on her way to her new home. She’s singing this song and at one point stands up and slams out this verse with a piercing quality that only Sheila has. It was as if in that one moment she captured what it means to be young and full of light and love and hope and dreams, and it shot through me like a lightning bolt. I was weeping. Literally. Tears and snot were running down my face and I had no recourse but to ask Stacey for a Kleenex. Being only 18 or 19 years old, this was mortifying. I was exposed as the theater major geek I still am to this day.

I’ll include one more memory of Sheila, sparing you the one where we pulled a rusty nail out of the wall one night to make a blood pact that was broken the very next morning by me. This one took place at a party somewhere; they all blend together 20 years later. At this party was some older guy from the town. He looks like an old salty fisherman in my memory, grizzled and wise. He was drunk and content to be among these young college students, watching us begin our awkward love affair with the bottle that he had long ago mastered. At one point, feeling that he and I could connect since I considered myself a wise old soul trapped in the body of a 19 year old, I sat down to talk to him. He was watching Sheila intently. At the time Sheila was somewhat of an awkward young lady and there were much flashier, dare I say even sexier (sorry Sheila) young women at this party. You would expect a lecherous old sea dog to fawn over one of them. But mid way through the conversation we were having, about God knows what, he nudged me and said, indicating Sheila, “That one…she’s something, she’s special, she’s got a strong light about her.” He was completely captivated. I nodded sagely and agreed. I had seen it. I still see it. The difference now is I get what he meant.

There’s my ode to Sheila. There’s so much more but my youngest is home sick and I am being beckoned to bring them both their breakfast. Then I must join a free roll tournament online at PokerRoom.com. I must I tell you. Enjoy your day all!