Nobody Needs to Know: A Memoir by Pidgeon Pagonis

Author:Pidgeon Pagonis [Pagonis, Pidgeon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: TOPPLE Books/Little A
Published: 2023-08-14T16:00:00+00:00

Growing up, the phrase I remember hearing the most in my house was: Shhhh, Oprah’s on! This was followed by: Did you hear about Oprah and Stedman? Or: Do you think she’s dating Gayle? Or: Did you see how much weight Oprah gained? Which was, of course, always followed by: Oh my God, did you see how much weight Oprah lost? You see, Oprah was almost sacred in our home. There was not a single person in my entire family who didn’t love Oprah. In fact, Oprah was like another member of our family. We saw her more often than most of our distant relatives, who were scattered around the country. Besides the Chicago Bulls, nothing made us prouder of our city than Oprah. And even though she recorded her show in the city, just a few miles from where we lived, I never knew anybody who’d been to a taping.

The night before Lynnell was scheduled to be on Oprah, I couldn’t sleep at all. I stared at the ceiling, my body jittery with excitement, like a little kid waiting for Santa on Christmas Eve.

It was another milestone: I was the first person in my family to go to college, and now, almost more importantly, I was about to become the first person to be in Oprah’s audience.

I woke up flushed. Nerves and excitement buzzed through my body. My mind was racing with questions for the Queen of Chicago: What should I wear? Will I be seated toward the front, where my family can see me? Will I ask a question? What should I ask? Will I get to meet Oprah?

I jumped out of bed, hopped into the shower, and let the warm water cascade over my body, hoping that the steam and heat would heal my anxious heart and tired bones. I wrung my hair with a towel before whipping it up into a messy bun, then picked out my best pair of Abercrombie jeans and my favorite sky-blue sweater. I forced myself to go to class, but how did they expect me to focus on English lit when today belonged to Oprah? I decided I would sit in their classroom, fine, but my mind and my spirit would be elsewhere, blocks away, in a little place called Harpo Studios.

At 9:15 a.m., while daydreaming about riding ponies with Oprah, I got a text from Lynell: Running early. Be outside at 9:45! Don’t be late!!

I closed my notebook and quietly zipped up my backpack, sneaking out of my class without any type of explanation. When I stepped out into the hallway, it was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. No one was around. I pushed the heavy glass door open to exit the building, and the students I’d imagined would be packed into the quad, looking on in awe and gawking at me as I casually stepped into a sleek limousine, courtesy of Harpo Studios, after my class ended, were nowhere to be found. Besides two squirrels who were chasing each other, not a single soul witnessed my royal pickup.

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