I was having
a test first period in English. Chaucer.
What I didn’t know about Chaucer. I had
fallen asleep the night before trying to cram it all in. I should have studied along and along but
what the heck, there was too much going on to study all the time. I had my books in my left hand walking to
class and my study sheet in my right hand trying to pack it in for the next
hour. If I crammed now it would come out
in a steady stream during the test. That
was my theory at least.
Who was the
wife of Bath? My only remembrance is the
gap between those two front teeth being a sign of sexual promiscuity. That’s
sex and lots of it like I think of when I see that cute thing walking past.
What a nice swing on that back porch as the eyes wander over the upper
curves. She certainly filled out since
last year. Man, would I like to take her
home. Whoa, get back to the test
subject. She is really fine.
And so it
went as I walked past all the cuties standing chatting on the breezeway, my
mind flitting from the test subject and the living curves all around me. I
simply could not keep my mind on the work I had to do to pass this test.
“Rickey?”
I was
wakened from my innocent lusting by JR next to me.
“Huh? Oh.
Hey JR. Did you want something?” I shoved my study sheet in my English book.
“Uh, yeah. Um, could I borrow the key to your house?” JR
had an odd smile on his face as he asked.
“My key?
What for?” Not just an odd smile but an odd request as well.
“Well, um, I
was going to cut today with some football buddies. We kind of need a place to gather.”
“Why my
place?” I wasn’t too keen on this request.
“Well, hell,
Rickey. Your place is the most secluded one around. We thought we’d get together for some
practice. You know, football stuff.”
It sounded
kind of strange to me.
“Why don’t
you do that here? You know, where the football field is.”
“Uh,
um. This is more an indoor sport.” He
said this with a nervous chuckle.
“Sounds
fishy to me. And I still don’t
understand why you want to do that at my house.
What’s wrong with your house or one of the other players’ houses?”
“Oh come on,
Rickey. Your parents both work. There’s nobody home. At our houses at least one parent would be
home. We kind of need some privacy for
these particular plays.”
I looked at
him and wondered what the heck football plays need privacy.
“I don’t
understand, JR. What the heck is private
about football? And why wouldn’t you
want to be near the field to test your plays?
It doesn’t make sense to me.”
A frown
began to cross his brow.
“Do you play
football?”
“You know I
don’t.”
“So what the
hell do you know about it? All I’m asking is to use your house for the
afternoon.”
“So you want
to meet at my house without me there? How about me getting in on this meeting?”
I was beginning to think I might be missing out on some fun.
“I would say
yeah if you played on the team. But me and the guys have been planning this for
some time. We just want to borrow it for the afternoon.”
The bell
rang. All those cute curvy bottoms were sashaying past. My eye was caught. My
mind drifted to undressing those nubile bodies so tempting to this weak weak
flesh. JR’s request became less important as my feet wanted to follow what my
eyes had latched onto.
“Rickey! It’s
important!”
“Huh? What’s
that?” I muttered reaching my hand as if to touch that soft and firm bottom
passing by. His arguments had been forgotten.
My mind was otherwise occupied.
“Your key!
You know. The key to your house. Can we borrow it?” He was becoming frantic
with his request.
He turned me
to face him.
“Listen up.
You want us to win the game this week don’t you?” He was trying to interest me
in a sacrifice for the team and for the school. “Come on! For the sake of the
game. This meeting is important for our
team spirit.”
In actuality
I didn’t give a fig for the team’s spirit. I just wanted to run to that girl in
the tight sweater and ask her out.
“Rickey!
Listen.”
“Huh? I don’t
have a key, JR. You know my house is never locked. The milkman has to be able
to get in to put our milk in the fridge. Leeme alone. Can’t you see I want that
sweet thing over there?”
“Oh, yeah.
Now I know why you’re so distracted. That’s right Tiger,” he said with a laugh.
“Go get ‘er. She wants you. I can tell.”
And with
that he was gone. I turned where he had been only to see empty space. I noticed
two or three of the football players running toward the cars. Wish I knew what
the heck that was all about, I thought. As that thought dwindled I saw sunlight
bounce off some thick brunette tresses jouncing atop shoulders sporting yarn
which was stretched to the max across her…
I gotta quit these thoughts and study for this test.
That was
when I noticed the breezeway was devoid of students. My last vision had slipped through the doors
into the hallway.
Panic ensued. The English test! I was going to be late. I
ran barely making the class. Our English teacher was at the door tapping her
foot at me.
“Come on!
You’re late!” Her face was stern but her eyes twinkled. I was one of her
favorite students. It was a good feeling. I passed her and to my seat I
trotted. I took out my study sheet for one last glimpse.
“All papers
away,” said our teacher. “There are only
two questions. I hope you studied your material thoroughly. This test is
one-third of your semester grade don’t forget.”
Holy crap! I
didn‘t know that. The fear factor popped up. All thoughts of sexy seniors and
gap-toothed women fled my cranium. JR and friends? That little scene was
forgotten in the panic of the moment. I read the first question. Not a clue so
I skipped it. Second question. I must have studied the wrong stuff. My heart
began to pound in a totally different way from the way it did with sight of
sweet shapely female forms newly acquired by our girl students. And, yet, my
mind drifted into the arms of the girl sitting two rows over.
“Stop it!” I
shouted in my head. With that jolt of reality I studied the questions once
more. I placed my pencil on the third line from the top of my ruled paper. The
scratching of carbon from my pencil commenced into a complete bull session in
hopes that I might capture a wisp of what I was supposed to have read for this
test. It was a slim chance, however.
The Classics Illustrated version wasn’t going to be enough to help with this.
MacBeth. It was a total curveball. My
only hope was to remember the class sessions we covered this. I wrote until my hand hurt and the bell rang.
Filing past
her desk I lay my paper on the green blotter.
“How’d you
do, Rickey? You were certainly writing a lot over there,” she said looking at
me with those bright eyes full of mischief.
I always
loved her dark hair sprinkled with silver and those bright shining eyes hiding
intelligence far beyond my imagination.
Intelligence
is such a turn on, I thought to myself. I smiled showing my teeth, hoping my
eyes sparkled with intelligence.
“Another
paper littered with bull? Or did you understand this one?’ she was taunting me.
“I’ve always
liked that particular play by the bard,” I said with my nose at a slight upward
tilt. “It’s a really dark one and a bit depressing. What with the wife goading him into brandishing
a knife with gouts of blood, how could it not be dark?”
“Ah, I see,”
she said. “Another pen brandished with gouts of bull. Very good, Rickey. Let’s
hope you have enough truth between the cow pats.” She chuckled and turned her attention to the
next student.
Wow, I
thought. If she were only a few years younger or I a few years older what a
pair we would make. At that moment the
rich brown tresses seen prior to class passed by and I was tripping along
behind her.
The bell
rang after our third class. I trudged over to the cafeteria for another
nutritious meal along with everyone else. The line moved quickly. I looked for
JR but he was missing along with the other players I had seen hot footing it
the parking area. Odd. As I look around to find a seat I was vaguely
aware two of the prettiest senior girls were not anywhere to be seen. It was
always nice to gaze on them. Talk about female development. Hubba hubba. I shrugged it off as I caught sight of my
English teacher. I smiled, waved and dreamed of finding a cottage with her.
“Rickey!” came
a shout from the other side of the room. I waved turning in that direction. I
placed my tray next to RB who was chatting up his girlfriend.
“You guys
going to the dance? Like I don’t already
know,” I said with a smile.
“Of course.
How about you?” He scooped potatoes into his spoon and held it as if he were going
to catapult it in an arc across the room.
“I don’t
know if BR can make it this weekend,” I said referring to the girl I was dating.
She was a sophomore at a college in the upstate. “I need to call her to find
out. If she can’t I guess I’ll go stag.”
RB let fly
his glob of potato and turned his head down to his plate.
There was a
soft plash two tables over.
“Alright who
did that?”
I turned to
see who his target had been. Turning around with a chuckle I winked and said, “Good
shot.” It was one of the class bullies.
He was too dim to figure the trajectory and a very deserving recipient. Rb and
I laughed.
The rest of
the day I went to class. In between
walking to the next one I casually checked out the students but JR and his
buddies were nowhere to be seen. Double
strange were the two missing senior sweeties.
I gave them no more thought as my body turned to walk in the steps of
the beauty with the bouncing brunette curls. It was just another day in High
School.
With the final
bell I followed everyone else to the buses waiting in a semi-circle beyond the
front doors. Mine was three down and I
moseyed to it. The engine was running as
I climbed aboard.
“Where’s ID?”
I asked the substitute driver.
“Dang if I
know,” he said. “Got a call early this morning about taking his route. Some secret team meeting. Don’t know what it was about. New plays I reckon. It’s always nice to get a
check at the end of the month even if only a coupla bucks.”
“Weird,” I
said. “Wonder what it was all about?”
“Don’t have
a clue. Move on back. You’re blocking the stairs.”
Looking back
I saw a line of crabby kids backed up.
“Move it!”
the one in front yelled.
“OK. Ok. I’m
moving.”
I jumped
down from the bottom step and the door folded behind me. My stop consisted of
me walking to the end of the road to the last house on the right. It popped into my mind that JR was right about
one thing, my house was out of the way.
Inside I tossed my books on the table which was clean of clutter and
shining as if it had been scrubbed spic and span bright. It seemed a little odd but I gave it no
thought. I grabbed the milk out of the
fridge and poured a glass. The milkman
had done it again, two quarts of Grade A. Just what a growing boy needed. Starting to the TV room I grabbed a bag of
chips which was strange because a new bag of chips in the middle of the week
was not the norm in this house. I scratched
my head promptly forgetting it.
I clicked
the TV on. After it warmed up channel five was on. Nobody in this house watched channel five
much. I was beginning to feel like I was
in a Twilight Zone episode. I put my glass on the table beside my chair. The lamp wasn’t in its usual place. I changed the channel and American Bandstand
was just beginning. I settled in with a handful of chips.
My mother
came in through the back door.
“Hello,
anyone home?” She called from the kitchen.
“I’m back
here, mom.” Gene Pitney was guesting on the show and started his song when my
mother appeared at the door.
“Rickey!?”
Eyes glued
to the tube I said, “yes ma’am?”
“I just
wanted to thank you. That was so sweet.”
My brow
crinkled at the bridge of my nose. “Ma’am?”
“What you
did. It was so thoughtful. You must have known what a bad day I was having.”
‘What are
you talking about, mom?”
“Don’t act
so humble, Rickey. It was a really nice thing. Cleaning up. Making the beds.
Putting away the dishes. I’m as pleased as I can be. Such a wonderful gesture. Thank you so much.”
“Uh, you’re
welcome?” I mumbled.
Those
idiots! I thought.
“I’m glad
you’re pleased.”
She came
over and patted me on the head.
“Pleased? I’m
tickled pink.” She went back to the kitchen to start dinner. She was singing. I
hadn’t heard her sing in a while.
As the pots
and pans began to sound out in the kitchen I got up to look in the bed room.
The bed was made. The end tables were spotless. The floor even looked as if it
had been vacuumed.
The next
morning JR approached me.
“Hey buddy I
want to thank you for letting us use your place.”
“You took
girls over, didn’t you?”
“Why would
you say that?” He looked at me puzzled.
“The place
was too clean. What did you do?’
‘Uh, Rickey
we did what you only dream about. We took two of the prettiest seniors over to
your place and played games in your beds. We were rowdy and rough until the
milkman came in the door. He caught the
prettiest girl in the kitchen stark naked and dropped a quart of milk on the
floor. Funny as hell. He flew out the
door apologizing. We had to clean up. Glass
and milk was all over the place. Once we were through the girls felt guilty and
cleaned everything. What a day. Thanks
again.”
“You kook!”
I yelled after him. “Don’t ever make up the beds again. It’s a dead giveaway. I
almost choked when my mother thanked me for doing the house work. Now she
expects it and I’ll have to continue what you started.”
JR just
hooted a laugh, then walked to class.
I turned to
go to my class. The bouncy brunette was wearing a severely tight sweater. I
trailed behind her on a cloud. One day,
I thought. One day.
Thank you Ricky. Your stories are transportive. You always had a better mind than any of the rest of us did, and now those of us who were lucky enough to share your childhood with you benefit again by having those wonderful times recalled so gracefully, and with such good humor and detail. Was the English teacher the divine Mrs. S....wick?
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