October always
brought on the beginnings of fall. The
air turned cooler. The trees grew barer.
The grass began to tan over the green.
The birds’ voices grew more infrequent as the chill of the air touched
off migrations further south. The
neighborhoods grew smoky with burning leaves.
Men in sweaters raked the brown leaves into piles as they decided to bag
or burn. Caressing breezes lifted leaves
and smoke indiscriminately. Walking the
trail home I was lifted inwardly like the smoke in front of me. It was a glorious afternoon.
The screen
door slammed behind me. I dropped my
coat on the chair in the corner.
“Don’t slam
that door!” said my dad who was reading the newspaper under the lamplight. The interior of the house was a little on the
dark side. The walls were covered in
wallpaper that was tan with a paisley print in a darker brown. It sucked the light out of the air.
“Yes sir,” I
answered. That demand had followed me
all my life with no change in my behavior.
A slamming screen door was the epitome of the South to me. Long hot
summer days were never the same without the echo of a screen door slamming shut
by children running out into the heat and wonder of play. That door slam was more than disobedience it
was a rite of childhood even though my childhood was coming to a close.
“Rickey,
would you help me in the kitchen for a moment, please?”
My mother
was asking my help to draw me away from the front room. Dad was reading the paper and hated being
disturbed.
“Yes’m.” I
walked over to the stove where she was stirring stew in a pot. It was a couple of cans of Armour Star beef
stew. Dad had worked at the Armour’s
plant down town for years and we had gotten into the habit of eating their
canned stew on Wednesdays.
“You know
you shouldn’t slam that door like that.” She said it quietly. At the same time she handed me the potato
masher. “Can you mash those up for us?”
“I think I
can handle that.” Holding the top askew
on the pot I drained the water into the sink.
When only potatoes remained I added butter along with some Carnation
milk. The masher mushed the softened
potatoes and blended the milk and butter into a hot pile of creamed
potatoes. I dished up three portions. Peas were in a second pot which I slipped
over to the sink and drained the water.
The three dishes were almost complete after I dropped peas onto
them. Mom ladled the stew in the empty
space I had left on each plate.
“OK. Dinner is ready. Table or TV?”
My mother had begun to ask this question but the answer had become more
of the same.
“TV.”
After the
local and the national news mom gave me the sign. I collected the plates which I piled into the
sink.
“Wait!
Scrape those into the garbage. Don’t
want your dad to take the trap apart to unclog the pipes again.”
I’d been
guilty of that a few times.
“Oh yeah,
sorry.” The remains scraped off the
plates easily landing with a plop in the trashcan. The clatter of scraped dishes rang out as I
turned the tap. A steady stream flowed
for rinsing the soapy dishes.
“You’re
going to clean the dishes?” asked my mother in surprise.
“Yes
ma’am. I thought I’d help out.”
When I
finished I hung up the dish towel.
“I
finished,” I said. “I didn’t break one.”
“I
know. I never heard one hit the
floor. I want you to know I appreciate
your helping,” said my mother as I walked into the living room.
“Are we
still going to the fair this weekend?” I asked.
I thought I’d sneak this in casually and then spring my big question.
Dad looked
up and answered me, “Yes. We’ll register
for the car give away just like we did last year.” That was his big reason for going.
“Don’t you
want to go?” My mother was looking at me with a touch of a frown on her face.
“Yes
ma’am. I sure do. I always enjoy the fair.” I stood looking at them both. Dad looked at me. I could see he had a question for me.
“I was
wondering…”
“Yes?” dad
murmured.
“Well…”
“Go ahead
and ask,” said dad. His face began to
sport the glimmer of a smile.
“OK. I was wondering, uh, well, um, could I…”
Mom smiled
saying, “Just say it, Rickey.”
“Could I ask
someone to go with me?”
“RB? Sure.
He’s always over. It’s OK with me if his
parents don’t mind.”
“Uh, no not
RB. Um…uh…”
Now dad
looked at me. The smile slowly grew. He
knew. How did he know?
“It’s OK,
son. We’ve kind of known for a while you’ve wanted to ask a girl out. What’s her name?”
I looked at
him, then my mother. They both had grins
on their faces.
“Linda.” It
came out almost as a whisper.
“A pretty
name,” said dad. “Have you asked her?”
“I didn’t
want to until I knew it would be alright with you since she would be coming
with us.”
“Yes, of
course you can. Why don’t you go ahead
and call her to see if she wants to go.”
Dad’s smile was probably bigger than I had ever seen, but mine was
bigger.
Now all I
had to do was build up the courage to call her, a mountain of a problem for a
shy guy.
She was in
the same class with me and I had been talking to her any chance I could without
my buddies around. I would never hear
the end of it if they caught me talking to a girl. Even so, I was ready for the full-fledged
teasing I would undergo because she was a dream that made my heart flutter when
she came into view. Her brunette hair
encircled a face of such fair beauty that I tripped every time I saw her. My mouth went dry and I couldn’t speak, much
less think, when she was near so gathering all my courage to call her was the
greatest effort I had ever undertaken to this point in my life.
I picked up
the phone and stuck my finger in the dial.
I couldn’t breathe. I leaned over
my knees so the blood would rush back to my brain since it had dropped to my
feet. I sat in that position for over
five minutes then straightened up to look at the phone again. I pressed the button to regain the dial tone
and my insides turned to water. I slowly
put the phone back into its cradle.
When my
brain regained its normal blood flow I picked up the phone with
determination. Her number was written on
the piece of paper I flattened out in front of me. I took two deep breaths, made up my mind and
dialed.
It rang. I
slammed the phone down. My breathing
came in short bursts.
“Is
something wrong?” my mother asked standing in the door frame.
“It’s, uh,
harder than I thought to, uh, call a girl,” I stammered out.
“Just take
your time. She won’t bite you. Don’t you remember what I told you about my
first meeting with your dad?” She smiled at me, the memory coming to her.
Dad was a
sailor with free time to explore the town. He stepped onto the bus holding the
coins out for the driver to choose.
“I’m not
used to your money,” he said his accent and Royal Navy uniform cluing the
driver that he would be helping this British sailor. He picked out the coins needed to carry dad
to Riverland Terrace.
“This and
this,” he said picking two dimes from dad’s hand. “Have a seat anywhere in the
front of the bus.” He jerked his thumb
to the rear while saying this. As dad grabbed the pole and started back the
driver closed the folding door and jammed the gearshift into first.
His eyes
immediately fell upon a brunette sitting by the window. The seat beside her was unoccupied. He noticed but made no move to sit there. It
was the only open seat available but he simply decided to stand, holding on to
the pole. My mother had been eyeing him
since he stepped aboard. Her smile was
meant to invite him to sit. It wasn’t
working. She saw him looking at her from
the corner of his eye with a faint smile.
She knew he was taken with her looks but he was making no move to talk
with her.
“Hey
sailor,” she said.
He ignored
her.
“Hey sailor,”
she said again. He turned.
“Yes, you.
There’s a seat here.”
“Thank you
but I’m fine here,” he said smiling at her.
My mother
became a bit frustrated and blurted out, “I’m not going to bite you!”
“Alright,
miss. I’ll sit.” He let go the pole and stepped over to the
open seat. He sat beside her silently.
My mother
was beside herself. This guy wouldn’t
even talk to her when clearly he had been taken by her from the moment he
stepped onto the bus.
“It’s
alright to talk to me. As I said, I
won’t bite you.”
And with
that they began to get to know one another.
“Yes, I know
the story,” I said to her.
“Well then
you should be able to talk to your girlfriend without fear of being bitten.”
“Oh, mom,
she’s not my girlfriend.”
“Well,
whatever she is, I’m sure she will be happy to go to the fair with you.”
“Do you
really think so?” She smiled, nodded,
then left the room.
Encouraged,
I picked up the phone. I dialed the
number. The phone rang on her end. I was almost ready to hang up after the third
ring but a voice floated across the line.
“Hello?”
I had to
catch my breath. By the time she said
the third hello I had caught my breath and blurted out, “Would you like to go
to the fair with me this weekend?”
There was a
pause as static crinkled into my ear.
“Is this
Rickey?”
“Uh,
yes. Do you think you’d like to go?”
“Hang on a
minute. I have to ask my parents.”
My heart
nearly burst from my chest. The most
gorgeous girl I know wants to go to the fair with me. My mind flew in all directions. We were walking hand in hand along the
booths. There was a hill with daisies
and sunflowers welcoming us as we ran together hand in hand beneath the deep
blue sky. A small cottage behind a barricade
of wild flowers encased in a white picket fence beckoned us into a future of
bliss and…
“Hello,
Rickey?”
Her voice
brought me back to the present with my inability to breathe or speak.
“Rickey?
Hello? Hello?”
I tried to
speak.
“Rickey? Are
you there?”
“Uh…yes,” I
said in a hoarse whisper.
“My daddy
wants to know how we will be getting there.”
“Oh, uh, my
folks will be taking us.”
“Oh. OK. Hang on again.”
Once again
my thoughts took flight with us hand in hand…
“Hello,
Rickey?”
I snapped
back immediately.
“Yes, I’m
here.”
“Daddy said
that will be OK then.”
We talked
for a bit as I told her what day and time this “date” would be. We wound up our conversation with a smiling
goodbye on each end. I slammed the phone
into its cradle and jumped for joy.
“I take it
she said yes?” asked my dad.
“She sure
did!”
“I’m happy
for you, son. Now what are you going to
use for money?”
“Huh?
Money?”
“Yes. Usually the boy pays for everything. How are you going to manage that?” Dad asked grinning at me.
“Gosh, I
don’t know. I think I still have a
dollar left over from my allowance. How much do I need?”
“That
depends. What all do you plan to do on
this date? Rides? Cotton candy? Games?”
“Yes.” The
utterance came slowly from my lips.
“That’s
going to cost quite a bit for two people.”
Money. I hadn’t given it a thought. Good grief!
Where would I get money for this date?
“Would you
give me the money?”
“Give?” said
dad. “I might be able to provide it for
some chores being done.”
“Chores?”
“Your
helping your mother with the dishes was a nice gesture. I’m sure there are a lot of things we could
think of to earn a little so you can impress your date.”
Chores? The
thought conjured up chopping wood, cutting grass, trimming hedges, raking
leaves, all manner of WORK! It was
something I was not too familiar with since I was always studying or watching
TV. Now came the time to step up and do
my duty for my woman. Yeah, my
woman. And with that thought came the
open sky settling over the cottage lined with wild flowers and the white picket
fence beside a gurgling…
“Rickey!” my
dad’s voice cracked through the fantasy my mind was lost in. “Where did you go, son?”
“Oh, I was
trying to think of chores to earn money,” I lied.
“You let me
decide on those chores.”
“Yes sir!”
The rest of
the week was a busy time for me. My dad
handed me a piece of paper with a list of things to be done and each day after
school I took it out to begin some new torture he had devised. I should have known the smile that he gave me
along with the list was going to be challenging.
Each day at
school I’d sneak a few minutes with my woman beyond the eyes of my
buddies. It was challenge, too, but a
much more rewarding one. To collect her
smiles was the true fortune I garnered.
And then it
was the weekend and time for the fair.
Though I had seen her that day I was weak in the knees as our car
approached her place.
“That’s it!”
I yelled out as dad was slipping past it.
When he
stopped I froze. I couldn’t lift my arm
to the door handle. I couldn’t breathe.
“Rickey?
What is it son?” My mother leaned over the front seat and shook me.
“Uh…” was
all I could stammer.
“Come on,
boy. We’re here. It’s your job to go to the front door to
fetch her.” My dad’s voice came through with instructions yet my arms and legs
remained frozen.
“You aren’t
going to make me go for you, are you?
That would not make a good impression, so get hold of yourself and get
moving.” He reached over the seat and
opened my door. “Go on then.”
I leaned out
the door trying to get my legs to follow. Holding on to the door I finally was able to
toss my legs out of the car and onto the ground. Slowly I stood up straight. A couple of slow deep breaths gave me some
strength and I leaned toward the sidewalk my legs finally moving to keep me
from toppling over. In a haze of fright
I slowly ambled to the door.
There’s the
door, I thought. It was in front of me
lit up by the yellow bulb shining beside it.
I reached for the bell when the door opened.
“I was
wondering if you would ever make it,” she said as my hand hit the bell. Behind her it rang blocking her voice along
with the blood pounding in my ears.
“Uh,
hi. I, uh, um, I’m here to pick you up.”
“That’s
good. Won’t you come in to meet my
parents?”
“Uh, do I,
uh, have to?” I mumbled.
“They really
want to meet you.”
I walked
zombie-like past the door frame into the front room lit up like an
interrogation room. All the lights
seemed to be blearing there sun bright light straight into my eyes. Two shadows behind those lights stepped
forward. I held my hand in front of my
eyes to ward off the blinding sear of white light. My hand was grabbed and shaken rippling up
through my entire body. The hand pumps
hid the shaking of my knees and frame.
“How do you
do, son. Rickey isn’t it?” said her
father behind the lights.
What’s with
the third degree? My mind screamed.
“Uh, yes
sir, Rickey.”
“I take it
you are going to make sure my daughter enjoys herself?”
Once again
my mind began screaming, how can I ensure that?
When do the rubber hoses come out?
“Uh, I’ll do
my best, sir” I offered.
“OK, then,
you two get a move on and enjoy your evening.
Honey, be home early.”
“My dad
wants to wait for the car raffle drawing.
Um, I’m not sure what time that will be.”
“I’ll go out
and introduce myself and find out,” said her dad heading for the door.
I helped
Linda with her coat and we followed along behind. Our dads spoke while we climbed into the
backseat. I shut the door. My dad shook hands with her dad who then said
goodbye to his daughter and turned to the house. My dad pulled off into the street. I looked
at my date. She seemed a bit
embarrassed. I smiled. She smiled back. My mother turned toward the backseat.
“Hi,
Linda. Since our son isn’t going to
introduce us I will. I’m Rickey’s mother
and this is his dad. We’ve heard so much
about you that we feel like we know you.”
Linda looked
at me, then back at my mom.
“I had no
idea. I’m glad to meet you both. It’s awfully nice of you to let me go with
you.”
The small
talk continued as we drove to the county fairgrounds.
I’m on a
date! I screamed in my head. This is
going to be the best night ever. I
watched Linda as she and my mother continued to talk. She is so wonderful, I thought drifting off
into my fantasy world.
I was
trimming the grass around the cottage as my dad stopped the car jolting me back
to reality.
“We’re
here!”
I jumped out
and held my hand for hers as I had seen my heroes in the movies do for their
fair maidens, she being my Fair Maiden…hahaha, uh, sorry.
“I’ll pay
for everything,” said my dad.
I looked at
him.
“You did a
fair job for a fair wage which I haven’t given you so I’ll pay your Fair
expenses.” And I used to wonder where my
sense of humour came from.
The chill in
the air made us glad we had worn our coats.
My only thought was how do I take her hand while we walk around deciding
what to do first.
There were
barkers calling out for us to try our hand at their games of skill and
chance. One of them had a wall of
balloons to be burst by a set of darts for a buck.
“Ooh, can I try
my hand?” I yelled at dad who was looking for the car raffle booth.
“Yes, go
right on,” he said.
He handed
the man a dollar and I picked up my darts.
The first one flew right toward the pink balloon in the corner only to
knock it to the side embedding itself in the cork. No hit there. Number two sailed into the cork
board without bumping any one of them.
And number three took flight heading straight for a bright blue one but
a gust of air pushed it out of the point’s path.
“Try your
hand again, boy. You almost had that
last one. Win a teddy bear for your
pretty young girl friend.”
I looked at
dad. He handed the guy a dollar. Those darts I knew were destined to pop three
in a row and, yet, not one fell victim to my deadly aim.
“Ah, too
bad, young man, but there’s plenty more darts and balloons for another
dollar. This time luck’s sure to be on
your shoulder.” He looked at me then at a teddy bear on the wall. Then he
winked and moved his head in Linda’s direction. He was right. I knew I could win one with this next try. I
looked at dad who was still trying to find the car raffle booth.
“Dad?”
“Come on,
son. You don’t want to waste all your
time and money at the first booth.
There’s plenty to do here.”
“You’re
right,” I said. “Let’s look around some
more. “
I looked at
my date, I was proud of that word and this chance to be with my woman, and
asked, “What would you like to do?”
“The Ferris
Wheel!”
I froze. My
face must have turned the shade of a hen’s egg as the blood left it to drop to
my toes. The Ferris wheel? How could I
get her to change her mind. Didn’t she
know that thing went up high over the ground? Yeah, obviously she did but it
made no difference to her. The Ferris
wheel? I never even thought about that being something she would want to
do. I couldn’t move.
“Rickey,
come on. Your dad sees the booth to buy
tickets for the car.” She took off after my folks. I finally pulled my legs up by the roots and
ran after her.
“Here it
is!” said my dad. “This is the winning ticket this year!”
He always
said that. We were still driving the
Ford he bought from Paul Motor Company two years ago.
“I’m good
now. What’s next?” he asked.
“The Ferris
Wheel.” It was Linda’s voice cutting through the chill of the night air.
“The Ferris
Wheel it is,” said my dad watching me.
Concern began to show in his face.
Now I had
never ridden the Ferris Wheel. I had
never had any desire to ride the Ferris Wheel.
It was one thing that simply did not exist in my world. I had passed it each year while at the Fair
without acknowledging its existence. And now all of a sudden we were walking
toward it.
There was a
line. We stood at the back of the line.
I looked up at the top of the round wheel reaching high into the cold
black sky. My breath came out in heavy
clouds of condensation. Sweat began to form on my brow in the cold air
surrounding me. The top of that wheel
kept getting higher as I stared at it. Linda tugged on my sleeve to get me to
keep up with the shortening line. Maybe
it would be filled and there would be no room for us, I hoped. The closer we
got the higher it grew. I watched the
seats swing back and forth as the wheel stopped to load passengers. The chair held up to three as three in front
of us climbed in and latched the bar in front of them. The wheel moved. My dad paid for four tickets. Slowly I moved toward the seat dragging my
feet. Sweat began to sting my eyes.
My dad and
my mother climbed into their seat all smiles.
Dad settled back pulling the arm shut before them.
“OK, son,”
said the ticket salesman. “Your girlfriend is already in your seat. Don’t you think it’s time you climbed in
beside her?” He winked at me.
I walked
over with all the strength I could muster.
I grabbed the side and pulled myself up into the seat. The first thing I noticed, besides the
pendulum swinging movement, was the seat as I sat thinking I would sink into
it. Nope. That seat was hard and sat me high without
that sense of security I would have felt if it had settle down with my bum so
that I felt a part of it. As it was I
felt as if that seat wanted me off because there was no give. It was slippery as well. My center of gravity was well over the side
rails and I felt the chair’s intent was to tip forward and slide me right out
at the top. Before I could latch the bar
in front of us the wheel lurched backwards causing the chair to rock more. I
braced my feet against the metal and white knuckled the bar in front of
me. As this was going on and I was
bracing myself from being tossed out of my seat with the next abrupt backward
movement I could hear my name.
“Rickey!
Rickey! Are you alright!”
What had
been a faint sound began to be a frantic shout along with being shaken. Linda was shouting into my ear. Her face had a worried look. My face must have been a white mask of sheer
fright.
The wheel
began to move steadily backward and then up.
I looked out and the sky seemed to drop down on me. The lights of town appeared to fall backward
beyond the Fairgrounds. My stomach left
my body in its fervent desire to remain at ground level. All my blood seemed to
pool in the center of my being. As the
wheel picked up speed and began dropping I heard someone screaming. The man at the controls must have heard
someone screaming, too, as our bobbing chair passed him. He was staring straight at me with a puzzled
look on his face. How could he not hear
those screams? I heard them. They were
getting louder all the time. The sky
rushed at me as we came to the pinnacle and rushed down again.
Out of the
corner of my eye I saw the man at the controls looking at me again. Shouldn’t he be looking at whoever was
screaming? But there was no time to
think about that as the wheel kept spinning.
The chair kept rocking. My butt
kept sliding forward to be jettisoned at the chair’s convenience. Once again we were on the descent and the
screams were at fever pitch. I could
hear the words now.
“STOP THIS
THING! LET ME OFF! STOP IT! CAN’T YOU
HEAR ME! STOP THIS THING! LET ME OFF!
PLEASE! LET ME OFF!”
When the
wheel stopped so that our chair was bobbing at ground level I realized it was
me. I was the one screaming at the top
of my lungs. And the blood rushed to my
face as the embarrassment caught up with my realization.
The man
running the machine was saying something as he unlatched the bar. I shot out of the seat and raced into the
crowd putting as much space between me and that infernal contraption as I could
find. I never looked back. I just ran becoming lost in the sea of people all
around walking the flat surface of the earth as God meant for us.
I found a
post on the other side of the fairgrounds to lean on. My stomach lurched like the wheel had done
but nothing happened. I stayed leaning
for a long time attempting to regain my composure. Once I did I knew humiliation through and
through. I had screamed like a girl, no,
worse than a girl to get off one of the tamest rides at the fairgrounds. If I had been alone it would have been one
thing but I hadn’t been alone. I had
been with the girl of my dreams. I had
shown utter fear right in front of the most wonderful girl in the world. I wanted to cry but refused to add that to my
shame.
It was then
I realized I had to go back and face this person through this sense of
worthlessness. I simply could not do
it. There had to be some place for
failures such as I. But where? And how would I manage? I wasn’t even in high school proper yet. And how could I face all my friends when word
of this got out? My life was over. I
knew it. What to do?
I began my
slow trudge back to that horrid ride.
Maybe if I won a teddy bear for her she would have pity on me. I stopped at a couple of booths trying
desperately to win some stuffed animal or a bronze statue of a horse. I knew she liked horses. It wasn’t to be. I spent the few dollars I had to exhibit
absolutely no skill in any of the games.
My pockets empty, my dreams gone, my pride stripped from me, I continued
my somber walk back to the wheel.
There it
was, stopped. All the chairs were
swinging on their pivots. A new batch of
pleasure seekers climbing into those overstuffed chairs. While I was looking up at it I heard a voice
calling out my name.
“Rickey!”
I looked
around. It was Linda running over to me.
“Rickey, are
you alright?” she asked with real concern in her voice.
“I’m, uh,
OK. I had to… I…
I’m so sorry. I must have
embarrassed you to no end.”
“It’s OK,”
she said. “We were just worried about
you. I had no idea you were afraid of
heights.’
“Uh
huh. They scare me.”
“I’m so
sorry you were scared. Let’s forget
about it.”
My folks
came up behind me. Dad’s hand rested on
my shoulder. He put some pressure into
it, then, patted it.
“Are you OK,
son?” he asked.
“I think
so.”
“Can we get
some cotton candy?” asked Linda.
“Sure,” I
said, “if dad still has the money.”
“I think we
can manage that,” was his answer. We
marched off in the direction of the confectioner’s booth and into the land of
memory.