REWIND
CHAPTER TWO
\pard\keepn\s1\qc\ldblquote WASH AWAY MY TROUBLES, WASH AWAY MY PAIN\rdblquote
\pard\qc
\pard NOVEMBER 4\super th\nosupersub , 1977
\b0 The next day, I was still reeling.
Beth, you see, had leukemia. She was going to die. I\rquote d lived through it once before, and did \b not\b0 handle it well at \b all\b0 . Now I was going to live through it again.
I didn\rquote t see any way to change it. I didn\rquote t have a cure for leukemia in my back pocket--it still hadn\rquote t been cured in my \lquote time\rquote . There were better treatments--bone marrow transplants and all that--but there were two problems with that. First of all, how would a 12 year old kid get away with suggesting, to an oncologist, a treatment that hadn\rquote t been invented yet? And, second of all, Beth had one of the more virulent forms of leukemia. Even in 2007, bone marrow transplants didn\rquote t always work.
And I\rquote d started to get excited. I\rquote d started to think I\rquote d been \lquote sent back\rquote to change things, fix my life, make things better.
Some things can\rquote t be changed. No matter what you do. Beth was going to die again, and I was going to have to live through it again.
At that moment, if whoever it was that was responsible for me going back had shown up in my room, I'd have strangled him
Yeah, of course, a glimmer of hope. Maybe this wasn\rquote t the same \lquote universe\rquote or time-track or whatever you call it, yadda yadda--but I didn\rquote t think so. Too much had happened that was just predictable. It seemed that \b I\b0 could change things that I was directly involved in--the conversation about female body parts, or my conversation with Cyndi about kissing--but I had no cure for leukemia handy.
I took this day, November 4\super th\nosupersub , off from school, pleading illness. Since I hardly ever missed school, Mom let me get away with it.
I stayed in my room all day, listening to my new Beatles and Bruce Springsteen albums, thinking. This was one of the things I\rquote d thought about anyhow--trying to figure out the difference between what I could change and what I couldn\rquote t. Beth\rquote s illness made me more aware of that.
She was going to die. Period. Couldn\rquote t be changed. Christ, I even knew the date.
What I \b could\b0 change is how \b I\b0 dealt with it.
One thing you have to understand--Beth \b knew\b0 . She was strong-willed, and smart, and not the type of person who would sit well with platitudes. She knew exactly what was wrong with her. She demanded to be told, and she knew what the prognosis was for this strain of leukemia--95% fatality rate within 5 years. 75% within two years. 50% within one. It was a death sentence, and she knew it.
Which explains how \b she\b0 acted. I saw her off and on in eighth grade. I went to the Prep for ninth, didn\rquote t see her as much. But then, we had a Christmas semi-formal dance at the Prep, and I took her. We had a great time. I saw her a couple weeks later, when we went to the mall to do some Christmas shopping.
Then--nothing. I\rquote d call, and she\rquote d hang up with some excuse. I\rquote d leave a message and she wouldn\rquote t call back. Look, in adulthood, I realized what had happened. She, knowing the end was coming, was trying to distance herself from me. She was either getting too close, or figured that \b I\b0 was getting too close. She, I think, was trying to save me pain.
It didn\rquote t work--because I did not see or talk to her for the last 8 months of her life. That has haunted me forever. I didn\rquote t say goodbye. I never told her I loved her. It wasn\rquote t her fault--I let it happen. I was a stupid kid. I don\rquote t think the true meaning of her prognosis \b really\b0 sunk in to me until she was dead.
Speaking of things I could \b damn\b0 well change--hadn\rquote t I just hit on one?
Yes, I had. Damn \b right\b0 I had. No doubt about it.
Knowing that, well--it didn\rquote t make everything better. How could it? But it made things clearer to me. I loved Beth. Not romantically--we were both too young when she was diagnosed to even start to think about that--but I loved her. I\rquote d say as a sister, but I loved her more than I loved my sister, horrible as that might be to admit! And it had haunted me for almost 30 years that I never \b told\b0 her that. You can say, \ldblquote Oh, she knew,\rdblquote but I\rquote ve never been sure.
Knowing I could change \b that\b0 , at least, helped enormously. But, it was strange--I was looking for other things to change. I guess I wanted to balance the scales.
I found one--well, one I could \b try\b0 , anyhow. That night, after supper, I was sitting with my Dad. He asked me if I was feeling better and I told him I was. Which I was, a little, though it was all mental. Then I gave him a hint.
\ldblquote Hey, Dad, while I was napping I had this really strange dream.\rdblquote
\ldblquote Really?\rdblquote Dad said.
\ldblquote Yeah, and I\rquote d better tell you about it, just in case I\rquote m clairvoyant.\rdblquote
\ldblquote OK,\rdblquote he laughed.
\ldblquote Well, it was kind of murky, but the message I got from it was--eye protection.\rdblquote
\ldblquote Eye protection?\rdblquote he asked.
\ldblquote Yeah. Basically, if you even have a glimmer of a thought that you might need eye protection, get some. Don\rquote t take a chance. Hey, I told you it was a dream.\rdblquote
\ldblquote Yeah. Eye protection, huh?\rdblquote
\ldblquote Yeah. You lost an eye in the dream. Not sure how, but it was in a situation where you might have shrugged off eye protection.\rdblquote
\ldblquote OK,\rdblquote he said, \ldblquote I\rquote ll keep that in mind.\rdblquote
Good. There you go. When it came true, he might think I was nuts or something, but I didn\rquote t really plan on making a habit of this, so, if it was only one clairvoyant dream\'85
Of course, it was no dream. What had happened was, he was in Chuck\rquote s Bar, one of his favorite taverns, getting a cold one after work. At Chuck\rquote s--and he\rquote d taken me in there many times--they had these strange floor mats. They were rubber, but surrounding them on the outside was a thin strip of metal.
On the day in question, one of the metal strips had come loose and was sticking up in the air. Chuck, the owner, a friend of Dad\rquote s, said to Dad, \ldblquote Hey, Jimmy, can you go get your wire cutters and cut that thing? The waitresses keep tripping on it.\rdblquote Dad was a plumber, and had all sorts of those tools in his truck. He got his wire cutters--didn\rquote t get his goggles. You can figure the rest. He cut that piece of metal and it sprung straight up.
He had nine operations trying to re-attach his retina. They didn\rquote t work. After that, he rushed back to work--and quickly developed degenerative arthritis and had to have both hips replaced. There was no \b proof\b0 that the rushing back to work--and 14 hour days-- after two years of idleness had caused the hip problems, but all the doctors thought so.
Dad was self-employed, and had \b just\b0 decided to do that, so there was no \lquote business\rquote yet. That series of medical events meant financial disaster for the family. Mom was only working part-time at the time. We even ended up on welfare for a while. Dad was basically out of work for four years.
If I had just prevented \b that\b0 , I\rquote d be a happy camper. I just hope Dad remembered when the time came. I knew it was sometime in eighth grade that this happened, but couldn\rquote t remember exactly when.
\b NOVEMBER 6\super th\nosupersub , 1977
\b0
Another Saturday, and I was running. Besides keeping me in shape, I found running good for thinking. I just wish the Walkman had been invented!
On this particular Saturday I had pushed myself. It was a good day for running, just about 50 degrees--cool, not too hot, but not frigid, either. I\rquote d gone longer than usual and when I wound my way through Morris Park, I was winded.
I came down the hill on Williams Road, basically walking. I\rquote d overdone it a wee bit.
\ldblquote Hey, it\rquote s Running Man! But he\rquote s walking!\rdblquote I looked over, and on Kelly Cullinane\rquote s porch sat Kelly and Kara, chatting. Kelly was the one who had called.
\ldblquote Yeah, hi girls. I over did it a wee bit today.\rdblquote
\ldblquote Sit,\rdblquote Kara said, grinning, pointing to the steps next to her. \ldblquote Rest a bit.\rdblquote
\ldblquote I guess I should,\rdblquote I grinned, and sat next to her.
\ldblquote Hold on,\rdblquote Kelly said, and ran into her house. She came right back out with a glass of lemonade.
\ldblquote Kelly, you\rquote re a doll,\rdblquote I grinned, and happily accepted it.
\ldblquote We\rquote ve been talking, Kelly and I, about you,\rdblquote Kara said.
\ldblquote Oh, \b really\b0 ,\rdblquote I replied with a grin--something I never would\rquote ve been capable of the first time around.
\ldblquote Yes, really,\rdblquote Kara grinned back. \ldblquote You\rquote ve changed. A lot. In like the last month.\rdblquote
\ldblquote I\rquote m trying to,\rdblquote I admitted. \ldblquote I haven\rquote t been happy.\rdblquote
\ldblquote Is it better?\rdblquote Kelly asked.
\ldblquote Some. Some things can\rquote t be changed, though.\rdblquote
\ldblquote Yeah,\rdblquote Kara said, somewhat sadly.
\ldblquote Hey, I\rquote ve been meaning to ask you. I\rquote ve seen you talking to Beth Trovini, so obviously you know her,\rdblquote Kelly asked. \ldblquote Is she sick?\rdblquote
Damn, I\rquote d been feeling better for a minute there. \ldblquote Yes, she\rquote s sick.\rdblquote Beth wasn\rquote t keeping it a secret, she\rquote d told me that. \ldblquote Beth has leukemia.\rdblquote
\ldblquote Oh,\rdblquote Kelly said. \ldblquote Is she going to\'85.\rdblquote
\ldblquote Most likely,\rdblquote I replied. \ldblquote The prognosis isn\rquote t good at all.\rdblquote
\ldblquote Oh, damn. I was right that you know her?\rdblquote Kelly asked.
I took a deep breath. \ldblquote You girls have known me for a long time. You know the list of people I consider friends is very short. Beth\rquote s at the top of it. I\rquote ve known her since I was born. She\rquote s like a sister.\rdblquote
\ldblquote Oh, damn, Eddie,\rdblquote Kara said, lightly laying a hand on my shoulder. \ldblquote I\rquote m so sorry.\rdblquote
My mind was whirling. Kara was being so nice to me! And that\rquote s when I had another revelation--she always \b had\b0 been. For all the years I\rquote d known her, she was one of the nicest, sweetest girls in school, especially to me. She\rquote d \b never\b0 treated me like the outcast that I usually was.
Until I made the mistake of falling for her, and acting like a complete brain-dead lovesick idiot around her.
Only, now, I wasn\rquote t. And she was back to being her sweet self. \ldblquote Thanks,\rdblquote I said, \ldblquote to both of you. It means a lot.\rdblquote I stood up, and forced a smile. \ldblquote Back to running. Thanks for the lemonade, Kelly, it really hit the spot.\rdblquote
\ldblquote Anytime,\rdblquote she grinned. I took off.
\b DECEMBER 12\super th\nosupersub , 1977
\b0
I was adjusting, more and more, to my situation. I\rquote d been back for over two months, and, except for the Beth dilemma, I found myself able to adjust to things better and better.
However, one of the \lquote events\rquote I had been waiting for happened last week.
Roger Herren, the guy from the \lquote cunt\rquote discussion, was involved. It was in metal shop. He was sitting behind me. He thought it would be fun to take a strip of metal, heat it up with his lighter, and then grab my hand and slap the hot metal on my hand.
Giving me second-degree burns on my hand. This was just the way I was treated the first time around.
And it had happened again \b this\b0 time. Roger Herren\rquote s an asshole in any timeline I guess. What had happened next, in both times, is that, juiced with adrenaline from the pain, I had gotten out of my seat and \b wailed\b0 on him. First fight I ever won in my life.
The last time around I\rquote d talked about it too much. People would ask and I\rquote d say, \ldblquote Yeah, I kicked the shit out of him.\rdblquote Of course, \b that\b0 got back to Roger and he got his revenge. Without that shot of adrenaline, I was no match for him--he was bigger than I was. I\rquote d evened the scales some with the weightlifting, but he was still bigger than I was. I was hoping to avoid the revenge beating this time around.
And no, nothing happened to him--no suspensions, no nothing. The administration of Cabot East were a bunch of spineless assholes, in either timeline.
This time, I didn\rquote t talk. Anyone asked me about it, I just waved it off. But that didn\rquote t seem to change things. Roger, I had heard, still wanted his revenge. He got his opportunity, just like last time, in gym--we were all waiting in a \lquote side gym\rquote , I forget what for. So, there were no teachers \b and\b0 an audience, just what Roger wanted.
Anyhow, I\rquote d been warned this was the time and place. Now, I knew I still wasn\rquote t much of a fighter. But all that running and weightlifting over the past two months had definitely made a change--I was stronger, and in better shape. I thought I could hold my own. Plus, one thing I\rquote d learned, was that assholes like Roger smelled fear. As I said, first time around, I was a walking bundle of fear. This time I wasn\rquote t.
I didn\rquote t wait for him. I walked right over to him. \ldblquote Hey, Roger, I hear you want another go-round.\rdblquote He looked at me. \ldblquote I hear you plan to beat the shit out of me today, for \lquote revenge.\rquote You know, I think fucking second-degree burns on my hand would be enough for you, but if you want to go again, we can go again.\rdblquote
He stood up--reluctantly, it seemed to me. \ldblquote I have to keep my rep,\rdblquote he said.
\ldblquote As what? The school asshole?\rdblquote I snorted.
\ldblquote Better than being the school wimp,\rdblquote he spat at me.
I glared at him. \ldblquote If you think I\rquote m still the school wimp, then this might be a very interesting exercise.\rdblquote I glared \b right\b0 into his eyes. No fucking fear, not this time. I could take him, I convinced myself.
Well, as it turned out--not quite. But I held my own. It was, more or less, a draw. He got a few good licks in, but I did too, until a couple of the gym teachers came in and broke it up.
Of course, I got sent to the unit director--in my case, Mr. Legerre, a complete asshole who blamed \b me\b0 for getting beat up. He started in on me for this one, and I said, \ldblquote So, tell me--why don\rquote t students that give other students second-degree burns get suspended? Maybe if you\rquote d clamp down on some of this shit, I wouldn\rquote t have to keep constantly defending myself.\rdblquote Legerre sputtered and fumed--but, hell, I hadn\rquote t been scared of that slimeball the \b first\b0 time around.
\b DECEMBER 17\super th\nosupersub , 1977
\b0
It was a Saturday, and I was spending it with Cyndi. We were at her house. Her mother was home, but we were allowed to be in her bedroom. Her mother trusted us. Of course, her mother wasn\rquote t more than 20 feet away either, even if she was in another room! Cyndi\rquote s mom also liked me, a lot.
We\rquote d been getting along just fine. I hadn\rquote t really pushed the kissing issue. I had, however, made jokes about it. I had another one planned. It was a week before Christmas, right? So, I had a good one planned.
We were sitting side-by-side on her bed--really, the only place to sit in that room were her and Dina\rquote s beds--just chatting. During a lull in the conversation, I reached into my pocket.
\ldblquote Look what I\rquote ve got!\rdblquote I said, dangling it over my head. \ldblquote Mistletoe! You know what you\rquote re supposed to do under the mistletoe, right?\rdblquote I grinned at her.
She cracked up laughing. \ldblquote You are \b such\b0 a brat,\rdblquote she said.
\ldblquote Ah, come on, you\rquote re no fun,\rdblquote I said, still grinning, as I dangled the mistletoe over her head.
\ldblquote No,\rdblquote she said, though she was still laughing.
\ldblquote How about a compromise?\rdblquote I said. She looked at me. \ldblquote Your cheek. Let me kiss your cheek.\rdblquote
\ldblquote Well, I suppose that would be OK,\rdblquote she said, and turned her head, giving me access to her cheek.
OK, so I\rquote m a devious blankety-blank. I kissed her cheek, very softly, very slowly. But I didn\rquote t stop there. \ldblquote Hmmm. Would this be considered close enough to a cheek?\rdblquote I asked--and then, very lightly, kissed her neck. She hissed out a breath, but didn\rquote t say anything. \ldblquote And this is part of the cheek, isn\rquote t it?\rdblquote I said, and then gave one little soft nibble on her earlobe. That was accompanied by a loud gasp on her part. After that, I backed away.
We chatted for a while after that, but she was distracted. The look in her eyes was unfathomable. However, the chat was interesting--I did remember this from the first time. It was the \lquote fag\rquote thing.
That was the rumor in eighth grade--that I was gay. I got called \lquote fag\rquote more often than I care to remember. I\rquote d gotten picked on less this time than the first time--but it hadn\rquote t disappeared completely, and the \lquote Ed\rquote s gay\rquote thing was still around. Now, yeah, I know the Seinfeld line: \ldblquote Not that there\rquote s anything wrong with that.\rdblquote And in theory, I agree. In practice? Well, I don\rquote t care what anybody says, being thought of as gay? In eighth grade? In 1977? It \b sucked\b0 . I \b do\b0 have empathy for people who really \b are\b0 gay who had to go through this crap. But it was \b not\b0 a whole lot of fucking fun. It got me beat up, and it got me taunted. Tolerance is a wonderful thing--but when the rest of the world doesn\rquote t have any, it\rquote s hard to find. And, I\rquote m sorry, but the fact that I \b wasn\rquote t\b0 gay didn\rquote t help. Being called \lquote gay\rquote shouldn\rquote t be a slander, something to be ashamed of, I \b know\b0 that--but tell that to my eighth grade classmates.
One of the more painful incidents was the one I was reliving--Cyndi, my freakin\rquote \b girlfriend\b0 , asking me, \ldblquote Ed--are you gay?\rdblquote
I replied pretty much as I had the last time. \ldblquote Oh, yes, Cyndi, that must be it. Sure. Last time I checked, you were a girl--and I\rquote m doing my damndest to get you to let me kiss you. Yup, I must be gay.\rdblquote
\ldblquote I\rquote m sorry,\rdblquote she said, \ldblquote but I hear it so often\'85.\rdblquote
I\rquote ll admit, I was more upset about it than I was the first time. \ldblquote You believe everything you hear? Cyndi, I\rquote m a fucking punching bag. This is just one more weapon for those assholes to get me. And my \b girlfriend\b0 is asking me if it\rquote s true!\rdblquote
\ldblquote I really am sorry,\rdblquote she said in a small voice.
\ldblquote OK, you\rquote re forgiven.\rdblquote
I wonder if that\rquote s what prompted what happened next. It might have been part of it, but I think the neck-and-earlobe nibbling was most of it. Anyway, when it was time to go, she walked me out her front door. She lived on the second floor, and there was a landing there. We walked out onto the landing, and, before I could head down the stairs, she said, \ldblquote Where\rquote s that mistletoe?\rdblquote
\ldblquote Right here,\rdblquote I dug it out of my pocket and, grinning, placed it over my head.
She grabbed my shoulders, leaned in, and kissed me. On the lips, I mean. My very first kiss--well, in this body, anyhow. It was closed-mouth--but it wasn\rquote t quick. It, frankly, had me reeling--and I could see in her eyes that she was too. She pulled away, her eyes hooded, and whispered, \ldblquote Merry Christmas.\rdblquote Then she disappeared through the door.
Hot damn!
\b JANUARY 13\super th\nosupersub , 1978
\b0
It\rquote s funny. A week that ended with the dreaded Friday the Thirteenth ended up being the week that changed my life. Even I didn\rquote t know the extent of it until later, but this week set it all up.
The other funny thing is that it didn\rquote t start out that way. On that Monday, Cyndi dumped me. This was right around the time \b I\b0 had dumped \b her\b0 the first time around. I didn\rquote t really have any intentions of dumping her this time--but she did it for me.
We\rquote d kissed a few times since that first one. And, frankly, I really was happy with that, for the time being. I figured we had plenty of time for anything else--and, having gotten past the kissing barrier was satisfying to me. Unfortunately, it spooked Cyndi. We were \ldblquote moving too fast\rdblquote so she wanted to \ldblquote cool things down.\rdblquote
I was disappointed, but not devastated.
Especially since, on Tuesday, things \b really\b0 started looking up.
It started right in the morning. I got up and Dad was there. \ldblquote Hey, Ed, you\rquote ll never believe what happened.\rdblquote
\ldblquote What, Dad?\rdblquote
He told me--the Eye. It happened exactly as it had happened the first time, except--when he went out to get his wire cutters, he remembered my \lquote dream\rquote and grabbed his goggles.
\ldblquote I couldn\rquote t believe it,\rdblquote he told me, \ldblquote that wire came right up into my face. If I hadn\rquote t had the goggles on, it would\rquote ve gone right through my eye.\rdblquote
\ldblquote Wow,\rdblquote I said, in mock-surprise. \ldblquote Maybe my dreams are clairvoyant,\rdblquote I kidded.
\ldblquote Good. If you have any dreams about the Super Bowl, let me know,\rdblquote he laughed.
\ldblquote Dallas and Denver,\rdblquote I said, having had watched the championship games. I combed my memory. \ldblquote Bet on the Cowboys.\rdblquote
\ldblquote OK,\rdblquote he laughed.
I got to school, and heard some scuttlebutt--evidently, I wasn\rquote t the only person who got dumped. Kara had broken up with Don Nixon. Well, hmmmm--wasn\rquote t \b that\b0 interesting!
I got through the morning, then went to English. English was the class right after lunch.
I hadn\rquote t really thought about it, but that English class was stocked with talent. Cabot East JHS didn\rquote t track--except in math, I was taking algebra because I had passed a test to do so--but somehow, our English class had the kids ranked one through four in the eighth grade class. My erstwhile first girlfriend Christine Seneca was first. Kara was fourth. I was second. Third was a girl named Michelle Pepper.
Michelle was probably the \lquote catch\rquote of the eighth grade class. Not only was she brilliant, she was gorgeous, including being one of those girls that \lquote sprouted\rquote early--you know what I mean. She might be in 8\super th\nosupersub grade, but she had 12\super th\nosupersub grade tits, no doubt about it. However, because of all this, Michelle was sort of aloof. Plus, with \b those\b0 tits and \b those\b0 brains, not to mention her stunning face, she intimidated guys like you wouldn\rquote t believe. The first time around, she certainly had intimidated me, I\rquote ll tell you that. And I wasn\rquote t even interested in her that way--not when she sat behind Kara!
My Beatles-loving pal Stan Murvetsin--an outgoing, chummy sort who didn\rquote t like to let anyone get away with aloofness--teased her mercilessly. Of course he did--look at what her last name was! He\rquote d nicknamed her \ldblquote Sarge\rdblquote almost immediately. Michelle Pepper, Sergeant Pepper, Sarge--get it? Michelle was alternately bemused and annoyed by Stan\rquote s teasing. She \b mostly\b0 took it with good grace. I think, deep down, she appreciated that a boy was teasing and joking with her, instead of stammering and looking at her tits.
On this day, some of us had gotten into class. Class itself hadn\rquote t really started yet, but some of us were there early from lunch. Mrs. Sinclair was also there.
Stan started in on \ldblquote Sarge\rdblquote . She, laughing, told him to knock it off. That\rquote s when I butted in.
\ldblquote You\rquote d better watch out, Michelle. He\rquote s been sticking to your last name. He hasn\rquote t glommed on to your \b first\b0 name, yet. Lucky you, named after \b two\b0 Beatles songs.\rdblquote
\ldblquote I was waiting to deal with the first name,\rdblquote Stan said, \ldblquote until I had the opportunity to serenade her with it.\rdblquote
\ldblquote Oh, please, do \b not\b0 sing!\rdblquote I told him. Stan and I had been friends on the first go-round, but were even better friends this time, and I could tease him. \ldblquote I\rquote ve heard you sing. It sounds like cats being strangled.\rdblquote Michelle--and Kara, who was there--giggled at this.
\ldblquote Not true!\rdblquote Stan protested.
\ldblquote You\rquote ll scare away \b all\b0 the girls if you start singing.\rdblquote
This is when Mrs. Sinclair, the bitch, decided to butt in. I swear, that woman just hated me. \ldblquote Mr. Bovilas, you shouldn\rquote t say nasty things about your classmates.\rdblquote
\ldblquote Ah, Stan\rquote s my friend, he knows I\rquote m just giving him a hard time.\rdblquote Stan \b wasn\rquote t\b0 upset, this was banter. \ldblquote And he knows he can\rquote t sing.\rdblquote
\ldblquote I suppose you can do better?\rdblquote Mrs. Sinclair spat.
\ldblquote Yup. I \b can\b0 sing.\rdblquote
\ldblquote Put your money where your mouth is,\rdblquote Mrs. Sinclair said nastily. \ldblquote Get up in front of class, favor us all with a tune.\rdblquote
\ldblquote Need my guitar,\rdblquote I said.
\ldblquote Then bring it in tomorrow, Mr. Bovilas. I\rquote m sure we\rquote d all like to see how good you are, considering how you disparage other people.\rdblquote
\ldblquote Fine, you\rquote re on,\rdblquote I said, \ldblquote as long as I can come up here before first period and drop my guitar off with you--I don\rquote t want to lug it around.\rdblquote
\ldblquote Fine,\rdblquote she said, clearly expecting me not to show up on Wednesday with my guitar.
After class, Kara caught up to me. \ldblquote Are you really going to do it?\rdblquote
\ldblquote You bet your ass,\rdblquote I told her.
Stan was with me. \ldblquote He \b can\b0 sing, I\rquote ve heard him. I\rquote ve never heard him play, though.\rdblquote
\ldblquote I can play,\rdblquote I told both of them. \ldblquote I\rquote m no Eric Clapton, but I hold my own. And I want to shove it down Sinclair\rquote s throat.\rdblquote
\ldblquote I know, what \b is\b0 her problem?\rdblquote Stan asked. \ldblquote You weren\rquote t bothering me.\rdblquote He grinned at Kara. \ldblquote It\rquote s true, I \b can\rquote t\b0 sing.\rdblquote
\ldblquote Her problem is that she hates boys. She especially hates \b smart\b0 boys. I\rquote m both. She hates my guts.\rdblquote
\ldblquote She picked on you whole class after that,\rdblquote Kara said.
\ldblquote Yeah, I know. And on my birthday.\rdblquote
\ldblquote Really? Happy birthday!\rdblquote Kara said. That\rquote s right, it was my 13\super th\nosupersub birthday. Time to give myself a slightly late birthday present.
Wednesday morning, I walked into Mrs. Sinclair\rquote s room with my guitar. \ldblquote See you after lunch,\rdblquote I said with a smile.
I had pumped myself up about this. I could play. And, though my voice didn\rquote t quite have the resonance at 13 that it would gain in adulthood, I \b could\b0 sing. I just had to remember to be uninhibited and go for it.
So, we got to English and she called me up, still expecting for me to fall on my face. I got my guitar out and made sure it was in tune. I was going to have fun with this. I\rquote d never done anything like this the first time around--too scary, of course. This time, I wasn\rquote t scared.
\ldblquote OK,\rdblquote I said, \ldblquote since this whole thing started because Mrs. Sinclair was \b eavesdropping\b0 onto a conversation between Stan, Michelle, and myself, I guess I\rquote ve got to start off with this one.\rdblquote So I played--of course--\ldblquote Michelle\rdblquote . Sailed right through it. It was one of my favorite songs to play throughout life, so I knew it cold. And I sang it \b right\b0 to Michelle--with a smile on my face, of course, letting her know I was just playing around. I leaned right at her desk for the \ldblquote I love you, I love you, I loooooove you,\rdblquote part, and she gave me a huge smile. I didn\rquote t miss a note, singing or playing. When I was done, I got raucous applause--and it felt \b damn\b0 good
They called for another, Mrs. Sinclair--stunned out of her tiny mind--acquiesced. \ldblquote OK, since I\rquote m playing acoustic--James Taylor\rquote s not too wimpy is it?\rdblquote Everyone laughed. \ldblquote I love playing this song,\rdblquote and I went into \ldblquote Shower The People.\rdblquote It went over well.
They called for one more. Mrs. Sinclair--who, by now, looked like she wanted to cry--said, \ldblquote OK, but this is the last one.\rdblquote
\ldblquote All right, I\rquote m going to try to rock out on an acoustic.\rdblquote Hell, I\rquote d done it plenty times before. I even saw Melissa Ethredge do it--of course, that wouldn\rquote t happen for 23 years. Bruce himself would do it 10 years hence, though he\rquote d rearrange it. So I knew I could pull it off. Yes, you \b can\b0 play \ldblquote Born to Run\rdblquote on an acoustic guitar. Well, as long as you can \b sing\b0 it. I wasn\rquote t as good at 13 as I would be at 33, but I could sing it.
I\rquote d always regretted not doing this--playing and singing in front of these people, many of whom had written me off as worthless. Well, part of it was I didn\rquote t realize how good I was until much later. I \b was\b0 pretty good at 13, especially with singing--hell, I won on a local TV talent show when I was \b six\b0 . My pubescent voice change--and my voice didn\rquote t really change all that much--didn\rquote t kill the talent. But I was inhibited and scared to really \lquote go for it\rquote when I was 13. I didn\rquote t have any confidence in my talent. That\rquote s what I could draw on, because of the recycling--I \b knew\b0 I was good. I just had to let go, lose my inhibitions, go for it--and since I was singing Bruce, I had to belt.
I belted. Jaws were hitting desks before I got halfway through the first verse. I just let it \b all\b0 out. And then I got gutsy.
While vamping the riff between the first verse and the second, I said, \ldblquote Hey I don\rquote t know anyone named Wendy . Should I change the name? What do you think? I should sing it to someone, change the name, huh?\rdblquote A few people yelled, \ldblquote Yeah, change the name!\rdblquote
I looked right at her. She didn\rquote t even see it coming. I sang it right to her. \ldblquote Kara, let me in, I wanna be your friend, I wanna guard your dreams and visions\'85\rdblquote I don\rquote t ever remember, in \b either\b0 life, seeing Kara Pocharsky blush. It was beautiful! And it deepened when I got to the line at the end of the middle part: \ldblquote I wanna die with you, Kara, on the streets tonight, in an everlasting kiss!\rdblquote
When I got done, three things happened. First, the class just \b erupted\b0 . Second, Kara blushed the color of cranberry juice--and grinned at me. And third, Mrs. Sinclair looked like she had eaten 43 lemons. Of course, I had to rub \b that\b0 one in--after putting my guitar back in its case, I grinned at her and said, \ldblquote Satisfied?\rdblquote She didn\rquote t look satisfied at all. Which made me \b very\b0 satisfied!
Walking out of class, Kara--still grinning and blushing--came up to me and said, quoting the song, \ldblquote Strap your hands cross my engines?\rdblquote
\ldblquote Hey, I didn\rquote t write the lyrics!\rdblquote I protested.
\ldblquote No, you just sang them to \b me\b0 . With \b my\b0 name in them!\rdblquote And then she walked away. Funny, she looked remarkably \b not\b0 upset about the whole thing!
So, that was Wednesday. What a great day. Thursday, I was eating with Stan and his gang. I was surprised to see Beth plop down next to me.
I hadn\rquote t seen a lot of Beth. It wasn\rquote t like I was avoiding her. Well, maybe it was, a little. It was still hard for me to deal with. I was still kind of feeling my way through things in my mind. But, on this day, she came and sat down with us for lunch.
\ldblquote Hey,\rdblquote she said, \ldblquote you don\rquote t mind, do you?\rdblquote
\ldblquote Of course not,\rdblquote I said. Stan and the gang nodded approval. \ldblquote You guys all know Beth?\rdblquote I made some quick introductions.
\ldblquote I had to come talk to you,\rdblquote she said, grinning. \ldblquote I heard about your little show in English yesterday. Good for you! I wish I had been there to see it.\rdblquote
\ldblquote It was something,\rdblquote Stan confirmed. \ldblquote You should\rquote ve seen it. When he ever changed the name in Born to Run from Wendy to Kara, I thought poor Kara was going to swallow her tongue.\rdblquote
Beth\rquote s eyes opened wide as she stared at me. \ldblquote Kara \b Pocharsky\b0 ?\rdblquote I nodded. Beth had known about my Kara fixation since it had started. \ldblquote You \b sang\b0 to Kara Pocharsky?\rdblquote I nodded again, grinning. \ldblquote WAY TO GO!\rdblquote she enthused. Then she turned to the gang. \ldblquote I\rquote ve known this guy since he was born. The only girl he\rquote s not scared to death of is \b me\b0 , and that\rquote s because I\rquote m like his sister.\rdblquote She turned back to me. \ldblquote I \b still\b0 can\rquote t believe you sang to Kara Pocharsky.\rdblquote
\ldblquote Believe it,\rdblquote I said. \ldblquote It\rquote s a whole new leaf.\rdblquote
\ldblquote Now \b that\b0 is good news,\rdblquote Beth grinned. Beth\rquote s appearance at lunch made me feel a lot better. She was being Beffy, my best friend--it was good to see. I had to enjoy this for as long as I could. We laughed and joked through the rest of lunch, Stan throwing in his two cents. Beth made a joke about me never singing to \b her\b0 . I told her that the only \ldblquote Beth\rdblquote I knew was the Kiss one, and I hated that song.
\ldblquote So write me one, Mister Musician,\rdblquote she grinned.
So, can a week like that get any better? Yeah, as it turns out. Friday, in the long run, turned out to be the best day of the week.
I was walking from one class to another, and I was in an area of the school that didn\rquote t get much traffic. It was the end of a hallway, with stairs leading down to the bottom floor. There were only a few classrooms down on that bottom floor. It only covered one wing of the school, since the school was on a hill, and there was another staircase to get there that was used more. Because of where I was, these were the stairs I took, but there weren\rquote t usually too many people around.
One of the people I sometimes saw was Kelly Cullinane. Usually from behind, as she usually beat me to the staircase. She did on this day as well, but she wasn\rquote t going down the stairs. She was still on the top, at the end of the hall--with three of the nastier bullies of the school. Yeah, these three were pieces of work.
They were taunting her--about her back brace. Calling her Quasimodo, asking how long it took for her boyfriend to get the brace off before he could fuck her--she didn\rquote t even have a boyfriend at the time--making all kinds of hunchback motions. \ldblquote Here comes the cripple!\rdblquote Real pleasant stuff. Poor Kelly looked like she was about to cry.
Did this happen the first time around? I searched my memories. Yes, it did--but I had shoved the memory aside. Why? Because, the first time around, I just kept walking. And it shamed me--Kelly Cullinane was one of the rare few that had \b never\b0 been anything but nice to me. She was, and still is, one of the nicest people I\rquote ve ever met. If anyone \b didn\rquote t\b0 deserve this kind of treatment, it was Kelly. But I had just kept walking, because--do I even have to say it?--I was scared.
Not this time.
I walked past Kelly, right up to the ringleader, and said, \ldblquote Hey! Shut the fuck up!\rdblquote Luckily, I managed to modulate my voice so I didn\rquote t give off that pubescent squeak. I hated that fucking squeak. This would be a bad time for it.
\ldblquote What are you going to do about it?\rdblquote the asshole sneered. He was leaning up against a railing. Over the railing was a drop to the bottom of the steps at the ground floor.
So, of course, I said, \ldblquote I\rquote ll throw you over the fucking railing, you asshole!\rdblquote He \b gaped\b0 at me--and his two buddies in crime were slowly moving away to extricate themselves from the situation. \ldblquote You have nothing better to do than pick on the nicest girl in school just because she\rquote s got a bad back?\rdblquote
\ldblquote Look at this!\rdblquote he laughed. \ldblquote The school wimp threatening me!\rdblquote
\ldblquote Come on, asshole. I\rquote m the school wimp? Take your best shot.\rdblquote Jesus, was I \b pissed\b0 . At him--and at myself, for not doing this thirty years before. He didn\rquote t know what he was dealing with. \ldblquote Come on, do it! I\rquote m surprised you didn\rquote t hit \b Kelly\b0 , just to show what a big he-man you are. You can hit me, and we\rquote ll see what you\rquote re made of.\rdblquote
He slinked away. \ldblquote Bovilas, you\rquote re not worth it!\rdblquote The motherfucker backed down! Typical bully--a coward at heart. They picked on the weak. That might have been me the first go-round. It wasn\rquote t me now.
I have NEVER--not in either life--felt as good about myself as I did at that moment. That one moment made the whole recycling worth it. It was the most amazing thing. I felt like I had wiped out \b so\b0 much pain and self-loathing, with just that one act. Standing up for myself, with Roger, was one thing. Standing up for someone \b else-\b0 -someone I liked and considered a friend? That was something else entirely. It felt so damn good.
When I turned around, Kelly was looking at me like I was an alien that had just stepped out of a spaceship. Hell, I couldn\rquote t blame her. She\rquote d known Ed Bovilas since first grade. She\rquote d never seen \b that\b0 Ed Bovilas.
\ldblquote C\rquote mon, Kel, let\rquote s get you to class,\rdblquote I said. I grabbed her by the arm, and steered her towards the stairs. We walked down the stairs, her looking at me the whole while like I had four heads. We got to the bottom, and headed for the row of classrooms. Hers was right across the hall from mine.
\ldblquote You OK?\rdblquote I asked her as we got there.
\ldblquote Yes. I\rquote m fine.\rdblquote Then she smiled at me--and kissed my cheek! \ldblquote Thank you,\rdblquote she said--and disappeared into her classroom. I pretty much floated into mine.
I\rquote d learned my lesson about talking. I didn\rquote t say a \b word\b0 about what had happened, to anyone. Well, I told my parents, who were proud of me. But I didn\rquote t say a word to anyone in school. The bully didn\rquote t need to be humiliated, that\rquote d just make him carry a grudge.
As it turns out, I didn\rquote t need to tell anyone. Kelly did. Not too many people, but the important ones. Her twin brother Patrick came up to me the next Monday. Patrick and I had an uneasy relationship. We\rquote d been friends throughout grammar school, until fifth grade, when we got into a fight. We\rquote d been more-or-less friendly after that, but there was a certain distance. It was one of those unfathomable things--why \b did\b0 people eventually turn on me? It had happened repeatedly in my first go-round. I didn\rquote t get it.
This time, however, Patrick came up to me in school. \ldblquote Hey,\rdblquote he said. \ldblquote Thanks for what you did for my sister on Friday. That took a lot of guts.\rdblquote
That was nice. What was nicer, however, was something that I wouldn\rquote t find out right away. But I\rquote d learn, later, that there was one other person Kelly had told: Kara.
\b JANUARY 24\super th\nosupersub , 1978
\b0 The events of that week had given me a major, major boost. I felt like I was in control. Well, not completely--there was still Beth--but, more than I had the first time.
And, on this date, I made a decision.
We had gotten The Letter that I had gotten the last time--the one telling me that I was a finalist for a scholarship to go to the Prep. The first time, I had been thrilled. I went through the interview process and then got the scholarship--a full ride. My parents were pleased as punch.
And, here I was, in this go-round, telling them I didn\rquote t want to go to the Prep.
I had thought a lot about it. Unfortunately, I couldn\rquote t really explain some of it to Mom and Dad without revealing the truth.
Look, I\rquote d enjoyed my time at the Prep. In hindsight, though, I wasn\rquote t sure if it really did me any good. I went there for two reasons--because I was bored--academically, I mean--and because I was getting beaten up. The second wasn\rquote t as bad this time around, because of the changes I had made. And the first?
Well, I wasn\rquote t \b bored\b0 at the Prep--but I still never learned how to study. I didn\rquote t get straight A\rquote s without cracking a book, like I did in grades one through eight--but I graduated the Prep with a 3.3 without cracking a book. I never did learn how to study, which killed me in college. The Prep wasn\rquote t going to teach me how to study, I knew that. If I was going to get some study skills, it was all down to \b me\b0 , no matter where I went to high school. And Cabot High wasn\rquote t bad--there were honors and AP classes I\rquote d be able to take there. I\rquote d have to endure one more year at Cabot East JHS, but then I\rquote d go to Cabot High for tenth grade. So, hindsight told me that the academic benefits of the Prep weren\rquote t really going to do much for me in the long run.
That\rquote s what I couldn\rquote t tell my parents, since that was all experience talking. What I \b could\b0 tell them was the other reason; which was partly from experience but I could pass it off as intuition.
I was smart enough to handle the academics \b anywhere\b0 as long as I learned how to study. However, going to the Prep would stunt me socially--it did, the first time around. I didn\rquote t really realize it until later in life, but it did. College was a nightmare socially. I never \lquote grew up\rquote and learned to deal with the \lquote real world\rquote , because the Prep was filled with guys like me: insecure social-misfit nerds with brains too big for their own good. I got along fine there, but it was too insular.
Since the Prep was all-male, it \b really\b0 stunted me in dealing with girls and women. That \b really\b0 caused a problem in college. I was so hopeless at reading \lquote signals\rquote from women that I let slip through my fingers many opportunities in college. I didn\rquote t realize any of this until much later in life, when I got better at certain things.
I managed to explain this to my parents without telling them I\rquote d been down this road before. They weren\rquote t happy, but they did accept the \lquote socially stunted\rquote argument. And Dad was sympathetic to the \lquote no girls\rquote argument, at least! As I said, they weren\rquote t thrilled, but they also weren\rquote t the type of parents to force me into a decision like this one. I\rquote d skip the Prep this time around.
So, I\rquote d made another monumental change from the pattern. It\rquote d take time to see how this one worked out.
\b JANUARY 30\super th, \nosupersub 1978
\b0
This was the day I decided to bite the bullet.
I\rquote d been thinking about doing it anyway, but a conversation with Kelly the previous Friday really convinced me to go for it.
One thing that had happened after my \lquote defense\rquote of Kelly is that she had started waiting for me at the top of that staircase every day. We\rquote d walk down together, chatting.
On that day, Friday the 27\super th\nosupersub , she said something interesting. \ldblquote You know Kara broke up with Don Nixon, right?\rdblquote
\ldblquote Yeah,\rdblquote I said.
\ldblquote So, what are you going to do about it?\rdblquote she grinned. I just looked at her. \ldblquote Come on, Eddie, don\rquote t try and fool me. You like Kara, still.\rdblquote
I looked at her. Shit, Kelly was Kara\rquote s best friend! \ldblquote Wait a minute, Kel--are you telling me that I \b won\rquote t\b0 get shot down?\rdblquote
\ldblquote I don\rquote t know,\rdblquote Kelly said seriously. \ldblquote I know the way she feels about you has changed. You annoyed her for a long time. You don\rquote t, anymore. Some of the things you\rquote ve done lately--well, she\rquote s impressed.\rdblquote
\ldblquote That\rquote s good, and I\rquote m glad I don\rquote t annoy her,\rdblquote I laughed, \ldblquote but you don\rquote t know if she\rquote ll go out with me.\rdblquote
\ldblquote No,\rdblquote she said, and sighed. \ldblquote I hope you get her to say yes, though.\rdblquote I just looked at her. \ldblquote Eddie, listen. Don Nixon? Turned out to be a big fat jerk.\rdblquote
\ldblquote Really?\rdblquote I said, surprised--I hadn\rquote t known this from the first time.
\ldblquote Really,\rdblquote Kelly confirmed. \ldblquote Kara was \b so\b0 in love with him, for all of last year. Then, this year, he asks her out. She\rquote s happy, right? Well, it didn\rquote t work out good. Don\rquote s got no respect for girls.\rdblquote
\ldblquote Oh,\rdblquote I said, quietly fuming.
\ldblquote Kara\rquote s been sad about it for a while. She needs a \b nice\b0 guy.\rdblquote Kelly grinned at me. \ldblquote That, pal, would be \b you\b0 .\rdblquote
I let that one ring in my head for the weekend. Monday I got on the bus, having decided to give it a shot. Luckily, the bus was early, so there was time to kill before the bell rang. I went over to Kara--who was with Kelly, who gave me a grin and a wink--and asked if I could talk to her. We walked over into a corner.
Be cool. Don\rquote t stutter. Forget you\rquote re 13 and this is the girl you\rquote ve been besotted with for 2 years. That\rquote s what I told myself. I think I almost pulled it off. Asking her in person was an improvement. I\rquote d done it over the phone the first time, but I had to be cool.
\ldblquote Kara, I was wondering,\rdblquote I said easily, \ldblquote would you like to go out with me on Saturday? I thought we could hit a movie.\rdblquote
Kara looked conflicted. It looked like I was going to get shot down again. \ldblquote Well, Eddie, uhm\'85\rdblquote she stammered.
\ldblquote Wait,\rdblquote I said. Dammit, this was my last shot. \ldblquote Before you answer me, let me say something.\rdblquote She looked at me expectantly. \ldblquote I just want the chance to spend some time with you, get to know you better. One date, that\rquote s all I ask, especially since you don\rquote t know \b me\b0 at \b all\b0 .\rdblquote
She laughed. \ldblquote I\rquote ve known you since kindergarten!\rdblquote
\ldblquote You know me here, in school. I\rquote m not at my best here. I\rquote m not at my best in crowds. I\rquote m just asking for one date where we spend it one-on-one. We\rquote ve never done that--except for the few times you and Kelly have caught me out running. That\rquote s as close as we\rquote ve gotten, and we\rquote ve gotten along fine those times.\rdblquote She still looked skeptical, but less so, so I pressed on. \ldblquote Kara, I\rquote m not a jerk. I\rquote m not going to hurt you. If you go out with me, all you\rquote ve got to lose is a few hours. And, heck, the movie might be good anyway.\rdblquote
She giggled at that, took a breath, and said, \ldblquote Okay.\rdblquote
I did \b not\b0 do a jig right there in front of her. I resisted.
\ldblquote We\rquote ll have to go in the afternoon, though,\rdblquote she said. \ldblquote My parents are strict about movie dates at night. Parties and dances are fine, but movies have to be in the afternoon.\rdblquote
\ldblquote That\rquote s fine,\rdblquote I said.
\ldblquote And, that way, we can walk, instead of waiting for a ride,\rdblquote she said, and then she thought, \ldblquote Oh, wait a minute--it\rquote s a lot farther for you, isn\rquote t it?\rdblquote She lived about halfway between my house and the shopping center--which is where the movie theater was.
\ldblquote Yeah, but that\rquote s fine. Running man, right?\rdblquote She giggled at that. \ldblquote I just won\rquote t run Saturday, I\rquote ll walk with you to the movies instead. Noon sound good?\rdblquote
\ldblquote Great. See you then,\rdblquote she said and walked into the building.
I wanted to SCREAM! I didn\rquote t. But I think I had a stupid shit-eating grin on my face for most of the morning.
Three class periods later, Kelly was waiting for me as I approached the staircase. She had a big grin on her own face. \ldblquote Saw Kara this morning,\rdblquote she said.
\ldblquote Really?\rdblquote
\ldblquote Yup. Congratulations. Don\rquote t screw it up!\rdblquote
\ldblquote Don\rquote t plan to,\rdblquote I smiled at her.
\b FEBRUARY 4\super th\nosupersub , 1978
\b0 It really didn\rquote t matter if I were 13 or 43. Walking to Kara\rquote s house for our date, I was \b damn\b0 nervous. Luckily, I had plenty of money. I didn\rquote t always--a paper route didn\rquote t pay much, and I was trying to build up my record collection. However, Dad had taken my advice about the Super Bowl and had put down some money on the Cowboys. He split the winnings with me.
I got there and her mom invited me in. I\rquote d met Mrs. Pocharsky a number of times. She was a nice lady.
\ldblquote Come on in, Eddie,\rdblquote she said, \ldblquote Kara will be down in a minute. So, tell me,\rdblquote she grinned at me. \ldblquote How, exactly, did you pull this off?\rdblquote
\ldblquote I have no idea,\rdblquote I smiled.
\ldblquote She\rquote s actually looking forward to going out with you. I was stunned! I\rquote ve known about your crush on her the whole time--she used to \b complain\b0 about it! And now she\rquote s going out with you?\rdblquote
\ldblquote Well,\rdblquote I told her, \ldblquote I\rquote ve made some changes. I guess Kara noticed.\rdblquote
\ldblquote I\rquote d say so!\rdblquote Just then, Kara came downstairs, so I was saved from further episodes of the Spanish Inquisition. She came down all ready to go--including outerwear. It \b was\b0 February, and though it wasn\rquote t a frigid day, it was rather cold. Kara was wearing a white down jacket, with a pink scarf around her neck and white fur earmuffs. She was so damn adorable!
I wanted to gush but kept it mild. \ldblquote You wearing earmuffs is the cutest thing I\rquote ve ever seen,\rdblquote I said. She beamed at me. We headed out.
\ldblquote So, what are we going to see?\rdblquote she asked as we walked down the street.
\ldblquote I figured we could see The Goodbye Girl. It\rquote s supposed to be good.\rdblquote In fact, it was one of my favorite movies. That was one of the problems with being recycled--nothing was new. This one I wouldn\rquote t mind seeing again, though--I\rquote d seen it a number of times. \ldblquote It\rquote s a romantic comedy.\rdblquote
\ldblquote A romance?\rdblquote she giggled. \ldblquote A \b guy\b0 picked a \b romance\b0 ? I figured I\rquote d have to sit through a \b boy\b0 movie!\rdblquote
\ldblquote I like romantic comedies,\rdblquote I told her, which was the truth.
\ldblquote One surprise after another,\rdblquote she laughed. \ldblquote Eddie, you have changed \b so\b0 much, I\rquote m amazed.\rdblquote
\ldblquote Not that much,\rdblquote I told her. \ldblquote Just, hopefully, the bad parts.\rdblquote She giggled at that. \ldblquote Is that why you actually decided to say yes?\rdblquote
\ldblquote Yeah,\rdblquote she admitted. \ldblquote Plus, well, look--I always liked you, but I also felt sorry for you. And I couldn\rquote t go out with someone that I felt sorry for. Plus, you were annoying once you decided you liked me.\rdblquote
\ldblquote I know,\rdblquote I laughed.
\ldblquote You do?\rdblquote
\ldblquote Of course.\rdblquote
\ldblquote You really \b have\b0 changed,\rdblquote she said in a low voice. \ldblquote Anyhow, you stopped being annoying a couple months ago. I still felt sorry for you, though. Then you sang in English class. I think that\rquote s when I stopped feeling sorry for you.
\ldblquote Then you stuck up for Kelly. When she told me that, I didn\rquote t believe her at first, you know. That impressed me \b so\b0 much.\rdblquote
\ldblquote Kelly\rquote s a good person. She doesn\rquote t deserve that kind of crap,\rdblquote I said. \ldblquote It\rquote s not her fault she has scoliosis.\rdblquote
\ldblquote That\rquote s what I mean,\rdblquote she said, but didn\rquote t explain. Then she changed the subject. \ldblquote So, what happened with Cyndi Gagnon?\rdblquote I told her the whole story. She cracked up laughing. \ldblquote No kissing until sixteen? Jeez. Now \b that\rquote s\b0 a prude. I mean, I kissed Mark Adamopoulos in sixth grade.\rdblquote
\ldblquote I did \b not\b0 need to know that,\rdblquote I said, but was laughing when I said it.
\ldblquote Sorry,\rdblquote she said, shrugging, with a grin. Then her voice dropped. \ldblquote I did more than kiss with Don. Which was a big fat mistake.\rdblquote
\ldblquote What happened with him? You were as gaga over him as I was over \b you\b0 .\rdblquote
She laughed, then sobered. \ldblquote Don, well, he wasn\rquote t what I thought. First of all, he\rquote s all hands, know what I mean?\rdblquote
\ldblquote Yeah.\rdblquote
\ldblquote I\rquote m no prude, but there\rquote s limits. I mean, I\rquote m only 13. He didn\rquote t care about them. Cyndi thought \b you\b0 were going too fast? I should throw Don at her. She doesn\rquote t know what \lquote too fast\rquote means. And, second of all, Don basically expected me to be a, I don\rquote t know, a slave or something.\rdblquote
\ldblquote YOU?\rdblquote I blurted out.
She beamed at me. \ldblquote I know. But, like you said, I was gaga. I probably let it go on longer than I should have. People do stupid things when they think they\rquote re in love.\rdblquote
\ldblquote No, really?\rdblquote I said, completely deadpan. \ldblquote I never would have known that.\rdblquote
She cracked up laughing, then she sobered. \ldblquote Anyhow, he expected to make all the decisions. We did what he wanted. Period. I had no say. And it got worse. Don, basically, has no respect for girls.\rdblquote
\ldblquote So, what you\rquote re telling me is that he took complete advantage of the fact that you were crazy about him.\rdblquote
She looked at me. \ldblquote That\rquote s it! That\rquote s exactly right--that\rquote s just what he did. I never thought of it quite like that before, but that\rquote s it.\rdblquote
\ldblquote He didn\rquote t have to work at it,\rdblquote I added.
\ldblquote Right.\rdblquote
I looked at her. \ldblquote Well, you\rquote re better off then. Because \b I\b0 have to work at it.\rdblquote
She cracked up laughing. \ldblquote That\rquote s right, you do, don\rquote t you?\rdblquote
\ldblquote Yup.\rdblquote
\ldblquote You\rquote re going to have to \b woo\b0 me.\rdblquote
\ldblquote Something like that.\rdblquote
She was still giggling. \ldblquote Oh, this could be fun, couldn\rquote t it?\rdblquote
I shook my head at her. \ldblquote You are enjoying this \b way\b0 too much.\rdblquote
She laughed once more, then just looked at me. \ldblquote I was \b always\b0 flattered. I just couldn\rquote t see it. Until lately. Actually, I thought you might have changed your mind. You\rquote ve been so different around me. You talk to me like a normal person. And singing to me--that shocked me.\rdblquote
\ldblquote Like I said, I decided to make some changes. I figured out--finally--that acting like a stupid lovesick stammering fool around you wasn\rquote t going to get me anywhere.\rdblquote
Kara was always wise and perceptive for her age, and she proved it then. \ldblquote How much of this has to do with Beth?\rdblquote she asked softly.
\ldblquote Some of it.\rdblquote That was the truth, though, in the \lquote old\rquote life, it had happened much later than this. I went on. \ldblquote It\rquote s two things, really. The first is--life is too damn short.\rdblquote
\ldblquote Yeah,\rdblquote she agreed sadly.
\ldblquote The second is this--my problem has always been fear. I\rquote m scared of my own shadow. And my best friend is \b dying\b0 . What the heck do \b I\b0 have to be scared about? That I might get beat up? That you might say no? Beth\rquote s illness made me think about a lot of that.
\ldblquote So, it was both things. The whole life\rquote s too short thing. Plus, things change, sometimes in a hurry. You\rquote re going to Andrews in September. I assume you\rquote re going to board there.\rdblquote
\ldblquote Most likely,\rdblquote she said.
\ldblquote So, that\rquote s eight months from now. If things went on the way they were, you\rquote d go to Andrews and I\rquote d never see you again.\rdblquote Which is exactly what happened in the old life. \ldblquote So, as Elvis once sang, It\rquote s Now Or Never.\rdblquote She giggled at that. \ldblquote And I realized that I had nothing to be scared about. I like you--I should be able to \b talk\b0 to you, shouldn\rquote t I? And if you said no, you said no. I\rquote d be back to square one.\rdblquote
\ldblquote I\rquote m impressed,\rdblquote she said. \ldblquote And I\rquote m glad. Like I said, I always liked you--the guy behind the stammering nerd, I mean,\rdblquote she giggled. I laughed back. \ldblquote So, what would you have done if I had said no.\rdblquote
\ldblquote Move on to the next target,\rdblquote I said with an evil grin.
\ldblquote Which would\rquote ve been\'85?\rdblquote she asked.
\ldblquote I\rquote m not tellin\rquote .\rdblquote
\ldblquote Come on,\rdblquote she said, grabbing my arm and tugging. \ldblquote Fess up. I know I\rquote m first choice, so it won\rquote t bother me.\rdblquote
\ldblquote You know you\rquote re first choice, huh? Damn, this is going \b straight\b0 to your head,\rdblquote I teased.
She looked at me. \ldblquote Jeez, Eddie, I though for sure I\rquote d get the stammering fool with \b that\b0 comment.\rdblquote
\ldblquote I told you, he\rquote s been banished. And you \b are\b0 first choice, I\rquote ve never made a secret of it, so who cares?\rdblquote
She looked at me, and then smiled. \ldblquote OK, fine, but you still haven\rquote t told me who second choice would\rquote ve been if I\rquote d shot you down.\rdblquote
\ldblquote Fine, fine. Kelly. You satisfied?\rdblquote
\ldblquote Well, I\rquote m going to just have to make you stick around then,\rdblquote she grinned. Damn did \b that\b0 sound good! \ldblquote Because, I can tell you, Kelly would say yes in a heartbeat.\rdblquote
\ldblquote She would, would she? Hmmm,\rdblquote I jokingly mused.
\ldblquote Nope, none of that!\rdblquote she burst out. \ldblquote No options for you! I\rquote ve been promised a good wooing and I\rquote d better get it!\rdblquote
\ldblquote Yes, ma\rquote am,\rdblquote I said. That cracked her up again.
By that time, we\rquote d gotten to the movie theater. I bought the tickets--and drinks and popcorn, of course--and we settled in.
As I said, I\rquote d seen The Goodbye Girl plenty of times, and had always liked it. It was strange, though, it was kind of like seeing it for the first time. There were days when this whole recycling thing made me feel schizophrenic. Part of me had seen it twenty times, but the other part of me had never seen it.
Of course, part of that was Kara. She \b had\b0 never seen it, and was plainly enjoying it. We finished the popcorn, and I tucked the container under my seat. The next thing I knew, her hand was resting lightly on mine.
How \b good\b0 could this be going? Jesus, what a turnaround!
The movie ended, and she told me how much she had enjoyed it. We got out of our seats, and got back into our winter outerclothing in the lobby. Then we headed out. As we started walking, she reached over and took my hand. It wasn\rquote t exactly intimate, considering we were both wearing gloves, but it was still thrilling, especially as \b she\b0 had done it. I didn\rquote t plan to lay a hand on her--I didn\rquote t want to scare her off. She must\rquote ve realized that, and took the initiative.
We walked, easily chatting, about the movie and other things. She loved the movie, and was glad I had suggested it.
\ldblquote It\rquote s getting colder,\rdblquote she said at one point.
\ldblquote Well, then, strap your hands cross my engines,\rdblquote I joked. She looked at me and burst out laughing. Then she calmed down, but was still smiling.
\ldblquote I can\rquote t get over you,\rdblquote she said. \ldblquote You\rquote re so \b relaxed\b0 ! Even after you asked me out, I thought you\rquote d be all nervous going out with me.\rdblquote
\ldblquote I\rquote m hiding it well,\rdblquote I told her, which was the truth. She grinned at me. \ldblquote Look, this was all I expected, OK? I got a date with you. That was the height of my wish list, so to speak. I was determined that we \b both\b0 have a good time. If this was it, then this was it. If I thought about a second date, or anything else, I\rquote d drive myself crazy.\rdblquote
\ldblquote You don\rquote t have to worry about that,\rdblquote she said, softly but firmly. Damn, did that mean what it sounded like? Before I had a chance to say anything, she changed the subject. \ldblquote Ed? I have to tell you something. I told Kelly I was going out with you, but, well, nobody else. OK?\rdblquote
\ldblquote Oh,\rdblquote I said. \ldblquote I see. Some people are going to think you\rquote re out of your mind, is that it?\rdblquote
\ldblquote More or less,\rdblquote she said, laughing gently. \ldblquote Well, you know, it\rquote s difficult. And you\rquote re right, I don\rquote t really know you. Well, I know you better, now. But, well, other people--they \b really\b0 don\rquote t know you.\rdblquote She sighed. \ldblquote I know if we start dating, we\rquote ll have to tell people eventually--not to wouldn\rquote t be fair.\rdblquote
I couldn\rquote t let \b that\b0 one go by! \ldblquote If we start dating?\rdblquote I asked.
\ldblquote Well,\rdblquote she grinned, \ldblquote you have to ask me on another date first.\rdblquote
\ldblquote Will you go out with me next weekend?\rdblquote
\ldblquote Absolutely,\rdblquote she said, still giggling. \ldblquote Look, Ed--I always thought you were nice, and sweet, and smart. It was just the whole annoying nerd thing that put me off. Without that, you\rquote re a great guy.\rdblquote
\ldblquote Well, I know my limitations,\rdblquote I told her. \ldblquote No need to add to them, which is why I made the annoying nerd go away.\rdblquote
\ldblquote Limitations?\rdblquote she asked.
\ldblquote I\rquote ll never be a heartthrob,\rdblquote I laughed.
\ldblquote Oh, you\rquote re cute,\rdblquote she said, smiling. \ldblquote Cute enough. And, let me tell you something--Kelly and I have talked about this. Your weightlifting has paid off,\rdblquote she said, and grabbed my bicep! \ldblquote Kelly and I were giggling about that the other day. Ed Bovilas has muscles!\rdblquote
\ldblquote Amazing, isn\rquote t it?\rdblquote I laughed.
\ldblquote Ed? Whatever you\rquote re doing, it\rquote s working, OK? I had a great time today.\rdblquote
\ldblquote I did, too,\rdblquote I told her.
We had gotten to the top of her street. Around the corner, and her house was the second one. She stopped there, before we went around the corner. \ldblquote Ed? My house is right there, and my mother will probably be looking out the window, so, if you want, I mean\'85.uh, well\'85.before we go around the corner\'85I mean\'85I\rquote m not Cyndi Gagnon, OK?\rdblquote
As shocked as I was at that stammering request, I wasn\rquote t stupid. I knew exactly what she was offering. I \b gladly\b0 took it. I put my arms around her waist, leaned down, and kissed her.
Can you say, \ldblquote beyond my wildest expectations\rdblquote ? I was just \b stunned\b0 . I hid it well and kissed the living daylights out of her, even though this wasn\rquote t a tongue kiss--I wasn\rquote t going to push \b that\b0 . When we finally separated, she was looking up at me with a whole new expression in her eyes. With a little sigh, she took my hand, and we walked around the corner to her house.
\ldblquote Eddie? I really did have a very good time.\rdblquote
\ldblquote The best,\rdblquote I agreed. She smiled at that.
\ldblquote You have my phone number?\rdblquote I nodded. \ldblquote Call me tomorrow.\rdblquote
\ldblquote OK,\rdblquote I happily agreed. Then she went in.
It was about a half-mile walk from her house to mine. My feet did \b not\b0 touch the ground!