This is a first story, and approaches being readable through the efforts and the gracious editing of Reverand Cotton Mather. For taking a few (I like to be a bit arrogant on occasion and won’t admit to how many really were there)  run on and on unpunctuated sentences, dangling propositions, and all the rest one can think of throwing in, making an editor wonder, how the writer managed to send it to them 

The improvements are due to this help, the remaining mistakes are mine.

The usual this story is mine, and I retain all rights to it applies. You can have a copy for your reading and being a bit arrogant, as expressed above. I like the thought that you enjoyed it enough, to do so. 

To those writers, far too numerous to mention, whose stories I have read and reread. Thanks for the hours of enjoyment you have provided, and the inspiration to try to return the favor.

A Moonlit Night by Roaminkysha

It was fall 1963, in the Tidewater area of Virginia a hodgepodge of cities, small towns, and major military and naval bases.  An area more associated with history of the Revolutionary War in the minds of people, rather than the modern area it was becoming. Historic sites and areas such as Colonial Williamsburg and Yorktown where General Cornwallis met his final defeat, or as some would say got his ass kicking. 

An area also rich in odd nicknames for their school’s athletic teams, like the Hampton High Crabbers, the Newport News SB&DD Co. Apprentice school Shipbuilders, and last but not least the Suffolk High Goobers (no not those kinds of goobers, the peanuts, you know the “sitting by the roadside on a summer day chatting with my messmates passing time away goodness how delicious eating goober peas” kind.). Just think how careful as a cheerleader you had to be with some of those names.  I mean give me an s, give me an h, or we are the goobers mighty, mighty goobers, well you get the idea.  These names though that reflected the one time economies of the towns they served.  Suffolk, is the home of Planters Peanuts, and even has a statue of Mr. Peanut.

Some where on the peninsula, in a small town on a crisp fall night in early November, we notice the stadium of the local high school filled with students, parents, and just plain town folk, here to follow their respective teams. The sounds of the marching band and cheers led by the spirited cheerleaders fill the night, the crisp autumn air, the glare of the stadium light’s, where the grass is a full, lush green, adding to the contrast with the chalk lines white.  

There in front of me was Chad Steele: star quarterback, Notre Dame recruit, poised to throw another dart down the field.   As I picked up the pace, I lowered my shoulder to deliver the hit sure to be the last of my football career.   The offensive lineman’s outstretched hand hit my ankle, and down I went.

Not just down, but humiliatingly down.   My facemask gouged through the pristine turf like a plow in the Nebraska prairie.   At least I didn’t get forty acres or yards, but it was enough.   As I rose and looked downfield, I saw the hands in the air, another touchdown.   The scoreboard flashed into the final minute, counting down into the fifties, with fewer and fewer seconds to go.

These memories accompanied me as I walked on the beach that night, leaving the end of the season party and good feelings behind.  Fresh Chesapeake crabs deviled delightfully provided the flavor while the beer provided the inebriation.  The kegs illegally, but graciously supplied by those who had played before us while we celebrated and honored the fine losing tradition, that they had helped establish, of football at our school.   

As I was leaving the end of season party and for me the end of three years of football, I reflected on the years and the work I had put into this.  I had finally had my chance for one satisfying play, one play that would at last satisfy me, even though it was in a meaning less game.  But once again the bench warmer and practice team star (in my dreams) tackle had missed again.  We had been playing the Suffolk High Goobers. Yeah the goobers, goobered us, usually they competed with us for the worst record in the league. 

This Year though, they had that one player that had made the difference, and drove them to the state championship.  Perhaps in my mind, but certainly in my dreams, I had wanted to be that player for our school.  Hell, it was simply a desire, I thought, to be something in my school.  Something besides the blob; yep, I had heard it all the time, the blob it creeps and weeps and slides and glides along the floor often enough in a sort of fun teasing way.  To them, it was fun and teasing.  To me, it was just cruel and insulting.

Walking alone heading south, the retaining walls to keep the beach erosion down marking my progress like the yard lines had never done, other than in my dreams.   The lovely blonde cheerleader of those dreams was never there to greet me as I crossed the goal line, either.   Humming a bit of the Kingston Trio’s “Tom Dooley”, interspersed with a bit of “Where Have All The Flowers Gone”, as I reflected on the year so far.

Like Casey, bench warmer Tom had struck out.

Lost in thoughts as to where the year was going and had gone, I realized I was closer to home than the party.  I noticed the light from the lighthouse chasing over the empty sea was even with my shoulder.   I cleverly decided to walk home, rather than go back for a ride.

Nearing home, I heard, rather than saw the crying figure out on the retaining wall.

Sitting on the sand, I wondered if it was just my imagination, or perhaps the echo of my thoughts, until I caught the movement out of the corner of my eye.   Focusing on the retaining wall, I barely got a glimpse of movement along the rocks.  Not sure if I might be intruding, I just sat and bided my time, wondering who else was sharing the loneliness of the night.   Suddenly, the figure rose.   It was definitely person, and not my own haunting spirit.  The splash rang out like a shot.  Spurred at least into looking closer, I walked to the other side of the wall.  Between the waves, I saw the person’s head rising and falling, heading into the emptiness of the black sea.  

Being a bit clever, I figured out that whoever it was had some odd thoughts of recreation.   The Chesapeake was not a good place for swimming in November, and the swimming was a bit on the futile side.   Here thanks to the retaining walls, the water was shallow for a good way out.   Not far from here, in fact, the captain of the Missouri, intent on entering the harbor at Norfolk with white foaming bows and clever maneuvers, had, at good speed, succeeded in ending his career as he ran aground off the army base at Fort Monroe.

Watching the struggling figure continuing to head out to sea, I decided to take off my clothes and wander out to see what was going on.   I thought they would at least be dry after the trek.   Part of the advantage of being big, as I neared where the figure was, I was still wading rather than trying to swim: a great benefit, as it turned out.

It seemed I was not the only one locked into deep concentration that night, as the figure stopped and turned as I started humming a bit (no not a sea chantey).  It was just a nameless tune, something to take my mind off how cold the water felt.   
 
I had thought, during the brief glimpse I had, that it was boy.  Boy, was I wrong.   That “just leave me the fuck alone” had a rather feminine ring to it.  She turned to me and, bouncing on the bottom tried, to turn back to the sea.   Clever me: while my grip had no chance at the game earlier, I made a clean grab of the back of the jacket she wore and pulled her back toward shore,   to a chorus of “let me go, bastard” and a few off references to me being a canine offspring.  I pulled until she could stand up.   Slowing here was a mistake, as she tried a bit of an assault on my chest with fists, as well as attacking my legs with a knee.   Fortune smiled on me, however, as she was too short, and in deep enough water, not to reach the target that surely (and sorely, I wince, at just the thought) would have stopped me.

Little fists, pulled down stocking cap and jacket, mad as a wet hen, and all that aside, I had no idea who it was, or what she was doing out here.  So I asked, and got a bit of "none of your damned business".   She could sure cuss like a sailor, even if she wasn’t one.

The waves broke, the wind picked up, and the cold started to penetrate her one tracked mind and she noticed something.  

"Why don’t you have any clothes on?"

Rather Bondishly I replied, "I didn't want to get them wet.  It is cold enough without walking around in wet clothes."

"You got that right," was her brief reply.  Followed by a giggle.

Thus a rather coherent conversation seemed possible

"Don’t you think you should get out of the water?"

"No.  I don’t want to at all, and if you hadn't stopped me, I wouldn’t have started getting cold"

Ah, female logic at work.  I stopped her, so now it is because of me she is cold.  Can you believe that?

"But I will," she said as a follow up, "because it is obvious you won’t let me drown myself." 

"Ah, great minds realize truth."  Such a snappy reply on my part.

As we got on the shore, she just kept walking toward the wood line, until she realized I had stopped and was trying to put on my clothes.  "Aren't you coming, Tom?" she asked.

Tom...  Tom! She knew my name and I had no idea who she was.  Weird.

I grabbed my clothes, and started following her through the trees.  There, on a dirt path, sat the Bowardmobile.  She had to be Tammy Boward, a gymnast at school, and a year behind me.  The ‘57 Chevy had belonged to her brother, who had gone to school out of state.  His car had a back seat that was a shrine among the high school guys.  An altar to high school dreams and to the numerous virgins said to have surrendered it there.  She had briefly dated an ex-friend of mine, the BMOC, class president etc, our star quarterback.  Not destined for big time college stardom, but rather to become a midshipman at the Naval Academy.  (He became, like so many other high school heroes, just an intramural football player.  We had, after all, lost that night, to the tune of 63 to nothing.)  They hadn't hit it off real well.  He said she wasn't into doing splits for him, and I figured out her side while she talked.

As she opened the door and started going through her purse, she told me to get in the back seat and hand her one of the blankets on the floor.  As she started the engine, taking off the knit cap and revealing the dark red hair in a pixie cut.  She took off her jacket and hung it over the steering wheel.  I took the other blanket and wrapped it around me.  Sitting on the passenger side she, draped her blanket over her shoulders, and it slowly dawned on me, as a bra emerged to be hung over the rear view mirror, she was undressing.  There was a real girl getting undressed in the car I was in, not four feet from me, and I couldn’t see a thing.
 
I mean real undressed, as a pair of panties had emerged to share the mirror with the bra.  She was naked under the blanket, a naked girl in the car with me (I had suddenly developed a one-track mind).  Fortunately she threw the switch before I ever got on the main line to run with it.  Tears, little tracks of water ran down her cheeks.

"Why were you there, Tom?" she asked.

So I explained my brief shining moment in the field of play.

She laughed, not a ha-ha kind of laugh, but the sardonic, empty, why does it happen to me kind, the kind of laugh that echoes in the soul.

"Why were you there?” I asked. 

And the trickle of the tears on her cheeks became a river.  She just leaned forward, put her head on her knees, and let it flow.  Reaching forward, I just held her hand and stroked the back of her neck and her shoulders, all I could reach while leaning on the back of the front seat of the car.

Finally she looked out the passenger’s window and said, “Cause I'm a freak.  I'm 5' 10'' and weigh 90 pounds and I’m 17.  My thirteen-year-old sister has bigger boobs than I do.  Every damn guy I date tells me that.  Some even want to get introduced to her.  Tonight during our game, Charlie told me that his hand had a better figure than I do.  I told him that was good because that’s all he was going to get, as far as I was concerned.  Your friend Steve even told me that if I had any boobs they were concave, and his brother looked more feminine than I did.  No, I'm not going to show you, so get that thought out of your head.” (Was she ever a mind reader!)  Then I saw a bit of a smile as she looked at me.

Now, I am not the one to be told that someone called them a freak.  That’s what I am, in a way.  I stand 6'4”, weigh 250, and it isn't all solid muscle.  My face had scars from a bad case of the zits.  That was one of the reasons I had started my walk tonight.  I was tired of being the star solo performer in the dance of love at the party.  My grades are okay, mostly A's and B's.  I would rather read a good book than go out and embarrass myself again, trying to catch a girl.  There had been too many bad experiences for that.

If it wasn't for Steve, a lot of girls would never have talked to me.  One girl even suggested a date, because we would double with Steve and his girlfriend.   When the current girlfriend got sick from something she ate that night, my "date" suggested Steve go with her someplace.  All I saw was the red of the taillights.  It was also the last night that I considered Steve a friend.  So I had a bit of experience with this.  She shut the engine off and turned the radio on, a small portable radio by the window.  A bit of Paul and Paula, hey hey Paul I want to marry you, hehehehehe (the true story of that duo was the story of my dates and me).  I think we were both thinking that, with a touch of a wistful smile.

Then, from somewhere, I said, "I don’t think you’re a freak".

She laughed a real laugh this time.  "It's because I’m naked in the car with you, and that’s why you don't.  You want to see the bod."

We just sat after that, talking about music and stuff till she said "I think we should get dressed and go home."  She just burst out laughing from the sound of it.  She laughed so much the blanket dropped from her grasp.

While she fumbled for it, I said, "Well they ain’t mountains, and they certainly aren't caves.  They are far more than ant hills, and they are beautiful and just right for you."

Tammy gave me a look that asked if I was daft or something.  But she didn’t race to cover them up, either.  She just looked at me and said, “You think so, really?"

I nodded, not thinking of anything else to say.

Then she surprised me and said, "If they are so pretty, why are you looking at my face?"

"The freckles," I said.  I couldn't bring myself to say that her eyes were so much nicer now when she was laughing, that they were beautiful windows to her soul.  That I would never tire from exploring.  When we first got in the car, they were so empty and flat, and now there was a spark there.

She gave the silent "Duh, what are you, a dummy?" look.

"No," I said "your freckles are like a path.  They seem to start between your breasts, and lead me right to your eyes."

She just got a faraway look, gazing past me into the air.  Those said silently, “See what I mean? Here I am, topless, and you look at my eyes.”  

"If it had been Kathy Saton here, you never would have looked up.  Any time I see her in the halls talking to guys, they seem more interested in the ground than her eyes, the way they look down." 

 "Why? She has nice gray eyes," I said.

Exasperated, she said, "You are probably the only guy that knows that".

"Sorry"

"It’s okay," she replied.

She reached to the mirror and got her bra.  She placed it around her, and put it on, and suddenly I knew why women had no trouble fumbling with the hook.  And one of the mysteries I had heard mentioned was answered.

She looked at me and said, "Well, aren't you going to get dressed, or do you plan on getting a cheap show?"

Embarrassed again, I slowly started putting on my clothes, and not watching the cheap show, as she had called it.  In fact, I was looking anywhere I could but toward her, in case she caught me.  

She then, in a softer voice, asked if I wanted to get up front and have a ride home.

Feeling a bit angry and shamed, I said, "I'll walk, thanks."

"Tom, please let me give you a ride."

"I’m not sure, Tammy.  If you give me a ride home, and I find that you drove back here, I would be really hurt.  I'd think you did it just because you thought all I, or any guy, wanted was a ‘cheap’ show, and that’s all you'd ever feel about me.”

She really got pissed with that, and let me know she hadn’t quite forgotten her toilet vocabulary, ending with, "Well, if it makes you feel better, I promise I'll give you a ride home, and we can have lunch tomorrow at Rascals.  A real promise... a promise between freaks."  Softening the last words with the hint of a smile and a direct look.

Reluctantly, I agreed, and took the ride.

Lying there that night, I did the natural thing and pounded the pud, with visions of the first real breasts I had seen.  After the need was met, I sat there and thought about the situation, and wondered about all that had happened that night.  I had never thought a girl could be hurt and feel empty like me before.  For some reason, I thought I was the only one that could be hurt, and I fell asleep with those thoughts.

(2)  

The Rascal was the inside hang-out, as opposed to the drive-in.  There one paraded while waiting for a parking spot, for all the kids to see the latest couples.

I got there earlier than we agreed, since I walked and didn't want to hurt her by being late.  My mom needed the car, and the pier was too far to walk to get my dad’s truck.  I left early and was looking at the paper when Tammy surprised me and said "Tom Jones’, if you’re looking for a movie for us to go to."

Two surprises: she was here, and she said a movie to go to.  What was wrong with my world? She wasn't going to run at the moment someone else smiled at her.  Somehow I knew it with certainty, and now I wasn't sure if I deserved it, because of my thoughts and actions when I got home this morning.  As these thoughts flashed to my mind, I started to get up to help her sit.  She just placed a hand on my shoulder and sat down next to me.

I got a shy, uncertain smile and a totally different Tammy than last night.  Widgeons, jeans, and a flashy sweater.  Bright was the look, and the eyes had a glow.  She took my hand on the table, gave it a squeeze.  "What are we going to have for lunch?"

Folding the paper and sitting there in shock: she was holding my other hand.  It was on the table, in the open for goodness’ sakes.  No girl other than my little sister had ever done that.  I stammered a second and mumbled something like the burger was good with the cheese fries.  This got me a strange look as she smiled at my discomfort, and asked if I needed water to get my tongue to work.  A definite glint in her eyes now.  All through lunch, she and I ate and didn't talk much, while my mind and heart debated if I was getting set up for yet another letdown.

As we finished eating, we talked of little things at first, and then into thoughts on school and what was going on in general.  Suddenly, she looked at her watch, and said "Oops, we'll have to wait for the evening show.  It’s to late to get to the theater for the matinee." she asked if I wanted to go for a drive while we waited.  

"I'd like to, but I don’t have a car."

"You don't need to drive. I have mine here." 

Right...first, guy teens with licenses don’t want to be seen with the girl driving.  Second, her car was so well known from her brother’s rumored exploits, that everyone would notice who was in as the passenger.   (Later Tammy was to point out that for all the girls rumored to have lost it in the car, her brother Rick would have needed to have at least three dates a night for four hundred days a year since he got his license.  Yet he had been going steady with Diane Baker, who was a senior and in some of my classes, since he was in the eighth grade.  Another myth of my youth destroyed and left in ashes.) The legend was due more to her other brother, James, and his friends.  She said they would do anyone, anytime, anywhere.  Irony abounds here, as James never drove the car, and was a divinity graduate.  (He now is a television evangelist who found more money than God in his calling, but it kept him from the draft.  The damage was that his younger brother, Rick, had been painted by this brush much of his high school life)

Reality had set in with the offer.  My family, while comfortable, was not able to provide cars for all.  Food on the table and a college education for his kids was what my dad thought was important while he dug and fought his way across Europe, on his only trip to a foreign country.  To hear him talk, there was more digging and cold than fighting.  Maybe the car would be available on Friday and Saturday night, but then only if I had a date.  With a silent resigned acceptance, I opened the driver’s door to let her in, and walked around the car, to find her sitting on the passenger side.  With a shy smile, she handed me the keys, and sat back with a laugh, saying, “Why would I want to drive when you can?” 

Stunned, I went around the car again and got in the driver’s side.  Before I started the car, I looked at her, and she simply said, "Rick said it was okay for you to drive." Funnier and funnier, thoughts went through my mind.  How did Rick in California know I was driving his car?

All she said was, “Let’s drive toward the James River and walk along the trail.”  It seems she was obsessed with water, but when you live on a peninsula it is a bit hard to avoid.  

She just said that she had gotten up early in the morning when the phone rang, and it was Rick.  While they talked, he told her that I could drive the car, if she trusted me enough to ride with me.

What she neglected to tell me, until much later, was when Rick called that morning (they had always talked while growing up, and she had felt lost without him to tell her troubles to) at the sound of his voice, she just let it out.  He had exploded when he heard what she had started to do the previous night.  Starting to lecture and cry with her and asked why finally she came to her senses.

She admitted she hadn't, and I had pulled her out.

He told her to get her ass out of bed and get it over to Diane’s house and talk to her.  He was calling her now, and she would call him when they were done talking, and he would fly home if Diane felt he needed to.   

Diane was crying when she got there, and just hugged her, and she just blurted out the whole story again.  

Diane started laughing toward the end, and told her.  "You say all the guys want to get you undressed and grab you, and here you talked to a guy till three in the morning, in the car, naked, and he held your hand, stroked your shoulders and neck.  Then blushed when your blanket fell (I thought she hadn't noticed) and you say you never can find a guy that doesn’t want just sex."

In her defense Tammy correctly said, "I did.  I just didn't have the chance."

Diane laughed even harder, and then told Tammy, how she had met Rick.  

It was the second day after she moved into town.  She had been at the beach swimming, and a wave had washed her top off while she was in the water.  All the guys around her had laughed at her and stared.  She had been an early developer, well endowed for her age, though bordering on the small side now.

Rick had been playing nearby, and had frantically started looking for her top when he saw the look of embarrassment mixed with shock on her face.  As she tried to get into deeper water to hide and gather her thoughts, a string of boys had blocked her way, and she had started quietly crying.  This only seemed to encourage the boys.  

Rick, seeing this, had run and grabbed his shirt and towel, and held the towel in front her after giving her his shirt.   When one of the bigger boys knocked the towel from his hands (it turned out to be James), a fight broke out, with Rick getting the worst of it.  Meanwhile, she had slipped away in his shirt, watching this daring young knight who had come to her defense.  

This explained something that Tammy had always wondered.  Why all of a sudden her brothers had stopped getting along and got where they wouldn't even speak to each other.

When Rick had escaped from the water and gotten his bike he was pushing it past the hot dog stand where she had fled.  She came out and started to walk with him.  They introduced themselves, and talked on the way to her house.  That’s when she found out that the big kid was his brother and a senior in high school (a pre-war baby, and why there was four years between them).  She asked Rick in, and gave him some lemonade.  They talked some more in the back yard.  When Rick had to go, she had calmly stood up and calmly handed the shirt back to him, while he just gawked at her breasts and stammered something.  She simply told him he was her hero, and that she loved him, and that he could see them anytime he wanted.  He had just blushed and started backing out of the backyard, when she ran after him with giggle and jiggle to give him a kiss, causing him to blush even more, but ending in their first hug.

The picture Tammy had created of an awkward brother started her sharing the laughter.  

Then Diane, holding her sides, said, "It isn't the getting, Tammy, that’s hard.  It’s finding that someone who cherishes the sharing and caring that’s important.  What do you plan on doing now, Tammy?  He sounds like a real possible one."

Tammy said she would meet me for lunch, and then she wasn't going to do anything special.  Probably just go home.

Diane told her that she should give it time, and then decide.  It’s a risk finding someone, but she shouldn’t just hide or try to avoid people.  “You two talked for three hours last night.  That says you have something in common, and that's a good place to start.”  

Tammy said, "Yeah a pair of freaks, that’s what we have in common"

"Where is it written that freaks can't be happy, Tammy?  You know that you are not a freak to a lot of people, starting with Rick and me, ending with Tom."

"Why Tom!"

"Tammy...Tammy...Tammy, you talked for three hours, you didn't neck, you didn't sit through a movie where you had to be quiet, you talked and it wasn’t in the best circumstances, and he cares about you.  You said he didn't want to ride with you till you agreed to meet him today.  That alone shows he cares.   If he thought you were a freak, he wouldn't have cared.  He could have just left when he found who it was.  You knew he cared, damn it, Tammy."

"What do you mean I knew he cared?"

"You got undressed with him in the car, made no secret of it to him, hanging your bra and the panties up to let them dry.  Did you think he would rape you or grab you?  No you didn't.  Either you didn't think at all...  or you knew he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.  Maybe, Tammy, it is because he has been hurt in the past.  Remember when we went out as a family before Rick left?  We saw Tom and Steve in the restaurant with Linda and Sue.  You saw Sue act sick to get away from Steve and his groping under the table.  Then, when Linda and Steve drove off, you told Rick and me that you could almost see tears in Tom’s eyes, the way he walked back to his car while we were talking.  No, damn it, Tammy...  you trusted him last night, and now you want to run and hide rather than find out if you can trust and love someone.

“Think, Tammy, I could have gone to my room that day and not shown my breasts to Rick, or kiss him like that, and hug him like that, but Tammy, I trusted him.  Just like you trusted Tom last night.  You just have to admit it to yourself, and not hide from the truth...  or you'll be taking advantage of him.

“Letting him help you when you were down and out and ready to quit, Tammy, but he doesn't matter, that’s what you would be saying to him.  Tom, I don't give a damn about the help you offered.  You let the world grind you down, because you won’t let yourself do what you want, but now you want to do what they want.  Think about it.  You know it’s true."

"Diane, it was only because he was there.  I didn't plan on him being there."

Constantly sobbing Diane went on.

"No....  that’s true, Tammy...  you were so ground down...  that you wanted the easy out...just quit on all of us.  You just didn't even care.  How would Rick feel today...  when I had to call him...  because your parents and Pammy are out of town...damn it Tammy ...how would I feel...you know you are the apple of Rick’s eye and I'm the holder of his heart...  How about your parents...  and Pammy?  Yes, I know you and Pammy are having a rough time now Tammy...  but they love you.  How would they have felt...when they got called at the National Center and find out what happened.   While they were there at...  Pammy's dance recital and audition for next years...  national junior ballet...to be so torn between the height of joy...at how well they were doing...as parents...and thrown into despair...  about how they failed you.  How would Tom have felt...if he found out that he walked by on the beach while you drowned yourself...  or if he thought had he been ten minutes earlier or later that it would have made a difference.  How would you feel if he did it, Tammy...and you were the one on the beach? Think, damn it.  Cant you see you may be a freak to yourself, but to me...you are my sister...Think...damn it Tammy...  use your head, damn it Tammy, we all love you."

Tammy and Diane started crying and hugging.

They calmed down and talked more.  Diane told her that whether Tammy liked it or not, they were sisters, and as soon as she and Rick could get married, without a doubt they would be.  Tammy should talk to her now like one.  That meant when she had problems, or just wanted to go shopping.  Because that’s the way it was, and just because she had spent most all her time with Rick, didn't mean she hadn't wanted to talk with her or spend time with her or Pammy.  It was just Rick was her man, her life, her joy.  She would even leave Rick’s side to talk with her if it was important to Tammy.  

Tammy said that sometimes she thought Diane had just grown from Rick’s side, they were so close so often.  (A lifetime friendship was started that day).

About quarter to twelve Rick called, worried because he hadn't heard from Diane.  When she heard the voice, Diane sparkled, according to Tammy, and excused herself and went in the other room for the "mushy stuff", and asked Tammy to get them a drink.  While Tammy was digging Cokes out, she said her ears were pounding all the time, not just buzzing.  After giving Diane her drink she went to the other room and sat there till Diane returned and handed her the phone.  
Rick just told her to take care of herself, and that Diane was him as far as their talks were concerned.  He expected to be able to talk to her most Saturday mornings when he called Diane.  Tom could drive the car if she trusted him.  He had only one request: that she call before she decided to be stupid, and for sure, on Monday night.  It was important to him.

(3)

We walked down the trail till around five, holding hands.   Tammy said we should head back.  When we got back, she waited on the passenger side for me to open the door for her.  We headed to a cafe for a quick bite, and went to the movie.  Funnier and funnier, I thought to myself.   Here was a girl with me for all but eight hours today, and she still seemed happy.  We really weren't lovey dovey, we were just friends talking and sharing a smile here or there.  She would admit, however, to getting a neck strain from trying to share my smile before we sat down and were almost even.  With a giggle, she grabbed my hand and put it around her shoulder, and held it there through the movie.  

After we left the movie, we just drove around for awhile, until she dared me to let her drive us through the drive-in, one time before she ran me home.  Thinking the night was almost over and knowing she was right, that I needed to go home, I didn't mind too much...Right, but I could grin and bear it.  There was little that hadn't been said about me before.  As expected the entry of the "Browardmobile" drew instant attention and sly laughs, as the specter of me riding in the passenger seat was noted and laughed at behind windshields.  If it was not known by then, it would be by the time the sun rose tomorrow.  Most in school would know of my trip around the drive-in.  When a space opened, Tammy pulled in, and we ordered some shakes and discussed the movie.  I jokingly told her we should order more and emulate the eating scene from the movie, and she just smiled and said, “You wish.”

After a half hour she wanted me to rub her shoulder.  She had strained it pulling into the parking place, and, handing me the keys, said I would have too take her home, as it was just soooooooo painful to drive.

The switch was also noted on the way out, in a final circle at her insistence.

When we got to her house, we sat outside, held hands, and talked till one, when I had to get up to walk home.  She surprised me, actually knocked me over with a feather when she gave me the keys to her car, telling me to pick her up at eleven for church.  At this time, church was not just church, it was a social event where most people shared time, went to be seen and talked to or talked about, as much as for the service.  This amounted to almost a community announcement that we were at least really good friends, with a larger intent.  When I asked if she was sure, she just smiled, lifted her sweater, and flashed her boobs before running inside.

Funnier and funnier.  What was going on in my mind now, instead of “Hang down your head Tom”?  I was hearing a song of her laughter tonight.  I parked her car in front of the house, and went in to find my Dad waiting there, even though I had called and let them know where I was through the day.  He wanted to say a few words to me.

He looked out and saw the car, and asked where it came from.  When I told him, he just looked strangely at me and said to go to bed.  We needed more than a few words.  Visiting Mrs. Palmer and her five daughters that night, with visions of Tammy laughing, she filled my mind and dreams; at least one dream in particular caused me to have to change shorts the next morning.

After the talk with my dad, where he emphasized a few points he had made earlier to me while mom was out of the room, he gave me a few rubbers, and told me to make damn sure I used them.  He then talked about responsibility to Tammy, and how I should at least clean the car out and wash it before I picked her up for church, and also in the future when I bring it home, which should be rarely.  (Emphasis on the rarely.)  It was almost like he felt affronted by it, which I guessed he might have, or perhaps he felt that I had become a "kept man." He also emphasized that while there at the church, since her family was out of town, the two of us should sit with our family.

 When I finished the cleaning, washing, and waxing I drove to pick up Tammy.  She opened the door dressed only in a half slip (no, the door wasn’t in the slip...now that is really weird).  She said with a smile that she needed help with the zipper.  I looked real carefully all over her, and even lifted the slip a bit, but sure didn't see a zipper.  When I told her that she just laughed, and ran up to get her dress, one did have a zipper for me to practice on being her loving servant.  Ah, so sometimes I was slow, or, more appropriately, lost in amazement with her antics.

When we got to the church, she held my hand and smiled as we walked in.  This meant, in the visual language of the church, we were more than friends, but not committed.  That cue was arms hooked, I think.  My family was on the left side of the church, near the back.  When my sister was one of the restless kids, we started sitting in the back.  Mom, because of the three kids she had lost between our births, liked to be near kids.  I think they were her favorite people in the world, the way she fawned on them, and volunteered to help at anything that provided kids to help.  Cub Scout den mother, then brownies and girl scouts, and classroom mom.  You name it.  Just say “kids need you”, and she was yours for any task.

We sat at the end of the pew, Tammy next to mom.  When Mom reached out during the service to hold Tammy’s hand, I think she really gripped it to make sure she was really there, and with me, silently thanking god when we looked upwards during the prayer.  I was sure she was glad to have two feminine hands holding hers, as my dad and I were the bookends in the pew.  As we walked out through the congregation, we were greeted with side-glances and a few smiles.  Diane came up to us, and hugged Tammy.  She then smiled, squeezing my hand and whispered thanks.  When I found out later about the talk they had, I think I was the one that should have said thanks for giving me a wonderful life.  But being fat, dumb and happy that day, I just smiled and said nothing.

We went to our house after the service.  No protest of Tammy would thwart a mom on a mission.  All mom would say was that there is no one home at Tammy’s house, and she needed a good dinner on Sunday.  As if there was no alternative to dinner at all.  Me, I had lots of alternatives for a house with no family there, and new condoms in the wallet (I was really a big dreamer then), so it was dinner and watching the NFL on the television in vivid black and white.

We did not then acknowledge there was a league other than the NFL, let alone that upstart AFL with that Al Davis guy as the commissioner.  For that matter, there was no team but Green Bay.  We lived in a small town where everyone else was a Redskins’ fan, as they were the closest to a home team we had.  But not dad.  He admired success, and was born in Eau Claire, Wisconsin.  My mom always says that after the war, he knew he didn't want to farm, so he settled here working the tugs and barges with her dad.  My dad says he met mom and refused to leave till she would agree to go and meet his folks.

Under the eyes of parents, there was little to do but hold hands.  When I tried to put my arm around Tammy during the game, mom said only "Janie's here." (Talk about dictatorial power. Sheesh).  At three, we made an escape and drove to her house.  As we were pulling in to the drive, her dad came out of the garage and greeted me with a strange look.  She took me in and showed me off to her mom, as she put it.  Her dad came in, and I ended up watching the end of the football game with him, in silence as he kept glancing at me.  There was little opportunity presented for any exercising a bit of fooling around theory and application, so we sat and held hands on the couch.  

Getting ready to leave with Tammy to drive me home, a vision of loveliness and youth glided up the drive way.  Pammy was a dancer (and what a dancer, as those who saw her over many years with the New York City Ballet will attest).  I never saw her walk; she glided.  I noticed Tammy giving me a worried look as we saw her, and I held her hand tighter and pulled her closer to reassure her that she was the only Boward I was interested in.  She introduced me to Pammy and urged her to go into the house so we could escape.  No sooner had she started for the door than their mom commanded that Pammy ride with us to keep Tammy company on that long ride home.

I didn't know at the time how troubled Tammy and Pammy's relationship had become.  I think her mom thought that if she just forced them together, they would have to get along better.  But being placed with Pammy, given the reaction she had seen to often from the boys she dated, did not comfort Tammy, with all her self-doubt.  Remembering this from out of the River of tears, I made sure I held Tammy’s hand all the time, except when she was actually driving.  Pammy gave her a further shock when we got to my house, by getting out of the car and telling Tammy she had a few minutes for that "mushy stuff" Mom told her about (and hopefully not to report on).  Damn it, none of the mushy stuff happened as Tammy just hugged me, and her eyes started to tear up, so I just held her and thanked God I had been there on the beach Friday night.  What an eventful weekend it had become.

No laughter, no flash, but damn I was glad, anyway.  Something good was happening to me at last.  (I later found out that Tammy and Pammy went home and began an almost a bawling forgive, kiss, and make up session that night, as they started repairing their relationship.) While I would like to think {well, I do have an ego} it was because of me, I think Diane’s talk had more to do with it than I did.)

(4)

First period Monday, I was still stunned thinking about the weekend.  I had just come into the classroom when Diane thanked me again, not for being on the beach but for talking for three hours.  Damn, was it that long?  It seemed like just a few minutes.  This got a few strange looks from others in the class, because Diane had always been thought of as standoffish to everyone.  She was Rick’s girl, and that was all that was important to her.  Also, moving into a small town at a late age meant that she never up, till then, had met any girls to be her best friend, the role she and Tammy were about to share with each other.

At noontime, when I got to the cafeteria, I found Tammy and Diane were standing just inside the door in deep conversation.  I smiled at them and started to walk by them, when Tammy asked where I thought I was going.  When I said to get lunch, she pointed out that they were waiting on me, and it would be rude to just walk by without escorting them to the line.  Grinning sheepishly, I bowed and let them pass to, giggles from them and stares from others.  We sat at a table, and thus began a daily ritual of eating together that cemented us forever friends.  While we were eating, Diane asked where I had applied for college.  I noticed Tammy lean forward a little, until I told Diane I was planning on staying home and going to a junior college in Newport News, at least for the first year.  She had applied to a couple of schools in Northern California, because Rick was at Stanford.  Tammy, who was a junior, said she wanted to go to a small school out in the countryside.  It was not big talk, that stuff; it was just talk among friends, and, in a way all three of us needed that more than we knew.  It was the basis of a friendship that saw us all through times good and bad, even though we had no idea what the future held.

 As football season was now over, I was free after school, but Tammy's gymnastics was just starting.  I started futzing around in the gym or library when the weather was bad, or going for walks when it was good.  Most of the time I actually finished my home work before Tammy’s practice was done, and we would walk home.  Being in public most of the time put a damper on the mushy stuff and Pammy being home from dance practice when we got there took care of the rest.  Wandering to my house for alone time was out of the question, as nine times out of ten my mom was there, so we made appearances there for appearances sake, and found out that we really liked ourselves.  We were growing together, and liked each other more for it.  

We were known more as the Blob and the Pole behind our backs, but for once neither of us cared about that.  One day when I was in the bathroom, Steve happened to come in, and when one word could have destroyed the last visage of friendship left, he shocked me when he said he was glad to see me happy again.  It stopped it from deteriorating more than it had, and slowly started to rebuild it.  As far as that went, it never returned to the closeness it had once been.

With this as a background, we continued on till Christmas vacation was almost here, having survived the effect of Lee Harvey Oswald shattering the country by assassinating JFK, which we heard in the last class of the day.  There honestly wasn't a dry eye in the town that day.

One day, Tammy dragged me to the car.  She had driven it that day, and Diane was already in the back seat.  Giving me the keys, she said “Drive,” and pointed out the exit.  We got on the interstate for a quick run to the airport.  Rick was arriving.

I didn’t know Rick at all.  I mean, I knew who he was; I had seen him around.  I was to find out that few people outside that car knew him.  Though only two years older than me,  he had skipped three grades, and was now in his junior year at Stanford, transferring there from local William and Mary this year when he was offered a fellowship at the Xerox Research Center.  

He had hacked off about every male in town at least on the beach that day, when he performed his act of heroism for Diane.  So, if not outright hatred, they felt animosity toward him, and southerners have long memories, especially in small towns.  So he had become sort of a James Dean type, sullen and moody in public.  That was all I knew then, except my two friends, who knew him well, couldn't wait to see him again.  When we got to the gate, we had a half-hour to wait, so we got a drink and sat around talking.  We did that a lot then; there was little on TV then but American Bandstand.  After junior high, no one watched that, or at least admitted to it.  The malls were not yet the in thing.  There was downtown and a trip to Richmond or Newport News that meant their downtown.  So we sort of hung out and talked at Rascals, the drive-in or someone’s house.

Diane kept clinching her hands.  It was as if they had forgotten what Rick felt like, and the constant squeezing would help them remember.  Tammy just held my hand and looked out the window, as if it would make the plane come faster.  Then it arrived, a National Airlines DC 7 from Washington, D.C.  Both girls rose as one and rushed the gate, waiting for Rick.  I didn't see him, but knew he was by the gate when Diane flew into the doorway with arms outstretched.  A large figure emerged, carrying baggage and wearing Diane like a tie.  (What a lovely tie that was!).  As Tammy neared, he opened his arms, and she hugged Diane’s back though nether of them seemed to notice.  When he reached me, he stopped.  Gave me a manly hug, which meant I got to hug Diane’s back.  (That girl was strong when it came to hugging Rick.)  As we got to the stairs down, Diane finally let go, with tears of joy on her face and Rick firmly in her hand.  After getting the luggage we headed for the car.  I handed the keys to Rick.  He let them dangle, and said, “Home, Tom,” with a smile and a comment about making up for lost back seat time.  It was almost self-defense when Tammy slid next to me, almost on my lap even, and just held me all the way home.  I was in a happy daze.  It had been a long time since Tammy and I had really been alone, given the circumstances, but we truly were alone with four people in the car.

As the miles went by Rick said “Tom, head for the beach.  You know the place you and Tammy met that night.  We all need some quiet, and, damn it, I am in no rush to get home.”  We sat in the parking area, and the car was silent except for sighs and kisses.  Damn, Tammy and I were really making out; I was cupping her breast and smoothing any wrinkles in the back of her skirt.  She sat on my lap and had my tongue tied to a vacuum cleaner that, just for at least the first minutes had me to dizzy to breathe.  Then I was to excited to breathe, then I just had to breathe.  As we separated, we heard laughter from the back seat and a comment from Diane about how maybe she ought to let us have some privacy once in a while.  Rick laughingly agreed, but only if she had a fire extinguisher in her hand.

Tammy never at a loss for words just stuck her tongue out and went back to kissing me.  When a strong “ahem” from the back seat got her to open her eyes, she saw Rick smiling.  He asked "do you have it?  My mind thought: what, a gun or something?  But damn, this is the way to die, if I was to be shot.  As Tammy fumbled in her purse for a minute refusing to break the lip lock she had, till she pulled out an envelope, and handed it to Rick by reaching behind my head and hugging me even tighter.  With another “ahem”, she ceased and desisted long enough for me to get copious amounts of air in my lungs, and to watch Rick pull Diane to the edge of the back seat.  There, out the door, he knelt down and asked her to marry him, he saying he was before god and all his friends.  I was beginning to feel like a chauffeur that should have gone for a walk.   When he seemed to sense it, he said, “Yes, Tom you are one of my close friends, for what happened here one night.”

With a smile after Diane accepted, he said again, “Home, Tom,” and added, with an evil grin for Tammy’s sake “to be rewarded.”  She favored him with one of the most evil looks from her I ever saw, only to burst out laughing when Rick said, "Well, I am a big brother, you know.  I don’t need to know when you lose your virginity, let alone witness it.  I just need to know that he treated you right." 

I almost choked on that, and Tammy gave me a knowing grin and whispered, "Don't hold your breath for it, Tom.  At least, not yet.  But perhaps one day you can."

When we got to the Broward house, Diane held out her left hand, and Rick’s Mom and Pammy just crushed her in a hug, with tears, and then stared at the ring.  It had been in their family many years, and was given to Rick by his mother to use as an engagement ring.  When James, who had expected it as the oldest son, found out, it ended any remaining family ties for him in his mind, and he would never seek to mend them again.  

That night at dinner, I was not an invited guest, I was family.   While I was often a guest in the past, this time my parents and little sister, and Diane’s parents were the guests.  Now as Rick’s dad toasted the table and said, “To the family, and those to be family, may we enjoy life together.”  James got up and left the house with a slam, never to return.  In the stunned silence we just sat there a moment, until Rick rose and pointedly looking at Diane and me, said “To the family and those who are truly a part of it” and sat down.  Quiet descended at the table and I think the parents formed a greater friendship that night.  While not treated like kids, we went to the basement to listen to Rick play his guitar and sing Christmas songs while there was talking upstairs for a change.

As we left for home, Tammy gave me a hug and a kiss.  Before god and three sets of parents, and to much laughter, as her dad said, "About time you two at least kissed good night without hiding." 

My dad added, as the laughter turned to a roar, "Just hide the rest, okay?"  

As we got in the car, Mom said, “Phil, Janie was there," as dad and I both saw Janie mouth the words and giggle.

(5)

The next day, we met Rick after school at rascals and he told us about college.  Then, he talked about how they were planning on a June wedding, and I was going to be the best man, while Tammy would be the maid of honor.  He was starting to work on something soon to be called DARPA Net, and they were paying him really good, and he just really felt something would come from it.  (Little did we know then?)  But, he said we all ought to at least study some part of computers or business, because it really might now be the coming thing, with the stuff they were doing at the Xerox research facilities, and we could all grow and prosper with it.  

Tammy told the tale of how she had gotten Diane’s ring size, as directed by that call to Rick, and even snuck it on one night when she was sleeping over at Diane’s, just to make sure the jeweler had gotten the size exactly right.

Diane had gotten accepted at a small California school, near enough to Stanford that they could live together after they were married, and still go to school.  As it happened, this was to be almost an idyllic period for us, the first of many.  We spent the vacation getting to know each other better, and Rick truly became my best friend.  (Well, next to Tammy.)

Makeout sessions continued, and advanced, in my case, as I felt my first (gasp) real live girl between her legs, and continued finger-mapping Tammy's breasts and body.  The presence of four in the car did keep it a bit under control for all (I’m sure much to the parents’ relief), but that first Christmas, Tammy and I went into the church with arms firmly entwined.  

About a week after Rick returned to Stanford, disaster struck.

That fall, Tammy had been working out on a new routine with a friend that included a spin and flip on the uneven parallel bars.  With that, she was ready to go into competition.  The first exercise of the night was the uneven bars.  Being that she was taller than most gymnasts the coach said it may have been only a matter of time till she could not be an all-around gymnast, and would have to compete in selected events.  The coach had tried to discourage her from competing this year, but Tammy was not to be stopped.  That was part of her now, as she warmed up, smiled and waved at us, (her parents, Pammy, Diane and I were on the sidelines) she was ready to go.

As some things seem to happen, the music had just stopped for a floor exercise, and the applause had yet to begin.  We all heard the sickening thunk as her head hit the lower bar, and she collapsed to the floor.  Mercifully, there were paramedics and they were treating her even as the shock wore off.  Pammy and Diane just hugged me and cried while her parents went down to the floor.  As I watched, the girls both had their faces buried into my shoulders.  Her dad gestured for us to head out the door and meet them there.  The paramedics were putting Tammy on the stretcher as we left for the doorway.

I still can't describe what I felt then; just cold fear, I guess was the best description.  The way she fell, it appeared that her neck had been broken, and, at the least from the thunk, she had a very bad concussion.  While Diane looked and listened to Tammy's father tell which hospital we were going to due to, the possible neck injury, Pammy refused to look, as if doing so made it real, and not seeing would keep it away so it was only a bad dream.

As Diane and I got in the car, it felt really empty without Tammy; Diane sort of collapsed against me and just cried.  Tammy's mom was in the ambulance with her, while her dad having physically pulled Pammy from me, was in their car.  A sad, worried, and scared caravan headed down the road that night.  We passed through the Hampton Roads tunnel, going into Norfolk from Hampton, seeing little of it, eyes on the car ahead and the flashing lights of the ambulance further ahead.  It was then that I noticed the lights of a police car that had joined somewhere, flashing lights in the rear.  The Browardmobile without a Broward in it was following my love.  

Once we got to the hospital, we had to separate.  The ambulance only could use the emergency entrance.  By the time we got organized in the parking lot and went into the emergency room, Tammy's mom sat alone on a bench, her face buried, so lonely, so lost while one of her babies was hurting.  All she could tell us was Tammy hadn't moved at all on the trip.

Steve’s dad, the Chief of Police, had followed us over from the meet, and arrived in the emergency room.  Steve had been at the gym and called him.  He had picked up the last car as we were leaving town, and just put his flashers on.  I hadn't noticed at all till we were in the tunnel.  I had kept my eyes on the ambulance, thinking as long as the lights were flashing, there was hope.  The doctors were with her now, and that long empty wait began.  Within an hour, Diane’s and my parents had arrived (Steve had called them as well, when his dad told him where we were going, he had moved from a maybe friend back to full friend that night.)

We took over one corner of the waiting room, and my mom was the angel watching over us all, giving hugs, coffee, and encouragement to all as the night crawled along.  Coffee appeared and disappeared; Pammy had grown into Diane’s side and mine as her parents were taken again and again to answer questions or get a briefing for all of us.  When I saw a priest arrive, terrible thoughts of eternal loneliness filled my mind, maudlin scenes from all the old movies.   Then I remembered we weren’t catholic, so they wouldn't need a priest for Tammy.  Relief filled my mind, only to empty when our minister and his wife walked through the door.  My heart and mind sank so low as I saw them near us.  Then, suddenly, Tammy's mom came through the door, a touch of a smile amid the tears.

 “They don’t think Tammy's neck is broken.  She has temporary paralysis, and she has a very severe concussion.  They are trying to keep the swelling down,” she managed before a fresh wave of tears washed over her.  “They think she will make it, they think she'll live.”  

The sun rose for me at three thirty one that morning. 

Rick arrived at eight that morning.  He had caught the last plane out of San Francisco to DC, and the first plane to Norfolk.  He brought no baggage, just his worries, as he hadn't heard anything.  It was almost twelve hours since we arrived at the hospital.  He sat with Diane and just held her for life, while we waited for the next update.  His dad came out, and said, “Its certain. Tammy’s going to make it. They took her out of the operating room and put her in another room.  Only one of us can go in, and Samantha is in there with her now.”   The weight of a thousand anvils lifted throughout the room.  Pammy, dear Pammy slowly got up and gave me a hug then ran to her dad and almost knocked him over as she jumped and gave him a hug.  

We all went down to breakfast to plan for the day.  Pammy was going to go back with my parents and pack clothes for her family and me to bring to the hospital, while Diane’s folks went to find us hotel rooms nearby.  Since the fleet was at sea now, there were plentiful rooms to be found nearby.

Then a different vigil began around the clock.  Someone was always with Tammy; we rotated through the weekend this way.  Then Diane’s father and mine had to go back to work on Monday, so there were two fewer people to share the vigil.  Then, as time again took its toll, my mom and Diane's mom had to go back.  We were down to a core of six Samantha, Paul, Rick and Diane, Pammy and me, to watch and wait.  We continued on, as they kept her in a coma to let the swelling go down naturally.  It was just time, the doctors assured us, that was needed now.

I looked at this angel that had changed my life, laying there with tubes for food, tubes for drinks, tubes for medicine.  There were so many, I thought some of the tubes had tubes.  After nine days of trial and error, I found I could maybe hold her little finger safely, but I knew I had to hold something.  I just watched and hoped.  When I noticed some movement in her finger, I was so startled, I couldn't believe it.   I started talking again, just so maybe she knew she wasn't alone, and pushed the button to call the nurse.  She came in and said that there was some kind of eye movement, so she was coming out of it a little at a time.  She left and called the doctor first, then the hotel.  It was ten thirty at night.  The days had flown and combined to the point where I had no idea at time, other than I was with Tammy, or I wasn't.  Day or night it didn't matter.  

Samantha walked in, and tapped my shoulder and asked, "Tom? please let me stay?"

I nodded and left the room, and went to the waiting room.  The hotel crew (all of those who stayed there and watched) was there.  The doctor came out and said she should wake up in a few hours.  Paul called all the peninsula crew around midnight (our families that had to go back).  Within an hour, they had all arrived.  About two thirty, Samantha came out, tears streaming down her face, and my heart fell.

She walked to Paul and said, loud enough for all to hear, “She’s awake, Paul, she wants to see you.  She has been awake for ten minutes.  The doctors are there now, checking, but Paul, our baby is back."  Then she collapsed into his arms.

We each took turns visiting for about ten minutes, she couldn’t say much.  It seemed there was always someone to prod her with something or other while she lay there.  When I went in, she said slowly but understandably, "Prom night after we dance the night away."

A few days later, she was transferred to the local hospital for a few days more, and for tests to determine any long-term damage.  Rick had to leave before the transfer.  He went in for an hour, and then asked me to drive him to the airport with Diane.  They sat in the backseat and hugged while we talked.  He told me that she was committed to going to the Prom, and for the after-after party I had better have a hotel room.  That was all he told me to plan for, but I was just thinking of my next visit with her.

As Rick wasn't taking any luggage, there was none to take in, so I borrowed Pammy's line about the "mushy stuff" and left them to it in the Browardmobile.  The way it rocked, I figured there was an awful lot of mushy stuff going on.  Afraid I would have to break my promise, as the flight time neared, Rick emerged, a bit more bedraggled than when he got in.  I walked with him to the gate, since I had checked him in on his flight already (you could do that in those days).  Just as he was getting ready to board, Diane yelled and rushed up, and hugged him, mad because he had left her asleep in the car.

As the plane departed, we walked back to the car, and Diane told me that Samantha had been calling James day after day, to tell him what had happened.  If he picked up the phone and heard her voice, he had just hung it up.  Diane had found her crying in the girl’s room that day after one of the calls, and they just hugged while Samantha cried.  She said Tammy and Pammy didn't know, and didn't need to at all.

 We got to the car, and an embarrassed and evidently bare-assed Diane and I noticed her panties on the back seat.  For some reason, we just started laughing, and didn't stop for ten minutes as we released some of the stress from the last almost two weeks.

(6)

Time passed slowly the next few weeks, as I got more familiar with tasks that I had to perform during my watch, those romantic things like emptying bedpans and give sponge baths.  The bed pans I hated, but did it for Tammy, because she was my life and love.  Now the baths, umm, as time went on we made more of a game out of it, and I explored rather liberally, it seemed.  When I was there, she always needed at least one sponge bath.  Though the one day when she needed four, I think Samantha got a bit suspicious of it all.  So we cooled it a bit.  

Then began the therapy, and learning to do things over again.  While there were no overt signs of brain damage, the doctors still wanted to prod her off and on, until they were happy with the results, and could say she would be back to normal soon.

She noticed one day that I was reading a book, and asked me to read it to her.  When I tried to throw in some voices, she just told me to cool it and read.  It was almost as off key as my singing in her ear at the dances we had been to.  Taking great offense at this, I asked why she never told me this before, and she smiled and said when I was close enough to sing in her ear, she got other benefits from it that made it pleasurable.

A couple of things we noticed as well after the fall were that her periods became more regular, and she had gotten bigger boobs, as she was gaining some weight.  She noticed the boob thing when Samantha hadn't found a bra of hers that fit her anymore while getting her ready for a doctor’s appointment.  She had to "borrow" one of Pammy's, which, thinking back to that night so long ago, made me smile and say, "Yeah, no curves at all." Just as I ducked, an empty bedpan flew by.  It was the nearest thing throwable she could grab.  

We worked every day with her, to get her coordination back, and slowly build her endurance back up, with her working like this till May arrived, and we were ready for the prom.  She had been a bit of a tease the last few weeks.  Whenever I would offer to do something for her, like a sponge bath with a wink, wink, nudge, nudge, or a kiss, either my breath was icky or hers was or Pammy should give her the bath, and she would laugh as my face fell.

I was going from freedom to agony after our time together.  This was anguish, until that night when we walked into the prom.  Then she kissed me as the band started playing Moon River or something like, it I lost track of it and all the songs that followed, when with the first notes of the band, when she whispered, “You can hold your breath till the end of our virginity now.”

From despair to euphoria in 11 words.  That was mind blowing, and I simply got a laugh and another kiss, this one a lot deeper than the first.  Needless to say, I was ready to leave then.  She said we had agreed to dance the night away, and pouted every time I would suggest that perhaps she needed a bit of rest, and we should go to the room for a few minutes to let her lie down.  At every one of these suggestions, she'd remind me saying, "I’m older than a minute.  That couch over there would be fine.”

Diane hadn’t attended the prom, because she was going apartment hunting in the bay area.  They needed at least a two bedroom now, as their final "mushy stuff" in the Browardmobile must have been very potent.  That it was the only time they had done it unprotected, was their claim.  “Yeah, right,” and an evil grin was Tammy's answer.  The wedding was going to be in a week’s time when they got home. Diane had already finished all her course work and exams.  I had only one paper to turn in. (How, you ask?  Remember my mom, and it will help the kids?  She fell for that, hook line and sinker.)  With every trip from the peninsula new homework assignments arrived with the rotating schedule.  There was a parent, or Rick was always glad to be sadistic to Pammy, Diane, or me and watch us do it, or proctor a test.  We not only kept up; we somehow had gotten ahead.  A few weeks after she was released from the hospital, Tammy joined us as well.  Like me, she had one paper left to turn in.  We thought we would do field research on the subjects together.  As it turned out, no parents raised any issue with this, and we were leaving for the Shenandoah Valley the next week, for one week.  I would study Stonewall Jackson’s Valley Campaign for history and she would study the flora and fauna for biology.

We finally arrived at the room after the after-party, to get ready for our own after-after party.  We walked in, and I slowly shut the door.  Then, almost hyperventilating, I reached out to give her a big hug as I undid her zipper.  She gave a long kiss, and nothing but tongue, as I felt her shiver a bit as the dress came down.  I gently rubbed her back for a second, then, letting her go and starting to check her out, I watched as she lowered the half slip and hose.  Hmmm, garter belt panties, and bra.  Wow, the new weight had filled the curves out a bit more, giving me more to hold on to or stroke, but not enough to ever be wasteful.  We walked to the bed, and I slowly lowered her to it while I undressed for her, trying for a bit of a strip tease.

 She halted it with "Here ...now, my sex toy," and a giggle as she grabbed me.   

We ended up on the bed, me hanging due to height, and her smothered due to weight.  Rapidly correcting this problem, I tested a few minutes for icky breath, which neither of us seemed to have.  So, we continued exploring, for icky tonsils as well, when this ended.  We played a quick round of pin the tongue in the mouth, while trying desperately to slow our seemingly rising breath.  Alas, I surrendered to temptation, and started following in reverse the trail of freckles, from the eyes that I had noticed that first night.  Two or three life times ago.  I didn't find a bit of icky skin either, as I tried to inspect it all.

I found, instead, rather pleasant sensations when tried to kiss climb her breasts, only to be stopped by the bra. I tried without success to get her to give me access to her back, so I could get it off.  After a second of fumbling for the hook, she said, “It’s strapless and hooks in the front.” Taking the hint, I managed to get it off with out passing out, barely.  The bra disappeared, before you could say it was history, it was.

A beautiful valley filled my vision as I started scaling these delectable peaks again.  Scintillating, teasing aromas were arriving at my head, encouraging me to quit scaling heights and to go explore fauna and flora in a red forest I had noticed below.  But I never swerved in circling kisses to climb those mountains and claim them as ours, to share forever.  With giggles and a severe earthquake came an announcement of “Oh, Tom, oh, good, oh God, and a final “Toooooom.”   With a definite shove in a new direction I hastened, to explore the forest at my queen’s demand to claim this as well as ours.  On entering, I discovered a semi hidden valley that my tongue descended into, explored, and mapped all the nooks, crannies, and this strange volcano building up at the northern end, into my memories of forever.  While trying to circle it, another chorus of “Oh God, oh Tom, ohhhhhhhhhh,” erupted, climaxed by an off key” Oh shit.”  She stopped and asked, “What happened?” 

Embarrassed, I answered, "I did it in my drawers."

Faced with a grossed-out “You better not have” look on her face, I corrected myself.  “No, no, not that.  I shot it all over my drawers.”  And we both laughed for a few minutes.

Smugly, she said "Diane told me to get you off early, but not often, so you'll last longer.  Now I don’t have to, na na na na boo hoo."

Since she was in, obviously to me, a playful mood, I figured it would be a good time to quick slide the condom on and roll it down, before I penetrated and broke her hymen, and she realized what was going to happen.  Then it hit me: first, that cum on the outside was no protection; secondly, I was soft, so there was nothing to use for traction to roll it against.

Then I heard a little voice below my head saying, “Damn, it’s messy down here.  Now I do have to clean you up?  This condom is never going to protect me this way,” and I felt a few tentative touches from a tongue, and started noticing another volcano building down below on me.  Quick lashes and slides by the tongue had me grabbing for what ever was handy to hold onto.  There seemed to be a pair of hips off to the left so I grabbed them and pulled: well, really slid them over me, to smell that aphrodisiac again.  Then I noticed, once again, the softness of the flower blooming within, sharing shades of pink and red.  I decided to explore this delight again and find how it was different.   As I raised my head slowly and lapped those wonderful lips, I gently spread them to explore this new opening and map the distance to the dreaded hymen.

"A cheery cherry, so apropos, don’t you think?"

Awakened from my worship-like trance of homage to this wonderful love of my life, I asked,   "Cheery cherry, what’s that?" 

She giggled as she went slowly down my cock, swallowing as much as she could, then sliding around the edges.  I looked down as she raised as best I could.  I was red, I mean fire truck red, not the lovely red from the skin like her tones were.  When I asked what’s wrong, she said, "Courtesy of Rick and Diane, a specialty flavored condom on, secured, and it better get going soon or I’ll take you back in exchange.”

I rapidly...  hell I dove to the call, and slowly entered her, creeping along in and out slowly.  She sort of asked me what was I doing. 

“Trying not to break the hymen and hurt you too much,” I replied.  Suddenly I was on her chest flat against her belly and flush with her pubic bone.  I was all the way in.

She just smiled and said, “No hymen.  Lost it years ago in gymnastics.  That’s what falling does for you.”   Then she grabbed me and kissed me like I want to be kissed every day I’m alive. Hell, I was more than alive; I was betwixt wherever and there.  Suspended, by a probing tongue attack and a tight tunnel of warmth. maybe even if I’m dead it will bring me back to life.  

Slowly, I started moving and trying to get some of my weight off her.  Each time I tried I was slipping off her to the side, and still afraid I had too much weight on her.  Suddenly I was really squeezed to her, as her legs wrapped around my back, and I flew over on my back.  As she lifted slightly, I could see those boobs that I saw awhile back.  I tried to count how many centuries as I tried to concentrate, as we both discovered places on each other we didn’t know existed, or had simply dreamed of.  As she started building and saying again, “Oh Tom, oh Tom,” I could only chant love fragments. “Tammmm, I love, I love…”  The last words disappeared as I tried to gasp air.  She and I both jumped as if something had been shoved into us, and collapsed amid one grand orgasm by Pinocchio, no, Pinastra, no, oh hell, as my mind cleared.

That’s not important.  I grasped Tammy and held on for dear live as I said, “I love you forever and ever, wonderful woman, I love you.  

With a smile she said, “I know.  I love you, too.”

We woke once during the night and simply stroked and replaced our arms around each other, and drifted back to sleep.  When I awoke the next morning, she was looking at me with those eyes so full of life and love.  She leaned forward and said, "I think ill keep you forever and a day, until the twelfth of never."

The chaplain knocked on the door, as she had been playing out ideas for their formal wedding flowers.  This one was for their family, not like the quickie one in Hawaii while Tom was on R&R from Vietnam, and Rick and Diane had flown over to meet them.  That was for them.  When she saw the uniforms, she knew, and the tears flowed.

It was a quiet, moonlit night on the beach.  As she slowly entered the water, she was alone again. Tom wasn't here, and through the tears, she knew she had to find him, as she swam, searching for him.

Rick and Diane buried them together.   

Because of the National Cemetery rules, Tammy was again on top, forever.