Tina: Part 3
When we were 12, almost 13 years old, Tina came to stay with me for a few weeks one Summer. She and her family had moved away to another city next to us to be closer to Lorraine's work and to her boss. Lorraine was the assistant to a well-known councilman in the city, and sometimes I heard my parents say she was in love with him. I always doubted it and often wondered why parents said stuff like that, especially about women. I still do. Lorraine was a great provider for her mess of children and worked hard to get them in the best schools in the best suburbs. I wondered sometimes if my folks were jealous of her ~ Of her freedom and her willingness to get out of crappy marriages and to work hard and to have made so much money. Well, she was always nice to me and very funny too. She had a really raspy smoker's voice and a bark that could scare a more timid child than me, but she was good hearted and a wonderful mother, and her children adored her.
So anyhow, in spite of the move, Tina was great about staying in touch with me. I was then as I am now, not good at staying in contact, so lazy, lazy when it comes to that kinda thing. But every few weeks during Summerbreak I'd get a phone call from her that would perk up my life, and startle that tempered girl inside me who was sick of being good. I'd feel guilty even before saying hi back to her when I'd hear her voice on the phone because I knew whatever she had in mind was going to be way too much fun, and I was always way too eager to go along with it. When she asked to come and stay that Summer, I couldn't wait 'til she arrived. I had been saved at school not many years before by the blood of the Lamb, but without fail, during break I was always ready to say sayonara to Jesus until the following September.
I was sleeping outside in the pop-up or on the porch most every night because I always wanted to sleep outside when it was warm, I still do. So when Tina came, we packed up food from the kitchen and set up house in the camper, and mostly we snacked during the day and read detective magazines she brought with her about women held captive by handsome kidnappers, and usually their buttons somehow fell off their too tight shirts exposing their ample breasts to the kidnapper who was unable to resist, resulting in a love twist before rescue....
Were any of our parents there ever in the Summer at age 12? I sure have no recollection of seeing an adult presence ever during that entire 3 months.
Restless after bedtime, we started taking late night walks around the block, staying close to the camper in the darkened night, smoking MORE cigarettes, those long brown ones? Or maybe KOOLS, whatever we could steal from my brother, or find on the sidewalk, and each night we'd get a little more daring, extending the path of our blockwalk until we eventually strayed to another neighbrhood, then another, until we reached the railroad that led to the other side of town.
One Friday we were walking down the tracks and saw ahead of us 3 figures, shadows from out of the trees that ran along side. I could feel my pulse quicken and she grabbed my sweating hand and I clawed at hers while we walked a little slower, both scared out of our wits. I said, "....we should go back..." she gave me a sideways glance and shook her head... so we kept going. She was so fucking daring, and now I wonder what she thought we'd find when we got further... And I wonder why I was so compelled to follow..
As we got closer I could make out by squinting that the figures now hunched over were 3 boys I knew, much older than me, who were friends of my brothers and Tina squeezed my hand a little harder, but this time in excitement. I was still scared though, and what they were doing huddled together I couldn't see. So once we got closer the one guy, Steve, who I knew by name looked up and said, "Oh, hey.." Tina and I both said hi and they asked what we were doing out so late. I saw that they were smoking, but not tobacco, and though I knew the scent I hadn't had a lot of experience with being exposed to it. They asked if we wanted some and Tina without hesitation said, "Yes." I widened my eyes at her and she smiled.
So we all sat on the tracks and smoked under the moonlit Summer night, and an owl warbling in the background offered a nice effect. I didn't forget it. And the soundless hollow feel of being surrounded by the trees and the hard track beneath me, the smell of the creosote on the ties, the low voices of maturing boys that was not before known to me except muffled from within my brother's closed off room ~ and here I was close enough not only to hear one speaking, but directly to me, and to see the whiskers on his cheek and the way his long hair curled around his ear. I was by that time in a state of wanting to know what that tender lobe would feel like on the tip of my tongue, but instead I tried to scoot a little closer just to able to smell him.
We stayed there for hours talking, laughing and drifting into silences only to fall into laughter again, and conversation... It was mystical, this 5-some we made together was pure magic. We all agreed to meet the next night at the playground at the elementary school on the other side of the tracks.
Tina and I walked home and crashed hard. When we awoke we planned our rendezvous with those wonderful boys and the anticipation colored our whole day in preparation. This time we decided we were going to wear make-up and our outfits would be carefully selected. And I planned definitely to let the whisker-y boy kiss me if he wanted to, and Tina bounced off the camper walls for hours. We didn't read smut or snack on junk. We didn't smoke or talk endlessly about what we wanted to do or listen to music or lay around on lounge chairs or spray each other with the hose. We didn't go to the pool, we didn't play Parcheesi or run to the 5 and Dime to buy candy with found dimes and nickles.
We waited all day.
Finally it was dusk and we walked to the school and saw the boys there. Maybe the moon was in the wrong place, or the night not far enough along, but the energy had changed, the lottery ticket cashed in and the magic had ended. When we arrived they barely noticed us, they were engrossed already in a long conversation about something we didn't know about. We sat on the swings and let our feet drag along the ground and watched them awhile and when there was a lull in their talking, they glanced over at us with glazed eyes and asked us if we wanted to share a pipe.
Tina and I looked at each other for a moment and said, "Nah..." And we wandered back to camp.
So anyhow, in spite of the move, Tina was great about staying in touch with me. I was then as I am now, not good at staying in contact, so lazy, lazy when it comes to that kinda thing. But every few weeks during Summerbreak I'd get a phone call from her that would perk up my life, and startle that tempered girl inside me who was sick of being good. I'd feel guilty even before saying hi back to her when I'd hear her voice on the phone because I knew whatever she had in mind was going to be way too much fun, and I was always way too eager to go along with it. When she asked to come and stay that Summer, I couldn't wait 'til she arrived. I had been saved at school not many years before by the blood of the Lamb, but without fail, during break I was always ready to say sayonara to Jesus until the following September.
I was sleeping outside in the pop-up or on the porch most every night because I always wanted to sleep outside when it was warm, I still do. So when Tina came, we packed up food from the kitchen and set up house in the camper, and mostly we snacked during the day and read detective magazines she brought with her about women held captive by handsome kidnappers, and usually their buttons somehow fell off their too tight shirts exposing their ample breasts to the kidnapper who was unable to resist, resulting in a love twist before rescue....
Were any of our parents there ever in the Summer at age 12? I sure have no recollection of seeing an adult presence ever during that entire 3 months.
Restless after bedtime, we started taking late night walks around the block, staying close to the camper in the darkened night, smoking MORE cigarettes, those long brown ones? Or maybe KOOLS, whatever we could steal from my brother, or find on the sidewalk, and each night we'd get a little more daring, extending the path of our blockwalk until we eventually strayed to another neighbrhood, then another, until we reached the railroad that led to the other side of town.
One Friday we were walking down the tracks and saw ahead of us 3 figures, shadows from out of the trees that ran along side. I could feel my pulse quicken and she grabbed my sweating hand and I clawed at hers while we walked a little slower, both scared out of our wits. I said, "....we should go back..." she gave me a sideways glance and shook her head... so we kept going. She was so fucking daring, and now I wonder what she thought we'd find when we got further... And I wonder why I was so compelled to follow..
As we got closer I could make out by squinting that the figures now hunched over were 3 boys I knew, much older than me, who were friends of my brothers and Tina squeezed my hand a little harder, but this time in excitement. I was still scared though, and what they were doing huddled together I couldn't see. So once we got closer the one guy, Steve, who I knew by name looked up and said, "Oh, hey.." Tina and I both said hi and they asked what we were doing out so late. I saw that they were smoking, but not tobacco, and though I knew the scent I hadn't had a lot of experience with being exposed to it. They asked if we wanted some and Tina without hesitation said, "Yes." I widened my eyes at her and she smiled.
So we all sat on the tracks and smoked under the moonlit Summer night, and an owl warbling in the background offered a nice effect. I didn't forget it. And the soundless hollow feel of being surrounded by the trees and the hard track beneath me, the smell of the creosote on the ties, the low voices of maturing boys that was not before known to me except muffled from within my brother's closed off room ~ and here I was close enough not only to hear one speaking, but directly to me, and to see the whiskers on his cheek and the way his long hair curled around his ear. I was by that time in a state of wanting to know what that tender lobe would feel like on the tip of my tongue, but instead I tried to scoot a little closer just to able to smell him.
We stayed there for hours talking, laughing and drifting into silences only to fall into laughter again, and conversation... It was mystical, this 5-some we made together was pure magic. We all agreed to meet the next night at the playground at the elementary school on the other side of the tracks.
Tina and I walked home and crashed hard. When we awoke we planned our rendezvous with those wonderful boys and the anticipation colored our whole day in preparation. This time we decided we were going to wear make-up and our outfits would be carefully selected. And I planned definitely to let the whisker-y boy kiss me if he wanted to, and Tina bounced off the camper walls for hours. We didn't read smut or snack on junk. We didn't smoke or talk endlessly about what we wanted to do or listen to music or lay around on lounge chairs or spray each other with the hose. We didn't go to the pool, we didn't play Parcheesi or run to the 5 and Dime to buy candy with found dimes and nickles.
We waited all day.
Finally it was dusk and we walked to the school and saw the boys there. Maybe the moon was in the wrong place, or the night not far enough along, but the energy had changed, the lottery ticket cashed in and the magic had ended. When we arrived they barely noticed us, they were engrossed already in a long conversation about something we didn't know about. We sat on the swings and let our feet drag along the ground and watched them awhile and when there was a lull in their talking, they glanced over at us with glazed eyes and asked us if we wanted to share a pipe.
Tina and I looked at each other for a moment and said, "Nah..." And we wandered back to camp.
posted by SPOA | 11:50 AM
2 Comments:
"... and an owl warbling in the background offered a nice effect. I didn't forget it. And the soundless hollow feel of being surrounded by the trees and the hard track beneath me, the smell of the creosote on the ties, the low voices of maturing boys that was not before known to me except muffled from within my brother's closed off room ..."
This is good stuff! I remember the same things, all of them forgotten till you reminded me (especially the smell of creosote). Just passing through, but I want you to know that it's great to read something like this. A blogger who can really write!
Geez, I wish I could offer you a drink or something. I love the company, thanks for coming by.
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