Struggles of a Country boy

by Herb Blanchard

  "We own four hundred feet of road frontage which runs back to the creek. Only the first hundred feet where the house sits is any good for anything. The rest is like you can see, all pucker brush and hundred year old stumps. It makes a nice spot for a range though, and I managed to cut enough brush to get this hundred yard rifle range."

  "Dad! Dad, are you and Brad down here?"

  "We'll be at the bench in just a minute, Ginny. Why don't you meet us there." Bud hollered back at his youngest before turning to Brad.

  If you want to shoot some more your welcome to. But I have a feeling I'm being hunted down to be put to work. I have to do any barbecuing or campfire cooking that goes on around here. Yoshi says Americans cremate and destroy everything we cook on an open fire. So she refuses to have any part of it.

  "Ginny?"

  "I'm at the bench, Dad"

  Brad followed Bud along a narrow trail through the head high brush. They were out of sight and hearing of the creek, but in the June heat, Brad could smell the water.

  "I brought you each a Coke. You've been down here shooting for two hours. Is it so much fun, Dad?"

  "Of course it is. Besides, you know your old man, any excuse to play." Bud answered.

  Ginny stretched up and kissed her dad on the cheek then came around the bench to where Brad was standing.

  "Don't let him bore you, Brad. He'll stay down here all day if someone will listen to his war stories. Want to take a walk down to the millpond for a swim with us? Dad is going to help mom get supper." Ginny said very pointedly and smiling at her father's scowl.

  "Did your mother put you up to this?"

  "Dad. Of course not. You know Yoshi would never do such a thing!"

  Taking his hand Ginny started to lead Brad down the short hill to the gravel road.

  "Come on. Elinor and Joanna are waiting for us in front of the house."

  "Where's Charlie?" Brad asked.

  "He's in the backyard flirting with Yoshi. I can see why you like him, Brad. He really is a nice guy."

  Ginny watched her father out of the corner of her eye to see how he took her remark about Yoshi and Charlie. Her smile spread and while Brad studied her the smile became contagious. He too started smiling and they both laughed out loud when Bud grimaced and muttered something about middle aged mothers.

  "I know what she's doing. She's laying the ground work so your Miss Bishop can trap him." He added while he gathered up his bow, quiver and arrow rack. "Good thing you're still too young to get married Brad, or else they'd be plotting against you too."

  "Let's hurry I'm dying in this heat. Have you still got your swim suit on, Brad? I hope so!" She squeezed his hand and her laugh tinkled like a happy bell.

  "How come you didn't come up and shoot some baskets with me? I didn't even know you where here until a few minutes ago. I was hot and went to get a Coke."

  "I don't like basketball."

  "You don't like it? How can you not like something as exciting as basketball?"

  "I don't know I just don't like it. I guess because I'm not any good at it."

  "That's okay. I know a lot of kids who aren't any good at fishing, skiing and other stuff you're good at.

  "We'd better hurry. I think someone is getting impatient."

  "Come on you slow pokes.” Joanna hollered from the shade of a clump of white birches on the corner of the bright green front lawn and graveled driveway.

  Brad didn't paid any attention to what Ginny wore until they reached the millpond and he watched her plain white blouse go flying onto the boulders under the trees. The shirt was followed closely by a pair of maroon basketball shorts to reveal a snug form fitting blue tank suit with a small modest skirt. He stopped and watched her step up onto the rocks which were overhanging the pond by the road. Her breasts were smaller than he had imagined them when he saw her in her gym clothes at school. Small but big enough to tweak his imagination and lock his eyes onto her suit top.

  Ginny turned and, smiling, threw Brad a visual challenge.

  Brad knew she had caught him staring at her boobs and the thoughts of his early morning dreams flooded him with guilt. Shame faced, and afraid one of the girls would see the bulge under his trunks or the red he felt run up his back and neck, Brad ran for the boulders and the safety of the pond.

  He threw himself from the highest boulder which happened to be the one next to where Ginny and Joanna were standing.

  A huge brown and white rock lay just under the surface directly below Brad's diving platform.

  Gut wrenching terrified screams escaped both women at the same time.

  "Brad! Lookout for the rock!"

  It was impossible to separate their voices, and Brad didn't care to as he cleaved a slice through the water in a long shallow dive which took him to the right of the highest part of the boulder and over where the water covered it the deepest. To anyone who didn't know it appeared as if he had crashed onto the top of the boulder.

  He surfaced in the middle of the pond and with long slow strokes swam towards the spillway and dam oblivious to the panic which had taken place behind him.

  He kept to himself until he saw them gather up their clothes. Joanna was walking by herself along the edge of the pond towards the dam. He swam to meet her and climbed onto the rocks next to the spillway.

  "She spoke barely loud enough to be heard above the rushing water. "What's the matter, Brad? Do you feel alright?"

  "I'm fine. There's nothing the matter."

  She looked at him with questions in her eyes.

  He knew Joanna well enough to realize that he wasn't going to get away with such an answer.

  Twice he started to speak. She waited and watched him patiently while he stared off to where the sisters had started walking up the dusty road towards home.

  "Girls scare me. I never know what to say. When I do say something they don't take me seriously."

  She studied his face. Brad could see her trying to make up her mind whether or not to pursue it further. "Are you afraid of me, Brad?"

  Brad could hear the concern in her voice and knew she cared. He thought about it before answering.

  "Not as a teacher but as a girl I am."

  "You're afraid of me as a woman? Really, Brad?"

  "Yes, ma'am." He wasn't sure she really believed him.

  She reached out for his hand but Brad stepped out around her.

  "We'd better catch up with the girls." He started up the path towards the road.

  "Brad?"

  "Yeah."

  He felt her reach for his hand only this time he was not successful in slipping away from her grasp. She held him firmly by his forearm.

  "Wait a minute. Please? I'd like to talk about this, Brad."

  He flipped his wrist and felt her soft warm touch slide from his forearm down across his wrist and off of his finger tips.

  "I don't! All the talk in the world won't do any good. It's a waste of time!"

  "That sounds like a quote to me. Who said that to you, Brad. Was it your father? Who Brad? Tell me."

  "My father hasn't said that many words to me at one time in my whole life. What makes you think it was him anyway?" He flung his words at her.

  He hurried up the path ahead of her but when he reached the top of the knoll he stopped and turned to see if she was behind him.

  She was still standing by the creek, a confused look on her face as she stared up at him. He could see she was deep in thought. Her green eyes were hidden behind half closed lids and long lashes, and although he wanted to leave he wouldn't leave her behind.

  Maybe she does believe me.

  It was several long seconds before she noticed him waiting. When recognition came she looked at him, smiled and started up the knoll towards him.

  They made no attempt to catch the Simpson girls. The woman and boy walked slowly up the gravel road in the late afternoon heat hand in hand. Each wanted to talk to the
other but neither was able to find the words they needed.

  I hope she isn't mad at me. I guess she is about the only teacher in the whole school who cares about me. Really, one of the few people in the whole world who care about me at all.

  Brad watched her out of the corner of his eye while they walked up the road.

  Boy, she's pretty. Damn! Why does she have to be older than I am?

  When they reached the Simpsons' yard Elinor and Ginny waited for them, but Brad cut across the lawn leaving Joanna without a word before they reached the girls.

  When he slowed down at the corner of the house, he heard the sounds of little girl giggles and whispers while they hurried across the lawn and up the front steps into the house.

  Brad walked slowly around to the back of the house where he knew he could find Charlie and Bud. Here he would be able to avoid everyone, and they would not even notice.

  "Here. Put this on, you're starting to shiver."

  He looked up at Elinor, but ignored the jean jacket she held in her hands.

  He felt her body heat and smelled the clean woman fragrance which was hers alone when she pushed him over with her hip and slipped into the padded wooden lawn chair next to him.

  "This chair wasn't made for two people, but since neither one of us are very big, I guess we'll fit. Even if it is a little tight." Elinor laughed her soft, quiet laugh as she pushed against Brad some more with her hip and thigh before trying to hang a jean jacket over his shoulders.

  "Put out your arm and I'll slip it on for you."

  Brad looked across the open pit barbecue to where everyone else was sitting in a cluster and chatting about who knows what. No one appeared to be paying any attention to what he and Elinor were doing.

  "Don't stand up, I can get it on you. Spoil sport." She chided him lightly. He saw her soft brown almond shaped eyes and pink lips smiling in the dusk.

  "So move over so I can sit back down." Brad liked the feel of her body against him, and in the evening chill their shared warmth was welcome to them both.

  They sat in a comfortable silence and listened to the conversations across the barbecue pit for a long time.

  "I don't understand." Brad broke their long silence poking Elinor softly in her ribs with his elbow as he spoke.

  "You don't understand what?"

  "You're older than Ginny, but your mother is married to Bud now. Maybe I'm a little slow. But the years and your ages don't add up that way." Brad laughed softly to himself.

  He shifted around and put his left arm across the back of the chair behind her shoulders.

  She reached up with her left hand and took hold of Brad's hand squeezing it lightly while pulling it down onto her shoulder.

  "My mom and dad never had a chance to get married before Dad was shipped overseas. Back to China. He was what they called a 'China Marine'. He had already done a tour in the interior of China.

  As soon as the Marine Corps figured out Mom was Japanese they started losing Dad's paperwork and generally making the marriage process pure hell."

  "Then they shipped him back to China?"

  "Yes. Mom was a student at Berkeley and he was stationed on Treasure Island as a brig chaser when they met in May of 1932.

  "They had finally got all the paperwork done the week before Thanksgiving in 1933. Daddy put in for leave over Christmas and they were planning to get married then.

  "On December first they loaded him on a ship for China."

  "And you were on the way?"

  "Yeah!" Elinor smiled and laughed happily. "I was the result of the last time they saw each other until ten years later."

  Ginny had drifted towards them from the other side of the fire. "The conversation is too dry over there. You know adults.

  "What were you guys talking about. You shut up. Something I'm not suppose to hear?"

  "Actually, I was telling Brad our life stories, Ginny."

  "Oh, fun! I love to shock people with it. It's just so unconventional most people either think I made it up, or else they think its immoral."

  Ginny sat down on the grass sideways in front of her sister. After she had settled herself she reached up with her right hand waving it slowly in front of her sister. Elinor took it. Still holding Ginny's hand and without thinking Elinor placed Brad's right hand on Ginny's and the three sat quietly holding hands.

  Brad felt the warmth of their clasped hands on his left knee. Pleased, he wished it could go on forever.

  "Where did she come from?" Brad pointed at Ginny with his chin and laughed.

  Brad had never felt this close to any girl before. Here he was with two. He knew each was his friend.

  "My mom was Dad's high school sweetheart. They graduated from high school in Nashua together but instead of getting married Dad wanted to go into the Marine Corps." Ginny answered for her sister.

  "And Mom wasn't hearing that, so she broke up with Dad when he was in boot camp." Ginny added.

  "He did a two year tour in China and came back to San Francisco. Actually, Treasure Island."

  Elinor picked up when Ginny stopped. "Then he met Yoshi, my mom.

  "Just before he was shipped back to China he had to take a prisoner from Treasure Island to Portsmouth Naval Prison.

  Ginny picked up the story's thread from Elinor. "My mom found out from his family and met him there. They had a kind of reunion. No! Nothing happened. Not then anyway. At least Dad swears to Yoshi it didn't." Ginny giggled and squeezed her sister's hand.

  "It took four years of letter writing and two years of living together at Camp Pendleton before you were more than a gleam in their eyes, Ginny.

  "After Ginny's mother died and the war started Dad began looking for my mom again. You have to remember, he didn't know anything about me.

  "I was almost ten before I met this huge white man and Mom told me he was my father. I always knew my dad was white and Mom made sure I knew he loved me very much, but the realization of it never came to me. It couldn't because I was always around Japanese people and never around any white people except the internment camp guards and supervisors.

  Even in the deepening twilight Brad could see the tears of remembrance sparkling in Elinor's eyes. He tightened his arm around her shoulders. She leaned against him wiping her damp cheeks on the shoulder of his wash softened jacket.

  The three sat quietly together for several minutes before Ginny broke the spell.

  "I'm cold. I'm going in and get my sweater."

  Brad and Elinor sat holding hands.

  Brad finally worked up his courage to tell Elinor something he had wanted to tell her since the day he had glimpsed her slim naked body pass through the patch of sunlight streaming in her open bedroom window.

  "I'm sorry you're so much older than I am, Elinor, because I love you."

  She turned to him and met his eyes. They were close enough to almost touch noses. She shifted her bare silky legs across his thighs and slid onto his lap locking her small hands behind his neck. She rested her forehead on his. She spoke in soft mellow tones. "I know exactly how you feel, Brad. I used to get so lonesome and felt like such an outcast in high school that I made a pass at a thirty year old guy. I never let him do anything to me but he sure wanted to. That was when the story about me being pregnant got started. When my mom heard about it she sat me down and we had a long talk. You became somewhat of a Simpson family hero and were my only real friend. I fell in love with you right then and there sitting at the kitchen table with my mom. A thirteen year old, eighth grade boy who was four years younger than a wise lady of seventeen and she was ready to throw herself into his arms."

  She stopped talking for several minutes and Brad could feel their tears mingling where their cheeks lightly touched.

  "You became the man I so desperately needed.

  "Thank you, Brad. Thank you for being my friend." Elinor's voice had deepened and softened to almost a murmur before she finally ki
ssed him firmly on the lips.

  "I'm going for a walk. Tell Joanna and Charlie I walked home, will you please?" His voice had become husky with emotions he had never felt before and could not recognize. "He'd better be good to you."

  "He is. Oh, yes, he is and we love each other deeply, Brad.

  "Good-bye my friend." Elinor said softly to Brad's back when he walked into the trees.

  TWELVE

  The summer hadn't worked out at all as Brad thought it should and looking back he thought it really stunk. All summer he had agonized over his loss of Elinor and his lack of courage for not asking Ginny to go out on a date. In his self imposed state of cowardliness Brad avoided the creek and most of his favorite fishing holes. They were all within walking distance of the Simpson's home and he couldn’t take the chance of running into Ginny. Brad's mind was in a turmoil as he attempted to comprehend all that was happening to him and around him.

  The last few days of vacation had been hell for him. He had anticipated the first morning of classes when he would get to school and find Ginny waiting for him on the front steps. He was terrified of the possibility of coming face to face with her but couldn't explain even to himself why he was so afraid to confront her. Nor could he understand why he felt so guilty about his thoughts and vivid dreams of her. It was not as if Ginny or anyone else could know what his private and innermost thoughts were, but why should he feel this much guilt about them? These were the thoughts that had plagued Brad all summer.

  The relief he felt was enormous when on the first morning of school he had scrutinized everyone around the front entrance and didn't see the familiar brown pixie haircut. His relief was short lived when he started sweating and worrying all over again. He realized the stay might only be temporary. She's already inside the school.

  For the rest of the week Brad skulked around the halls trying to stay one jump ahead of Ginny and was prepared to escape her notice when he encountered her. His relief finally came from an unexpected source.

  On the first day of school and during his first study hall of the year Brad had seized possession of his favorite study hall desk. It was in the far back corner between two sets of windows. Although he had been subjected to numerous dirty looks from the 'in-group', one of the high school's most distinctive sub-cultures, he ignored them as he slid down in the hard and uncomfortable wooden seat and tried to read more of James Michener’s Return To Paradise.