by Linda Ellen
The young people burst out laughing, including Louise.
“…And many moooooore,” the group warbled loudly, ending in amused chuckles as each one tried to outdo the other.
“So, how old are ya, honey?” Alec called out. “Ya legal yet?”
Everyone began calling out speculations and telling their own ages as Louise cast her eyes around, meeting Fleet’s. Her friend raised her eyebrows and tilted her head in silent communication.
Vic joined in the guessing game. “Let’s see…your sister’s nineteen…Sonny’s sixteen…so are ya eighteen yet, or did ya turn seventeen?” Vic teased, watching her press her lipstick coated lips together as she tried not to squirm. He wondered if she knew how attracted he was to her…and just how appetizing those lips were to him…
Before she could answer, Vic put back his head and laughed, “Oh I forgot, ya told me a lady never tells her age.”
“Well, alrighty then!” Earl chimed in with a laugh. Taking his eyes off the road and casting a glance past his girl, he added with a wink, “Keep ‘em guessin’, honey.”
Just then, the big car began to drift across the line as they passed an old Model T coming around the bend. The other car’s horn suddenly sounded a loud, “Aaaoooooooga!”
“Watch it!” Alec yelled from the back as the girls squealed in alarm.
Earl cut the wheel just in time, causing the hearse’s tires to bump the curb on the passenger side. The other driver stuck his fist out the window with a not-too-nice gesture and yelled obscenities their way.
“Keep your eyes on the road, man,” Vic cautioned as he tightened his hold on Louise. She and Ruth had both flung out a hand to steady themselves against the dash and now Louise was absently rubbing her wrist. Vic murmured in her ear, “You all right?”
She nodded, moistening her lips as her heart raced nearly out of control, from the near miss or Vic’s close proximity, she wasn’t sure which.
“Earl Franklin Grant, that was too close,” Ruth gasped, pressing a hand to her chest.
Earl nodded, letting go of the wheel with one hand and wiping his mouth as he fought to get his own heart rate under control. “Sure was. Sorry guys!” he added louder to his passengers in the back.
The near miss sent a hush over the startled group and for the next minute, they rode along in silence, each trying to still their hearts.
Finally, true to form, Alec quipped with a few choice words, “Aw, what we need is some levity in this here overgrown taxi,” and tipped back his head and yowled, “Oooooooooooh, he floats through the air with the greatest of ease…” as he launched into a rousing rendition of, The Daring Young Man on the Flying Trapeze. Immediately relaxing, the others joined in. Feeling just like the characters on the old bus in that famous scene from “It Happened One Night”, which they had all seen multiple times, the young people took turns singing verses, laughing, and teasing.
In this way, they whiled away the miles as the old hearse rolled along.
Earl, however, did make sure he didn’t get carried away in the levity and run off the road again, much to everyone’s relief.
*
It was late when the big black car pulled up to the house across the street from Fleet’s – a house that didn’t sport a red light on the porch. Louise had made the excuse that she had given Vic the wrong address. It was a double house, something like the one Louise’s family lived in, with a foyer, and an unlocked front door.
Vic opened the passenger door and allowed Louise to swing her legs out and stand up, following her as Alec was helping Fleet climb out the back.
“Lemme walk ya to the door, this ain’t exactly a good neighborhood,” Vic murmured in Louise’s ear, out of earshot of Fleet. Louise nodded mutely, feeling bad for yet another skirting of the truth.
The others had already been dropped off at their homes, leaving only Earl and Ruth in the front seat. The four young people strolled slowly up the walk, each couple holding hands.
For Vic, he hated that the evening had come to an end. It seemed to have flown by. Now, as they wandered to a stop at the porch steps and turned toward one another, he took Louise’s hands in his, feeling her shiver as the cold evening wind ruffled locks of her hair.
“When am I gonna see ya next?” he murmured softly, holding her close.
Louise felt as if she had stepped into a scene in a movie. Never had she thought she would experience the same sort of enchanting activities as she saw played out on the big screen down at the theater. Gazing up at Vic, the breeze fluffing the waves of his hair and the streetlamp illuminating his features, she could barely speak.
“Um…next Friday, I suppose,” she answered his question.
“Aww,” he pouted. “That’s a whole week…”
“I know…but Mama doesn’t like us to be out on school nights,” she answered, blanching as she said the word ‘school’.
He huffed a soft, frustrated sigh. “Well…bet you’ll be glad when you don’t have to worry about that anymore, huh?”
She nodded numbly.
Vic looked over his shoulder at their friends. Alec and Fleet had hit it off quite well, and were talking softly, their heads close together. Vic turned back to Louise and smiled. Releasing one of her hands, he raised his to her cheek. Without another word, he leaned down, drawing her close as his lips touched hers. The familiar sparks occurred, making them both draw in tiny gasps as they simultaneously leaned closer, melting into one another’s embrace, lips fusing together.
After several moments, Vic finally made himself pull back, watching as her eyes fluttered open. He smiled as his thumb touched the edge of her mouth. “Happy Birthday, sweet Mary Lou.”
“Thank you.” She smiled back, never having felt such sheer euphoric happiness in her life. “Tonight’s been the best birthday I’ve ever had.” Vic smiled fondly, glad that he’d been the one to bring that about.
Finally, the four said their goodnights and the guys watched the girls climb the steps and disappear safely inside the outer door before they ambled back to the car.
The girls waited, surreptitiously watching out a side window until the car moved on and eventually turned the corner. Feeling like fugitives, they quietly emerged and scooted across the street, slipping inside Fleet’s home.
As Louise turned toward the stairs, Fleet stopped her with a hand on her arm, murmuring, “Let’s not go up there.” Louise nodded, and followed her friend on into her grandmother’s living room. It was nearly midnight, and the house was dark and quiet.
Grabbing some blankets and pillows from a closet, they fashioned pallets for themselves on the floor in front of the small fireplace. Louise caught a whiff of the now familiar, unpleasant musk left from the water, but she steadfastly ignored it. Flopping down on their makeshift beds, she gushed in a loud whisper, “Oh Fleet, that was so much fun! I just had the time of my life!”
“Sure was,” Fleet agreed with a soft giggle.
“So, whatdya think of Alec?” Louise asked, though she had a good idea.
“Oh girl, I think he’s just the bee’s knee’s!” she exclaimed, causing both girls to giggle and clamp their hands over their mouths to keep down the noise.
“I’ll say,” Louise agreed, “he keeps the party goin’, that’s for sure.”
“I ‘bout died when he said he wanted us to have a pettin’ party.”
“Yeah…what did that mean, anyway?”
“Oh girl, you ain’t been nowhere, have ya,” Fleet teased. “It means neckin’ – you know, kissin’, huggin’…pettin’…”
Louise’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. “You mean…touching?”
Fleet laughed, enjoying her friend’s shock. “Yeah, but your man saved your virtue.”
Realizing what Vic’s comment had meant, Louise clamped her teeth on her bottom lip and grinned. “Yeah, he did, didn’t he.”
“I saw the way he looks at you. Girl, he’s got it bad!”
“Oh Fleet, do you think so, really?”
Louise gasped as she flopped over on her back to stare at the ceiling.
“Heck yeah! I got eyes, don’t I?”
Louise giggled, her mind reliving every wonderful moment of the evening…riding all around the county, laughing and singing, and telling ‘flood jokes’, and most of all, sitting within Vic’s embrace snuggled on his lap. The evening had been the most fun she’d ever had – and she hadn’t wanted it to end.
Making sure they kept their exuberance to a lower decibel, they spent the next thirty minutes whispering about their adventure with the gang, and the prospect of what the future could bring.
Eventually, Louise fell asleep, her dreams filled with strong arms, brown eyes, wavy hair, and dimpled smiles.
‡
CHAPTER 15
Song of the Old South
“Hello there, how’ve you been?” Irene Waller asked as she stopped on the street to talk with Vic. “Haven’t seen you since the water went down.”
Pulling back from their hug, Vic smiled at the sweet elderly woman. Having just that morning been through something traumatic, he wished for a moment that she had been his aunt or mother.
“I’m fine, Miss Irene,” he mumbled, but the astute little woman took one look into his eyes and could tell something was on his mind. With maternal concern, she smiled tenderly and gently touched the sleeve of his jacket. “Mmm hmm…would it help to talk about it?” Alone after her husband and their two sons had been killed in action in WW1, Irene thought how close she and the other ladies of the church had gotten with their ‘boys’ during the crisis. It was as if they all had known one another their entire lives. Just then, she was feeling particularly motherly toward Vic, her favorite. Having seen his care, courage, and potential first hand, she was thinking how proud she would be if he had been her son.
Vic clamped his teeth together and looked away for a moment, unaccustomed to sharing his emotions or thoughts. Indeed, most of his life he had been told to just ‘suck it up’ at each new heartbreak or rejection, to ‘get over it’ after each new instance of having the rug pulled out from under him. Once again, something unsettling had left him feeling as if he were spinning on ice…
With a grimace and a tiny shrug, he opened his mouth to deny there was anything wrong, but closed it again when he looked back and saw sincere concern in the old woman’s faded blue eyes. The gentle wrinkles around them crinkled a little more as she smiled at him encouragingly.
Taking a deep breath, he murmured, “Nothin’ much, just I’m homeless…again.”
“Homeless?” she immediately responded, tugging him over a little closer to the building to allow people to pass by. “Good heavens, son, what happened?”
Glancing around uncomfortably and meeting curious eyes, Vic related to the kind woman that he had mustered his fortitude and gone to his brother’s apartment that morning, having avoided it for the duration of the emergency. She nodded, remembering the bit of information he had shared before about his family. He went on to relate that no one had been home, but he had used his key to get in. There he had found that someone, probably his sister-in-law, had unceremoniously deposited all of his things – his clothes, duffle bag, and his few remaining personal items – into a not-so-neat pile out on the apartment’s tiny balcony. The sight had hit him like a punch in the gut. The message was clear. He wasn’t welcome there anymore. He supposed he was lucky Liz hadn’t just chucked the whole lot in the trash bin. “And the real kicker is…today’s my birthday,” he finished with a wry grimace at the cruel quirk of fate.
Irene, her gentle heart aching, reached to take one of his hands in hers as she wondered what kind of people they, his co-called ‘family’, were to treat such a wonderful young man like that. “Oh Vic…to tell you ‘Happy Birthday’ seems almost harsh…do you have somewhere to go?” she asked softly.
Meeting her eyes again, he managed a tiny smile. “Yeah…a friend – you remember, I told ya about Alec Alder and his family…” he paused as she nodded, remembering the sadness he had displayed the day he had helplessly watched their home slowly being destroyed. “They said I could stay with them for a while.” At her look of confusion, he went on, “They lost nearly everything in the flood, but somebody helped ‘em get a furnished apartment so they could start over.” His thoughts turned for a moment to the evening before, when he had visited the family in their new digs and he had had the pleasure of presenting Mrs. Alder with the item he’d retrieved that cold wet day on the boat – the sepia-toned photograph of the family.
Mrs. Alder had taken one look at it and with a gasp, practically burst into tears. Reaching out, she had clasped it to her chest and shut her eyes. “Oh Vic… I… I can’t tell you what this means to me…” she had stammered. “I had thought all of our family mementoes were gone forever…” He had apologized that he hadn’t been able to rescue more items, but she had tearfully shaken her head and reached out with one arm to draw him into a hug, thanking him profusely.
Irene nodded, relieved. “Well, that’s good that you have a place to go. So, have you found work, yet?”
He shrugged again. “Not really, but I been makin’ a little money here and there when I can, workin’ on the clean-up.” He paused a moment, his eyes twinkling when he thought of the other things he’d been doing.
Irene noticed and astutely asked, “Have you seen the girl again?”
He smiled and gave a chuckle. “Yep. We’re datin’ now,” he acknowledged.
“That’s wonderful! Louise…right?” Irene prompted, remembering when he had mentioned he was concerned about the girl and her family, and where they had gone.
He nodded, picturing Louise as he had seen her several nights before. “Yep.”
“Well, I’ll be praying everything works out for you, son. I’d say you were due some good fortune.”
“Maybe,” Vic responded a bit doubtfully. Changing the subject, he inquired, “You been doin’ okay since the flood?”
Blessing him with her angelic smile, she nodded. “Oh yes. Busy as a honeybee in June. And speaking of that, I should get moving – I need to buy some ingredients for several dishes I’m making tonight, for a potluck supper at church. You’re welcome to come – there’ll be plenty of good food,” she added hopefully.
He hesitated for a moment, wanting to go, but the thought of showing up and not knowing anyone but a couple of old ladies seemed uncomfortable. The truth was, he had never been to church, and had no idea what went on there. The only encounters he’d ever had with church people had usually turned out badly…except for Miss Irene and the other ladies during the crisis.
Irene watched his expression and guessed what he was feeling. With a gentle squeeze to his arm, she murmured, “Well, you think about it. Dinner is at 6:30. It’s come-as-you-are,” she added softly.
He pursed his lips and gave a nod. “I might,” was all he would promise.
He watched as she gave an answering nod and a farewell before turning to continue on down the street to attend to her errands.
Deep in thought, he turned the opposite way and ambled on down the street to pick up something at the market for Mrs. Alder to make for his ‘birthday dinner’.
I’m finally turnin’ twenty-one…some celebration.
*
Louise spent her days alternating between cloud nine, nervous anticipation, and the fear of discovery. She was in so deep by that point that she didn’t know how she was ever going to unravel the crochet of lies she had fashioned of the situation. She’d even tried asking God’s forgiveness, but since she intended to keep up the ruse, she felt like a low down hypocrite asking for ‘permissive forgiveness’. But it was as if she were under the influence of a very powerful addiction that she just couldn’t shake – like a wino that would do anything for one more drink. For her, that wine was Vic Matthews.
Preparations for the play had proceeded nicely, and Mrs. Herndon finally set a date for a Saturday in March. They even had tickets printed. Cost of admission was ten cents. The ca
st was assigned the task of selling the tickets, with the intended proceeds going toward new sporting equipment for the center.
Vic made sure he was Louise’s first sale, followed by her family, their landlady, and the elderly man who lived in the apartment across the hall. She made the rounds to several of her teachers at school, and also Mr. Hudson, who gladly handed over a dime. The rest of her supply of tickets she talked her brother into hawking, for as Willis always said, Sonny could sell an icebox to an Eskimo.
Two Friday evenings were spent with Vic listening fondly as Louise regaled him with ‘play’ stories and her aggravations at home, and with her listening in turn to his frustrations over not being able to find gainful employment. Her ruse holding, everything was moving along at a nice pace.
Finally, the night of the play arrived…
“Are they here yet?” Louise whispered as Fleet peeked through the curtain. Having been too nervous to look for herself, she’d begged her friend to keep an eye out for her family…and for him.
“Nope,” Fleet mumbled, allowing the curtain to fall back into place. Turning to her friend, Fleet smiled and gave her a quick hug. “Don’t worry,” she murmured. “You’ll do fine. Remember, it’s just another of those endless rehearsals,” she added with a teasing wink.
“Oh don’t say that, considering what happened last week,” Louise returned, rolling her eyes. She cringed as she remembered being in the middle of the closing song and feeling her skirt drop to the floor around her ankles as the pin holding the waist had snapped open.
Fleet laughed and shook her head. Reaching out to tug on her friend’s costume, a many-layered, hoop-skirted affair that was securely tied on, she murmured, “That won’t happen with this get-up. Just concentrate on your lines and follow Herman’s lead,” she added soothingly.
They moved over as several youngsters rushed by behind them, frantically searching for props or parts of their costumes.
“Oh, what am I gonna do if he comes?” Louise breathed, swallowing nervously. “But then, if he doesn’t…”