by Brown, Dick
Rick and Wil looked at each other as if to say ‘you go first.’
“I told Wil he didn’t have to go down to the barn last night,” Rick said in a halting voice. “I would do the last cleanup by myself. Mr. Nestlebaum came down to the barn after I cleaned it.”
“And why was he there?” Mary Beth chimed in. “Was Ann down there with you?”
“She has been coming down to keep us company and to stay away from Mr. Nestlebaum,” Rick continued. “We weren’t doing anything wrong or anything. He treats her terrible all the time, so she liked to come down and help us. You heard how mean he can be.”
“I believe you, son.” Mary Beth paused. Her eyes were as cold as morning frost. “But you need to sit down and tell me everything that happened.”
“He was drunk and was going to hurt Ann,” Rick blurted out. “When he tried to grab a pitchfork, he fell against the stall wall, hit his head, and passed out. We covered him with a blanket and let him sleep it off. We didn’t know what else to do.” Rick sighed and diverted his eyes away from his mother’s.
“Didn’t know what else to do?” Mary Beth said in a rising tone. “You could have come and told your father and me. Don’t you realize he could have frozen to death as cold as it was last night? Not that he doesn’t deserve it, the way he treats that family, but you should have come to us. Roy, you take Rick over there and have him apologize for not helping him get back home and I’ll clean this mess up.” She snatched the broom from Rick.
Roy shook his head and closed the door. “Mary Beth, I know you’re upset, but I don’t think that’s such a good idea right now. I’ll talk to Red about it tomorrow after he’s calmed down. Now, let’s all settle down and finish cleaning up the kitchen without breaking any more dishes.”
“What did he say to you Saturday morning?” Rick asked as he walked to school with Ann Monday morning.
Ann was sullen and unresponsive. After a few minutes, Rick took her hand and apologized for getting her into any trouble.
“It’s not your fault,” Ann said. “He was really mad but didn’t hit me. Sometimes his tongue-lashings are worse than if he’d hit me. He can just strip you down to your bare soul with his vile cussing. He said I was a whore and slut just like my mother. Momma just stood there and took it. She always makes excuses for him when he gets drunk, saying it was just the whisky talking, he really didn’t mean it.”
Rick didn’t know what to say. His parents shouted at him when he did things he knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t understand how Red would treat such a wonderful daughter like Ann that way.
“I hate him,” Ann said, “but I can’t leave because of what he might to Momma and Jo Lee.” Squeezing Rick’s hand, she turned to face him. She stared into his questioning eyes. “You’re the only good thing I’ve got in my life. If it weren’t for you, I’d go crazy.”
Rick crushed Ann against him in an embrace that lasted several minutes and ended with a kiss.
“Whew, look at Romeo,” a kid taunted as a group of students walked by.
“Smack, smack. Kiss her one for me,” another chided.
When their lips parted, tears rolled down Ann’s cheeks as if trying to drown the big smile that lit up her face.
“I want to take care of you for the rest of our lives, and never let anyone hurt you again,” Rick said. “We can start by going to the Homecoming Dance after the game Friday night.”
Ann nodded and wiped away her tears, which made Rick feel like he’d done something right again.
There was a new spring in Rick’s step as they walked hand-in-hand the rest of the way to school.
Chapter 4
“Each employee had the opportunity to buy a lot for a bargain of $100 to build his house on . . .”
Homecoming
After supper, Ann hid in the room she and Jo Lee shared, sewing a button on her blouse, waiting for Red to drink himself into a stupor.
Jo Lee tapped on the door to signal it was okay for Ann to come out. “He’s asleep on the couch. If he wakes up, I’ll tell him you went to bed early.”
“Thanks.” Ann gave her not-so-little sister a hug and slipped out the front door to meet Rick.
It was her first Homecoming date. Rick knew Ann’s worn winter coat wouldn’t keep her warm sitting in the cold, damp bleachers. He brought a wool blanket they could wrap up in to fight off the cold.
Rick scribbled notes of the game’s action, which were mostly about Tank Johnson. His hands were so cold his fingers could hardly hold a pen steady enough to write. Only Ann’s face was exposed, and her nose was beet red.
The halftime was shortened because the cold temperature froze up the valves in some of the instruments. The Homecoming Queen and her court braved the weather in their formal evening gowns for a quick crowning ceremony then fled to the sidelines for their warm blankets.
The game wasn’t a contest, forcing Rick to write up the touchdown clinic Tank put on for the visiting college coaches. As soon as the final whistle sounded, he and Ann headed for the exit.
The family car, a 1947 Fleetline Chevrolet, felt like a refrigerator. Ann kept the blanket wrapped around her even with the heater blowing full force. The ride to the gymnasium for the dance was too short for the car to get very warm.
Rick beamed at Ann and pressed her snugly against him as they danced in the darkest corner of the gym. Her nose was back to its natural color and the feeling had returned to their numb fingers.
“You should have been crowned Homecoming Queen tonight. You’re prettier than any of those stuck-up girls.”
Ann laughed. “I’m not in any click.” She snuggled even closer to Rick. “And nobody ever wins who isn’t miss popularity,” she whispered in his ear, making his body shiver.
After a few dances, they sat down. Rick wanted to check his notes of the big game and half-time crowning of the new Homecoming Queen for the next issue of the Railroader while it was still fresh in his mind.
“It was too cold to be parading around out there tonight in a formal,” Ann said. “You might as well be walking around naked.”
“Too bad it wasn’t a more exciting game. Thirty-four points in the first half was too one-sided, even if we were winning. Everybody knows you always pick the weakest team on the schedule for homecoming.”
“How can you say that? Tank Johnson ran wild against Fair Grove. He scored four touchdowns and kicked two field goals. I think that’s pretty exciting, and I heard there were some college scouts there to watch him play.”
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about. Not only do I have to write about his great game, I have to listen to him brag about it all week about the college scouts fighting over him.
“Do I detect a hint of jealousy in there somewhere?” Ann teased.
“He’s a good player, I’ll give him that. But off the field, he’s a real jerk. If you think he’s so great you should hear some of the things he’s said about you,” Rick said in a terse tone.
“What could he possibly say about me? He doesn’t even know I exist,” Ann shot back.
“Oh yes he does and he just does it to get my goat. He thinks he can get away with anything because he’s such a football hero. His big-shot daddy runs the Shops and most of what goes on in this town.” Rick’s sarcasm gave way to a smile. “He’s going to get his comeuppance one of these days, and I want to be there to see it.”
Ann scooted her chair closer to Rick’s. “Read me what you’ve got written so far.”
“’The merciless slaughter continued in the second half,’” Rick read. “’The Railroaders were ahead sixty-two to six with the ball on Fair Grove’s twenty-yard line. There was less than a minute on the scoreboard clock, and it looked like they could score again.’”
Ann giggled and held onto Rick’s arm.
Rick shook his head. “I don’t understand why Coach Marshal didn’t clear the bench and play everybody. He ran up the score to make Tank and himself look good in front of the scouts.”
“Sounds like reason enough to me,” Ann said.
“’There was a bad exchange from center on the next play,’” Rick continued reading. Quarterback T.R. Queen fell on the loose ball. Tank immediately called time out with only fifteen seconds left in the game.’” Rick had placed a large exclamation point after that line in his notebook. “I couldn’t believe it,” Rick growled. “Why didn’t he just let the clock run out?”
“Why are you telling me all this?”
“If I don’t get it out of my system now, I might write it up like that in the paper.”
Rick went back to reading his notes. “’Everyone knew when Tank came over to the sidelines and talked to Coach Marshal, waving his arms and pointing toward Fair Grove’s goal post, they were going to go for it. Tank rejoined the huddled team to give them the play. Steam rose like a low cloud above the huddle, seeping out from around the player’s necks and through the ear holes of their helmets.
“’They broke from the huddle and ambled to the line of scrimmage. The Railroaders lined up for a field goal attempt. The standing room only crowd leapt to its feet, cheering as Tank’s kick sailed just inside the left upright. The PA announcer led the hysterical fans counting the clock down, “Four . . . three . . . two . . . one!” The Bankstowne Railroaders had set an all-time school scoring record in beating Fair Grove sixty-five to six!’”
Rick slammed his notepad shut. “This is making me sick,” he said, making a gagging noise. “I’ll finish it over the weekend. Let’s have some fun now that we’re thawed out.”
Rick took Ann’s hand and danced her slowly around their dark corner to In the Mood, the revived music of Glenn Miller from the recent movie, The Glenn Miller Story. It was the perfect background music, intensifying feelings welling up inside the young couple on a special night.
“It feels so good being here with you,” Ann purred, resting her head against Rick’s shoulder.
Loud voices and cheers erupted in the middle of the dance floor.
“Would you look at that,” Rick said. “They’re mobbed around Tank like he was some kind of movie star.”
Ann nudged him. “As editor of the school paper, don’t you think you should go over and add your congratulations?”
“Yeah, I guess so. I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Oh no you don’t. I’m going with you.”
They worked their way through the crowd to the inner circle around Tank.
“Well, if it isn’t the little man with the notebook. How’d I do tonight? Think you’ll have enough ink to print the game I played?” Tank chided. “If you weren’t able to get all the details down, I can help you out Monday in homeroom.”
“Don’t worry, I got it all down. One question though, why didn’t you let the clock run out instead of adding a cheap field goal at the end?”
“Are you kidding? We still had time to score. That’s the name of the game, little man. Every play is designed to score, and we just about did that tonight,” Tank boasted. “I just couldn’t pass up one last chance to put more points on the board. How many high school football players do you know that have scored sixty-five points in one game? Most don’t score that many in four years. Do you think that those college scouts were paying attention?” Tank smirked, turning his attention to Ann.
“To bad Fair Grove spoiled your perfect game by scoring a touchdown,” Rick said. “Says more about the character of that team than kicking a field goal with seven seconds left when you’re ahead by fifty-six points.”
Rick and Ann turned to leave, sensing the crowd was getting hostile to his attitude.
“Don’t rush off, little man. Why not ask your girlfriend how she liked the game. What about it Ann, do you think I did wrong kicking that last field goal?”
Ann shrank away from Tank, but the crowd had moved in to make it difficult for her and Rick to just walk away. “I guess it was okay. Coach called the play, didn’t he?”
“There you have it, little man. Even your girlfriend agrees with me. Guess that makes it unanimous,” Tank said, putting his arm around Ann, quickly kissing her hard on the lips. She tried to turn her head and push him away, but he was much too strong. Rick lunged at Tank but was held back by Tanks circle of friends.
When Ann tried to turn her face away from him, Tank held her head tight between his strong hands. He swabbed her ear with his tongue and said, “A pretty girl like you can do better than a guy like him.” He pressed Ann against him with his massive arms before releasing her back to Rick with a shove. “If you need to leave early to write up your game report, I’ll be glad to take Ann home for you.” Tank threw his head back, laughing. He blew Ann a kiss before returning to his crowd of friends.
Rick pulled Ann through the crowded dance floor to get their coats. “Let’s go. I can’t stand being in the same room with that creep. Did he hurt you?”
“No, and we shouldn’t let him ruin our night. Let’s stay a little longer, at least for one more dance before we go.”
“And have to put up with that jerk cutting in to make a fool of me again? No thanks. Unless you’d rather take him up on his offer.”
“I can’t believe you even asked me that. You’re right, let’s get out of here while we’re still speaking to each other.”
The car was as silent as a graveyard all the way to Wink’s Barbeque.
“Two hamburgers, a large order of fries and two Cokes,” Rick snapped at the curb hop then turned to Ann. “I’m sorry, but he really gets under my skin. I wanted to kill him when he grabbed you and kissed you. He thinks he can—”
Ann’s lips covered Rick’s before he could finish the sentence. The bulge in the crotch of his kakis fought to free itself when her tongue explored his mouth and her firm young breast pressed against him.
“Did you want catsup with these fries?” The curb hop interrupted their passionate making out when he hung the tray on the door.
“Uh, sure. Fries aren’t any good without catsup,” Rick said after taking a gasp of air. He paid the curb hop, giving him a generous twenty-five cent tip.
Ann leaned over again, rubbing her breasts against him, “I’m not hungry. Let’s take the food and go,” she said, caressing his ear.
Rick didn’t need more motivation than that. They took their food and were on the road in a minute.
Ann’s right hand worked its way inside the front of his kakis and grasped his swollen cock while he tried to keep the car on his side of the yellow centerline.
Rick turned off the headlights and parked a safe distance from the apartment house. He grabbed their game blanket, and they crept quietly around the building, down to Carnes’ barn.
It was colder now than at the game. The old barn provided little protection from the frigid air, but they didn’t feel anything but the warmth of hot blood pumping through their bodies.
“Let’s get under the blanket before we freeze.” He threw Bossie’s old blanket on the straw-covered floor, the same one they’d covered her father with. Rick wrapped the other blanket around Ann. She had already started removing her blouse. Rick awkwardly unhooked Ann’s bra with shaking hands and caressed her soft breasts while she lowered his slacks. Their lips searched for each other’s pleasure points.
“On my neck. There. That’s it,” Ann moaned. Her body quivered. She pulled Rick down on top of her and spread her legs then guided him with her hand.
“Are you okay?” Rick asked, his breathing heavy.
When Ann nodded, he thrust into her. Her pain washed away in a wave of emotion that surged through her body. She shrieked in response to violent thrusts that almost bounced Rick off her. His hungry lips found her ni
pples as she arched her back to press them hard against his mouth. Rick responded to her writhing body by pumping against her thrusts with all his energy. Ann moaned softly and continued undulating her hips even after Rick had unloaded all his pent up desires.
All was quiet, and the blanket that only moments before rose and fell like angry waves crashing on a beach at high tide was calm as if the tide had ebbed out to sea. Two exhausted bodies lay entwined, seeking each other’s warmth.
Piercing the blackness surrounding them, a white shaft of light found its way through the partially-open door to cast a silhouette of the two young lovers against the barn wall.
“I wish we could stay here forever,” Ann whispered into Rick’s ear while pressing her still-tingling body against his.
Only then did the lovers begin to feel the cold night air as it crept beneath the blanket.
Chapter 5
“As the houses sprang up, street lights lined the newly paved streets. Running water and indoor plumbing: all the modern conveniences a man could hope for . . .”
The big move
“These rooms are certainly large,” Mary Beth said to Miss Gobble, their prospective landlord. “The boys will finally have their own room to stretch out in.”
Roy was more interested in whether the bathroom was heated or not.
When they reached the end of a long, center hall, Mary Beth said, “Look Roy, the bathroom has a kerosene heater. I guess it will be taking you longer to bathe and get ready for supper now.”