Golden Boy

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Golden Boy Page 21

by R. G. Lawrence


  "I don't know about all that. What I do know is that she opened my eyes up to a whole new world. And she talked to me like no girl has ever talked to me. And yeah, she's my friend, a friend I'm going to keep...that's what I know for sure, that she's my friend."

  They had arrived at a clearing, Jody pulling Andy down to sit in the grass beside her. "I hope you didn't get too upset with me, coming down so hard on you about Rodney, letting him go, that stuff. I know how much you were hurt, how much you've always been hurt by his death. But it does absolutely nobody any good to keep rehashing those memories. I miss him, too, God, so much. When I look at the old pictures from St. Luke's, sometimes I end up bawling like a baby. He's the only boy I ever had a crush on. I get like that when I think about Tammy sometimes, too. I've never loved someone so much and hated them at the same time like I did that damn girl."

  "That's a name I haven't heard in a long time," Andy said. "What ever happened to Tammy? Boy, did she ever have it bad for Rod. She used to drive him crazy, calling him all the time, coming on to him. He liked it, you know, at first, but didn't know what to do about it. It was funny, but sad, too. Is she still in Radford?"

  "No. It was something that both Susie and I saw coming, but Tam wouldn't listen to us. We told her she was being stupid, always messing around like she was doing, you know, with guys and stuff. She told us to mind out own business, to butt out. Then, junior year, at Fall Ball, she took this guy from Mailer, Barry Montell, a real creep. His dad is a foreman or something at the mill. Barry was a doper. He didn't have the grades to get into Tower. He wouldn't have lasted there, anyway."

  Andy was listening closely, curious as to what had happened to another friend gone bad. "I remember that guy. Didn't he get arrested for selling drugs last year?" he asked. "Kind of greasy looking guy, long hair and about ten earrings?"

  "Yep, that's the one, total zero. Anyway, that year, at Junior Fall Ball, instead of going to the damn dance, they spent the night at the Manchester Motel. All night. Tam ended up pregnant. You knew that, right?" The redhead wiped a tear out of her eye, the memories of her pal conjuring up more sadness.

  He shook his head. "I heard that, but I didn't pay much attention. I was too wrapped up in school, I guess. Maybe I half expected it."

  "I know. Me too. So anyway, she quit school and had this baby, a little boy, a beautiful baby. Of course Barry denied that the baby was his, wouldn't even talk to Tam. She was living at home with this baby and her folks, working part time at her dad's restaurant, living in the basement, and...and she got pregnant again, I mean right away, didn't miss a beat. No clue to who the father was this time. Her parents told her she had to get out on her own; they couldn't afford to raise her two kids and their own kids. So she left, left town with these two little babies, both of them still in diapers. We didn't hear from her for a couple of months, and then both Susie and I got graduation cards from her, from somewhere in California. She sent a picture of the two kids, gorgeous children, look just like her. So Susie calls Mrs. Pelfry, you know, to find out how Tam is."

  She was crying hard now, deep, gut-wrenching sobs violently shaking her thin frame.

  "Oh shit, Andy, she's got AIDS the HIV thing, not full-blown AIDS. But she will, she'll develop it sometime. She's gonna die, and those two babies aren't even gonna have a mother. Mrs. Pelfry made us promise not to tell anyone. I don't know what happened, what went wrong. She grew away from us so fast and we tried so hard to be her friend. While we spent the last two years getting our high school diplomas, she had two beautiful little illegitimate babies and got a terminal disease."

  Andy put his arms around the girl, holding her close to him, letting her cry her hurt out on his shoulder. "You know something, Jody, you've been the best looking girl in Radford since we were in grade school, that's a fact, but you've never looked so good, so damn beautiful, as you do right now." His soft tone that of a good friend, a friend speaking the truth.

  She hugged him tightly, burying her head in his chest. "Oh Andy, I miss them, too, both of them. We've been so lucky, me and you and Susie. God, I hope things turn out for you. Whatever it is you want, I hope it turns out the way you want."

  "I don't have a clue to what I want, Jody. I suppose that's why I didn't want to mess with your Wizard. I wanted to, but I think I'm scared of what I'd see. I want to go to Annapolis, I want to be a pilot so damn bad, and I want to get away from home, away from my parents, away from the idea of driving past Rodney's house every day…and away from that Golden Boy bullshit. Annapolis is all I've concentrated on since, well, since Rod died. He'd probably think I was crazy, wanting the military as a career. Before, when we were sophomores, all we ever talked about was going to college together, playing ball in college, making the pros."

  "Do you want to take a peek, Andy?"

  "I'm scared, Jody, scared that I might find out I failed, and that I didn't cut it. I don't want to go ten years in the future and find out I'm Mr. Pelfry's assistant manager at the hamburger place. Or working shifts at Turners. I'm so damn scared of being a failure, you know, after living as Radford's poster boy for so long. The Golden Boy, what a joke. This Golden Boy is scared to death, scared of ending up in the steel mill, working 40 hour weeks, then going to the bar after work with the guys, drinking boilermakers and talking about how great high school was. I don't want that. I don't want to fail, Jody, I’m so scared of failing.”

  "Let me help you, Andy. I can do it for you. If you want to go, I can do it for you, up here, just me and you. Nobody ever has to know. He told me if you want, if you want to go, that I could send you." Her voice was soft, her lips not moving, the words clear in Andy's head, soothing, penetrating.

  "How, how can you do it? Doesn't it have to be him?"

  "If you want it, I'll do it. Close your eyes Andy. Just close your eyes and think about the time you want to see, concentrate on it, concentrate on it, listen to me, Andy, that's it, that's exactly it."

  As the boy was moving toward the fog, he could still hear her voice, the soft sweet sound of the redhead's voice.

  "Andy, oh Andy, you are the Golden Boy, aren't you," she whispered, cradling his head in her lap, stroking his hair, holding him as he became lost, lost in the thick fog, taking his trip, the final trip of the night.

  34

  The palm tree was a dead giveaway that he was no longer in Radford, Sunset Lake having no palm trees of record. Andy looked around, wondering if it was all a dream, the palm trees, the sky-blue ocean, the white sanded beach. And the bikinis. Everywhere he looked, bikinis. Jody, I don't know how you did this, but thank you, he chuckled to himself. Don't beam me up quite yet.

  The boy was sitting on a bench overlooking a scene straight off a picture postcard. Must be a public beach, he thought. It's too crowded to be a private stretch. There were hundreds of people frolicking around in the sand and water, Andy amazed at the current fashion of swim-wear. Or lack of it. Best seat in the house, he thought. I could stay here all day long. Pulling himself back to reality, he decided that he better find out where he was, when it is, what he was doing here, and what exactly he was supposed to be doing. When he was a freshman in high school, he and Rodney and Tony Littleton had taken a vacation with Rod's parents to Florida. If he remembered correctly, the east cost of Florida had brown sand, the Gulf Coast white. This was white, really white sand. Of course, there was no guarantee that this was Florida. It could as easily be Hawaii or California. Or Australia.

  He reached in his pocket, checking first to see how much cash he had in his wallet. He counted a little over a hundred dollars, reached in the little compartment that was secreted in the back of his wallet, pulled out the two bills he knew were there, and all totaled, had three hundred and some odd dollars. Not a lot, but probably enough to get around on.

  Good. I'm not broke, he told himself. Now, let's find out where I am. Standing, he decided to walk in the direction of the beach-front hotels, lined side-by-side for as far down the beach as he could see, scouting a
round for a vacant phone booth. Spotting one, he hurried toward it, only to get beat by a yard by a tall, absolutely gorgeous blonde attired in the skimpiest white swimsuit Andy had ever imagined. The top part of the outfit covered, but just barely, the tips of her smallish, uptilted breasts, a few strings holding it all together somehow, the laces coming together behind her neck in a bow. The bottom of the outfit had no back save a tiny piece of material lost somewhere in the crevice of a sculpted, wonderful derrière, the front probably challenging the decency statutes of whatever city they were in. The white bikini highlighted the girl's deep brown tan, her blue eyes sparkling in amusement at the pleasure of beating Andy in the race to the phone booth. Her blue, dangling earrings matched the hint of mascara outlining her eyes, her long, manicured nails painted a bright red hue.

  Her smile melted him, stopped him in his tracks. She left the door open, leaving the boy with a full-length view of her backside, pacifying his impatience at finding where he was, spending the time trying to figure out where the back of the suit was located. She took a coin out of her bag, deposited it in the phone, and punched in a series of numbers. Andy stood back and admired the view as she went through her motions.

  Apparently the party she was calling was not at home, the girl hanging up the phone after only a few moments. "It's all yours," she said when exiting the booth, smiling at him impishly.

  Andy smiled back, wishing it was all his, grabbed for the phone book, and turned it around to look at the cover. Fort Walton Beach was printed in black letters on the front. Florida, he told himself, I thought so. Leaving the phone booth, his mind on what to do next, he almost bumped into the blonde, who had remained several feet way.

  "No luck?" she asked.

  Andy looked up, stopping quickly before he knocked her down. "God, I'm sorry," he said. "My mind was a thousand miles away. What did you say?" He knew he was staring, tried to get control of his eyeballs, jerk them away from her beautiful boobs. With a superhuman effort, he finally pulled them up, looking the girl in the eyes.

  "I asked you if you had any luck? With the phone? You didn't stay in there very long."

  "No. I really just wanted to see where I was. I think I'm lost, believe it or not."

  "You in the Air Force?" she asked.

  "No. Why? Are there a lot of Air Force guys around here?"

  She rolled her eyes skyward, suddenly thinking maybe she was talking to a slightly retarded child. "Only the largest base in the world," she answered. "Air force, Army, Rangers, Navy pilots, everything comes in and out of Fort Walton...hello...duh...Eglin Air Force Base. The whole military ends up here at one time or another, like a crossroads. You really are lost, aren't you?"

  Her tone suddenly changed, a hint of concern replacing the derision. "Did you get hit in the head?"

  "No, not today. Not yet, but the days still young. Really, I'm okay, I think I need to find a newspaper," he said. "Hey, it was nice talking to you," he added, starting away.

  He hadn't got five feet when she was on him, catching hold of his sleeve. "Hey, wait. Listen, I've got a room up there, in that hotel. Do you want to come up, I can get a paper. I was going back to have lunch. Are you hungry?"

  "I'm starved. Are you sure you don't mind?" He suddenly realized that he was famished. This time travel must give a person a heck of an appetite. And he snapped that this girl seemed to be trying to pick him up.

  "Come on," she said, taking him by the hand, pulling him along toward the hotel. She suddenly stopped, releasing his hand and staring into his eyes. "Hey, you're not a killer or anything, are you?"

  "Me. God, no," he sputtered. He saw the glint in her eyes, realized she was pulling his chain. "I haven't killed anyone in, oh, probably three hours or so. How's that?"

  "Perfect. Come on," she laughed gaily, satisfied he was harmless.

  They entered the building through the front door, crossed the crowded lobby and stepped into the elevator. The girl punched the 14, stood back, and looked at Andy. "I'm Jan," she said, extending her hand. "I suppose we should know each other. You know, going up into my hotel room and all," she laughed.

  "Hi. I'm Andy. Andy Webster. I'm really glad to meet you. Oh shit, oh excuse me, I mean shoot, I could have got a paper in the lobby." She was laughing at him, making him realize how clumsy he was acting.

  "Are you nervous?" she asked. "You don't have to be. Just relax. I'll have them bring up a newspaper with lunch. Room service sounds like what the doctor ordered. You're lost and I'm exhausted from the beach. I actually swam today."

  "Isn't that what normal people do at the beach?" he asked with a straight face.

  "Yeah, but I'm far from normal," she shot back, taking a key out of her bag, unlocking the door and leading the boy inside the room. It was a suite, a living room, bath and bedroom. Pretty nice, Andy noted.

  "What sounds good?" she asked, picking up the phone.

  "Whatever you think," he answered, and listened to her order hamburgers, salads and ice tea. She hung up the phone, picked it up again and told the service to bring a newspaper along with the food.

  "I'm going to take a shower. If the food gets here, add a twenty percent tip and sign for it, okay," she said over her shoulder, going through the bedroom door, untying the top of her suit, dropping the thin material to the floor on her way, giving Andy a quick peek of those lovely breasts as she turned and shut the door behind her, that mischievous grin on her face.

  Is this heaven? he thought with a giggle. I think I love Florida.

  The food was delivered in fifteen minutes, rolled into the room on a tiny cart, a newspaper folded on the side. He added the tip, signed the bill, and knocked on the door, yelling, "Foods here."

  "Almost finished," she called back.

  Andy grabbed the paper, unrolled it, and looked at the date, shocked, suddenly remembering why he was here, and the strange, unreal circumstances that had delivered him to Florida. The date brought him up short. August 15, 2023. Thirteen year, he whispered to himself. Damn, Jody, you really did it.

  "You haven't started yet?" Jan asked as she came out of the bedroom. Andy looked up and caught his breath. She was wearing a pair of mauve running shorts, a white tank top minus bra, and tennis shoes. Her finger nails were painted a white on white, her makeup only a touch of blush and pale lipstick accenting her natural beauty. She looked wonderful, fresh and young, reminding Andy of the three girls he had left behind at the lake.

  "No, I was waiting on you," he replied, setting the paper down. They dug into the meal, the hamburgers not too bad, the salad fresh, and the tea weak, typical room service fair. They made small talk while eating, trying to get to know each other. Andy discovered that she was two years older than him, having turned twenty in July. She told him she lived in Miami, but visited this area often.

  "So, where you from, Andy Webster?" she asked, sipping the last of the tea from her glass. Andy gathered the trash together on the cart and pushed it out into the hallway, turning back around, taking the chair near the huge television set.

  "Radford. Ever been there?" he asked. "Or even hear of it?"

  "Nope, I'm a Florida girl, haven't been out of the Sunshine State but a few times. Is this your first time in Florida, or just your first time being lost in Florida?" she laughed.

  "Actually, I have been here before, several years ago with a friend. We were at Daytona Beach and Orlando, then Key West. Where exactly is Fort Walton?"

  As she explained, Andy opened the newspaper and started scanning stories, trying to make some sense of why he was where he was. He was only half listening to the girl, felt her silence, and looked up, knowing he had missed something.

  "I asked you what you were doing here, you know, in Fort Walton, walking around lost?"

  He was ready, had come up with a story that sounded at least a little plausible while she was in the shower.

  "I'm looking for my dad. He left when I was a baby, and now I want to see him. I think he might be in the Navy, maybe a pilot. I guess t
hat's why I've been directed here, with all the military. What are you doing? On vacation?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

  "Yeah, sort of. Anyway, I bet we can find out if your dad is here or not. They have all kinds of military information offices at the bases around here. Maybe we can call and ask if he's stationed anywhere around this area. What's his name?" she asked, picking up the phone.

  "Andy...Andrew. Like me. Andrew Webster." He was watching her talk on the phone, writing a number down and dialing again. She made three different calls, each time asking how to find out if there was a Navy officer named Andrew Webster stationed anywhere in the area.

  He was falling for her, he could feel it. She was so good looking, with an open, pleasant personality, not exactly bubbly, but up beat, no-nonsense. As she was making the phone calls, he found himself fantasizing about the future, wondering if he was going to be married in 2023. Let's see, he thought, I'll be 31 and Jan's 20, an 11 year difference. That's all right, shouldn't hurt my career, dating a younger woman. Let's see, when I'm 50, she'll be 39. If I could somehow meet her this year, 2008, maybe we could get something going.

  His thoughts were interrupted by the girl hanging up the phone. "They told me to call Pensacola Naval Air Station for information about Navy pilots...kinda snooty about it, too. Inter-service rivalry, I guess. Probably good advice, though. I've got to run an errand real quick, sorry but it's urgent and I'm late. Then, when I get back, I'll call. You stay here and make yourself at home. Take a shower if you want. I shouldn't be more than a half hour or so. Then, I promise, we'll call the Pentagon is we have to. If the phone rings, take a message and tell them I'll call back."

  Bending down, she kissed him on the cheek, a sisterly kiss, although the look he sneaked down the front of her tank top was certainly not brotherly. The view hooked him, hard.

 

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