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The Green Years (ARC)

Page 23

by Karen Wolff


  I turned my face to the hot wind that was drying the tears she had cried into my shirt. She was right, but I’d marry her in a minute it if it kept her here. It wouldn’t be easy for us, but surely I could figure it out.

  “Let’s get a drink of water. We can’t decide anything right now.” I pulled her up, and we walked to the well where I pumped icy cold water. She took the dipper and drank, then splashed water onto her face.

  “We’ll figure this out, Carol Ann. There has to be something we can do”

  BUT THERE WAS nothing. On the fateful day in August, I helped Mr. Bellwood and a couple of moving men load the family’s belongings onto a truck. They didn’t need me, but I wanted to be there as close as possible. I wanted to touch Carol Ann’s things and remember every last detail. It took until the middle of that blistering hot afternoon to haul everything outside and pack it in the truck. Some of Carol Ann’s girlfriends stopped by to say their farewells. I stood back, listening to their promises of letters and cards.

  Then the moment came that I dreaded most of all. I held her in my arms and felt my eyes mist up as we stood there. I didn’t care who saw me kiss her and hug her and stroke her hair. We didn’t say much; we’d already said about everything there was to say in the past few weeks.

  “Promise you’ll write, Harry.”

  “I will. I love you, Carol Ann.”

  “I love you too, Harry.”

  I shook hands with Mr. Bellwood and got a hug from his wife. She called to Jerry to get in the car, and they drove away. Neighbors who’d come to see them off waved until they were out of sight. It was the saddest, loneliest feeling ever to stand in the yard of that empty house and know Carol Ann wasn’t coming back.

  Her girlfriends came over to me with long, sad faces. Pearl Goodman put her hand on my arm and said, “We won’t let you get lonesome, Harry.” Her round, chubby face creased in smiles that made her look just like her mother who was about the widest woman in town. Then Betsy Bonham said, “We like to roller skate, Harry. Maybe we’ll come out to the rink to see you.” She was a tall, scraggly-haired girl, all bones and big feet. They were Carol Ann’s friends, and I knew they were nice enough girls, but right then they had no appeal for me. Didn’t they understand how I was feeling? I just walked away.

  Finally everybody left but me. I felt I was still connected to Carol Ann if I stayed. I wanted to think of her, to remember her here. I went all around that empty house, looking at the bare windows, the locked doors, and then I wandered out to the vegetable garden in back. Carol Ann’s mother knew she wouldn’t be putting up string beans, or corn, or tomatoes this summer, so she decided to let the garden go and left it untended. It was a forlorn place. Weeds had sprouted up in the hot dry weather and were taking over the crops. Rabbits had stripped the lettuce and pea plants down to nubs. Corn left unharvested hung heavily on the stalks. I walked up and down each row, unable to pull myself away, my mind haunted with the emptiness I felt.

  I fell to my knees along a row of beans and began to weed, slowly at first, then faster and faster. At the end of the row, I was wet with sweat and tasted dust in my mouth. I wondered why I was doing this. Yet I kept cleaning up that garden. I even weeded the row of marigolds and zinnias that grew along the border. Nettles stung my hands, and my nose ran from the ragweed and goldenrod, but I didn’t stop until I had cleared every weed and spent plant. I piled the debris high in the alley where folks burned trash. Out by the shed I found an abandoned basket and filled it to overflowing with tomatoes. I don’t know why. Gram had plenty for us in her garden, but I just couldn’t stop. By the time I finished, exhausted and thirsty, the garden looked respectable again.

  I went to the pump and let the cold water pour into my mouth. I took off my shirt and the water ran over my head and down my chest. When I was cooled, I went around the house and sat down on the front porch step feeling low. I watched the sun go down, and still I sat. My brother showed up when it was dusk.

  “Time to come home, Harry. We’ve been waiting for you.” He pulled me to my feet and put his arm around my shoulder. I loved him very much at that moment.

  THE STIFLING HUMIDITY of late summer dragged on and on. I went about my usual schedule at the store and skating rink, continuing to sell appliances from Castle Electric even though my market was drying up. Folks had bought just about everything they could afford to buy. They were getting over the novelty of electricity and all the new ways to use it. I didn’t mind winding down. I had a nice bank account to show for my work, and school would start soon.

  Sweet letters from Kansas City arrived every few days. My heart seized up each time I saw one in the mail, and I felt all over again the pain of her absence. I answered every one of them and wondered if my letters had the same effect on Carol Ann. In a strange way, the days when I didn’t get a letter from her were sometimes a relief because the terrible longing would leave me alone for a while. I learned to keep busy so my mind wouldn’t dwell on what I couldn’t change.

  Russ knew I was lonesome and invited me to go to a movie one night. He gave up a date with Darlene on my account, and I was grateful. We set off for Beaverton in his car, the wind cooling our bodies as we drove. We sang all the songs we could think of as we rode along. “Bye, Bye Blackbird,” “Baby Face,” and “Always.” Before I could get too mopey about that being Carol Ann’s favorite, Russ turned to me with an evil grin.

  “Harry, do you know what the egg said to the boiling water?”

  I looked at him expectantly.

  “How can you expect me to get hard so fast? I just got laid a minute ago.”

  “Oh, brother. That’s terrible,” I said, groaning. Russ always had a raft of stories and jokes. He just kept going.

  “Did you hear the one about the traveling salesman who got lost on the country roads? He stopped at a farmhouse and asked if he could spend the night. The farmer said the spare room was occupied, but if he didn’t mind sleeping with a red-haired school teacher, he could stay. The salesman said, ‘Sir, I am a gentleman.’ The farmer said, ‘as far as I can tell, so’s the red-haired school teacher.’”

  I was roaring with laughter by the time we reached the theater and in just the right mood for Buster Keaton. The movie was Battling Butler. It had funny gags about hunting and fishing, but the best part was when Buster tried to learn to box. He was awful at it, but at the very last minute he was able to knock down the villain. We cheered for him with the rest of the audience, hooting and clapping when it was over. I hadn’t been out for fun since Carol Ann left, and I felt intoxicated, wound up. I didn’t want the evening to end.

  We didn’t go home right away. The hazy moon, the humid wind that smelled of rain stirred our blood and made us unready for sleep. Restless and strangely exhilarated. We drove around, looking for something, we didn’t know what. We wished for some crazy, wonderful thing to release all the energy pent up inside us, but there was only our quiet, sleepy town. After a while, we went out to the Brule, got out, and sat on the bridge for a long time, our feet dangling over the side, smoking cigarettes, talking about the movie, our girlfriends.

  “You miss Carol Ann?”

  “Something fierce, Russ.” I’d felt light-hearted earlier, but now the longing came down over me. We sat quietly for a few minutes.

  “I think I’m going to marry Darlene,” Russ said.

  “Wow! No kidding? Are you really?” I don’t know why I was surprised because Russ and Darlene had been going together a long time.

  “Yeah, I think so.” He sat staring at the water. “She thinks she might be pregnant.”

  “Jesus, Russ. Are you sure?”

  “Well, it seems like she is.”

  That was something! Russ had been having sex, and I didn’t even know it. I wanted to say, “What’s it like? When do you do it? How come you didn’t tell me?” I opened my mouth to ask, but he seemed so serious and thoughtful, I decided I’d better not. Instead I said, “Why, you old tomcat. Gonna get a wife and a kid. That’ll ke
ep you home nights.” I tried to laugh, but I was sorry for him, and envious too. I thought how close Carol Ann and I had come to doing it. What if we had ended up like Russ and Darlene!

  “Yeah, I guess it will,” he said, “but I’m ready. Why not? I’m nineteen, and I’ve got a pretty good job. Darlene wants to get away from her folks.”

  “It’s hard to imagine you an old married man.”

  “Oh, you’ll be doing the same thing someday.”

  “I hope so. I hope I marry Carol Ann. Right now it seems impossible.” I paused, wondering if we’d ever get back together. “I should probably figure out where my life is going before I think about getting married.”

  He let out a soft chuckle. “That sounds like you, Harry.” He stood up, stretched, yawned, and looked at his watch. “It’s almost midnight. Ready to go?”

  I nodded, and we headed for home. I went into the house, all the time thinking about Russ. I wondered if he loved Darlene. If he thought he was obliged to marry her. If having sex was worth it. I was afraid things would be different between us now, and that made me sad, but I was relieved in a way. Much as the desire I felt for Carol Ann still stirred me, at least she and I wouldn’t have to face Russ’s kind of trouble.

  I NEEDED TO make one last trip to see Mr. Steele in Sioux City to close my account with him. Gram and Aunt Lida were curious about all the appliances Ty and I talked about, so I invited them to go with me. I laughed to myself to see them come out to the car all dressed up, wearing their old-fashioned Sunday hats.

  “Hold on to those,” I said. “They’re apt to blow off on this trip.” The two of them climbed in, giggly as girls to have a place to go and something new to do. They jabbered over the noise of the car all the way to Sioux City.

  Mr. Steele saw us right away as we walked into the store. He shook my hand and said, “Well, if it isn’t Harry Spencer, my best salesman. Who’d you bring with you?” He beamed as I made the introductions.

  “You’ve got an amazing grandson, ma’am,” he said to Gram. “He’s outsold all my fulltime salesmen the last couple of months. I could use ten fellows like him with all the opportunities there are right now, the way electricity is changing everything.”

  She looked at me proudly. “I can tell you he’s worked like one possessed, Mr. Steele.”

  “I know he has,” he said. “Harry, let’s go back to my office for a minute. You ladies feel free to look around. Ask the floor salesman for help if you need to.”

  I settled up my bill, and then Mr. Steele said, “What are you plans, Harry?” I told him I intended to finish high school this year. After that I wasn’t sure.

  “Let me try out an idea for you, Harry. See what you think.” Mr. Steele proposed that I work fulltime for him by traveling to towns that had recently gotten power. He wanted me to sell appliances to people the way I had in Richmond. He offered me ten dollars a week plus a ten percent commission on everything I sold, and a gasoline allowance.

  “You’re a born salesman, Harry. No telling where you could end up with your talents.”

  I was surprised as all get out. I wondered why I hadn’t thought of the idea myself. Mr. Steele’s flattery made me feel ten feet tall, and I salivated to think about his offer. Why, I could make at least twenty-five dollars a week. Maybe more. I’d be able to buy a car. I’d be able to go see Carol Ann.

  But when I thought of her, I knew she’d tell me to slow down. She’d remind me how important it was to finish high school. A degree would help me find a better job in the future. And what would I do if Mr. Steele’s offer didn’t pan out? I would have wasted all that time and missed out on my senior year.

  I was torn. If I took the offer, I could be rich. I’d feel like a man, not a schoolboy. Surely she’d want that for me. It was such an exciting and unforeseen opportunity that it made school seem stale in comparison. But maybe she was right, and I should think of the long-range consequences. Then too, there was the little matter that I didn’t own a car, but had been making free use of Granddad’s car. I knew I couldn’t continue to do that.

  I said, “Thank you so much, Mr. Steele. It’s a wonderful idea. Do you mind if I take a few days to think about it?”

  He seemed surprised I didn’t accept his offer immediately. “Harry, you don’t get many chances like this in this world. What’s holding you up?”

  “I…I know, Mr. Steele, but I’d like to talk to my folks about it before I decide.” I didn’t tell him about the conversation going on in my head with my girlfriend.

  “Well, all right, Harry. But don’t wait too long.”

  He walked out to the front of the store with me. Gram and Aunt Lida were admiring the beautiful light fixtures hanging from the ceiling.

  “Ladies, I hope you enjoyed the store,” he said. “Did you decide on a new sewing machine or stove today?”

  “Not today, thank you,” said Lida, “but one of these days I mean to have a washing machine.”

  “If next summer is as hot as this one, I’m going to want one of those electric fans,” Gram said.

  “I’ll tell you what,” he said. “Here’s a deck of playing cards for each of you with a picture of that washing machine on them. Every time you play pinochle I’ll bet you’ll think of the washing machine here at Castle Electric.”

  They laughed and took the cards. We headed for the door.

  “I’ll be waiting to hear from you, Harry.”

  “What was that all about?” Gram asked when we got to the car.

  I didn’t answer but said, “What would you say to a chocolate soda? I’ll tell you all about it at the ice cream parlor.”

  I TALKED TO everyone I could think of about Mr. Steele’s offer. Most people thought I’d be crazy to turn it down. “You don’t need to go to school if you have a job like that,” they’d say, or “a bird in hand’s worth two in the bush.”

  I decided to talk to my dad. He’d surprised me with his bookkeeping knowledge, and I thought he might have some advice for me.

  He seemed sulky when I brought it up. “Gonna be a big shot, are you?” he said.

  “I don’t think so, Dad. It’s just a chance I didn’t expect to have.”

  “I don’t think you get it, Harry. That man Steele is gonna make about a hundred percent profit on everything you sell. He’s the one that’s gonna get rich. Bastard will be laughing all the way to the bank. You’ll be the sucker.”

  “Does that mean you think I should go back to school, Dad?”

  “How do I know, Harry? I never got a chance to go. I don’t know what you should do.” He stood up and walked away, and that was the end of our conversation. His behavior irritated me, and I chewed on it as I walked home. A father was supposed to advise his son and help him with big decisions. Then I had a revelation, and my brain lit up. My father was jealous of me! That was why he behaved the way he did. He must feel embarrassed about his own useless life, and my opportunities were just more than he could handle. That explained a lot. I’d have to let it go.

  One kernel of understanding did come from our talk. He was right about me making Mr. Steele richer. I’d be just a hired flunky, and I didn’t want to do that anymore. I wanted to be on the other side of the business like he was. That helped me make my decision.

  After a couple of days I wrote to Mr. Steele to let him know that I’d decided to go back to school. Gram said I shouldn’t close the door completely, so I thanked him for his offer and suggested that perhaps I could work for him some time in the future, after graduation.

  A PACKAGE AND A letter from Carol Ann came at the end of August in time to mark my eighteenth birthday. I opened it and found six handsome linen handkerchiefs, which she had embroidered with my initials, HLS. I’d never gotten such a gift, and I was filled all over again with longing for her.

  Gram peered over my shoulder and said, “Those are too fancy to wipe your nose on, Harry. You’d better save them.”

  “You bet I will,” I stepped outside to read the letter privately.
When I opened it, a color picture of a birthday cake tumbled out.

  My dearest Harry,

  Happy, happy eighteenth birthday! I found this picture of a cake in one of Mother’s magazines. If only I could be there with you, I would make one just like it to celebrate your day. Can you pretend to taste it?

  I am thrilled, thrilled, thrilled you’ll be going back to school. And so are my parents. You’ll never regret it. At least you know your way around. I’m terrified to face the huge school I’ll be attending next week. It takes up a whole city block and is four stories high. My stomach crawls when I think about it. What if I’m not smart enough? What if nobody likes me? Oh, how I dread it.

  I hope you like the handkerchiefs, Harry. I thought about you with every stitch I put in. Maybe you should tuck them away to save for when you become a businessman. It won’t be much longer.

  I love you, Harry Spencer. Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!

  Carol Ann

  P.S. Dad is teaching me to drive the car!

  Tears stung my eyes for a moment. I could imagine how scared she was of starting at a new school. Yet I was buoyed up by her thoughtfulness. I vowed to work hard to make myself ready for a life with my sweet girl.

  Two days later I was back for my senior year at Beaverton High. It wasn’t the same without Carol Ann. We’d always talked over every last thing, and now I had no one like that. At least I got to drive the car to school. I loved the feeling of independence it gave me to hop into the Ford and go where I wanted. After class I sometimes went down to Mobley’s Café and had a Coke with the kids who gathered there.

  “Hey, Harry. You got a date for the Fall Dance?” Billy asked one day.

 

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