Now They Call Me Gunner

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Now They Call Me Gunner Page 19

by Thom Whalen


  * * *

  I called Katie and asked if she could be ready at six instead of seven.

  “Ready?” she asked.

  “For our date.”

  “Oh. A date? Tonight?”

  “That’s right. We’re going out tonight.”

  “Me and you?” She sounded genuinely puzzled.

  “Right.”

  “Okay. Six, you say?”

  She might not be sitting on the edge of her seat, waiting for me with eager anticipation, but I was going to take her out tonight, no matter what.

  “The movie starts at seven. If we leave at six, we can grab a burger first.” I’d decided to take her to see The Last Picture Show despite Randal’s derision. He was right about one thing, good or bad, a movie was the only thing to do in Wemsley. That and drink beer.

  “Good. I’m hungry. I haven’t eaten yet.”

  “I’ll see you in an hour.”

  I hung up, wondering if this was normal. Was a man always supposed to ask a woman twice to go out on the same date?

  I wore my best jeans and a dress shirt with a button-down collar. Katie’s father answered the door and invited me to come inside and wait.

  After introductions, we had little to discuss. I imagined that he wanted to ask me about my future prospects and my intentions toward his daughter but he didn’t because he didn’t want to give a first date that much gravitas. Looking back on it now, I suspect that he never gave anything that much thought.

  Instead, he commented that the weather was cool for this time of year and I replied that it had been the same down in Utica a couple of hours ago. He didn’t ask why I’d been in Utica and I didn’t think that it would be wise to tell him that I was helping a friend who was about to be arrested for murder. Not the first impression that I wanted to make. Nor did I mention that I had found a liquor store there that would sell beer to minors and had a fresh six-pack to split with his daughter. That was too germane to my intentions.

  It was a relief for both of us when Katie came out, relieving us from having to endure each other’s company any longer.

  She was wearing a pale teal sleeveless sweater, a canary yellow miniskirt with a wide white belt, and white go-go boots. Her long hair floated over her shoulders like a blonde cloud. Mascara and eye shadow made her eyes look huge and dark. Her lips were pink and full and glistened like wild berries.

  She looked hip and luscious and beautiful.

  I couldn’t believe that I was going to be seen in public with her.

  Suddenly, my best jeans felt shabby and my dress shirt, stuffy and uncool.

  She swayed across the room like a model on a catwalk, said, “’Night, daddy,” grabbed my arm, and guided me out the front door.

  As soon as we were outside, she leaned close and spoke softly into my ear, “You look handsome tonight.”

  My clothes felt just fine again.

  I opened the passenger door on my father’s three-year-old pale-yellow Dodge Polara and watched her slip inside.

  When I settled behind the steering wheel, she slid across the bench until her hip was nestled against mine and her head was resting on my shoulder. I loved driving with her hands wrapped around my right arm.

  This had to be what heaven felt like.

  The ten-minute drive to the A&W will last forever in my mind but I can’t remember if we spoke at all. Words were of no importance.

  The carhop was a girl that I recognized from high school. I think she was a year younger than me. She gave no indication that she had ever seen me before, but I think that she was impressed to see me with a girl as pretty as Katie. She smiled when she took our order.

  I ate a Papa Burger; Katie ate a Mama Burger; we drank root beer; she nibbled from my basket of fries.

  I was too nervous to carry my side of the conversation but that was no problem. She had enough to say for both of us.

  She told me that she dreamed of forming an all-girl Rock and Roll band. She didn’t know how to play any instruments, so she would be the drummer.

  She was so cute.

  The movie was better than I’d hoped. I dared to hold Katie’s hand and she didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned her head on my shoulder, just like in the car.

  The main point of the movie was that there was nothing much to do in a small town in Nowhere, Texas in the nineteen fifties except to have sex. A lot of sex, both meaningless and heartfelt. I’d seen a few movies with nude scenes, but never so much nudity in one film. At one point or another, almost all of the actresses stripped off their clothes for no reason but lovemaking. But it was shot in black and white so it was artistic.

  Katie bore an uncanny resemblance to Cybil Shepherd. Others might not see it as clearly as I did that night, but to this day, I swear that they were nearly twins when the house lights came back up and I looked at her.

  As we left the theater, I asked her what she thought.

  “It sure is different down in Texas than here in upstate New York,” she said.

  I had hoped that the movie would incite her in the same erotic direction as the characters onscreen. Her words were like a pinprick in a balloon.

  Then she said, “They sure like football down there.”

  That was what she took away from the movie? That high-school football was more important to Texans than to Yankees? What about all the necking and petting and going all the way? Did she think that it was the same up here as down there or different?

  “It portrayed universal human relationships vividly, don’t you think?” I asked. “A lot of the time, people here act in about the same way as in the movie, don’t you think? Except for the football, I mean.”

  “I guess,” she said. “They were mean to the retarded boy. People here would do the same thing to him, I guess.”

  The retarded boy? That was just a minor subplot. Did she think that was the main point of the film? “I’m not sure that they were trying to be mean to him,” I said. “They didn’t want him to get a bloody nose. They just didn’t understand him very well.”

  “Maybe you’re right. But the pool party was weird. I don’t think anyone has parties like that one around here.”

  She was referring to the scene where Cybil Shepherd sheds all her clothes while standing on the pool diving board. I couldn’t imagine that happening in upstate New York, either. Pity. But at least I was reassured that she’d noticed some of the sexy parts of the film.

  “Yeah, I think people here are more private than that.” That was safe to say. I didn’t want to see Katie stripping off in public. Just in private.

  When we were in the car and she was snuggling against me once again, she said, “Do you want to drive out to Smoke Pond and look at the stars for a while?”

  I sure did. It didn’t matter to me that they had pulled Billy Paul’s body out of that water a couple of weeks ago. When Katie was clinging to my arm, murder was the last thing on my mind.

  Smoke Pond is a small lake. There’s a campground on one side, a boat launch at the near end, and a small hill on the far side. A narrow gravel road goes up to the top of the hill. Apparently, its only purpose is to provide a way for kids to get up there at night so that they can make out on the grassy summit.

  I parked at the end of the road. I’ve heard that it can get crowded on a Saturday night but this was Wednesday so we were the only car in sight.

  “I’ve got some beer in the trunk,” I said. “I mean, only if you want one. It’s okay if you don’t. I just happen to have it with me tonight.”

  It had taken considerable planning to smuggle the beer from Randal’s truck to my room and then back out to the trunk of Dad’s car after he gave me the keys. I’d had to move it in stages through the back yard, scouting as I went. It would have been easier to keep the beer in the garage but Dad keeps the place so damned neat and tidy that there’s no place to hide it out there.

  The parents might have seen me toting the six-pack around and decided to turn a blind eye, but I doubted it. They weren�
�t cool and they wouldn’t have been happy to see me with booze, even if it was just beer.

  Katie was happy about it. “Terrific,” she said, smiling broadly. “Bring it along.” She climbed out of the car without waiting for me to come around and open her door.

  Smoke Pond Overlook, known around high school as Makeout Hill, is grassy because it’s a stony knoll covered by a layer of earth that’s too thin to support tree roots. Though it’s only a hundred feet higher than the surrounding forest, one can see far from the top because there’s nothing to block the view.

  At nine in the evening at that time of year, the sun had set and the sky was darkening but still glowed enough for us to see each other.

  “Did you bring a blanket?” she asked when we were standing on the broad summit of the hill.

  “No.” It never occurred to me that I’d need a blanket on a first date.

  “That’s okay,” she said. To my surprise and delight, she unzipped her boots and took them off, then hiked her skirt up to her hips, flashing her panties, and sat on the grass. She didn’t want green stains on her white boots or yellow skirt but didn’t care about her pantyhose or panties.

  Her nylon-clad thighs, exposed from feet to crotch looked long and lithe in the fading light.

  I sat beside her. I didn’t care about keeping my jeans or shirt clean. I’d happily sacrifice both for a single kiss.

  The dying light washed all the color away so the world appeared in black and white, like the movie that we had seen.

  My breath sounded loud in my ears and my heart was pounding.

  This was the acme. Alone with a beautiful girl on Makeout Hill after sunset. A teenaged boy’s life didn’t get better than this. At least, not in Wemsley.

  “You got an opener?” she asked, drawing a bottle of High Life from the six-pack.

  I did, thanks to Randal. He knew everything about everything that mattered. I pulled the church key from my pocket and popped the top off her bottle. The beer sighed in the still night.

  She took a long pull and sighed in reply. “That’s good,” she said.

  I opened a bottle for myself and drank deep.

  It tasted terrible. Bitter as gall. Astringent on my tongue. How could anyone stand to drink this stuff?

  “It’s great,” I said and took another gulp, trying to rush it past my tongue so that I could swallow without having to taste it. I’d never been drunk so I didn’t know what to expect. I only hoped that intoxication would numb my taste buds.

  “There’s a star.” She pointed to Venus on the horizon.

  “I think that’s a planet,” I said.

  “It looks like a star. I’m going to wish on it,” she said. “Star light, Star bright, the first star I see tonight; I wish I may, I wish I might; Have the wish I wish tonight.” She squeezed her eyes shut tight for a minute.

  I didn’t bother reciting the incantation. I knew what I wished for.

  I took another swallow of beer, hoping to find strength and courage in the bottle. They say that good medicine always tastes bad.

  “There.” She opened her eyes and looked at me with satisfaction. “Now I’m going to get my wish.”

  “What did you wish for?” I asked.

  “That’s for me to know and you to find out,” she replied.

  I wondered if she was wishing for the same thing as me.

  “Did you make a wish?” she asked.

  “I make wishes all the time,” I said.

  “Do they come true?”

  “I’m here with you,” I said.

  “Oh, that’s sweet.” She turned her face toward mine and closed her eyes.

  I knew what to do.

  When my lips brushed against hers, I felt like she had powdered them with fairy dust.

  She twisted so that she was facing me fully, stretched across my lap, put her arms around me and pulled me close. I could feel her breasts pressing against me through her sweater and my shirt.

  The kiss lasted forever. Her lips parted and I felt the tip of her tongue against my mouth. I pushed my tongue to touch hers.

  While we kissed, she caressed my back gently, from the nape of my neck to my waist, exploring my spine, shoulder blades, and each individual rib.

  I followed suit. My fingers found the outline of her bra straps underneath her sweater, making me that much more keenly aware of her breasts pressing against my chest.

  She pulled away from my lips and whispered, “We better get back to the car before it gets too dark to see.”

  I swallowed my disappointment and helped her to her feet.

  She paused to slip her feet back into her boots and smooth her skirt back over her thighs.

  Her bottle was empty, mine still half full, but I didn’t care about abandoning it.

  Stars were glowing all across the dark sky as we stumbled through the meadow to the car.

  Then, a miracle. Before I could reach for the passenger door handle, she opened the back door and slipped into the back seat. She kept a grip on my hand and pulled me in after her.

  She was so much smarter than me, it was breathtaking.

  As soon as the door was closed, we resumed from the point where we had broken our clench beneath the stars.

  My hand found a small gap between the hem of her sweater and the waistband of her skirt and I caressed that narrow strip of naked skin with my fingertips.

  It was the right thing to do.

  She moaned.

  I pushed underneath her sweater so that my whole hand could press against the small of her back.

  Her breaths were deep and her breasts heaved against me as she kept kissing me.

  I felt like I was running a mile downhill. I moved my hand up her spine and encountered her bra strap. I could feel some kind of complicated clasp holding it in place. I had no idea how it worked but I tried to fumble it open.

  She pulled away and slid her hands down to my forearms, pushing them away lightly. “Let’s leave that alone tonight, okay?” she said. “This is about as far as I go on a first date.”

  First date implied that there might be a second. I knew better than to wreck a good thing with impatience.

  “I’m happy with this,” I said and kissed her again. I wasn’t lying. I was more than happy. I was ecstatic.

  I was an easy non-lay.

  She began kissing my earlobe, then moved down to my neck.

  I learned that there was a lot that we could do without removing any clothing. And it all felt terrific.

  An hour later, when I walked her to her front door, I felt like I was drifting along, two inches above the ground.

  Before she went into the house, after a long, leisurely goodnight kiss, she said in a low voice, “I had a great time tonight. Thank you.”

  On the short drive home, I contemplated that I had not seen any lovemaking in the movie, including going all the way with naked women, that had looked as satisfying as the way I felt.

  I might still be cherry, but the bit of experience that I now had under my belt felt amazing.

 

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