 |
| Stories Bingo’s Home Bingo’s Lair |
|
Driving Lessons Chapter 1 |
|
|
Piacevole Pizza was the center of the stuff that happened back then, 1959. Not that anyone would know. The pizzeria was on the corner of a not very busy street the south side of Central. Central went through the old part of town, cutting it into two: north and south. South side wasn't so nice and got less so the further from Central one went. North side was better and the best houses were on the bluff above the river, fine imitations of someone's idea of colonial plantations - red brick with columned porches. My high school was just off Central on the north side, called Central. There were three others, one for the blacks living on the south side, and another on the north side. Rich kids didn't go to Central. The neighborhood around Central was filled with what was called workers' cottages, small wood frame two story houses set closely together in tiny yards without trees. The town's major employer was the factory which sprawled on the north side down to the river. Maybe a fourth of the old town was the factory. Beyond the factory, neighborhoods built up so that those in the big houses had to look at untidy development eating into their woodland vistas. That's progress, I guess. Piacevole Pizza was always lit up, had large plate glass windows facing the streets making up the corner. A bench outside was popular for those waiting for their pizza if the weather was nice, a juke box and three tables inside were usually unattended until weather turned foul. From outside Piacevole Pizza looked brightly lit, but once inside it seemed cavernous, getting darker toward the kitchen in back whose open door at that end was the sole source of light. There might be a young couple outside, their '54 Chevy with its bright chrome shiny under the street light. Inside, Piacevole's was empty of customers, and the walk toward the counter by the lit door in back foreboding in a silly way. Piacevole Pizza was run by the owner whose name I didn't learn right away and his two teenage sons, Randy and Darrell. I was a junior at Central, Randy was a senior and Darrell was two years older. A girl worked there, unrelated, and that's how it started. She was a sophomore named Candy.
She was maybe 5'7" (I'm 5'10"), dark haired but straight, no curls. I'd noticed her before just like I'd noticed any girl who passed my way, but she hadn't caught my fancy or attention. Loose, nondescript sweater, skirt, nothing drew attention to her. She held her books against her chest. "I wanted to know if you'd like to go out tonight." I looked up to her face. "I work, so it'd be after that, and not for long because I have to go home. You have a car?" I shook my head. "That's okay." She had a way of speaking so that her words tumbled over one another. "A walking date is fine by me. I can't promise much. Maybe fifteen minutes of passionate necking. Before I have to go home. But I'll make it up to you." She gave a theatrical wink. "If you'll meet me at four in front of Piacevole's." She added, "This isn't a pick up or anything like that. I'm a virgin." She gave a smile as if to assure me. "Oh, I'm Candy and I work there. So will you?" "I have homework." "Is that a polite no?" "It's a fact. I have a paper." "An achiever. Okay. Meet me at four. There's something I want you to do at eight and then walk me home at ten. From eight to ten plus the walk. It'll be worth your time." Another wink. Some girls have reputations and some don't. I'd never heard anything about Candy being loose or a tease or likely to drink or having any of a myriad of failings. Like any place, in Central High there was a group that was extremely social and at the forefront. There were tight couples. There were kids that were known as hot rodders or thieves or drank a lot. There were a couple of girls rumored to be having affairs with older men, fathers, though those were just rumors. A girl was rumored to be a lesbian. Some kids who dressed strange were rumored to smoke reefer. And so on. Most kids were average joes and janes who didn't do much. I was one of those, an observer. "Can I sit down?" "Sure." I moved my books and she sat next to me, not too close. "It's just that I noticed you walking around and thought we could be partners." She raised her fingers when a girl passed but didn't look away from me. "Eight to a little after ten. You take breaks, don't you? What are you reading?" "Frederik Pohl." "That's the author, right?" "And Kornbluth. The Space Merchants." "So you're one of those spaceship and sputnik guys." "It's set in the future, but spaceships aren't the main thing." I saw she was taking English and math just like everyone had to. "I asked around and you aren't inexperienced with girls but maybe you're a little shy." She raised an eyebrow. Beth and I had broken up last winter. Who'd she been talking to? "Like pizza? I can throw in a slice. Do it? Or should I go elsewhere?" Marianne, one of the Barkley twins, walked by. She was just about the prettiest girl in school, she and her sister. They were new this year and I'd only recently figured out how to tell them apart. Marianne glanced at Candy, then at me, back to Candy, and said, "When you're not busy." She waited a moment and walked away. "I need to talk to her. She's pretty, isn't she?" I watched the spread of freckles across Candy's nose. Green eyes. "Four in front of Piacevole's. Okay." "Pizza at eight, walk me home at ten. We can talk then. Can you drive?" I shook my head. "No car, never sat in the driver's seat." "Too bad, there might be a job in a week or two." She stood, raised the books to her chest. "Brian, we'll meet again at four." She stepped away, turned, said, "Thanks," with a smile. Marianne waited down the hall. I sat back down. I hadn't been with anyone since last winter with Beth. We were going steady and it was beautiful until a pregnancy scare shook things apart. I felt terrible, she felt guilty, both of us realized we didn't want to marry and that was the only option, really. She ended up refusing to talk to me and I ended up being angry with her and the weeks of waiting for the other foot to fall were agonizing. Nothing happened except neither of us could bear to look at the other. I hadn't realized people noticed me walking at night. I did a wide swing, down to the river and back, each evening after dark. Months earlier I'd had to exhaust myself in order to sleep. Now I did it in a more relaxed manner in order to think and to enjoy the places and people I passed. One day I hoped to be a writer. I was storing up images and impressions until the time when I would begin to put pen to paper or punch keys on a typewriter. What I didn't have were many experiences. My time with Beth was a few short weeks. I hadn't known death, or birth, hadn't begun to know life yet. Until I walked through the door at Piacevole Pizza. Candy came out at four and we sat for a minute on the bench outside. She told me my pizza would be ready at eight. My slice, she said, smiling. She touched my hand lightly as she rose, left me. Her uniform was a shiny material, slick looking and light weight. Pants and blouse with short sleeves. Her hair was in a ponytail. She left me and I'd already decided she was interesting. Driving Lessons next chapter
|
|