The woman was rearranging the suitcases in her van outside the Simmons Hotel in south Cincinnati. She then turned to the little girl, about a year old, standing next to the van's side door. The woman sat on the edge of the van doorway and held a doll on the floor with her left hand.
"Look at her. Isn't she pretty? You can have her," the woman told the little girl who was staring at the doll. She smiled at the woman but still appeared not to want to get in. "Isn't she cute? Mindy?" the woman asked again, putting on a tone of excitement. Mindy nodded but did not say anything. The new 1980 van, shiny brown with large red and yellow bars on the sides, looked well cared for. Mindy finally lunged for the doll with half of her body falling on the floor of the van. The woman helped her get all the way in as she hugged the doll tightly. The woman then slid the door closed and walked to the front to get into the driver's seat.
After they pulled out of the parking lot and started going on a street that led to the freeway, the woman looked back and saw that Mindy was still enthralled with the doll, caressing her at times and then alternately touching and examining her pink dress. "I'm glad you're getting to like her. I think you could get to be real good friends."
The woman was driving back home to Gainesville, Florida, after spending three weeks at her parents' home. She and her husband Jim had moved there from Flint, Michigan, three years ago when he couldn't find a job, but she had harbored a secret hope that Jim wouldn't find work in Florida so that they could move back and still be able to say they had tried. Jim, however, found a good-paying job soon after they got there. In summer, she and Jim went back to Flint for his vacation, but he had not come this time. She had told her relatives that he had too many responsibilities at work, which was the truth but not the full truth.
"Lori," he'd said, "I think it'd be better if just you went back to Flint by yourself this summer."
"You're right, Jim. I've been terrible, I'm sorry. I know it's my fault."
They had been arguing too frequently, and while there had been no violence or rancor, there was often an inertially sullen atmosphere in the house. So many times she couldn't control her actions. She was unhappy with the way the marriage was going and, even worse, she was unhappy with herself.
An hour after they had left, Mindy began to cry. Lori looked back and saw the doll lying by her side. Mindy was probably getting hungry. Lori had luckily brought a half-dozen donuts. "Don't cry now. Everything is going to be just fine," she reassured as she reached into the bag of donuts, took out a chocolate cake one, and pinched a quarter piece out of it. She reached back to give Mindy the piece of donut, "Here. It's good." Mindy gave it an almost cross-eyed stare and then reached for it. She stopped crying, but after she had eaten the piece she began again. Lori quickly took another piece and gave it to her and continued this until Mindy seemed to have her fill. Lori then reached for a cardboard box placed on the floor in front of the passenger seat. It was a doll's tea set still wrapped in its original package.
"Look, this is for your doll. She'll like it." She tore off the cellophane cover. Mindy became attentive as Lori set out the dishes on the floor. It took several minutes since Lori had to move slowly because she was driving at the same time. Mindy caught on quickly and was soon playing with the dishes and moving them around in different ways. It made Lori proud to see her success in soothing her.
Several hours passed as Lori drove immersed in her thoughts. Luckily Mindy slept part of that time. Lori was well aware of how hard Jim tried to be patient, but there were times when he couldn't take it. Arguments started over inconsequential matters, and it had reached a frightfully intolerable level before she left for Michigan. Fortunately, she and Jim had talked on the telephone almost daily while she was in Michigan. It helped that she was much more relaxed with all her family around and was usually too busy to dwell on her problems. She and Jim had several long conversations in which they were able to learn more about what each one felt about the situation. She felt reassured that Jim still loved her in spite of everything and believed things would be much better between them from now on.
She had tried psychological counseling for several weeks but had dropped it when she failed to see any benefit. She had also taken a job to try to keep her mind occupied. This helped for a month or so. She had worked as a clerk in the Alachua County tax office where most of the employees were women. They all had children, even two who had never been married, and she got tired of listening to how much they enjoyed their children. She wasn't interested in a job. Jim had told her she didn't have to work. She would have much preferred staying home and raising a family.
She remembered how good it made her feel each time they had taken one of her nieces back to Gainesville to stay with them for a few weeks during the previous summers. Her self-esteem and optimism had even remained up for a month or two after the girls had gone back. She knew she had done a good job as a temporary mother and remembered that Jim and each of the girls had also been happy. She wasn't so sure that Mindy would be happy.
Lori knew she was edgy and hard to get along with at home because she had not been able to have any children in the 12 years of her marriage. She felt so empty and different not being able to have children. It was such a fundamental thing. It was there in the very beginning of the Bible where God said, "Go ye forth and multiply." All their friends and all the couples at their church had children. Lori got the sense that people felt pity toward her and Jim, which made her very uncomfortable.
A gynecologist had worked with her for several years trying to see what she could do to help her have children but had finally given up and announced to her five months ago that she thought there wasn't a chance. Lori still felt some hope, but she had to admit that her expectations were lower than ever. She couldn't help but feel guilty about not being able to have children even though she tried to convince herself otherwise. It often made her cross, which naturally made it difficult for her to act kindly toward Jim.
Mindy started to cry again. She was surely hungry now at 2:30 in the afternoon. The freeway signs said they were now passing Lenoir City, Tennessee, which was just south of Knoxville. She took the next exit and began hoping to find some place like a McDonald's with playground equipment that could pacify Mindy. It wasn't long before she spotted a McDonald's. Mindy stopped crying when she smelled the beef patties on the grill as they entered. They shared a quarter-pounder and a strawberry milk shake outside. After that they spent a long time on the slide, with Lori helping Mindy get up and off the slide and Mindy giggling and showing no fear at all. Lori enjoyed playing with her so much that she momentarily forgot her problems, but after nearly an hour she knew they had to leave.
Lori had not been able to bring any one of her nieces with her this time. One of her sisters was going to travel to California on vacation, and another was going to visit her in-laws in Virginia. Another niece from another sister that Lori would have liked to bring was attending summer school. Lori had been very disappointed. The doll and the tea set had been bought with a niece in mind.
She had checked in at that motel last night. As she looked out the window of her motel room just before going to bed, she saw a family arriving with four children, two boys and two girls. Lori heard them call the youngest child "Mindy" and fell in love with her right away. That morning, Lori found her playing on the sidewalk right next to her door. Mindy said "hi" right away.
"What are you doing?" she asked the little girl. "You know, you sure are a pretty girl." Mindy had a very healthy complexion, blonde hair, and an appealing little face. Lori walked to the nearby Dunkin' Donuts to get breakfast. She had already turned in her room key and was fully packed and ready to go. When she returned to her van, Mindy came up to her as she opened the side door to make a final check on things. It was only then that she had gotten the urge to bring Mindy along. She meant no harm. She hadn't stopped to think of the possible consequences. By now her parents had surely reported her missing to the police.
She started imagining that there was a roadblock ahead, set up just to intercept her and Mindy. She had crossed state lines which was probably a Federal crime--much more serious. She finally started to realize the true seriousness of what she had done. She thought of the parents of the child. They were surely terrified. Where were they now? Probably still sitting in the motel hoping for good news. She hated to think she was responsible for putting them through anguish, but then they still had three children left. Plus they could have more--and probably would. They should have been watching Mindy more closely. For all anyone knew, they were terrible parents who abused their children. Maybe she was rescuing Mindy from a terrible situation.
Mindy began to cry again. Lori looked back and couldn't see anything wrong. "Oh, it's O.K. Everything's going to be O.K. You wait and see." Lori tried to rearrange the dishes in an attempt to get Mindy interested in playing once again, but Mindy kept crying. She tried to caress the doll and focus Mindy's attention on it but to no avail.
Lori turned on the radio. They could be flashing bulletins. She was sure no one had seen her with Mindy at the motel. No one had even gotten a good look at her except for the motel clerk. Of course, they could have a good description of Mindy, even a photograph. She had seen how they would flash photographs of missing children even on nationwide television. It was too soon, however, for the networks to get ahold of a photograph. Besides, who ever paid attention and remembered them. She remembered a recent T.V. show she had seen that talked about what a big national problem missing children had become. She would have to stay on the freeway all the way home. They would have to stop for gas, but she could also buy food in the gas stations. They probably wouldn't have to stop more than twice.
Mindy was still crying but not as loudly. It was closer to whimpering. "You want to come up here?" she asked as she patted the passenger seat. Mindy didn't move or stop crying. Lori kept trying to get her to pay attention to the doll and dishes and then tried to give her another donut, but none of these made any difference.
A chill went through her as she thought of how insensitive she was being to the child's parents. Maybe she should drive into the next town and turn herself in. Maybe the police would understand and forgive her, especially if she gave Mindy back this soon. She could say that Mindy had snuck into the van without her noticing it for a long time.
Mindy could eventually become very happy with her and Jim. She wasn't concerned for a minute about that. Mindy was a perfect darling. She and Jim had tried hard to adopt. There were so many prerequisites, and it was especially hard to find a young child that one could start off right. She was sure about Mindy. Jim would love her, too, but what would he say about keeping her?
Jim was very strict about obeying the law and might be very angry at her for taking the little girl the way she had, but then he wanted children, too. All this time Lori kept trying as hard as she could to pacify Mindy but couldn't and that made her even more nervous. She kept a close watch ahead for any roadblocks. Lori thought of how the only trouble she had ever had with the law in her life was two traffic tickets, and that had been more than ten years ago. She had even donated money to Crime Stoppers in the past. It wouldn't surprise her if Jim were to want to immediately turn Mindy over to the police. He would put her in the car and drive straight to the police station. Perhaps she was wasting her time going through all this. But Jim did have a soft side. Then again, what was to stop her from going off and raising her by herself? If Jim could just have enough time to get to know her, he . . . .
She saw the flashing red roof lights of a police car ahead. She froze as her heart started to race. She could hear the rhythmic gushes through her carotid arteries. She pulled over to the side of the road and thought about crossing the median and going back in the opposite direction. She could then get off at the next exit and find a side road to get around what looked like a roadblock about one-half mile ahead. She looked and saw that metal road barriers made it impossible to cross the median, so she decided to stay parked and hope that they would remove the roadblock before long. It was now almost 5. It seemed strange not to see the line of cars one would expect at a roadblock. Traffic flow was perfectly normal. She sat there hoping a good idea would come. She would be all right there. But then what if someone saw her and figured she was trying to avoid the roadblock.
After about 10 minutes, she took another look at the police car and realized for the first time that it wasn't stopped in the middle of the highway as she had immediately thought, but on the right side. Also there was only one police car. A roadblock, especially one on a wide interstate freeway such as this one, would have to involve more than one car. Because the police car was so far away, it was hard to see exactly what was going on. Lori had first been able to spot it because there was a turn in the road to the right and a downhill slope ahead. After studying the scene as closely as she could, she decided to proceed cautiously. The traffic passing by was not slowing down at all. She felt silly. The police officer was probably only giving out a ticket. She eventually came up to the scene and saw that it was a car that had trouble, was sticking out a little into the highway, and was being shielded by the police car.
She was relieved and felt how emotionally exhausted she was. She realized she had not heard Mindy cry for some time. She looked back and saw Mindy lying on her right side asleep. She was probably exhausted, too. She was getting to like her more by the minute and was now very eager to get her home. She was hoping to get all the way home without stopping to sleep. They would arrive sometime in the middle of the night, but Jim would be glad to see her even if it meant losing some sleep.
By 7 she had to start looking for gas. Time rushed by as she played and replayed the same hopes and worries in her mind. She hated to have to get off the freeway. She would try to stay as close to it as possible. At the next town, she saw what looked like a small convenience gas station. Hopefully, Mindy wouldn't make a scene. She went to a self-service bay and noticed that some teenagers parked by the building kept looking in their direction. She hoped they were just admiring the van as she ran into the store to prepay. Mindy was still asleep as she left the van. She also bought supper--two cellophane-wrapped sandwiches, a large bag of Doritos sour-cream-flavored corn chips, and two packages of Hostess chocolate cupcakes with a cute stripe of white icing across the top. She tried to look for a toy for Mindy, something new to keep her busy, but there was nothing that would do. She hurried. Mindy could wake up at any second. At the counter, there were two people ahead. It was taking so long. The teenagers were still there. Finally she paid and went out to pump the gas. Mindy was still asleep. They were soon back on the freeway. It looked like the teenagers had only been waiting to use the public telephone. It had been a warm sunny day all the way. It was good not to have to struggle with bad weather.
It flashed on her that perhaps many of the people who were taking children were adoptive parents just like her. People like her might actually take better care of the children than their natural parents.
If they kept Mindy, they would have to come up with a good explanation on where they got her. She was dumbfounded. Maybe this would be their ultimate stumbling block. It didn't seem right that it could turn out that way. A simple solution came to her. They could tell everyone in Florida they had been able to adopt her in Michigan and everyone in Michigan that they had adopted her in Florida. Of course, they could be caught in a contradiction someday. Perhaps they could say they had adopted her in a neutral state--like Ohio. She tried to relax about that problem now. Surely they could come up with a convincing story.
Mindy woke up a half-hour later. She was quiet and started to play with the doll again. Lori tried to talk to her, and Mindy tried to say a few words back. It made Lori feel much better. It looked like Mindy was beginning to like her, too. She reached back and stroked her head momentarily but could barely reach her. Psalm 113:9 flashed through her mind: He gives the barren woman a home, making her the joyous mother of children.
After dark Lori had to get off the freeway to find a field they could use as a natural restroom. Luckily they found an unfenced farm lot. Mindy cried when they got out but luckily it wasn't loud. Lori always carried toilet paper on trips. After they got going again, Mindy kept playing with the doll and dishes as well as talking to Lori at different times until she fell asleep about 10 o'clock.
Lori was determined to get home that night without having to stop to sleep. Her thoughts went back to how she felt so incomplete not having a child. She thought of going back for counseling. She couldn't come up with an explanation for her feelings. They seemed deeply ingrained. At midnight she started to nod. She tried to ignore it, but it became increasingly difficult. She decided it would be safer for both of them if she stopped. The highway signs said Valdosta, Georgia. She thought of finding a motel to get some good, safe rest but worried about being seen. A small side road would be private, but then somebody might come up to hurt them. Instead she simply pulled to the shoulder of the freeway although she knew that would not be completely safe.
She got in the back to lie beside Mindy who then woke up and started crying. It sounded like a fearful cry. Lori embraced her. "Whoe, now, everything is all right. There's nothing to be afraid of. You can go back to sleep," she reassured, but Mindy tried to push her away. It hurt Lori to see this, but eventually Mindy allowed Lori to hold her closer. She cried herself back to sleep as Lori kissed the tears on her cheeks.
Lori couldn't fall asleep. The crickets and cicada seemed to be chirping extra loud tonight, the smell of fresh grass too strong a distraction. What if someone came up and tried something? Or what if the state police stopped just to check to see if they were all right and then recognized Mindy? She hated to have to stay there yet knew she shouldn't go on. After hours worrying and listening to the sounds of the passing cars, she fell asleep. It was a restless sleep, and in another hour, she was awake again. There was the beginning of daylight outside. As she lay there hoping she could sleep more, she felt pangs of guilt for taking Mindy. She imagined delivering Mindy to the police. She knew most people would say it was the right thing to do, but as she looked at Mindy lying there with what appeared a slight smile, she couldn't see how she could bring herself to do it.
Before they got going, Mindy, for the first time, wanted to sit in the front seat and seemed cheerful. They only had to drive a few hours more before they finally made it to Gainesville. Lori caressed her cheeks and stroked her hair frequently.
When they finally arrived, Mindy went readily into the house and seemed to like it. Jim was at work. Lori started to unpack, and then feeling very tired, she and Mindy took a long nap together. After waking up, Lori thought about how she would approach Jim but could decide on no definite plan. At six, Jim came home and was clearly glad to see Lori as he kissed and held her tightly.
"This is Mindy," she said.
"Oh, hi, Mindy," Jim said cheerfully as he knelt down to her level. He obviously took a liking to her right away. "I hope you'll like it here with us." They all made more small talk. Eventually Jim asked, "Which one of your cousins does she belong to?"
"None of them," said Lori. She had decided to face the issue head on.
"Who is she then?" he asked as he popped open a bottle of beer.
"I found her in the motel I stayed in yesterday."
"And what about her parents?"
"Oh, please, Jim, say you're not going to make me take her back." A look of shock came to his face that faded into a faint smile as he sat down.
The hot, dry August wind was just the way Dave Phillips remembered it in El Seco. It had been at least 10 years since he had been back, but childhood memories were still vivid. As he drove west on the freeway, he could see how the housing subdivisions had spread to the foothills. The city had been one of the fastest growing in the country. He had enjoyed his childhood here, and his parents had chosen to remain even though he had pleaded with them to move where they could be closer to him. They had in turn begged him to come back to El Seco, but it had been out of the question. He had established an excellent reputation as a neurosurgeon in New York, associated with Columbia Presbyterian Hospital. He worked longer hours than he liked but otherwise it was very satisfying to be at the top of his profession. Coming back to El Seco, even as the top surgeon in the city, would simply be out of the question. No matter how much he might enjoy coming back to live closer to his parents and in a place where he had developed early roots with people still around whom he remembered as childhood friends, he knew he wouldn't be happy. There wasn't a laboratory where he could become involved in research, something he thought he might like to do someday.
He wondered how El Seco was for a single man. There was certainly an abundance of women in New York City, but supposedly that wasn't the case here. An old friend had complained about that, but more importantly he said, many women didn't seem very impressed with a professional man. He was a sharp, good-looking accountant working in an established firm.
In spite of all, he still enjoyed coming back to see old friends and he was especially excited about this afternoon. He was driving to Michelino's, an old winery hidden in the hills on the west side of the city, near the Mexican border. The organizers of their 20th year high school reunion thought it would be a good spot to meet. It was supposed to be informal so Dave was wearing a pair of white shorts and a short-sleeved maroon polo shirt. He was looking forward to seeing many of the people from his Coronado High School class of 1970. He had known some of them since grammar school. There had been about 600 graduates, and he probably knew about 400 of them even if only distantly. He had taken out his old yearbooks last night to help him refresh his memory on names and faces.
In school, he had never been one of the popular people nor one of the members of the "in" social groups that came into existence, but he had distinguished himself by making good grades and coming out often on Dean's List. He hadn't been conscious of it at the time, but he had yearned to be popular and held in special esteem. He had thought about it in more recent years and realized how much of a force a feeling of inadequacy had been toward his drive to excel. He remembered how he had daydreamed of going on to be some great success and have everyone he had known in school talk of how great he was. They would tell their friends and remind their relatives that they had known him; it would make them speak proudly of having gone to school with him; the newspapers would refer to him every so often as a great El Secoan who had made a name for himself. At first he had dreamed of being a great baseball player who would be seen on television all the time. That fantasy faded as he found that he could rise to being no more than an average player on the high school baseball team. He found that he could shine in academics and so shifted his goal to becoming a doctor or engineer. His supporting dream of success stayed with him through high school, through college, and even to some extent, after he had already become a doctor.
Dave wondered about two people he remembered in particular. One was Margaret Hawkins who had turned him down when he had asked her to go to the Junior Prom. It had been an upsetting disappointment. It was true that he hadn't known her especially well, but he had been confident that she would accept. She didn't have a boyfriend; it was said she didn't even date very much. He had walked up to her in the hall right after English class and very calmly asked her if she would be his date. She said "no" politely, but curtly. It was immediately clear that she could not be moved to reconsider her firm decision, and she gave no explanation.
She showed up with someone else and he found another date, too. Her date had not been anyone special. Dave didn't think she knew him much better--spent the whole evening trying to figure out why the other guy and not him. His date was a girl he had known for many years from close by in his neighborhood. He had brooded on Margaret's rejection not only that evening but for a long time to come. Dave wondered now whether she had any regrets about that rejection. Lately he had caught himself fantasizing a little on what might happen if she were single like he. He had heard that she was still an extremely beautiful woman and so inevitably not one who would be in any way needy of men who would be interested in her. In fact, she had been so attractive that she had moved to Hollywood soon after graduation to seek a career as an actress.
As he drove up the hill and came within sight of the winery, he could feel nervousness. He had hardly seen any of the people in the intervening 20 years. He could hear music coming from the large, old stone building. Dave said "hi" near the entrance to a guy named Jay who was standing there as if waiting for someone. He was trying to remember his last name but couldn't. He hadn't known Jay very well.
The music was coming from an old jukebox, old songs from the time like "Tracy," by the Cufflinks, and there were already a hundred people. A band was setting up, Lonnie Leroux and the Lancers, made up mainly of graduates from the previous class of 1969. The first person Dave ran into was Fred Farrell. They hadn't seen each other since graduation, and Fred was jubilant. He introduced Dave to his wife who had gone to a high school on the east side of town. Fred was overweight but he had always been stocky. He had played tackle on the junior high football team. Dave had also been on the team but never went on to play in high school. He had always been very thin. They immediately went into exchanging the usual information on what each had been doing since the last time they had seen each other. Fred said he had been in insurance for many years and was impressed with Dave's accomplishments.
As Dave later talked to Mike Gonzalez who had been in American History and other classes with him, he kept looking out of the corner of his eye at different people and noticed Mike was being distracted in the same way. "God, there's a lot of people here I can't remember," Mike said chagrined. "Who's that over there? Is that Jenny Saunders?" Dave wasn't sure who it was, either. They both agreed that it was hard to recognize many of the others.
Dave then spotted Janet Stevens. She looked surprisingly attractive and youthful, about ten years younger. It was not that Janet had been ugly, she had just never looked this good before. It was not her looks, however, that made him eager to talk to her as much as memories that came back to him across the years. He remembered how she always beat him in grades in school. She sat in front of him in both fifth and sixth grades, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn't get better grades than her. In the early grades he hadn't really cared that much about grades, but he sometimes got it in his mind to beat Janet in a test and it was mainly because she seemed so arrogant. She was often bossy and most of the other kids would pick up on this and taunt her for it. Dave would try to get back at her by doing better in a test because she seemed to take so much pride in being at the top off the class. Sometimes he would get a better grade than her but that was rare. He wondered what her reaction would be when she found out what he was doing now.
As soon as he had the chance in the conversation, he found an excuse to walk to where Janet was talking with some of her former girlfriends. When he had the chance, he tapped her on the shoulder. "Hi, Janet."
"Dave, Dave Phillips," she exclaimed sounding almost ecstatic. "You look great. My God. I haven't seen you in so long. I think it was right after graduation."
"That sounds about right. You're looking great yourself, like about 10 years younger."
"Oh, come on now. Don't exaggerate. Do you remember Donna Rains and . . "
He remembered some of the other women vaguely and got reacquainted with them. After 10 minutes of mixed conversation, he had the chance to talk to Janet individually. "So are you in town or living somewhere else?" she asked him.
"I've been out of El Seco since graduation."
"You must have gone away to college?"
"Yes, I did."
"Where did you go?"
"Princeton."
"So what are you doing now?"
"I'm in New York. I'm in neurosurgery."
"Oh, isn't that something. We're both in the medical field. I've been a nurse for 15 years now. I've enjoyed it immensely most of the time, but I'm starting to get a little tired. I may take a few years and stay at home. My husband said it was fine with him. We could manage fine on just his income. What area did you say you were in?" She seemed a little distracted with the noise around.
"Neurosurgery."
"What exactly do you do?"
"I'm a doctor."
"Oh, a doctor. You're one of those. You all think you know so much, but I'll tell you I've trained many a young doctor in my day. Doctors just don't seem to appreciate how important we nurses are."
"I'm afraid you're probably right."
"Aside from all that money you guys get, I sure wouldn't want to be a doctor. Too much pressure, and you don't get the chance to really be personable with the patients. We nurses can do so much more good in that respect. Oh, Emily, Walt, it's great to see you," she turned to meet a couple that had gotten married after being high school sweethearts. A conversation got started with them and Dave sidled away before very long. He had not known the couple very well. He realized how she still felt superior even if she was below him in status.
He walked to the place where the kegs were located and after pouring himself a long-neck noticed Margaret Hawkins. He paused to get a good look at her as she stood talking to two men, who seemed entranced with her. That wasn't surprising. She looked as good as ever as she talked with her arms half-crossed, her left hand held at the side of her face, very composed. He wanted to talk to her but noticed how nervous he felt. He was determined to talk to her so he started walking across the room to where she was. How would she react to him? What were her thoughts now on what had happened back then? He hoped for a chance to talk to her privately, intimately.
"Hey, Dave, how you doing?" a friendly man engaged him in conversation. "Good to see you." The face was definitely familiar, but he couldn't get the name to come back to him. He kept trying to sneak a peek at the man's nametag but couldn't get a good look and didn't want him to notice his straining to see the name. After a couple of minutes, he remembered it was Leo Aceves. They talked for 15 minutes but it started to make Dave uneasy. He worried that Margaret might leave early. He wanted to talk much more to Leo. They had become good friends in chemistry class, but he hoped they could continue the conversation at a later time. Luckily someone else came up and Dave was soon able to excuse himself. Margaret was now surprisingly standing alone.
"Hi, Margaret. How've you been all these years? Remember me?"
"Uh," she hesitated a little. "I think so."
"I heard you had moved out to the West Coast."
"Yes, I've been there all this time. It's great. I love it."
"What are you doing now?"
"I'm afraid I have to confess, vain me. All these years I've been trying to be a star but haven't done much. I have managed to get some bit parts in some television shows recently."
"That's great. Most people don't even get that far no matter how hard they try."
"Yes, I've been thinking lately I ought to be pretty proud of myself, and on top of that, I've raised two nice kids." She stared ahead wistfully as if realizing that a woman approaching 40 couldn't go much further.
"Well, if you haven't made it big yet, it's not because of lack of good looks. It's a rough world out there in Hollywood. I think that's pretty well known by now."
"I hope so. I hope everybody doesn't think I haven't been working at it or that I have no talent because if there is anything I've found out for sure, it's that I am a good actress."
"I remember your being in Senior Play, and everybody thinking you had done real well. What was the play? The Crucible, wasn't it?"
"Yeah."
"I also remember you were just about the prettiest girl in school. All the guys always used to talk about you, including me. Do you remember me asking you to go to the Junior Prom?" David was surprised to find himself getting into the subject he had thought about for so many years. He didn't feel as nervous as he had at first.
"Uh, well, I, huh, think so." She now had a very confused look.
"I remember calling you on either a Saturday or Sunday afternoon. Of course, you seemed surprised since you didn't know me very well. I think we only knew each other because of Government class."
"Is that right?"
"I don't know why I thought you might possibly be interested in going with me to the prom. There were so many other guys you knew. What did you think when I called you? You sounded surprised."
"Well, I guess I . . ."
"I know, you probably already had a date."
"To tell you the truth, I've got a terrible memory and I . . ." At that moment an old girlfriend of Margaret's came up and touched her. They both yelled in surprise and hugged. They apparently hadn't seen each other for many years. They went on to a long conversation. Dave was not included and eventually faded away.
As he walked away, he felt disappointment. He felt the conversation had been going in the right direction. She seemed attentive and very sincere, but it was disappointing that they had not been able to go any further. He soon ran into a guy he had known since junior high and they started reminiscing.
As they were talking, Dave noticed Ricky Inman standing across the room. If there was anyone he was more curious about than even Margaret Hawkins, it was Ricky Inman. He hadn't changed that much except for a decided expansion of the breadbasket. Actually Dave could see, from the beer Ricky was holding in his hand, that it would more properly be called a "beerbasket." His face was still very recognizable.
He had first known Ricky Inman in the fifth grade and suffered perhaps the most traumatic experience in his life because of him. It had left a deep-felt impression that still remained in his consciousness. He hardly knew Ricky at the time. He was in another class and didn't live in his neighborhood. One day while in the schoolyard during lunch, Ricky came up and said some boys told him that Dave was the one who had taken the air out of his bicycle tires. Dave immediately protested that he hadn't done such a thing, but Ricky wouldn't listen and instead threw him on the ground and started slugging him hard. He was mad. He was also 20 pounds heavier than Dave. He yelled, trying to tell Ricky that he didn't even know what his bike looked like but Ricky went on to push Dave's face into the ground as he lay on top of him. The ground had been covered with gravel that now cut sharply into his face. The bell rang and Ricky finally got off.
In the classroom, Dave sat numbly. He could hear the teacher talking in what seemed a faint distance but he wasn't listening. His face was burning from the gravel cuts, and his body was aching. Worst of all was the mixture of humiliation and anger that seemed to override all his senses at the moment. It was an experience that he had never forgotten. For several weeks, his mind kept returning obsessively to the incident, replaying every painful detail. He thought about revenge and started studying how to become a better fighter, but the chance never came for a rematch. Years later in high school, Ricky was still a tough guy, running around with a hard crowd, but Dave had been able to overcome most of the bitterness. He eventually realized that it was this incident that probably started the fantasy of becoming a great success. He wondered how Ricky was doing now. Ricky had never distinguished himself in school in any way. He hadn't heard anything about him after graduation. Dave thought about he would go over to talk to Ricky. He wondered whether to bring up the time Ricky had beat him up in fifth grade.
Dave went to get another beer as he thought about the approach he would take. After talking to Jeff Solaroff briefly, he walked over to Ricky.
"Hi, Ricky. How you been? Remember me?" Ricky looked at him quizzically but was friendly. Dave noticed that his nametag said, "Richard Inman."
"Uh . . ."
"Dave Phillips."
"Oh, O.K."
"We met in fifth grade. We weren't in the same class, but I remember knowing you."
"Fifth grade? I don't know I remember anything that far back," he said with a chuckle.
"We used to play in the playground sometimes. Then in high school you used to hang around with Jimmy Perez who lived a couple of blocks from me."
"Oh, yea, good ole Jimmy. I see him every once in a while. He still hasn't changed much."
"Remember Jimmy used to give me a ride to school sometimes?"
Ricky wrinkled his brow, "I'm really sorry, but I just can't place you, and, hey, you're not the only one. There's already been a couple of other people who said they knew me but I couldn't remember them. Lucky I didn't have to admit it to them." He laughed. Dave was impressed with how gentle and sincere he seemed. "So what kind of work are you in?" he asked Dave.
"I'm a doctor."
"Sounds great. I've been doing pretty good as a truck driver. The only bad thing is I have to be on the road away from home so much, but my wife is very understanding. Do you know Terry?" he asked as he turned to her sitting down next to him. She smiled as she and Dave exchanged greetings. They had never met, but Dave was surprised that it was Terry Owens, one of the most beautiful girls in the class behind them. He had admired her in high school. He now remembered hearing that they had gotten married soon after high school. "The money's unbelievably good," he continued. "I made $60,000 last year, and I like getting out there on the road. Wouldn't trade anything in the world for it. No offense, but I wouldn't want to be a doctor. Too much hassle, and you have to be cooped up inside all the time. I've got to be out. Yeah, we've done real well." They talked a little longer then someone Richard knew came up to greet him, and Dave quietly walked away.
He felt frustrated and confused. He hadn't gotten the feeling that Richard was trying to put him down in any way. He seemed completely sincere and straightforward. He liked Richard now. It had been like getting acquainted with a complete stranger.
As Dave gathered a few finger sandwiches and salad items on his plate, a friendly woman started talking to him. She seemed very jovial. He didn't remember her at all. After they filled their plates, they stepped aside and kept talking.
"My name's Cindy, Cindy Waltermire." Dave strained to remember her but couldn't. He told her his name, and before he could say much else, she said, "If you can't remember me, don't worry. Hardly anybody else does and I don't remember you. As a matter of fact, I'm sure I never knew you. You see I moved to the Coronado area in the middle of senior year and hardly got to know anybody. I knew there wouldn't be much use in coming, but I decided to anyway. I figured there was really nothing to lose."
"Hey, I think it was a great idea. Even if you don't know that many people, you still have a lot in common with us." Dave actually felt relieved that they didn't know each other.
"I've met some great people and had a lot of fun. How long did you live in the area?"
"Oh, I've known some of the people here since third grade."
"Oh, my. Listen, don't let me hold you up. You must have a lot of people you have to talk to. You better go on and stop wasting your time with me."
"Hey, don't worry. You're fun to talk to. Besides I'm bored trying to talk to my old friends." Dave and Cindy talked for a very long time and got to know each other.
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