Strike ??

ONE MORE TIME

 

Sweet 16 is oh, so sweet. As Howard and I walk around the block just before sunset takes hold, his arm is around my waist. We smell the lilacs blooming, hear the bees buzzing around honeysuckle vines. Howard watches the bees carefully and takes a chance, picks some honeysuckle from the upper branches. We suck the sweet nectar and kiss for the first time. I hear no bells, no angels singing but am aware his hand is inching up my back. It feels nice and dangerous at the same time. He breaks the spell that is already enveloping me when he sees his watch and has to hurry home for supper. We hasten our steps and Howard leaves blows me a kiss as he leaves me standing at my doorstep.

 

My parents are at the kitchen table waiting for me. They scold me for not being there by 5:45. 'You have homework, don't you, Babs?' Dad asks. Mom scowls and warns me not to get too close to Howard. 'He's barely 17 and feeling his oats. Did he kiss you already?' I am very embarrassed and lie. 'Not yet, Mom.' When we finish supper and the dishes are washed, Mom beckons me to follow her. In the dining room corner she warns me again not to let Howard get fresh with me. Inside, I am dying to tell her that I love Howard but don't. Her last words are given as she shakes her warning finger at me. 'I'm warning you, Kiddo, he's no good.'

 

Howard and I enjoy our spring evening walks, coming inside just a little later each time. My parents, most reluctantly, give us privacy by going upstairs at 8:30. By November one, I am worried, don't know how to tell Mom I think I am pregnant. I can't, just can't do it. November 5 I don't have to tell her. She hears me gagging in the bathroom sink every morning, skipping breakfasts, sees my skirts getting tighter. Mom and Dad ask no questions. Mom cries a lot. Dad's face is stern, often red. Howard tells me that my parents called his and they want a powwow.
They have it with Howard and me waiting in the den. The four parents are finished for the time being and I am told I will be getting married before Christmas. My imagined beautiful wedding gown disappears. I won't walk down the aisle and will have a minister I have never met before and will never see again turn me into Mrs. Howard Smulyan.

 

Our baby is born prematurely, weighs a little less than two pounds. In spite of the excellent care at the hospital, she does not survive. I cry for days yet know in my heart this is the way god meant it to be. Howard and I file for a divorce. It goes thru quickly and is final in June. My X and I go our separate ways.

 

My folks worry about me, pity me and offer me a chance to go to Junior college, make something of my life. We look for a good school that won't be too costly, that is close enough for me to use public transportation, and find we hit upon Ventura. Jr. College. My high school credits are sufficient, my grades not great but acceptable. Dad writes the check for the first year, $3000. There are books on nursing, medical journals I must buy. Dad lays out another $200. I hug him, kiss him, promise to do well and I knuckle down. Everything goes smoothly for a while. It takes at least 3/4 of an hour each way  on two buses for me to attend. I never gripe to my dad.

 

This is no Ivy League school but will give me a career and a chance to re-pay my dad. The bus offers me a chance to meet other students taking a variety of courses. Usually I can get a window seat, study.  Sometimes I have an empty place beside me where I can stash my books. On a very windy, rainy afternoon in October, every seat is taken except the one that has my study stuff. A young man asks me if he can sit with me. Can I tell him 'no?' I can't, close my work and stack all of it on my lap. He introduces himself as Bat Masterson, smiles and changes it to Barry. 'You can call me 'Bat, everyone does.' Bat is enrolled in Nursing Psychology. Coincidental, I feel. He will be a male nurse and I hope to be a PA. As he explains, I learn his course takes five years and he is in his third already. I have two ½ more years to be accredited to work with a doctor. Our bus travel time flies. We try to meet daily and then add a few light suppers in a delly or cafeteria. By then we add cuddling in his room, kisses getting hotter for an entire week. It leads to, oh, well, must I spell it out?  'S E X.' It is nothing like I remember with Howard. This is exciting, warm, wonderful. We both agree to be careful. No babies, no diseases. I meet the Mastersons. The Master- sons meet my family. My mom invites them over for a social evening.
They beg off. Mom gives them two more date choices and finally gets it. They want Bat to do better. They don't know him too well, don't know me at all. We know we are in love and elope to Elkton, MD where marriages are performed legally and quickly. It takes a lot of guts for me to tell Dad about the new marriage. Again my mother cries. My father's face becomes crimson. Bat moves into my small college room. Neither of us understand why we are arguing so much about nothings. The arguments get longer and stronger until Bat hauls off and clips me on the chin. My front middle bottom tooth cracks. 'Bat, you have to pay my dental bill,' I tell him but he says he won't. 'Take your things, Bat, and get out of here now or I'm calling the campus patrol.' He hits me again, packs his clothes, slams the door and is gone. It's tough but I notify my parents that I am going to divorce Bat but will finish my studies. There is a long three way silence. It takes a full year before I am free again and a practicing P.A.

 

Dr. Martin Kern interviews me and a dozen other P.A. hopefuls. He selects three. I am one of them. We each get a week of training as to what he expects, what our duties are to him and his patients. Dora, one of the three is let go and the race is now between Cybil and me. She gets the job. My disappointment doesn't deter me. I apply to Dr. Williams who is in the same building as Kern. What with my previous dry run, I know how to sound more experienced. And Wow! I am hired.

Dr. Williams tells me his patients like me a lot and adds more to my schedule. He, they and I all profit from the additional work. Evidently, my assistance has freed the doctor enough to keep his office open on Thursday evenings from six to eight thirty. I get a decent raise and an offer to dinner when he closes the office.

 

I like him, like him a lot but he's a speck old for me. I tell him I'm busy this Thursday. If he is disappointed, it doesn't show. The next week he invites me to dinner again. The difficult choice is mine, go out with him or lose my job. I love my work . What the hell, this time has to be right.

 

It isn't.