179: I told my parents . . .
Little Follies, “Take the Long Way Home,” Chapter 16
16
I TOLD MY PARENTS that I wasn’t feeling well, and I went up to bed right after dinner, at about the time that Jack was dropping Stretch and Veronica off at the high school parking lot. I lay in my bed and tried to form in my mind a clear image of what Veronica and Stretch were doing.
Three buses were waiting in front of the high school when they arrived. They got out of the car, and Jack drove away.
“Which bus should we take?” Stretch asked.
“I don’t know,” said Veronica.
A line of very big boys and girls stood at the door to each of the buses. Boarding the first bus was that sad group of boys and girls who remain awkward throughout adolescence, who never find a cure for their acne, who either can’t lose weight or can’t gain weight, who are too tall or too short, too smart or too outspoken. Since Veronica and Stretch were so out of place, so much younger than the others, they probably belonged on that bus. Boarding the second bus were the clean-cut boys and girls with whom my mother would have wanted me to ride if I had taken Veronica. The third bus, however, was Bus Six.
“Oh look, this is Bus Six,” Veronica said. “It’s the bus Porky White drives. Let’s get on this one.”
They did.
“Let’s sit in the back,” said Veronica.
“Sure,” Stretch said. “Anywhere you want.”
The back of the bus was filled with smoke, loud talking, and boys and girls in leather jackets. Veronica and Stretch walked into the smoke, and one of the boys said, “Get lost, kids. These seats are taken. You’re on the wrong bus.”
“Yeah, I guess we are,” Stretch said. He grabbed Veronica’s sleeve and turned to go.
“Shut up, stupid,” said one of the girls, punching the boy on the shoulder and grabbing Veronica’s other sleeve. “They can sit right here,” said the girl. She pulled them onto the seat beside her, where in fact there was plenty of room for them.
“I think you kids look so cute,” the girl said.
“What’s your name, cutie?” asked another boy. He reached from behind Veronica and put his hands on her shoulders, brought his face next to hers. His breath was dank and sour.
“Veronica,” said Veronica. Her voice sounded a little hollow, but she smiled when she gave her name, and after she had spoken she tilted her head upward bravely and batted her eyelashes.
“And what’s your name, kid?” the boy asked.
Stretch stuck his chin out and said, “Stretch,” in a voice as deep as he could manage.
“That’s it, Stretch, don’t be afraid of him,” said another girl who was leaning over the back of the seat in front of them. “He’s just a big jerk. Knock it off, Sal,” she said to the big jerk.
Sal didn’t say anything to her, but he gave her a weaselly, calculating look. Then he gave Veronica a squeeze, pulling her back toward him. He bent his head downward and in a stage whisper asked her, “Veronica, you want a little drink?”
The girl in front of them looked furious. “If you don’t leave them alone, I’ll never talk to you again, Sal,” she said. Her teeth were clenched, and so were her fists.
“Hey,” said Sal. “Don’t get all upset with me. Stretch and Veronica are here because they want to play with the big kids.” He snapped Stretch’s ear. “Isn’t that right?” he asked.
“Oh, sure,” Stretch said.
“There you are,” said Sal. He flipped his hand in the air in a gesture that meant: “There you have it; there can be no further argument; the evidence that you have just heard is so conclusive that any unbiased observer would agree that the matter is settled.”
The girl pounded her fists once on the back of the seat and said “Ooooh!” She spun forward again, away from Sal, and slumped down so that her head was hardly visible. Sal made with his free hand a gesture, the meaning of which, “Fuck you,” I didn’t learn for another couple of months.
By the time the bus reached the skating rink, Stretch and Veronica knew the names of most of the boys and girls around them, their breath smelled of bourbon, and their cheeks were flushed. They emerged as the stars of the evening. They were certainly the best skaters there, and the girls were able to admire Veronica without feeling jealous, since she was so much younger than they, only a child, while the boys were able to toss her around like a basketball, and they lined up for an opportunity to do so. Finally, the lights began to flash, and the skaters drifted off the rink, removed their skates, and boarded the bus. Shortly after Porky pulled out of the parking lot, the lights inside the bus went out. Stretch and Veronica peered into the darkness around them, squinting to try to make out just what the older boys and girls were doing. When Stretch put his hand on Veronica’s thigh, I smiled, stretched out in the cozy warmth of my bed, and fell asleep.
[to be continued on Monday, January 24, 2022]
You can listen to this episode on the Personal History podcast.
In Topical Guide 179, Mark Dorset considers Teenage Youths, Behavior of, as Observed First-Hand, in 1950-something; Teenage Youths, Behavior of, as Imagined by a Pre-Teen, in 1950-something; and Teenage Youths, Behavior of, as Depicted in Popular Culture, 1950s from this episode.
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You can begin reading at the beginning or you can catch up by visiting the archive or consulting the index to the Topical Guide.
You can listen to the episodes on the Personal History podcast. Begin at the beginning or scroll through the episodes to find what you’ve missed.
At Apple Books you can download free eBooks of “My Mother Takes a Tumble,” “Do Clams Bite?,” “Life on the Bolotomy,” “The Static of the Spheres,” “The Fox and the Clam,” and “The Girl with the White Fur Muff,” the first six novellas in Little Follies.
You’ll find an overview of the entire work in An Introduction to The Personal History, Adventures, Experiences & Observations of Peter Leroy. It’s a pdf document.