Class of '59 (American Journey Book 4)

by John A. Heldt

  "OK. It's killing me."

  Piper laughed hard.

  "I needed that."

  "Don't gloat," Ben said. "I could still turn suicidal."

  "Please don't."

  "I won't if you laugh and smile more often."

  Piper looked at the driver with amusement in her eyes.

  "Do you like my laugh and smile, Mr. Ryan?"

  "I like a lot of things."

  "Then I'll laugh and smile more often."

  "You do that," Ben said.

  Ben smiled as he moved into and out of the left lane to pass an overloaded produce truck. He felt good about the brief exchange. He could finally talk to this difficult woman.

  "What time are Mark and Mary Beth expecting us for dinner?" Piper asked.

  "Five," Ben said.

  "Do you think we'll get there in time?"

  "I doubt it. If this traffic gets any worse, we may not get there till six. You may actually have to talk to me."

  Piper smiled.

  "Do I have to?"

  "Yes," Ben said.

  "OK. I'll talk to you. Let me ask you a question."

  "Fire away."

  "Do you like Vicki Cole?" Piper asked.

  Ben turned his head.

  "I used to like Vicki Cole."

  "Does she like you?"

  "Why wouldn't she?" Ben asked.

  Piper sighed and shook her head.

  "You are so full of yourself. That's why I don't like talking to you."

  Ben grinned.

  "Why do you want to know if Vicki likes me?"

  "I'm just curious," Piper said matter-of-factly.

  Ben glanced again at his passenger and saw a thoughtful look on her face. He could see that she actually cared about his answer.

  "I don't know what she thinks of me, to tell you the truth," Ben said. "I haven't spoken to her much in the past month. We didn't break up on the best of terms."

  "So I hear."

  "Have you been checking me out?"

  "I have," Piper said. "I hear you're quite the player."

  "What's a player?"

  "It's a guy who plays the field. It's someone who collects girls like coins and throws them out when they have outlived their usefulness."

  "Who told you I was a 'player'?" Ben asked. "You're making that up."

  "No, I'm not."

  "It's all a lie. I'm as humble and chaste as a monk."

  Piper laughed.

  "I'll believe that when I see it."

  Ben paused to consider that comment. It was as loaded as a hunting rifle.

  "You don't think I can be a gentleman?"

  "No," Piper said.

  "Then let me prove it to you."

  "I don't like where this is going."

  "The Spring Fling is coming up," Ben said.

  "What's the Spring Fling?"

  "It's a hop."

  "Do you mean a dance?" Piper asked.

  "I mean a dance," Ben said. He looked at his passenger and smiled. "What are you doing Saturday night?"

  CHAPTER 19: MARY BETH

  Laguna Beach, California – Friday, March 27, 1959

  Mary Beth ran out of the surf like she was fleeing a shark. She liked swimming and loved the ocean, but she did not like or love bathing in water that was at least twenty degrees cooler than the Gulf of Mexico.

  "The water is freezing," Mary Beth said.

  Mark laughed as he handed her a dry towel.

  "I take it you're used to something warmer."

  "I'm used to something much warmer."

  "Then next time I'll take you to San Diego."

  "You do that."

  Mary Beth toweled off her cold, wet, shivering body and then placed her towel next to Mark's on a boulder. She didn't know if the waters off San Diego were any warmer than the ones off Laguna Beach, but she was more than ready to give them a try.

  "Do you want to go for a walk?" Mark asked.

  Mary Beth nodded.

  Mark placed his arm around Mary Beth as they started to walk, but he pulled it back a minute later and let it drop to his side. Despite his obvious interest in the time traveler from Huntsville, Alabama, he was not yet comfortable demonstrating that interest in an affectionate way.

  "Thanks for bringing me here," Mary Beth said. "This is really nice."

  "Don't mention it," Mark replied.

  "I still can't believe you skipped two classes. For someone who wants to 'focus on academics' and 'graduate with honors,' you sure play hooky a lot."

  Mark smiled.

  "I'm not missing anything important. I brought you here today because I knew we would have the beach mostly to ourselves. That wouldn't be the case tomorrow or Sunday. This place is packed on weekends."

  "I believe it," Mary Beth said.

  She smiled at the engineering student at her side and then turned her attention to the rock outcroppings that punctuated the beach. She decided she could live in a place like this.

  The two walked in blissful silence for another five minutes and took in the sights. A surfer on a large wooden board navigated small waves. Seagulls fought over what looked like the carcass of a fish. An elderly man picked up shells and placed them in a bag.

  Mark finally broke the silence with a question that took Mary Beth by surprise.

  "Who is Jordan?"

  Mary Beth slowly met his gaze.

  "He was my fiancé."

  "Did you say was?" Mark asked.

  Mary Beth nodded.

  "He died eight months ago – or at least eight months ago as I measure time. He was shot in a holdup at a convenience store."

  Mark stopped.

  "I'm so sorry. I can't imagine getting news like that."

  "I didn't get any news," Mary Beth said. "I was there."

  "You saw him get shot?"

  She nodded.

  "He died in my arms."

  Mark sighed.

  "I feel stupid now."

  "Don't feel stupid," Mary Beth said. "You asked an honest question."

  Mark looked at her.

  "I still feel stupid."

  Mary Beth did not respond to the statement. She instead shifted her focus to a slightly different matter as the two resumed their stroll down the sandy beach.

  "How did you learn about Jordan?"

  "Piper mentioned him in passing the other day," Mark said. "I didn't press her for more information, but I figured he was someone important."

  "He was," Mary Beth said.

  "What was he like?"

  Mary Beth took a deep breath. What a question, she thought. How did one describe Jordan Taylor in a nutshell? How did she describe him to someone she wanted to impress?

  "He was a lot like you," Mary Beth said. "He was smart, thoughtful, and kind, the type of person most people want in their lives."

  "Did he have any interests?" Mark asked.

  Mary Beth laughed.

  "It's funny you ask."

  "Why is that?"

  "Jordan was really into the 1950s," Mary Beth said. "He loved this era. He loved the movies, the music, the TV shows, and especially the cars. He was in the process of restoring a '57 Chevy when he died. I think he would have loved talking to Ben."

  "I'm sure he would have," Mark said. "Did you share his interest?"

  "I didn't at first. I thought his obsession was nutty. Then I started checking out some of the things he liked. I began watching a lot of movies that were set in the late fifties or early sixties. I must have seen Grease, Pleasantville, and American Graffiti at least a dozen times."

  "That's commitment."

  Mary Beth chuckled.

  "That was just the beginning. I also went to fifties functions and fundraisers and listened to a lot of old music. Within a few months, I was as into this time as he was. I even insisted on having a fifties-themed reception at our wedding."

  "That's funny," Mark said.

  Mary Beth smiled as she considered the irony of befriending a man who actually was from th
e 1950s. She wondered how Jordan would have spent a day in 1959, if given the chance.

  She also wondered what she could do with a friendship that was doomed to end and feelings that would not go away. As much as she wanted to enjoy Mark's company indefinitely, she knew she could not. Her sojourn to the fifties was as temporary as a sand castle.

  Mary Beth pondered the coming weeks as she and Mark approached a cluster of rocks that essentially cut the beach in half. She felt a twinge of sadness and then a spark of electricity when Mark took her hand and led her through the rocks and back onto the beach.

  "Do you mind if I hold your hand?" Mark asked.

  "No," Mary Beth said. She giggled. "I don't mind at all."

  She smiled again as she pondered his question. What kind of man asked a woman if he could hold her hand? What kind of man opened car doors? A gentleman, she thought.

  They walked another hundred yards in silence until they approached a bevy of boulders. The rocky obstruction marked the turnaround point in their mile-long stroll.

  Mary Beth released Mark's hand and walked about twenty feet to the largest boulder. A moment later, she sat on top of the rock, patted the space next to her, and smiled.

  "Sit!"

  Mark laughed.

  "Someone's feeling assertive today."

  Mary Beth grinned.

  "I'm a fan of succinct commands."

  "Giving them or taking them?"

  "Sit!"

  Mark laughed again and did as commanded. He climbed up on the massive rock, sat next to Mary Beth, and threw his arm around her.

  "Is this better?"

  "Yes."

  Mary Beth said no more for the next several minutes. She leaned into Mark's side and stared blankly at an ocean that had grown more restless during their walk.

  "You seem deep in thought," Mark said.

  "I am."

  "What are you thinking about?"

  "I'm thinking about a lot of things," Mary Beth said.

  "The plot thickens."

  Mary Beth took a breath.

  "Do you ever think about the craziness of all this?"

  "I do," Mark said. "I do all the time."

  "I'm looking at a world that my parents never saw and a lot of older people from my time can't remember. I'm still trying to wrap my head around that."

  Mark tightened his hold.

  "Do you like the fifties?"

  Mary Beth nodded.

  "I know many in 2017 don't share my view. They see how we treated black people, women, and others and wonder how anyone could view this time with anything but scorn, but I think they miss the point. People here seem happier. They talk. They play. They enjoy life. Too many from my time isolate themselves from others and stare at plastic screens."

  "Surely you miss some things," Mark said.

  "I do. I even miss some of the gadgets with plastic screens, but I don't miss everything. I like it here. I like the people," Mary Beth said. She paused. "I like you."

  Mark lessened his hold on Mary Beth, leaned forward, and looked at his new friend like someone he had just discovered. He placed his free hand on her face, turned it toward his, and gave her a long, soft kiss.

  Mary Beth sighed and burrowed into Mark's side. Then she smiled and looked again at the surging sea. In just a few seconds, her troubled life had taken a turn for the better. It had also, she realized, become infinitely more complicated.

  CHAPTER 20: PIPER

  South Pasadena, California – Saturday, March 28, 1959

  Piper tapped her right foot in front of her left, brought it back, and tapped it again as she slowly worked her way toward the front of a conga line. She didn't need to remember to step, cross, and step. She had learned "The Stroll" in a dance class and knew the steps by heart.

  So, apparently, did Ben. He tapped, stepped, and crossed with precision in the same position in the facing queue. Like most of his classmates, no doubt, he had done this before.

  Piper smiled at Ben when he smiled at her. She didn't trust him. She still wasn't sure she even liked him, but for the first time since he had asked her to the Spring Fling, she conceded that he was probably a decent guy. He certainly knew how to surprise a girl.

  Tap. Tap. Tap. Step. Cross. Step.

  Piper watched with interest as another boy and another girl stepped forward at the head of the lines, met in the middle, and strolled to the other end. She loved "The Stroll" and the song of the same name, which an Anaheim band named Otis and the Operators covered to perfection.

  Piper smiled again at Ben and then turned to other things. No matter where she looked, she saw something new, iconic, or interesting. Blue and white crepe streamers hung from the rafters of the gym. Tables of refreshments lined the walls. Boys in button-down shirts and cuffed slacks and girls in crisp blouses and knee-length skirts filled every section of the floor.

  The time traveler saw pompadours and ponytails, wingtips and saddle shoes, and enough bobby socks to fill fifty chests. When she took in the trappings of the Spring Fling, she saw more than two hundred students enjoy themselves on a Saturday night. She saw the fifties on parade.

  Tap. Tap. Tap. Step. Cross. Step.

  Piper looked at Ben as they reached the head of their respective lines and noticed that his silly grin had morphed into something resembling a thoughtful smile. Was this a sign of humility? She hoped so. She returned his smile, took a breath, and stepped forward.

  Piper laughed when she met Ben in the middle. She had no idea how he wanted to proceed between the rows. Couples at this point did their own thing. She guessed from watching others that Ben might go with the standard step. She guessed right.

  The pair joined hands, came together, turned away, and then turned back as they began their slow journey between two rows of smiling schoolmates. The journey was electric.

  Piper drew energy from every touch and turn. She gained confidence with every step. She could not imagine a more exhilarating public experience. This was what she had wanted when she had thrown caution to the wind. This was her fifties experience.

  A dozen touches and turns later, Piper and Ben reached the end of the aisle, separated, and headed for the back of the gym. They finally met up at a table bearing large bowls of punch.

  "Well, that was fun!" Piper said.

  Ben grinned.

  "I see you've done this before."

  "I learned 'The Stroll' in a dance class. But trust me when I say I've never performed it with a cocky ladies' man in 1959," Piper said. She laughed. "That part is new."

  Ben chuckled.

  "You're not going to let that go, are you?"

  Piper grinned.

  "Nope."

  Ben smiled and then looked at Piper thoughtfully.

  "Do you want some punch?"

  She shook her head.

  "No, thanks. I just want to stand here a minute and take it all in."

  "OK."

  As the band finished "The Stroll," Piper scanned the gym and looked for familiar faces. She saw more than a few. Tina Green, a girl in her literature class, snuggled up to her boyfriend. Peggy Henderson, a fellow student in civics, straightened her date's collar. Two girls from gym class spoke to each other in an animated fashion. Chip Bennett, prom king candidate, shared a laugh with another boy. Bunny Martinez, his would-be queen, had apparently hopped away.

  Piper gazed at the scene for another minute as the band started playing "Blue Moon." Then she turned to the boy who had picked her up in a red Thunderbird and brought her to the dance.

  "Thanks for bringing me."

  Ben grinned.

  "Are you having fun?"

  Piper laughed.

  "You know the answer to that question."

  Piper started to say something else but stopped when she saw a bubbly blonde, her first girlfriend in the Age of Eisenhower, approach the punch table. She laughed as Sally Warner, dressed in pink, pulled her hunky date across the floor like he was a little red wagon.

  "You two are hilari
ous," Piper said.

  "There you are," Sally said. "I've been looking for you all night. Where have you been?"

  Piper pointed at Ben with her head.

  "I've been dancing with this guy. Believe it or not, he knows how to dance."

  Sally laughed. She turned to her date.

  "I told you she was funny."

  "Is this your letterman?" Piper asked.

  "He is. This is my boyfriend, Wayne Bridges," Sally said. She turned to her male companion. "Wayne, this is my friend Piper McIntire. We met in our literature class. She says she's an Army brat from Germany, but she's really a redneck from Alabama."

  Ben and Piper laughed.

  "It's nice to meet you," Wayne said.

  "You too," Piper replied.

  "Have you been here all night?" Sally asked.

  Piper shook her head.

  "We arrived about an hour ago. Mr. Ryan insisted on taking me to dinner and cruising Colorado Avenue before coming here. I think he wanted to show me off."

  Ben smiled and nodded.

  "I would show you off too if I were a boy," Sally said. "I love your dress."

  "Thanks," Piper said. "My sister picked it out."

  Piper smiled as she revisited the start of her day. She had spent three hours shopping for a dress and two more looking for shoes at some of Pasadena's finest stores. She finally settled on a floral swing dress and a pair of snazzy white flats.

  "Are you having a good time?" Sally asked.

  "I'm having a great time," Piper said. "I never thought a dance could be so much fun."

  "This is nothing. Wait until you go to the prom."

  Piper nodded but did not reply. She did not know what to say about a dance that was still four weeks away, an event she might never see. Since enrolling at Midway High School, she had thought of the prom as little more than a coronation for a king and a queen. Now she thought of it as something she might actually attend and perhaps enjoy.

  She gazed again at the masses in the middle of the gym and this time saw something that did not bring a smile to her face. She braced herself for trouble as Vicki Cole, the blond, blue-eyed queen wannabe, pulled Bill Corning, her reluctant date, toward the party of four.

  "Hi, Ben," Vicki said a moment later. "I didn't see you arrive. Who is this?"

  "This is Piper McIntire," Ben said. "She just moved here."

  "So I hear."