Fall. It is the one season that brings back the most memories for me. For some people, childhood memories revolve around summer, but not for me. Fall brought the beginning of school, football season, cool evenings, and falling leaves. Those memories are so deeply rooted in the season; a flickering thought can trigger a feeling. From the dusty crevices and corners of my mind, I can revisit the first night the air, which had been warmly blowing through my window all summer, changed to a chill, causing me to burrow deeper into the patchwork quilt covering my bed. It is incredible such a crisp, cool thought could produce such warm sensations.
While the moisture droplets from our breaths froze into tiny crystals which floated and lingered in the air around us, we waited for the theater to open. Growing up in Forgan where there wasn’t a lot to do; going to the theater was at the top of a very short list. There were basketball games, and school activities on Friday nights, the fall carnival, the spring dance, and the county fair over in Beaver City. Those were always enjoyable times--times when we could gather with our friends, and enjoy being together. But aside from that, there wasn’t much more than the theater. That’s why so many of the high school kids went to Liberal on Saturday nights.
Our little theater, with its stucco front and rickety seats, was not a place big-city kids would appreciate, but the group which gathered each Saturday night in our small Oklahoma town saw it as a real treat. It gave us an opportunity for recreation and socializing. It provided distraction and prodded our imaginations. It wasn’t fancy or even state-of-the-art, but it served a purpose. It was operated by an elderly woman who, I am sure, realized idle minds lead to trouble. The theater was her contribution, her offering to us as a way of escape from such trouble.
Mrs. Dawson would never have gotten rich keeping it open. In fact, she probably struggled to break even. And at our age, we didn’t realize the sacrifices she was making to bring in those movies, but we did know she did it just for us. There was no way we could deny it. Her admission charges were a fraction of the amount the theaters in neighboring towns charged. Popcorn would have been free if she had sold it any cheaper. She always kept our favorite candy in stock, and if kids asked for something she didn’t have, it would usually be there the next time they visited.
If it was our birthday, we got in free. Of course, we were on the honor system there, but we all knew better than to try to have more than one birthday per year. For eighth grade graduation, the class got to pick the movie, and they all got in free.
As gruff as she tried to be sometimes, we all had her figured out. We never gave her any sass. From time to time we would get a little rowdy, but if she showed up with her flashlight, we knew it was time to settle down. We showed her the respect she deserved, and she continued to take care of the kids in that town for many, many years.
We were in the eighth grade. Mrs. Dawson was showing Rocky and, though the movie was old by the time it came to Forgan, Sylvester Stallone was still cool with the all the guys. The girls liked him too, but only because of all of those muscles.
I was there with Lenny Thompson, Sally’s older brother. Henry was there with Sally. To be honest, that’s the real reason I was with Lenny. I thought if I went with an older boy, then Henry might get jealous. In my mind, I had reasoned he would fly into a rage at seeing me with someone else, dumping Sally in the process. It’s funny how we can concoct our own little worlds, letting our imaginations run wild.
Lenny was a freshman. He had a lively smile highlighted by deep-dimpled cheeks. His eyes were dark brown pools, and he had thick wavy chestnut hair. He was athletic, and he was cute, but he wasn’t Henry.
We went in and found our seats. The back rows were unofficially reserved for the high school kids. Only the little kids sat in the front. So, that left the middle for the rest of us. J.B. was on the other end of our row with some boys from his class. Occasionally, I caught him looking our way.
After everyone had settled into their seats, the lights would be turned down, and Mrs. Dawson would run upstairs to start the projector. She was kind of a husky woman and she wore big, thick-soled shoes. We called them nurse’s shoes. When we heard her clomp up the steps to the projector, we knew the movie was about to start.
She usually showed a few cartoons before the main feature started. Sometimes during the cartoons, while there was still a little bit of restless energy in the room, the little kids down in the front would elicit high-pitched yelps as the boys behind them threw ice from their cups. They, in turn responded by throwing handfuls of popcorn, which would go way up into the air and cast their shadows on the screen. Then Mrs. Dawson would come down the aisle with her flashlight to quiet things down. On her way back up the isle she would, on occasion, stop to put the flashlight beam on a high school couple she thought might be getting a little carried away with their necking. That generally cooled things off, at least a few minutes.
I sat between Sally and Lenny Thompson. The girls usually sat together like that. I am not sure exactly why, I guess for the same reason we often go to the restroom together. It gives us an opportunity to whisper the things we don’t want the boys to hear, and kind of update the other as to how the evening is going.
Out of the corner of my left eye, I saw Henry cautiously put his arm over the back of Sally’s seat. That scared me a little because I knew Lenny was waiting to get the courage up to do the same thing. Since the purpose of my being on that little date was to get Henry’s attention, not Lenny’s, I thought it best not to allow him to misunderstand our relationship. Just as I was beginning to see movement from Lenny on my right, I rose to my feet. Turning towards him, I saw his arm jerking back into place at his side. He sat there with a sheepish look on his face.
“I’m going to get some popcorn, would you like some?”
Lenny shook his head.
“How ‘bout a soda?”
He shook his head again.
Then I turned to Sally.
“Would you like anything, Sally?”
“Actually, I think I’ll go with you,” she replied.
The look on Henry’s face, as she rose to her feet, gave me great satisfaction. I could enjoy anything that might disrupt his attempts at being happy with the other woman.
In the lobby, while Sally stood in line, J.B. approached me.
“What’s wrong, Abby Lynn? You don’t look like you are having too much fun.” He whispered.
I hadn’t realized I was letting it show so much, but J.B. knew me pretty well. He had become a bit of a confidant where my feelings for Henry were concerned.
“J.B., it’s not working,” I whined. “You know I only agreed to come with Lenny to try to make Henry jealous, but he isn’t jealous at all. He’s too interested in Sally.”
“Well, just what does he have to be jealous of anyway. He’s with Sally Thompson, and she seems happy enough, but you look like you are bored to death. I can’t see as that is anything for him to be jealous of, do you? If you want him to be jealous, he has to think you’re happier with Lenny than you usually are when you’re with him.”
I thought about that for a few seconds, and decided J.B. might know more about that kind of stuff than I would have given him credit. He was actually making sense, for a boy.
“Thanks, J.B.,” I said.
Heading back to my seat with a livelier step, I realized I had forgotten to get the popcorn. I shrugged my shoulders. “Oh, well,” I thought, “time to change strategies.”
As I sat down, Lenny quizzed me, “I thought you were going for popcorn.”
“The line was too long. Besides,” I reminded him, with my most charming smile, “a girl can change her mind if she chooses, can’t she Lenny?”
A few minutes later, when Lenny gathered the courage to put his arm over the back of my seat again, I laid my head on his shoulder. I could feel Henry’s eyes looking our way, as Lenny’s fingers touched my shoulder, and I smiled to myself.
The next day on the way to school, Henry seemed to have someth
ing on his mind. It took him a while to work up to asking, but I knew he wanted to know about Lenny.
“So, did you and Lenny have a good time together last night?”
As we approached the front of the school, I looked up towards the flagpole and closed my eyes. Offering my best imitation of Scarlet O’Hara, my face pointed up to the sky, a smile gently curving the corners of my mouth, I sighed deeply.
“Yes, it was a wonderful evening.”
I had practiced my lines before going to bed, and again as I got dressed for school. I had the scene all played out in my head, and I knew what his response would be to my reply. I was so impressed by my own acting skills I almost didn’t hear his response.
“Well, good. That means we can double date again sometime. It’ll make Sally really happy. She wasn’t sure if you two would hit it off. She’s always liked you, you know. She thinks it would be great if the four of us could hang around together.”
Somehow, in all of my rehearsal, I had never considered preparing for that response. He shot straight through my charade, and I deflated like a week-old balloon.
“Oh, uh, well, yes I guess that would be nice,” was all I could come up. My confidence disappeared.
“So, did he kiss you?”
He seemed so comfortable asking about it, I felt my blood instantly began to boil. He didn’t show even the slightest sign of jealousy. I was so aggravated I forgot about acting all together. I couldn’t hide it any longer, so it was time for a retreat.
“Well, if he did, what makes you think it would be any of your business,” I said angrily, as I stomped off towards the girl’s restroom. As I swung the door open, and went inside to regroup, I heard him continue to speak behind me.
“Hey, what did I say?”
Whispers in the Wind Page 5
