Out of the Wilderness

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Out of the Wilderness Page 5

by Steve Stroble

in her swimming suit. She can be my surfer girl!" The possibility kept Sam from canceling the adventure. He had cancelled other adventures with Dave. Once, Dave had invited Sam to see Judy Garland in concert.

  "My dad was going to take Mom and me but Mom is really sick. Can you go?"

  "I don't know. Isn't she the girl in The Wizard of Oz?"

  "She's grown up now. My dad said she's great. He only says that about a few singers."

  "I don't know. I watch her in the movie every year. I like it when she melts the witch."

  "So you don't want to go?"

  "Uhhh, I guess not."

  'Okay," Dave had sighed. The next day, he had raved about the concert. "You should have seen it. It was a bunch of old people like my parents. But when she came out on stage they all stood up and started clapping and shouting."

  "Before she even sang?"

  "Yeah. I'm going to be in music and make the crowd do the same thing for me!" Dave had confided.

  The June day was perfect for the beach. When the bus got within sight of the ocean, Dave told Sam to hop off.

  "But we're still blocks away from the ocean."

  "That's why we brought the boards. Look at the hills. We can skate right down to the sand."

  Sam shuffled nervously. He knew Dave was the more athletic of the two. In Little League, Sam had hit .068; Dave .301. Sam made nine errors; Dave two. Sam scored no runs; Dave 12. " I don't know," Sam protested once more.

  "I've done it before. When you get to a street, turn right and put on the brakes with your foot. "Watch!" Dave jumped on his board and soon was flying down the steep hill. Just before the first intersection he shifted all his weight to the right and made the 90-degree turn with only a slight arc. His dragging right foot soon skidded him to a stop. Sam meekly walked down the hill to meet him.

  "Your turn."

  "I'm not as good as you are."

  "Look, I'll go with you on the first hill and help you get used to it."

  Not wanting to spoil the fun, Sam relented. "Okay. But stay close."

  "You take the inside part of the sidewalk. If you have trouble making the turn, I'll grab you and stop you."

  "Okay."

  The first 90 feet were easy, the second 90 thrilling and the last 90 terrifying to Sam. "We're going too fast!"

  "It's all right, Amigo!"

  Fear soon paralyzed Sam so that he didn't even try to turn at the corner. By the time Dave realized this, he had less than a second to decide their fate. He could either continue on into the street with Sam and risk both of them being hit by the cross traffic; slow down, cut behind Sam and make the turn; or push Sam off his board. Using the same reflexes that told him whether to take a pitch or swing on the diamond, Dave chose the last option.

  The two were at the curb when Dave pushed his friend off the board. Sam tumbled onto the sidewalk and escaped with scrapes and bruises. His friend flew off the curb still on the board. Seeing a car bearing down on him, Dave dove off the board, head first through the air, which brought him onto the car's hood with a thud. The car's momentum caused Dave to slide into the windshield and bounce off of it. When the car's driver instinctively hit the brakes, Dave hit the windshield again and fell to the street as the car skidded to a stop.

  Dave might have escaped with scrapes, cuts and bruises except that the car's rear wheel rolled over his foot as he lay on the street, too dazed to use his reflexes any more. Sam escaped with a severe lecture from Dad and Mom; Dave with a limp in his left foot for life.

  6

  Such experiences can ruin the best of relationships, as can distances.

  "It wasn't your fault," Dave had assured him. "It was my idea, not yours."

  Even so, Sam believed that if he had only been quicker, his friend wouldn't have been so banged up. Sam's sense of guilt led him to take a gift to his bedridden buddy.

  "We're moving next week."

  "You got my address so you can write and tell me about it? I've never been out of California."

  "Yeah. Listen, I brought you a present that might give you something to do while your foot gets better."

  "What is it?" Dave marveled at the small, flat present. "Some kind of book?'

  "Nope. Open it."

  "What's this?" He flipped open the thin blue book and saw three pages filled with holes and dates underneath each hole.

  "A book for collecting coins. My mom got me started doing it. You find the dimes and stick them in the holes with the dates that match."

  "Wow. That's cool. Thanks."

  "Just ask your parents for their change. You can give them a dollar for 10 of their dimes."

  "Okay."

  "Look, I'm sorry I made you get hurt. Are you going to be able to play baseball again?"

  "I don't think so. The doctor said I won't be able to run very fast. Maybe I can be a pitcher."

  "Man. I was counting on you playing for the Dodgers."

  "No way. I'm going to be in music. Gil figures that the British groups will be big for about four or five years. He says if I get good enough I can be in his band then."

  "Good enough?"

  "Playing guitar. When my uncle heard that I'd be in bed for a while he gave me a guitar. I already learned my first song. Hand me the guitar."

  Sam's jaw dropped as Dave picked out the first bass notes to In My Room and began to sing "There's a place?" as he quickly switched to strumming the chords.

  As the song faded, Dave looked his friend in the eyes. "Well, what did you think?"

  "How'd you do that?"

  "I practiced."

  "But you played bass, played guitar and sang, too."

  Dave laughed. "The more you can do, the more valuable you are. That's what Gil told me. Anyway, he taught me the bass parts. My uncle showed me a bunch of chords and give me a book that shows even more chords."

  "I wish I didn't have to move."

  "Maybe it's God's will. That's what Mom says when something happens that I don't like."

  "I don't know. You've been my best friend ever."

  7

  Sam tried to maintain the friendship through letters, but that only lasted for a few months. Unbeknownst to him, he gave Dave's coin collecting a boost when he sent him an article about the treasure hunters who scoured the Florida beaches after hurricanes and tropical storms. "Sometimes they find coins from pirate ships!" Sam had written.

  Intrigued, Dave coaxed his dad to get him a metal detector. His dad finally gave in when Dave offered to pay half and settled for a used one. "Always buy stuff like that used. Then you save money!" his father smiled as they left a shop specializing in the devices. "Don't forget, I get half of your treasure!"

  Unable to compete in sports anymore and with his music career on hold until Gil came back from the Army, Dave concentrated on metal detecting at the beaches, especially after the big waves churned up the sand from a big Pacific storm or after a crowded weekend or holiday of beachgoers. For every piece of treasure, he found four pieces of trash. Nevertheless, the treasure amazed him: watches, rings, coins, earrings, even St. Christopher medals torn from surfer's necks by the waves they rode and fell into.

  Most of the treasure went to a local pawnshop. Dave then took the bills he had received to a nearby bank and bought rolls of pennies, nickels, dimes, quarters, half-dollars and dollars. When one coin collector's book filled, he would buy another and fill it, too. Impressed, his dad loved to tease his son.

  "I didn't know you would use that metal detector to rob the banks!"

  "Ahhh, Dad."

  "Maybe I'll be able to retire early when you give me half of your treasure."

  "I hope so. The way you always complain about the people you work with, I'm afraid you're going to have a heart attack."

  "Heart attack? I'm as strong as El Toro!"

  "Well, at least ulcers."

  "Don't worry, son. Your mama and I almost have this house paid for. I'll get a pension and later on Social Security. We'll do fine."

  "I'm gla
d."

  "Me too. Glad that your grandfather came here when he did and stayed. If we were still in Mexico, we might still be poor farmers. That's what I can't understand about the Americans who have been here for generations. They are always complaining. They should visit the rest of the world. Maybe that would shut them up."

  "When do you think Gil will be back home?"

  His dad's face darkened. "Well, at least two years, if he doesn't reenlist.

  "That's great. By then it will have been five years since the Beatles came here. He'll be ready to start a band with me."

  "Maybe, son. Wait and see."

  "Why?"

  "The army can change people, especially if they go to war."

  "Vietnam?"

  "Yes, Vietnam. Well I think maybe I better go look at the yard. Might need some water."

  Dave noticed how his dad seemed to move slower these days. The spring in his step had gone almost as soon as Gil had enlisted six months ago. Gil claimed he had to enlist because Bob, who was a year older, was about to be drafted.

  "If we go in at the same time, maybe we can stay together the whole time," Gil had explained.

  "You're crazy!" Bob had snapped back. "If you had any sense you would get your butt over the border to Mexico before they draft you next year!"

  "I don't want to break the law. You know that."

  "Well I don't want to be babysitting you, either. Especially if we go to Vietnam. Anything happens to you, your daddy will skin me alive."

  "You worry too much. Remember my dream? We were just running, not getting killed."

  "Well, you can keep your dreams."

  The recruiter had warned Gil that he couldn't guarantee that the two would stay together unless they both enlisted. "He won't do it. He says they'll have to make him go in," Gil had explained.

  "Sorry," the recruiter

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