Chapter 8

It was evening, we ate a hearty meal, did the cleanup together, settled into homework. She tutored me in algebra, I taught her Shakespeare, she hadn’t a clue ... never heard of the man.

We finished and set a spell with the parents ... watched The Red Skelton Show and Dragnet. Mom and Pop yawned, stretched and headed off to bed.

About fifteen minutes later, Sallyanne flashed me her boob, elbowed me and popped her chin in the direction of the attic bedroom. I can take a hint. We shut down the TV and made our way to the stairs.

Mother and father were hard at work producing ... or practicing to produce ... the next set of children.

“Goodnight,” we said like twins.

The only answer we heard was mom calling out the name of god. His name was Charles.

The attic has its own bathroom ... sink, commode and shower. The shower was roomy.

We showered and headed ... but not to bed. We walked south. The south room was our sitting room.

We snuggled on the old livingroom couch. We had the old one when Mom bought a new one. The old couch was OLD. When it was moved mom took the couch-cover for her new couch. Without the couch-cover the old couch was smooth leather ... when the couch was new ... about 1850 ... it was horsehide ... and scratchy.

Understand ... the south sitting room is as far away from the floor register to the master bed room as one can get ... Mom and Pop wouldn’t hear us there.

“Sallyanne ... what the fuck are you doing?”

“I told you... ‘hiding out.’ They will never look here.”

“What’s the deal with the car?”

“In a few days, the Navy will call, your Dad will answer, the Navy won’t have to explain ... Daddy is expecting the call.” “Do you mind if I call him daddy?”

“As long as he doesn’t object.” “How did you do the car?”

“Invisibility...”

Sitting, my arms tight around her ... she was gone. I could feel her but I couldn’t see her.

I came a nanosecond from screaming. Freaked me, she did.

And that’s another thing ... Before I was 15 again, I was 36 ... and I knew stuff. I know I knew stuff ... I just didn’t know what to do with it. Most of what I knew wasn’t important ... I lived in my own little world ... they knew me there ... and liked me.

And I was bipolar ... although they called it moody then.

I didn’t know I was bipolar ... But I knew I had Schizophrenia ... at least I knew there were voices in my head ... and sometimes I talked to them. When I was in ‘little theater’ I called on them at need ... and I WAS someone I’m not. Sometimes it took a lot of effort to stuff whoever back inside when I no longer needed that personality trait.

That was an aside.

Thus, it came to pass that the Navy delivered a spanking perfect 1952 C-Type Jaguar in Le Mans trim RACECAR. Not a standard model ... not even street legal. No ... this C-Type was in no way like an XK120. The resemblance was there ... copy ... no.

Sallyanne drove it to school.

Our home is 1.5 blocks from the front entrance of RB Willson High. It is possible to wake up and make it to class in two minutes. I have done it. Wake up at 7:58 ... Classroom at 8:00 ... and no rush.

Sallyanne drove it to school ... five days a week. The car took longer to start than the walk. Nevertheless ... Sallyanne drove. Sallyanne became a legend.

The car was a two seater ... by the end of the week ... I walked. Sallyanne had a passenger. “The Ice Maiden” was Sals closest friend ... BFF?

But only to and from school ... the rest of the time she didn’t let me out of her sight. And I her. Constant companions ... until the trial.

After the monetary awards, Sallyanne slept with me, washed dishes with me, did homework with me, watched tv with me ... and no contact before or after school. In the privacy of home ... fine.