Chapter 2: Awakenings

January 1977

The new year didn’t see much change. I was working on the paper, bowling, playing chess, and hanging out with Larry and Birgit. Larry had been working with me on my chess game and it had improved. My bowling was slowly improving as well and I had my unofficial average up to 160. A new Wendy’s had opened in Milford and that, along with Frisch’s Big Boy became our hangouts. Sadly, we all needed rides. Larry was a year older, because he had missed a year of school due to mono, but was still a year away from a license. Fortunately, between his mom, Birgit’s host mom, and my mom we could usually swing a ride.

A new bowling league kicked off, which would run from January through April. Larry and I both signed up, but this time we ended up on different teams because the teams were assigned randomly. I didn’t know any of the other kids on my team, but they seemed nice enough. It was always a good time, and Birgit came to watch our games on Saturday. I tried to get her to bowl, but she wasn’t interested.

What did interest her was ice skating. She convinced Larry and me to go ice skating with her. I had only tried it once, on a frozen pond by my old house when I was in 4th grade. I didn’t have a lot of luck. We got to the rink and rented skates. She had her own. Go figure. A Swede into Winter sports. I asked, and yes, she skied as well. That was something I had never done, but it sounded cool.

Larry and I fell. A lot. But eventually, she guided us into being able to skate and turn and, more importantly, stop. I wasn’t very graceful and still fell some, but I was getting the hang of it. Larry, on the other hand, didn’t appear to be having fun. He confided in me that he much preferred Tennis and Bowling to skating, but he wasn’t going to say anything to Birgit because he didn’t want her to feel bad.

We finally had enough (or rather, my legs and butt hurt enough) to get some hot chocolate and rest. We sat and chatted, Birgit looking super cute in her white Winter coat, sitting right next to Larry, their shoulders touching. He didn’t react much. I hadn’t raised the issue with him because he wasn’t talking, but it was clear that Birgit was still interested in him. I sighed internally and kept up a happy appearance. I was just happy to hang out with her. I knew she was leaving in 5 months and that Larry would still be there, and I sure didn’t want to hurt our friendship or have him hurt when she left, so I just let it go.

We did make a couple of Stingers games, but my dad was concerned they were not going to make it. There weren’t enough fans in the stands.

April 22, 1977, Age Fourteen

My birthday was pretty good. My parents gave me my usual pile of gifts, including a 14” Black and White Television for my room. They may have treated me like dirt, but they did buy me cool stuff. Kevin, Larry, Birgit, and a couple of other kids from my D&D group were coming to my house for cake and ice cream after dinner. As my friends finished ‘singing’ Happy Birthday (none of us could sing very well), I blew out the candles, making a wish that Birgit would finally want to go out with me instead of just being friends. Over the past few months, we had hung out a lot and got to know each other really well. I knew she was going back to Sweden in two months, so even if I got my wish, it wouldn’t be for very long.

Larry gave me a new chess set - a nice one with weighted pieces and felt bottoms and a good board. Kevin gave me 2 complete sets of D&D dice. The other members of the D&D group chipped in on a Player’s Handbook for me and Birgit gave me a shirt with a mock turtleneck and, to my surprise, a pair of jeans. I hadn’t discussed this with her, but she knew my parents would never buy them for me and would never let me buy them. I could already see my mom’s disapproving face as I held them up and thanked her profusely.

Kevin and my two D&D friends left around 8:30. They lived on the same street so they could walk home. Larry’s mom was giving Birgit a ride because it was on the way. The three of us stood on the front steps of the house waiting for his mom. As she pulled into the driveway, Birgit said ‘Happy birthday!’ and then leaned over and kissed my cheek. I must have turned 12 shades of red. Yeah, Susan and I had done a lot of kissing before (that’s all we did), but this kiss on the cheek was electric. Soft lips, a brief touch of my shoulder, and then she was off to the car calling out “See you in school tomorrow.” Larry laughed at me and said “Man, you are blushing” as he punched me lightly in the arm and jumped into the car. I waved to his mom and they were off.

I was in heaven. Even as mom was saying “You are not to wear those jeans to school” I was floating. Even mom couldn’t bring me down. Was I going to get my wish? And if I did, how was I going to feel in June when she went home? A million thoughts went through my head swirling around. I had a tough time concentrating on my homework but I got it done. Then I tried on the shirt and jeans. The shirt made me look a couple of years older - like I was seventeen or eighteen, instead of fourteen. And the jeans felt good. Falling asleep was tough. Images of Birgit kept running through my head. I grabbed a clean sock out of the drawer and masturbated to a new fantasy - Birgit.

I almost floated into homeroom on Wednesday morning. “Hi,” I said to Birgit. “Hi,” she said back, and I gave her a big smile. When the bell rang for first period (we weren’t in the same class this quarter, but the rooms were next to each other), I grabbed her hand to hold it while we walked down the hall. I’d never done this before and she kind of drew back. Uh-oh. Did I misread? I let go of her hand and we just walked to class.

At lunch, I discovered that I had indeed misread her. She knew it. I knew it. But it was never directly said. I sulked for most of the day. Larry was in my 7th-period class, the last of the day. “Man, you got what you wanted forever!”

“Nope, I don’t think so.”

“But she kissed you.”

“Yeah, as a friend. Nothing more. I’m sure of it.”

“Did she tell you that?”

“Nope, but she didn’t want to hold my hand and when we ate lunch it was clear I misunderstood. She’s just a friend.”

“Oh, man, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.”

I was bummed for a week but managed to keep up appearances with Birgit while I stewed and cursed myself for reading too much into a peck on the cheek.

May 1977

I was blown away from the opening scroll... A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away. Larry and I were sitting in the Mariemont Theater watching a new movie by some guy named George Lucas - Star Wars. I was totally engrossed in the movie. Larry and I usually whispered a bit about movies when we saw them, but this one just reached out and grabbed us and we sat in almost stunned silence. The special effects were amazing, the story was amazing. We would go on to see it 4 more times. I’d never seen a movie more than once before that. I walked out of the theater in awe.

The next day, Sunday, I was at St. Andrew’s church for Mass, as usual. I usually served as an altar boy for a month, then had a month off. April had been my month. It was May, so I was sitting in the pews with my mom, Jeff, and Stephanie. As usual, Jeff had the aisle seat, then Stephanie, then mom, then me. To my left was Mrs. McGrath. Her husband had been killed in Saigon about four years previous. My uncle (mom’s brother) was in Vietnam at the same time, but he came back. I was pretty much out of touch with the adult world at church, but I knew the story because I been an altar boy at his funeral. I didn’t see her at church much, only once every couple of months. Maybe she went to a different Mass most of the time.

I had been in the habit of wearing the shirt Birgit gave me to church because it looked so nice and made me look older. Partway through the service, Mrs. McGrath lost her place in the missal and I showed her the page. Later in the service, she couldn’t find the right page for the hymn and I showed her again. She grabbed my arm and said, “Thanks, I really need you.” I just smiled and went back to the hymn. Church ended and I was off to get some juice and a doughnut from the church basement.

When Mom came down, she said that Mrs. McGrath had asked if I could do some yard work for her, and she had told her ‘yes’.

“When?” I asked.

“Next Saturday.”

“But, Mom, Birgit’s party is Saturday.”

“This is more important. Mrs. McGrath needs the help and you’re going to help her.”

“You don’t care about what I want; You never do,” I muttered as I stormed off.

Fortunately, I hadn’t said it loud enough for Fr. Buschmiller to hear, or I would have been in even more trouble.

On Monday, I was in a really bad mood. Birgit figured that out right away.

“What’s wrong? You look upset.”

“Mom’s making me do yardwork for this lady from church on Saturday.”

“Maybe you can talk to that lady and see if you can start very early in the morning. Maybe you can get done in time to come to my party. It doesn’t start until 2:00pm” she said hopefully.

“I should have thought of that! Great idea. I’ll just work it out with Mrs. McGrath and then tell mom that’s what she wants. I’m sure she’ll help, she seems nice.”

So the plan was hatched. Only one problem. I had no idea how to get in touch with her. When I called Larry that night, I explained my dilemma. He started laughing and said “Man, you are dumb. Go get the church directory and look her up. I bet her phone number is in there.”

“I never even thought of that. Larry, I owe you.”

“What are friends for?”

I felt a lot better after that call. But then again, Larry could always see the bright side of things!

I went downstairs and found the church directory without Mom seeing me take it. So far, so good. Now I just had to make sure I could make the call without her knowing and then get Mrs. McGrath to agree to my plan. Mom was watching TV with Dad, so the coast was clear there. My brother was out in the yard and Stephanie was in her room. I went to the upstairs extension in my parents’ sitting room (where I made my calls for a bit of privacy) and quickly dialed her number. She answered on the second ring.

“Hi, Mrs. McGrath; this is Steve from church.”

“Oh, hi! I wasn’t expecting you to call. I was going to call your mom with the details on Friday.”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I’m supposed to be at my friend’s party on Saturday afternoon. She’s an exchange student and this is her going-away party. Mom won’t let me go because of the yard work.”

“Oh, my, I didn’t know she didn’t tell me!”

“She wouldn’t.”

“Don’t worry about it, it can wait a week.”

“Mom will never let that happen, even if you ask her. She’ll know something is up, and even if you change the day, she might not let me go to the party anyway.”

“She would do that?”

“It’s happened before. How much work is there to do?”

“About four or five hours, probably.”

“Could I start at 7:00am? I know I can’t run the lawnmower or trimmers that early, but I could do everything else and finish up with the loud stuff after 10:00am.”

“I think that will work. There are weeds to pull, flowers to plant, some chicken wire for the garden to put up to keep out the rabbits, a fence that needs fixing, and then the lawn. No trimming.”

“Do you have a bagging mower? Or do I have to rake?”

“You have to rake.”

“Could I bring our mower if my dad lets me? It has a bag.”

“Sure! I’ll feed you lunch, your mom can pick you up at 1:00pm and you can still make your friend’s party.”

“You’re cool Mrs. McGrath! Please don’t tell my mom this was my idea.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of everything. See you Saturday morning!”

“Bye, Mrs. McGrath.”

Score! I quickly hung up and called Birgit and Larry and let them know what had happened. They were as happy as I was! Now, all that had to happen was Mrs. McGrath to call Mom on Friday, ask that I be there at 7:00am, and not let on that I had called. Fortunately, the bowling league had ended just the previous week, otherwise, the plan could never have worked.

On Friday afternoon, when I got home from school, I saw a note on the fridge: “Be at Mrs. McGrath’s at 7:00am.” I almost let out a “Yes!” but remembered I was supposed to be upset about having to go. I went to find dad.

“Can I use our bagging mower tomorrow at Mrs. McGrath’s?”

“Doesn’t she have a mower?”

Uh oh. How would I know if I never talked to her and I hadn’t heard anything from mom? I had to think fast.

“Uhm, I’m just concerned that she might have one I don’t know how to use, or it might not be in good shape.”

“Good thinking, Son. With her husband dead, who knows? OK. You can take it. Just get it in the station wagon tonight.”

Whew! That was close. And I even got one of those very rare compliments from dad.

Dad was a former Navy Chief, having fought in World War II. He got married late in life (he was forty-five, my mom was twenty-six when they married). I found out later that he never wanted kids but let my mom talk him into it. If there is a better recipe for disaster, I don’t know what it is. My dad was 60 and I was fourteen - it was like having a mean grandfather for a parent. Funny thing though, my mom’s parents were nice and a lot of fun. I wished their parenting skills had worn off on her.

Saturday arrived, bright and clear. I was up at 6:00am, put on my jeans (yes!) a t-shirt, socks, and sneakers, and went down to grab some cereal for breakfast. I grabbed Frosted Flakes, the sugar bowl, the milk, and the orange juice. Yes. The sugar bowl. I put sugar on Frosted Flakes. I couldn’t stand the taste of milk so I used sugar to cover it. I finished breakfast and waited on mom. About 6:45am she came down with curlers in her hair and a housecoat to drop me off at Mrs. McGrath’s house. I knew for sure she wouldn’t be getting out of the car!

I turned on the radio in the car and twisted the dial to 101.9 to listen to the new DJ, Mark Sebastian on Q102. Mom didn’t say much until we got to Mrs. McGrath’s house.

“You do what she tells you without complaining or protesting. I don’t want any reports that you misbehaved or refused to do anything. She said I should pick you up around one. I’ll be here at 1:15pm which gives you enough time to get home, shower, change and then be ready for me to take you to Birgit’s. Mrs. Higgins will bring you home.”

“OK, Mom. I know. I’ll do what she says when she says.”

I hopped out of the car without another word. I knew I’d hear about that too - I didn’t say goodbye and didn’t kiss her. Ugh. I opened the back of the station wagon and pulled out the mower.

Mrs. McGrath lived on a quiet street just outside Milford. It was a three-bedroom ranch on a small lot with lots of trees between her and her neighbors. A white picket fence, a short driveway, a one-car garage, and a mailbox. The only thing missing was a couple of kids, but I knew that wasn’t in the cards because she was a widow.

The lawn was in need of mowing, there were weeds in the flower bed, the fence needed paint, and I saw two rabbits frolicking in the back yard. All the work she had suggested was staring me in the face. I thought I would be hard-pressed to get it done before lunch. I’d just have to work hard. But then again, I usually did.

I walked up to the door and rang the bell.

Mrs. McGrath said, “Hi, Steve!” and waved to my mom as she backed out of the driveway. “Go around to the garage and we can get started.”

She went back into the house and the garage door opened. I saw her car, some cans of paint, garden tools, a bike, some weights that looked like they hadn’t been used in years, and her mower.

I grabbed the hoe, a small shovel, and a bucket and went to work on the flower bed. I pulled the big weeds and turned the soil. Mrs. McGrath brought some flats with flowers in them and I dug holes to plant them next to the walk and along the front of the house. It wasn’t hard work and the Sun wasn’t too strong because I was on the west side of the house.

I finished up the flowers by about 7:45am and went to get the chicken wire and stakes from the garage. I took it around back and looked at the garden plot. I could see where the posts had been last year - I guess she had taken everything down for the Winter. Using a rubber mallet, I pounded the posts in, attached the chicken wire by twisting lengths of thin wire around the posts, and making sure that the dirt was pushed up against the chicken wire. I didn’t think it would keep out a determined rabbit, but it would help. When I finished, I went and got the hoe and turned over the soil so she could plant when she was ready.

The house had the usual sliding glass door in the back and I saw Mrs. McGrath standing there watching me work. Figures. Adults just don’t trust kids. I was starting to develop my usual surly mood towards adults but decided I wasn’t going to take it out on her. She didn’t really know me beyond being an altar boy. If she wanted to watch, fine. I’d do the best job I could. Didn’t want her saying anything to my mom that might make me miss the party!

I finished the garden and Mrs. McGrath brought out some lemonade. This side of the house was much warmer because it was in direct sun. I was sweating a little bit, but not too much.

“You’re ahead of schedule,” she said. “I didn’t expect you to finish those so quickly. It’s too early to hammer boards for the fence or run the mower. Why don’t you come inside for a bit and you can start at 10:00am.”

I looked at the clock at it was only 9:15am. I followed her inside, wiping my shoes on the mat.

Her house was immaculate. On the wall were pictures of a well-built, good-looking, brown-haired guy in an Army uniform. On the bookshelf, a case with a triangle-folded flag and another case with two medals. Her husband’s, I was sure.

She saw me looking at the pictures and said “That was Jim. We got married in 1972 when he graduated from boot camp. He joined the Army right after High School and got a week’s leave to get married and for our honeymoon. Then he shipped out to Vietnam. That was the last time I saw him. I didn’t expect to be a widow at 19.”

I saw a tear in her eye but otherwise, she seemed pretty composed.

“I’m sorry that happened. My uncle served in Vietnam and my dad in World War II, but they both came home.”

She offered me a seat on the couch and another glass of lemonade. She sat down next to me and I noticed she smelled really good. It was the same perfume she had on in church, I’m sure, because that scent was familiar. She was wearing faded jeans and a t-shirt. Her shoulder-length brown hair framed her face and she smiled as she saw me look her over. I wasn’t very subtle at fourteen. She had a slim figure, small breasts, and a great smile. I pushed those thoughts out of my mind - she was way too old for me.

“When do you graduate?” she asked.

“Huh?”

“High School - when do you graduate?”

“1981,” I replied reflexively.

Her face darkened and she said, “Wait, you aren’t seventeen?”

“No. I turned fourteen last month.”

She sat there for a moment and said, “At church, I could swear you looked older but now I see it. I’m such a fool.”

I had no idea what she was talking about. The clueless thirteen-year-old had become a clueless fourteen-year-old.

“What do you mean? A fool? Did I do something wrong? Are you upset with me?”

“No, it’s not you. I just thought ... never mind,” and she buried her head in her hands.

She was crying. What the heck?

“Mrs. McGrath - what’s wrong? Can I help?”

She looked up and looked hard into my eyes and said, “Maybe you can.”

“Well, mom said I was supposed to help you with whatever you needed and I want to do that. Anything you need.”

Clueless. I had no idea what I was saying. Or rather, no idea of the double entendre that was in my words. I just sat there while she stared at me. At fourteen, I was fit, I swam a lot and had decent muscle tone. I thought I was OK looking, and Susan had always told me I had great eyes. But I was still a kid. I was 5’8”, which was about two inches taller than she was. She stood up, walked over to the stereo, and put on a Queen record.

When she came back to sit down, she sat right next to me and took my hand.

“Steve, I invited you here with ulterior motives. I thought you were older, and you were good looking. And I was lonely. Now I feel like a fool. I’m sorry. If you want to call your mom and leave early, that’s fine.”