March 12 started out like any other day. I got to work, did the inspection of my bus, then hit the road. This was a charter from Burbank to Simi Valley, one of the movie companies was shooting at a remote site, and had limited room for cars. So I was going to pick up a load of extras and take them to the site. And I had even arranged to spend some of my downtime as an extra, so that was another $75 I would be making.

We got to the site, and I went ahead and hit wardrobe. This was a period piece, and the set was supposed to be part of the Invasion of Italy. I got my outfit, a German soldier and after killing some time in the food tent, we were called onto the set.

We were then told that if we were willing to move to another part of the set, our pay would be bumped to $150 as there were going to be explosions nearby. I decided I could deal with that, so took them up on it. And they were not kidding, during the first two shots there were explosions all around, really just paint cans full of propane that were detonated with blasting caps. But via the magic of movies, I knew they would be more impressive than they seemed here.

During the last 3 shots, we were supposed to be avoiding an inbound Mustang fighter that was strafing us, and it was really intense. The first two passes were as expected, and I was in the last line of trenches so was supposed to just duck into my foxhole instead of running away. Which was kind of cool, as it let me spend a lot of time pretending to shoot the plane and seeing it approach before ducking down.

But the last time, either they wanted it lower or it went too low. When the paint cans went off, something happened. Suddenly I saw the plane bank 90 degrees, and start to aim downwards. “Oh fuck!” I said, and both the guy in the foxhole with me and I ducked down into it, then blackness.

I woke up, and was wondering where in the hell I was. This was not the movie set, and certainly not a hospital. I was in a twin sized bed, but a regular one. And I looked around, realizing I knew the poster of Farrah Fawcett-Majors and Frank Zappa on the walls. What the fuck?

I sat up and looked around, barely noticing that I did so without any problem. I had not been able to do that without an arm to help me since I was 50. But nope, it was indeed my room, as it had looked when I was in High School. I looked around, and saw that there was no trophy for hurdles on the shelf, but there was a medal for the same event. So this is sometime around my Sophomore year. The medal was for ninth grade, but the trophy was for tenth.

And there would be no others. During the preseason workups in my Junior year, I would fracture my ankle when the runner next to me tripped and crashed into me just as I was starting my leap. My coach had already been shopping me to some colleges for a scholarship prior to that, but I never did recover to my form after it healed.

I looked down, amazed at what I was seeing. Yes, I did seem to be around 16. I felt up to my face, and sure enough my mustache was there. Something about my genetics made it almost impossible for me to grow a decent beard, but at 16 I had a good mustache. I put on my glasses, and turned on the radio. And I stood up in shock as I was catching the news, and it was day 266 of the Iran Hostage Crisis, and the Shah was dead.

Holy fuck, I was 16, and this was 1980. I sat heavily on the bed, wondering what in the hell had happened. I got dressed, and headed downstairs where my dad was reading the paper. I almost stumbled, and went over and gave him a big hug.

He jerked a bit and asked what was wrong, and thinking quickly I said that I had a nightmare where he had died, and was glad to see that is all it was. In reality, his death had been a nightmare. A four year long battle with Alzheimer’s, where at the end he knew almost nothing of what was going on around him.

I then told him what I had heard on the radio, and he nodded. “Well, maybe now that he is dead that nutcase will let our people go. It’s not like we can turn him over to them anymore like they are demanding.” I just shook my head, and said I doubted that would happen.

After all, I already knew the truth. The hostage crisis would not end until 323 days, still two months away. When an Iraqi bombing attack on Tehran hit a building outside of an Iranian Air Force Base, and all but three of the hostages held inside were killed. That was the final cock-up for President Carter, and he became the second President to resign. And President Mondale would go on to lose the election in a 50 state landslide which saw President Reagan sworn in as President number 41.

Dad asked me if I was going to go running, and I said that sounded like a good idea. I went upstairs and changed, and he was kissing my mom goodbye and had his golf clubs in his hand. “Hop on in the car, I’ll give you a ride to the college.” I thanked him, and 15 minutes later after warming up I started running.

OK, so apparently I was still in good shape. I finished my first mile and was barely even winded, so started a second. And apparently, I was getting a new chance to live my life again. But what did I want to do with it? Did I really want to live this life as I had the previous one?

Where I was a divorced 56 year old bus driver, living in a crappy apartment in Sun Valley? Who had once had a dream of going to West Point or Annapolis, and participating in the Olympics? Well, one thing for sure, I was not going to take hurdles again! I could not even join the Army after my injury, I tried when I was 19, but washed out of the physical.

But what to do instead? I was well into my third mile, and when that finished, I was still pondering my choices when I saw Candy Jacobs wave at me as she ran by. Hey, there was an idea. Cross Country! I picked up the pace again, and remembered that the distance for Cross Country was just 5 kilometers. That was a distance I often ran, so I knew I could do it. I simply never participated because for the most part, long runs like that bored me.

But thinking, I realized I would rather face the boredom of a thirty to forty-five minute run, than a lifetime damaging ankle break. And as I stepped up my pace, I realized I was closing in on Candy again. And realizing that she had a fine looking ass as I got closer.

I gave her a wave as I passed her, and just kept going. I was feeling a bit worse for wear when I finished, and was on my second cool-down walking lap when she stopped running and started walking next to me.

“Not bad at all, Zack. How long was that? I thought you normally stuck to the shorter distances, was that four miles?”

“Five actually, Candy. How about you?”

“Oh, just four. I am in a maintenance phase, next week I take it back to five miles. What, are you thinking of changing programs? 5,000 or 10,000 meter events?”

“Actually, I have been thinking about Cross Country. The coach was telling me I have the stamina for the longer events, but mostly they bore me. But I think he is right, better to be above average in a multi-function event like long distance, than a one trick pony at hurdles.”

“Yeah, I always wondered why you picked that. Oh, you are good at it, but you don’t quite have the build for a sprinter. You are lean, like a marathon runner. Tell you what, if you want you can join me. I am here on Sunday, Wednesday, and Friday. Friday I do a warm-up lap, then run the hills, there is a five kilometer track that we girls do. The guys do ten kilometers, but come with me a time or two, it will give you an idea if you want to try making a switch or not.”

“Five and ten kilometers? I had no idea you ran so far!” I was starting to think about it again, but her laugh and cute grin was lovely.

“Oh, we do not run that far in competition, just three kilometers for the girls, five for the boys. But this is training, so running farther is better. That is why I come up here and run on the college track during the summer.”

I told her I would do that, and after another wave we both headed on home. And I jogged the mile home, thinking about Candy and watching her amazing ass. Yeah, Candy was cute, and had a body to die for. Her face was nothing special, and all the running and the like helped ensure that her boobs were on the more compact side. But her legs and ass were works of art.

Of course, I also knew something that she might not even realize yet. During our Senior Year, Candy was “outed”. She got caught making out with a girl from another school, and in 1983 made the then bold declaration that she was a lesbian. I still saw her on occasion, the last at an informal 35 year reunion some of us threw at a bar. And she showed up with her wife.

But at 16 and with my own 16 year old body, I could not deny that she was hot. And I know she fooled around a bit before her realization, as one of the guys at the reunion was Bill Harris. They had been a thing when we were Juniors, and after he left Candy admitted to her wife that he was the one that copped her cherry.

Of course, at that time Bill weighed over 275 pounds, and Candy’s wife giggled and asked if that is what put her off of men. “Oh, I have never been against guys, I just like girls better. But yeah, he was about what you would expect of a 16 year old, fast on the start and fast on the end.”

Even I laughed along with them, and said in defense we could not help it. “It is just such an amazing thing, you have to understand Candy. I like to think that most of us do learn control over time, but when we are young it is just so hard sometimes.”

“All the time!” she said, and we all gave each other a toast and laughed.

So I at least knew I had a chance with Candy, even if not for a long-term relationship. I slowed to a walk for the last two blocks home, and considered that. I was in no way thinking I could “fix” or “convert” her, if she was a lesbian she simply was. But maybe, just maybe I could leave her with a better impression of guys when she came to that realization than Bill Harris had.

The rest of the summer went fairly well, and one advantage of having been a bus driver is that I was more familiar in dealing with boredom. By the time school started, Candy and I were practicing three times a week, and she was a great running partner. I ran farther and faster than she did, but so long as we were on the track we actually put in about the same amount of time running. And once we found the track for the men, we would do our five and ten kilometer trail runs, and she would finish only a few minutes before I did.

And one thing that I remembered from before, the week before school started I came home from running, to find a white 1975 Datsun in the driveway. I hugged both my parents, and was soon going over it carefully. I remember dad had bought it from a car lot, and the damned thing died two months later. And just as I remembered, when I pulled out the dipstick for the transmission fluid, it was almost brown and smelled like shit.

I called dad over, and after looking that over he went and got the paperwork. 30 day warranty and a sheet that claimed all maintenance had already been done on it. So with me driving the Datsun and my dad his car we drove back to the dealer. Dad pointed out the problem with the transmission fluid, and the guy promised to fix that right away. “Honest, Mr. Johnson. My mechanic said he had changed it, I will have him do it right away. Jose, get over here!”

Now one advantage is that instead of just 1 year of Junior High Spanish, I now had a lifetime of hearing it. And Jose said that changing the fluid was not a good idea, and he had said that last time. But he would do it, and dad and I said we would be back the next day.

And when we got back, the dealer looked frustrated. “We changed the fluid, and now the car will not move. My mechanic says the transmission is broken.” And that is exactly what happened last time, but after almost 3 months. Dad insisted they fix it, and finally they compromised. Dad paid another $200, and instead I got a red Toyota Corona that was a year newer.

And I was happy as hell with it. The Datsun last time had ended up sitting in the driveway for over a year, until dad finally junked it. And instead, I got a moped. It was great for driving around Canoga Park, but meant I had to try and borrow his or mom’s car if I wanted to go on a date.

On Sunday, I drove to the College, and when Candy came up, I suggested we go for a run in Limekiln Canyon. She jumped up and down and gave me a hug, and after admiring my car we headed across the Valley.

Since there was no paths we knew here for Cross Country, we just ran together and talked for about 4 miles. And we agreed that since our weekday runs would be replaced by training with the team, we would reserve Saturday for running together somewhere like this.

I drove her home, and when we passed a billboard with Olivia Newton-John on it she said she had been wanting to see her newest movie. Well, Xanadu was not my favorite movie, but it was not bad, and had a great soundtrack. And Olivia was hot as hell. So I offered to take her that night. And to my surprise, Candy accepted.

I dropped her off at home, and she said to come pick her up at 7. She would look in the paper to see what time the show started and where, and we could play things by ear after that. Of course, I also looked in the paper when I got home, and knew where I wanted to go. The Pickwick Drive-In was showing it, along with Fame.

I took a shower, and mostly relaxed for the afternoon. When my parents got home from work I told them I had a date that night, and my mom raised her eyebrow and said “Really?”

Dad chuckled, and said I was that age. “Mom, dad, I have been that age for a while now. What I lacked was wheels. And now that I have them, it makes things like dates a lot easier.” They both nodded, and asked who it was, and where. I told them I was planning on McDonald’s and the drive-in, and mom shook her head.

““Zack, this is your first real date I am pretty sure, and the same with her. Dear, give him enough to at least go someplace like Sizzler’s. After all, it is best to make a good first impression.” Dad grinned and handed me $40.

“This is also an advance on your allowance next week. And don’t worry, so long as you are not driving crazy just tell me when you need gas money and I can throw you five bucks. One good thing about that car, it gets good mileage.”

Well, that went a lot better than I thought! Of course, the first time around I rarely told them I had even been on a date. And that evening I took another shower, and put on a pair of slacks and a short sleeved button down shirt. I stooped on the way to get Candy and loaded up on snacks and a large bottle of soda with 2 cups.

When I got to her house, I was walking up to the door when Candy came out. She gave me a big smile, and then looked a little surprised when I asked if I should see her parents first. “Wait, you actually want to meet my parents?”

“Well, I have no idea when your curfew is. I was thinking we can go to the Pickwick, and that is a double feature so we will get home around midnight if we stay for both of them. So first, is that alright with you?” Candy grinned and nodded, and said she did indeed need to ask as she had told to be home by 10:30.

That is when I learned Candy was being raised by her mom, and she smiled when I told her my plan, and asked for her permission to have Candy out later than expected. “I should be inclined to say no. But seeing as you have the manners to ask me first, you have my permission young man. But I want your home phone number, and if Candy is not home by 12:15, expect me to be calling your folks.”

I told her that was not a problem, and quickly gave it to her. And even Candy seemed impressed when I held the door for her when she got into the car. “Wow, Zack. I’m surprised she said yes! Mom almost never lets me out past 10:30. So, where to now?”

“Well, if you look in the back seat I already have a bag of sodas, chips, and other things to snack on. But dinner first, we still have over an hour to kill until dusk.” And I could tell I won more points when we pulled up in front of Sizzler, and we both had steaks and salads. And I knew I had made the right decision, as we held hands on the drive to the movie.

Xanadu was just as I remembered, but also as I remembered there were great songs and Olivia looked hot as hell. During the break we walked hand in hand to use the bathrooms, and back in the car Candy surprised me by leaning in towards me. I leaned towards her, and we shared a long soft kiss.

And this was my first kiss, and I suspect hers also. We pulled back, and after looking into each other’s eyes we leaned in again. This time the kiss was longer, and her arms went around my neck as my hands rested on her waist. After a minute we pulled back again, and after another long look we moved in yet again.