Chapter 3: I Didn't Know What to Do, So I Whispered 'I Love You'

FEBRUARY 8^th, 1978

I had called Kara on Sunday and we had had a pleasant talk for about an hour.

Monday, I saw her briefly in school. We didn't talk much, but she gave me a huge smile when I walked into English.

Then, on Monday night, it hit. Something else I'd have to relive that I'd forgotten about: The Blizzard of '78.

I got home from school to the beginning of flurries. I started my paper route in a light snow. When I finished my paper route--which was about an hour later--I was trudging through blinding snow. Just like the first time!

The Blizzard of '78 was a big huge thing in the Boston area. It was something that was still talked about 30 years later. It wasn't just a snowstorm--though it was that, over two feet fell--it was also accompanied by gale force winds, massive high tides with floods, beach erosion, some coastal houses lost, fatalities, the whole bit. It was, basically, a hurricane with snow instead of rain (though not technically). There were 8 and 10 foot snowdrifts due to the wind (and the fact that there was already some snow on the ground from the previous week). It shut Eastern Massachusetts down--I mean, completely shut it down--for a week.

Of course, when you're 13 years old, it was great.

Kara called me Monday night, in the middle of it. "Do you believe this?" she asked excitedly.

"Oh, I was out doing my paper route when it started. It went from flurries to me getting buried before I could blink."

"I believe it!" she laughed. "Well, at least we won't have school tomorrow."

"Probably for the rest of the week," I told her.

Tuesday, I helped Dad dig out, and helped my brother and sister build a toboggan run in the back yard. It started at the top of the bulkhead, six feet off the ground. That's how deep the drifts were!

Now it was Wednesday, the state was still shut down, and Mom had a proposition for me. My grandmother was snowed in. It was about a two-mile walk to her house. And walk is what I'd have to do--you couldn't drive, the roads were closed. Would I be willing to walk over there, dig her out, and then stay with her for a few days? Sure, I would--I had done this the first go-round.

Of course, there was a little difference this time--the route I took to get to Gram's. My street, Hereford Street, spilled out onto Border Street, a main road. Gram lived two miles down Border, on another side street in the next town. So, all I'd have to do was go to the end of my street, turn left, and keep walking. I didn't do that. I went the other way from my house, up through some side streets that paralleled Border St., and found myself turning onto Lee Rd., right where Kara lived.

I debated this. I debated this the whole way to her street, actually--debated pulling down one of the other side streets to head to Border St. Why? Well, I didn't want to look like I was pushing it.

I guess part of me kept saying that this wasn't supposed to happen. I mean anything between Kara and me, it just wasn't supposed to happen. I was ecstatic, of course, but I didn't trust it. Plus, we'd had one date, and a couple of phone conversations--all great, mind you, but not much. I wouldn't have been trusting it at this point in any case. So, I was worried about pushing.

But I headed for her house anyway. We weren't going to have school all week, it looked like, and I really did want to see her, if only for a minute.

When I rounded the corner on to the top of Lee Rd., there she was. Her whole family, actually: both of her parents, her brother and sister, and Kara. Mr. Pocharsky was shoveling, along with Kara's younger brother Dave. Kara had a shovel next to her, but seemed more intent on helping her little sister Angela build a snowman. Mrs. Pocharsky was just kind of watching over everything. In fact, she was the first one to see me as I came in front of the house. Mrs. Pocharsky said, "Kara," and then pointed past Kara towards me. Kara turned, and a huge smile split her face. Wasn't that nice to see!

"Hey!" she said, walking over to me. "Hi, Eddie! What are you doing here?"

"He's come to help us shovel out, right?" Mr. Pocharsky offered.

I laughed. "Normally, I'd offer, but I have to walk two miles to my grandmother's house and shovel her out." I looked at Kara. "And you're on the way, so I wanted to say hi."

"Where does your grandmother live?" Kara asked. I told her. Her eyes twinkled. "On the way, huh?" She knew the slightly varied route I'd taken.

"Well, sort of on the way," I said. "I wanted to see you, since we won't have school all week."

"Good!" she laughed. "Hold on a second." She went and talked to her mother, then came back to me. "Come on," she said, grabbing my hand and heading down the street.

"Huh?"

"You need to get to your grandmother's and shovel her out, you good grandson," she laughed. "I figured I could walk with you a bit. Up to the bowling alley or something."

"Great!" I agreed.

We walked to the end of Lee Rd, just chatting about whatever. At the end of Lee Rd., across Border St., there was a school--Cardinal Steen High School (where my sister would eventually end up going, at least the first time.) It had a large yard in front, which was pretty much untouched snow. Kara giggled and headed right into it.

"This is great! I should bring David and Angela down here to build a snowman." Then she flopped into it. It was so deep, she almost sank out of my view. "Snow angels!" she chirped, and started making one.

It struck me then. Was this the same Kara? Did changing timelines change the person? I thought about it, and decided--no. She'd been the same Kara I'd known for the four months I'd been 'back'. Today, she was different, though. Kara'd always been fairly serious and reserved. Not solemn or anything like that, just reserved. Today? She was positively giddy.

I said as much. "Boy, you're in a bubbly mood today!"

She laughed, still making a snow angel. "Snow makes me feel like a little kid, I guess." She stood up then--smiling, flushed, snow-covered, and grinning at me. "And, I admit," she said a little softer, "I'm happy to see you."

How did I get this lucky?

She stepped over towards me, out of the impression she had made in the snow. "You wanna see my snow angel?"

"I think I'm already looking at one," I blurted out. It was the right thing to say. Before I knew it, she was wrapped around me, pressing her lips into mine. We separated--me barely staying upright!--and then we got out of the snow drifts on the lawn and started walking.

I still didn't trust this, though. "Kara," I said to her after a minute, "have I changed that much?"

She thought for a few seconds, and then said, "Yes and no. I don't know, really. You changed enough to get me to go on a date with you. Quite honestly, I thought that's all it was going to be." She sighed. "But, you were right. I really don't, or didn't, know you." She looked at me with a little smile. "When we were on the phone Sunday night, you had me cracking up. It felt good. I really enjoyed our date Saturday. I was glad to see you today." She took a breath. "I don't understand it, either. It just is."

"Good enough for me," I laughed.

We walked, not saying much, until we got to the bowling alley. "I'd better turn back here," she sighed. She leaned up and kissed me again. "Call me, OK? Especially to let me know when you're coming home."

"Will do," I told her.

FEBRUARY 14^h, 1978

The eleventh was The Saturday After The Blizzard. Things were starting to open up just a wee bit, but it was still treacherous going. I had spent the last couple days with my grandmother, but decided to walk home today. I called Kara before I left.

"Great! I'll meet you!"

"Huh?" I said.

"I'll leave now and I'll meet you halfway."

Unbelievable.

When we met up, she kissed me. Then we started walking. We chatted easily until we got to her house. She kissed me again, a few houses from hers, then she went in.

Monday we were back in school. Wednesday was Valentine's Day. It seemed like I might actually have a valentine, for the very first time. So, I had to get her something, didn't I? I decided on a little scheme. I went for my run early Wednesday morning, with Kara's Valentines goodies in hand--a card, a couple of Valentine's heart-shaped balloons, and a bag filled with Hershey's Kisses. Kara had told me she was a confirmed chocoholic. The plan was to drop the bounty on her doorstep, so she'd see it when she opened the door--and then continue running. I'd hoped I was early enough; I didn't want to get 'caught'.

I creeped up to her doorstep, and arranged the stuff. I looked up--and the front door had opened! Damn, I thought, but it wasn't Kara. It was her mother, standing there with a big grin. I put my finger to my lips as if to say 'shhh'. She nodded and grinned wider. I took off before Kara came out.

Later that morning, I went to my locker in between classes. I opened it and an envelope fell out. I picked it up and opened it. It was from Kara. Underneath the printed message inside, she had signed it "Love, Kara," which was nice. But what she wrote on the opposite, blank, part was even better. It was in a different pen, so she must've added it after she went to her doorstep this morning. It said, "I couldn't believe it! You are the sweetest guy in the universe!" And she signed it with a heart, and her initials, KP, inside the heart.

Later, in English, I got a blinding smile for my troubles.

That day, on the bus, I was sitting a few rows away from her. She was sitting with Kelly. Another one of her cronies, Danica Rosen, was sitting behind her.

"Hershey's Kisses? You got kisses? Gimmee!" I heard Danica say.

"No way. These are mine. My Valentine gave them to me," Kara said.

"Valentine? You got a valentine? Who?" Danica asked her.

"I'm not tellin'!"

As if all this wasn't satisfying enough--I was barely in the front door of my house when the phone rang. And she was gushing!

I was reeling. This was Kara Pocharsky, for crying out loud, a girl who wouldn't give me the time of day the first time around! And now, somehow, I seemed to have found the key to her heart. And I wasn't quite sure how! I guess I really did know, even more than I thought I did, the mistakes I had made the first time around.

But still, sometimes it seemed like I hadn't stepped into my own past as much as I had stepped into the twilight zone!

MARCH 1^st, 1978

I guess I wasn't completely in the twilight zone, though. But I'll get back to that.

Between Valentine's Day and March 1^st, which was a Wednesday, Kara and I had gone out a few more times. We talked on the phone almost every night. After our last date, I had asked her, "So, are we dating now?"

"We're definitely dating now," she giggled. The kiss she gave me then could've set a house on fire!

This was important to me. I had a relationship, and it was going well. Well, it was even more special because it was with Kara. But having a real relationship, at only 13, was something else.

On my first go-round, I didn't have that. The closest I got was with Cyndi. After her, it wasn't until my senior year, when I was 17, that I had a relationship. Her name was Rosalie, and we were set up by a friend of mine. We went out from March of Senior Year until I left for school in September. I went to college in St. Louis, and neither of us wanted a long distance relationship, so we parted. However, she was sweet and we had fun.

The next summer, I dated my next-door neighbor Josephine. That was very nice, and it was my first real physical relationship, though we didn't go all the way. That lasted as a long-distance relationship all through first semester. We had joyous reunions at Thanksgiving and Christmas. In February, however, I got a Dear John letter.

The next four years, give or take, were one unrequited infatuation after another, combined with washing out of college. When I was 22, I looked up Rosalie again. I remembered her fondly from high school. We met up, and started dating again. Shortly thereafter, she got my virginity.

What a fucking mistake.

Rosalie had changed, a lot. I guess part of it was that I refused to see that. But part of it was my state of mind. I was 22, almost 23, and had had two brief relationships in my life. I was insecure about relationships, had no self-esteem, and was love and sex-starved. Quite honestly, I would've gone out with--and slept with--anybody that had offered at that point. Since I had fond memories of Rosalie, I was easy pickings.

But, as I said, Rosalie had changed. She'd gone to college and, basically, allowed anything with a prick to fuck her. She had her own self-esteem issues--and a lot of them had to do with control.

So, I was insecure and unsure and, frankly, desperate--and I ended up in a relationship with someone that had control issues.

Sound familiar to anyone? Sound familiar to anyone that's been in an abusive relationship?

And you thought that only happened to women.

It was mainly emotional, but I got one black eye out of it.

I'm not even the one that ended it, to my everlasting shame. She did... and I thought I'd lost something.

It's amazing--and depressing--how the failures of childhood follow you for too long a time.

Anyhow, this all popped into my mind, walking alongside Kara as we came home from one of our dates. There were probably a lot of reasons why Rosalie happened, and why I let it happen, but this was one of them; probably the biggest one. Because I never had this. I looked over at Kara, smiling, holding my hand, and realized--I never had this. It wasn't about sex--it was about having a teenaged relationship. I'd never done that, so I didn't know how to do it. And when it came time to have an adult relationship, the one with Rosalie is the one I found myself in.

I was thinking of all this. I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, and just wrapped my arms around Kara and hugged her, as tight as I could.

"Mmmmmm," she purred, "what was that for?"

"Just felt like it, is all," I said.

"You're such a sweetheart," she grinned, and we started walking again.

Like I said earlier--the fucking Twilight Zone. But if that's where I was, I didn't want to leave!

Of course, not completely, as the events of this day--March 1^st--made plain.

I missed the bus. I was at the phones in front of the school--damn, I missed cell phones!--trying to call my Mom. No answer. Damn.

I turned around to see Beth grinning at me. "Missed the bus and your Mom's not home again, right?"

"You got it, Beffy."

"Well, come on, then." Beth lived close enough to school to walk. This had happened a couple of times last year, where I missed the bus and couldn't get a hold of Mom. Beth and I walked to her house. I was able to hang out there until I could get ahold of Mom.

There was a shortcut from school to Beth's house, it ran along railroad tracks. We always went that way. And the tracks got us away from the busy streets--easier to talk that way. As I said, we'd done this a few times last year. This hadn't happened yet this year, though--in other words, it hadn't happened since she'd been diagnosed.

We loped along together down the railroad tracks. "So," she started with a grin, "is what I hear true?"

"What would that be?" I asked her.

"You're actually dating Kara Pocharsky?"

"Yeah," I admitted. "How did you find out, though?"

"Kara told me," she grinned. "We're in Home Ec together, you know, and we were assigned to be partners on a cooking project. I don't know her at all, except for your glowing descriptions," she smirked. "You know me, I don't talk a lot to people I don't know."

"And with those of us that are your friends, you talk our ears off," I teased.

"Yeah, yeah. Shut up," she grinned. "Anyway, she started it. Said to me, 'You're really good friends with Eddie Bovilas, aren't you?' I told her I was. That's when she told me you guys were going out. You must be on cloud nine," she smiled.

"Pretty much."

"We did that project together for a week, so we talked. She's very sweet. Smart, too. And she's nuts about you!"

"I know," I laughed. "Do not ask me how that happened."

"Well, I've noticed you've changed a lot this year. You're more confident. Once Kara got past that, she surely noticed how sweet you are. Knowing you, I'll bet you treat her like a queen."

"Yeah, basically," I smiled. "And she said the same thing--not being an annoying nerd allowed me to show her the good parts."

"I'm glad, I really am," Beth said. "Somebody's got to watch out for you."

"Yup, and since you did it all last year, I guess it's someone else's turn," I told her with a grin. I thought that that was a pretty innocuous comment. I was wrong. She looked at me in complete shock.

"What?" she gasped.

"You don't know? You got me through last year. I don't know what I would've done without you. Seventh grade was the worst year of my life. I felt like a complete outcast. Except around you. You introduced me to your friends. You told one of the assholes to get off my back in English class. If you saw me eating lunch alone, you dragged your friends over to eat with me. If I had a day when I was beat up or harassed, you were the one that told me it'd be all right. Last year was hell, Beth. The one and only bright spot was you." She was still looking at me like I was an alien being. She never knew this? The first time around, she died without knowing this? Of course, that time I'd never said it, either. I could kick myself.

Then, she started crying. "Beth? Did I say something wrong?" With that, she hurled herself at me. Before I knew it, I was holding in my arms 100 pounds of crying, shuddering female. I just stroked her hair and let her cry it out. Finally she calmed down--and tried to explain what she was thinking.

"God, Ed, I mean--I worry--I wonder... If, you know, it all means anything... if I had done any good... it's so short... I mean... did I do anything... before I, you know..."

I interrupted her. "You wonder if you've accomplished anything, if you did anything." She looked at me, and I understood the unspoken question. "Beth," I said gently, "I understand your prognosis, you know."

"You do?"

"Yeah." She took a breath, and started walking again. I walked beside her.

"I thought you were in denial."

"I probably was for a while. I'm not anymore."

"Everybody else is," she snorted. "Well, my Dad mostly isn't. But everybody else is. My Mom, my brothers, my friends--everybody's counting on a miracle."

"Beth, I know you well enough--you must have some hope."

"Oh, sure," she agreed. "But I'm also a realist. Let's face it--the odds are extremely high that I'm dying."

"I know," I said.

"And the problem with nobody else accepting this fact is that people keep looking towards the future. Maybe this, and possibly that, and keep hope up, and so on. I have trouble living that way. I find myself having to be realistic. The odds are I don't have much of a future. So I'm trying to live for today, you know? Every day I wake up still alive is another day--and that's a good thing."

Though we'd never had this conversation the first time around, I wasn't surprised by it. I'd heard from other people that this was her basic attitude for the whole time she was in remission. I'm glad I got the second chance to talk to her about it, though.

"I see what you mean," I told her, "but you worry that you're not doing anything."

"Yeah."

"Well, you did for me. I'm not exaggerating, OK? You were my rock last year. Plus, you're my best friend. You've always been my best friend. That means a lot to me. It might not mean much in the grand scheme of things, but it means a lot to me."

"You saying that means a lot to me," she said. "I must admit, though, that it almost seemed as if you've been avoiding me."

"Well, I probably have, at least a little bit. Trying to get myself together about it, is all. I mean, shit--what do you say?"

"You just said it," she smiled.

"Good, then," I said. "And I promise I won't be avoiding you. Now that we got this out of the way."

"Good," she said. We were walking hand-in-hand down the railroad tracks. "Of course, Kara will probably be upset," she joked.

"No, she won't. Kara knows, Beth. She also understands. Honestly, when I tell her about this conversation, she'll be happy we had it."

"Good. Then she really is good for you. That's good to know." She paused. "There was one thing that puzzled me, though, and Kara didn't really answer it. Why do I never see you guys together?"

"Because we don't do that in school," I told her. She looked at me. "Kara and I dating isn't common knowledge. Kara's not ready for that."

"Well, that's not very nice," Beth said.

I laughed. "Maybe so, but I understand it. When it gets out, there's going to be shit. Some of her friends aren't going to accept this. You know my reputation. You see through it, and so does Kara. Now Kara's best friend, Kelly Cullinane, sees through it, too. Kelly knows about Kara and I. But a lot of the rest of Kara's crowd just sees the reputation."

"Ah. That must be tough for you, though."

"A little, but I think it'll take care of itself. Hell, we've not even been going out a month yet. Kara told me she wanted to make sure this really was something before she went public with it. We're not exactly secretive--only in school. I go to her house and pick her up, and all her friends live in her neighborhood. It's just luck we haven't been spotted."

"I can sort of understand that. I'm glad she told me, though," Beth said.

"So am I, since I hadn't had a chance to," I laughed.