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- Story Listed as: True Life For Teens
- Theme: Love stories / Romance
- Subject: Love / Romance / Dating
- Published: 09/10/2010
25 (Part II)
Born 1957, M, from Oxford, Ohio, United States(Note that this is Part II of the story. Please read Part I first.)
25, continued...
Robbie was sitting up now, her head resting on the top of the back seat.
âAre you alright?â Judy asked, with her typical concern.
Turning completely around, I was up on my knees, facing the girls. âYeah, you ok??⌠& where the hellâs your boyfriend? We gotta go!â
With her eyes fixed on the ceiling, Robbie was still trying to catch her breath. âIâm sorry you all. Iâm fine. Guess I just lost it for a second, but Iszzy said heâd be right behind me & I panicked when the door wouldnât open right away. Where is he? Michael, should you go get him?â
âNah, if he told you he was coming, heâll be here.â I knew the girls had been uncomfortable with our âgetawayâ from the startâŚ[they just werenât getting the same kick as me & Isz] âŚso I tried to turn their attention away from the moment. âWadda you guys wanna do after this? We could get some breakfast, maybe at that all-night truck stop on â75.â They each looked at the other & kinda hunched their shoulders, not saying anything.
I asked Robbie if her parents had met Iszzy yet, seen the wanna-be rock star. She giggled & said âIâm not sure theyâre ready for that yet. I know my dadâs not. He ran off the last guy I was seeing. Bobby was a nice guy, but he didnât have a job & my dad said that he didnât think the boy had ever changed his jeans⌠& he really didnât like me riding in his van. It was the coolest VW bus⌠all psychedelic, & had Mickey Mouse painted right on the hood!â
âWell, Judyâs mom isnât crazy about me eitherâŚdoesnât care for the long hair & beard. Sheâs always comparing me to Judyâs old boyfriend & generally thinks Iâm a bad influence. Sheâs probably right.â
âMackel, my daddy likes youâŚ& as far as my motherâŚâ
âOH MY GOD, HERE HE COMES!â screamed Robbie.
Right away I knew Iâd messed up. By this time, both of my feet were resting in the seat. The car was turned off & I was lost in conversation with the two southern belleâs in the back. Not what my partner had hoped to see from âthe driverâ and believe me, Iszzy has never let me live this down, reminding me again & again over the years who blew our chance for a clean getaway. In his words at the time, âHalc, you f***ed me.â
Again, Robbie screamed [along with Judy] âHERE HE COMES!â
Clutching the steering wheel, I spun myself forward and attempted to start the car, pumping the gas pedal up & down a million times [but it wouldnât turn over, you know, like it always wonât do in those scary movies]. Immediately spotting his ride, Iszzy thought, âMan this is gonna be great. Iâll jump through the window [just like they do on The Dukes of Hazzard], weâll speed awayâŚlaughing like hell as we lose emâ in the dust.â
Didnât happen exactly like that. The car was flooded. You could smell that gasoline smell. Time crawled. Seconds passed like minutes. It felt like forever before my car sputtered to a start⌠& the radio blasting away. Crazily enough, âGimme Three Stepsâ was playing. Iâd say it fit.
âI was scared and fearing for my life. I was shakinâ like a leaf on a tree. âCause he was lean & mean, Big and bad, LordâŚ"
âI-S-S-E-E-E-E!!!â âŚRobbie continued to yell.
Judy didnât want anything to do with what was taking place⌠didnât wanna hear it and didnât wanna see it as she slumped lower & lower in the back seat, almost in the floor. Robbie would later kid Judy about it; how both eyes were shut tight as could be & how she was cupping those tiny ears with her hands.
Seeing Iszzy break towards the car, I gunned the engine, pressing the pedal to the floor. âCâmon man, letâs go!â
âWonât you give me three steps
Gimme three steps mister,
Gimme three steps towards the door
Gimme three steps
Gimme three steps mister,
And youâll never see me no more.â
What happened next, I swear to you, happened in slow motion.
Iszzy had only taken three or four steps in our direction when the linebacker [all 250 pounds of him] broke through the front door of Joe Bâs. He had one thing on his mind⌠make the tackle. With this guy right on his ass, Isz chose flight over fight & scrapped his âHollywood exitâ. Leaping from the sidewalk over the dinged up newspaper stand, he belly flopped onto the hood of my car. I couldnât believe what I was seeing. But even crazier than watching Iszzy fly through the air was to see the football player take the same path and land right on top of him⌠& both of âem, cheek to cheek, looking at me through the windshield. I can still the disappointment on Iszzyâs face; as if to say âwhy isnât this car moving?â But it was way too late for that.
I didnât quite know how to react to what I had just witnessed. I really wanted to laugh. I wanted to laugh hard. But there was complete silence; no one was saying a word⌠and I guess I kinda gave Isz a break by staying quiet [for the moment]. Not that he would have done the same. Thereâs no way in hell he woulda kept his mouth shut if the shoe had been on the other footâŚ& I was the one being carted away.
I turned off the carâŚlooked over my shoulder to check on Judy & Robbie. They were huddled together, both of them showing faces of disbelief.
âStay right here guys, lemme see how much trouble weâre in.â
Not wanting to draw attention, I slowly got outta my car, pressing the door closed; not allowing the weighty door to slam shut. The burly bouncer had a death grip on Isgriggâs upper arm, slowly escorting him back to the restaurant [leaving bruised finger imprints that Isz would proudly show off the next couple a days]. I followed them through a small crowd of eight or ten that had grouped around the entrance. Heard a few cheers of support & saw smiles from a couple of girls I remembered seeing earlier. It was well after midnight & the place had just closed. From what I could tell, the only people left inside was that skinny dude from the kitchen, our waitress & a squatty older Greek guy, who was squeezed into an outdated dark gray three-piece suit that he was about 30 pounds too heavy for. âMr. Fashionâ turned out to be the owner. I joined Iszzy, leaning up against the cigarette machine. His shirt was hanginâ out, sweat was rollinâ down the sides of his face & in his eyes; the complete look of disgust he had is still fresh in my memory.
âGodd***n Halcomb, youâd be hell in a bank robbery.â
I cracked a smile & glanced at the kitchen guy⌠who kinda snorted through his nose & shook his head, shuffling through the front door. Standing alone next to our booth with hands resting on her hips & a puzzled look twisting her face, our waitress called the owner over. He jerked his tie loose, pulling it out of his shirt collar & stuffed it into his pants pocket. Looking towards the floor, he ran his stubby fingers through greased hair. Raising his head, he scowled at Isz & grunted âCâmon.â
Her emerald green eyes were still bright after a long night of waiting tables, but she looked tired. A small grin found its way to those pouty lips as she fanned herself with the bills, waving them back & forth. Apparently she hadnât made it back to our table since Iszzy split or she woulda seen the cash he left, more than enough to pay our tab.
âYâall arenât gonna believe this.â
The owner snatched the beer soaked check from our table⌠reading it up & down, squinting through coke bottle eyeglasses. He looked at Isz⌠read the check again⌠looked at me. âWhat the hellâs goin on?â
We were as confused as he was. As it turned out, Iszzy [in his haste or drunken stupor, whichever you choose to believe] pulled two tenâs out of his pocket, instead of the two one dollar bills he thought he was leaving as a tip. Isz & I didnât even try to explain [what are ya gonna say??]. We were just damn relieved that we didnât get our asses kicked or find ourselves chained to the kitchen, washing dishes till our debt was worked off.
âI guess thereâs no reason to hold you two any longer, the moneyâs right. Just go on & get daâ hell outta here. I donât wanna see you in Joe Bolognaâs again.â [Over 25 years passed before my next visit].
The front door shut behind us⌠the dead bolt turned immediately. Sounded like one of those prison movies with the cell door slamming shut. Thankfully, we were on the outside.
âWhat happened?â asked Robbie, running up & throwing her arms around Iszzyâs neck. Still pissed, he didnât wanna talk about it. Isz pushed her arms down & climbed into the back seat.
Judy was sitting up front and turned towards me as I got behind the wheel. Starting the car, I leaned over, brushing my face across hers & whispered, âIâll tell you about it later.â
A light rain began to fall soon after pulling away from the curb. Slowly driving across town, the dark tree-lined streets were quiet. No one said a thing. Squeaking wipers dragging across the windshield was the only sound.
I followed the signs to South 75. It was almost two in the morning & we were on our way home, back to Richmond. Judy had gradually moved closer to me, holding my hand in hers. Taking a deep breath, I took the whole night in⌠inhaling the sweet âafter-the rainâ smell⌠making our
way down the lonesome highway.
Judy slowly leaned forward, deliberately moving her hand to the radio, all the while looking at me with eyes open wide & raised eyebrows [as though asking for permission]. Carefully, she turned the knob clockwise, clicking it on. And just like always, she grabbed my arm & squeezedâŚhearing the first few notes of the song⌠that âblack waterâ song.
I straightened up. Searching for his eyes in the rearview mirror, I found âem in the blackness staring right back at me. Robbie had fallen asleep on his shoulder. It had been a long eventful night for the
four of us. I looked at the road in front of me, returned to his eyes, again to the headlights coming from the south & back to Isz.
âCâmon man, give me a sign.â I thought to myself.
Isz opened his eyes a little widerâŚstaring right at me. He gave me a slight nod, along with a short kick to the back of my seat. Thatâs what I was looking for.
âGo ahead Jude⌠turn it up.â
âMississippi moon wonât you keep on shininâ on me
Yeah, keep on shinin your light, gonna make every thing
Pretty mama, gonna make everything all right
And I ainât got no worries âcause I ainât in no hurry at all.â
25 (Part II)(Michael Halcomb)
(Note that this is Part II of the story. Please read Part I first.)
25, continued...
Robbie was sitting up now, her head resting on the top of the back seat.
âAre you alright?â Judy asked, with her typical concern.
Turning completely around, I was up on my knees, facing the girls. âYeah, you ok??⌠& where the hellâs your boyfriend? We gotta go!â
With her eyes fixed on the ceiling, Robbie was still trying to catch her breath. âIâm sorry you all. Iâm fine. Guess I just lost it for a second, but Iszzy said heâd be right behind me & I panicked when the door wouldnât open right away. Where is he? Michael, should you go get him?â
âNah, if he told you he was coming, heâll be here.â I knew the girls had been uncomfortable with our âgetawayâ from the startâŚ[they just werenât getting the same kick as me & Isz] âŚso I tried to turn their attention away from the moment. âWadda you guys wanna do after this? We could get some breakfast, maybe at that all-night truck stop on â75.â They each looked at the other & kinda hunched their shoulders, not saying anything.
I asked Robbie if her parents had met Iszzy yet, seen the wanna-be rock star. She giggled & said âIâm not sure theyâre ready for that yet. I know my dadâs not. He ran off the last guy I was seeing. Bobby was a nice guy, but he didnât have a job & my dad said that he didnât think the boy had ever changed his jeans⌠& he really didnât like me riding in his van. It was the coolest VW bus⌠all psychedelic, & had Mickey Mouse painted right on the hood!â
âWell, Judyâs mom isnât crazy about me eitherâŚdoesnât care for the long hair & beard. Sheâs always comparing me to Judyâs old boyfriend & generally thinks Iâm a bad influence. Sheâs probably right.â
âMackel, my daddy likes youâŚ& as far as my motherâŚâ
âOH MY GOD, HERE HE COMES!â screamed Robbie.
Right away I knew Iâd messed up. By this time, both of my feet were resting in the seat. The car was turned off & I was lost in conversation with the two southern belleâs in the back. Not what my partner had hoped to see from âthe driverâ and believe me, Iszzy has never let me live this down, reminding me again & again over the years who blew our chance for a clean getaway. In his words at the time, âHalc, you f***ed me.â
Again, Robbie screamed [along with Judy] âHERE HE COMES!â
Clutching the steering wheel, I spun myself forward and attempted to start the car, pumping the gas pedal up & down a million times [but it wouldnât turn over, you know, like it always wonât do in those scary movies]. Immediately spotting his ride, Iszzy thought, âMan this is gonna be great. Iâll jump through the window [just like they do on The Dukes of Hazzard], weâll speed awayâŚlaughing like hell as we lose emâ in the dust.â
Didnât happen exactly like that. The car was flooded. You could smell that gasoline smell. Time crawled. Seconds passed like minutes. It felt like forever before my car sputtered to a start⌠& the radio blasting away. Crazily enough, âGimme Three Stepsâ was playing. Iâd say it fit.
âI was scared and fearing for my life. I was shakinâ like a leaf on a tree. âCause he was lean & mean, Big and bad, LordâŚ"
âI-S-S-E-E-E-E!!!â âŚRobbie continued to yell.
Judy didnât want anything to do with what was taking place⌠didnât wanna hear it and didnât wanna see it as she slumped lower & lower in the back seat, almost in the floor. Robbie would later kid Judy about it; how both eyes were shut tight as could be & how she was cupping those tiny ears with her hands.
Seeing Iszzy break towards the car, I gunned the engine, pressing the pedal to the floor. âCâmon man, letâs go!â
âWonât you give me three steps
Gimme three steps mister,
Gimme three steps towards the door
Gimme three steps
Gimme three steps mister,
And youâll never see me no more.â
What happened next, I swear to you, happened in slow motion.
Iszzy had only taken three or four steps in our direction when the linebacker [all 250 pounds of him] broke through the front door of Joe Bâs. He had one thing on his mind⌠make the tackle. With this guy right on his ass, Isz chose flight over fight & scrapped his âHollywood exitâ. Leaping from the sidewalk over the dinged up newspaper stand, he belly flopped onto the hood of my car. I couldnât believe what I was seeing. But even crazier than watching Iszzy fly through the air was to see the football player take the same path and land right on top of him⌠& both of âem, cheek to cheek, looking at me through the windshield. I can still the disappointment on Iszzyâs face; as if to say âwhy isnât this car moving?â But it was way too late for that.
I didnât quite know how to react to what I had just witnessed. I really wanted to laugh. I wanted to laugh hard. But there was complete silence; no one was saying a word⌠and I guess I kinda gave Isz a break by staying quiet [for the moment]. Not that he would have done the same. Thereâs no way in hell he woulda kept his mouth shut if the shoe had been on the other footâŚ& I was the one being carted away.
I turned off the carâŚlooked over my shoulder to check on Judy & Robbie. They were huddled together, both of them showing faces of disbelief.
âStay right here guys, lemme see how much trouble weâre in.â
Not wanting to draw attention, I slowly got outta my car, pressing the door closed; not allowing the weighty door to slam shut. The burly bouncer had a death grip on Isgriggâs upper arm, slowly escorting him back to the restaurant [leaving bruised finger imprints that Isz would proudly show off the next couple a days]. I followed them through a small crowd of eight or ten that had grouped around the entrance. Heard a few cheers of support & saw smiles from a couple of girls I remembered seeing earlier. It was well after midnight & the place had just closed. From what I could tell, the only people left inside was that skinny dude from the kitchen, our waitress & a squatty older Greek guy, who was squeezed into an outdated dark gray three-piece suit that he was about 30 pounds too heavy for. âMr. Fashionâ turned out to be the owner. I joined Iszzy, leaning up against the cigarette machine. His shirt was hanginâ out, sweat was rollinâ down the sides of his face & in his eyes; the complete look of disgust he had is still fresh in my memory.
âGodd***n Halcomb, youâd be hell in a bank robbery.â
I cracked a smile & glanced at the kitchen guy⌠who kinda snorted through his nose & shook his head, shuffling through the front door. Standing alone next to our booth with hands resting on her hips & a puzzled look twisting her face, our waitress called the owner over. He jerked his tie loose, pulling it out of his shirt collar & stuffed it into his pants pocket. Looking towards the floor, he ran his stubby fingers through greased hair. Raising his head, he scowled at Isz & grunted âCâmon.â
Her emerald green eyes were still bright after a long night of waiting tables, but she looked tired. A small grin found its way to those pouty lips as she fanned herself with the bills, waving them back & forth. Apparently she hadnât made it back to our table since Iszzy split or she woulda seen the cash he left, more than enough to pay our tab.
âYâall arenât gonna believe this.â
The owner snatched the beer soaked check from our table⌠reading it up & down, squinting through coke bottle eyeglasses. He looked at Isz⌠read the check again⌠looked at me. âWhat the hellâs goin on?â
We were as confused as he was. As it turned out, Iszzy [in his haste or drunken stupor, whichever you choose to believe] pulled two tenâs out of his pocket, instead of the two one dollar bills he thought he was leaving as a tip. Isz & I didnât even try to explain [what are ya gonna say??]. We were just damn relieved that we didnât get our asses kicked or find ourselves chained to the kitchen, washing dishes till our debt was worked off.
âI guess thereâs no reason to hold you two any longer, the moneyâs right. Just go on & get daâ hell outta here. I donât wanna see you in Joe Bolognaâs again.â [Over 25 years passed before my next visit].
The front door shut behind us⌠the dead bolt turned immediately. Sounded like one of those prison movies with the cell door slamming shut. Thankfully, we were on the outside.
âWhat happened?â asked Robbie, running up & throwing her arms around Iszzyâs neck. Still pissed, he didnât wanna talk about it. Isz pushed her arms down & climbed into the back seat.
Judy was sitting up front and turned towards me as I got behind the wheel. Starting the car, I leaned over, brushing my face across hers & whispered, âIâll tell you about it later.â
A light rain began to fall soon after pulling away from the curb. Slowly driving across town, the dark tree-lined streets were quiet. No one said a thing. Squeaking wipers dragging across the windshield was the only sound.
I followed the signs to South 75. It was almost two in the morning & we were on our way home, back to Richmond. Judy had gradually moved closer to me, holding my hand in hers. Taking a deep breath, I took the whole night in⌠inhaling the sweet âafter-the rainâ smell⌠making our
way down the lonesome highway.
Judy slowly leaned forward, deliberately moving her hand to the radio, all the while looking at me with eyes open wide & raised eyebrows [as though asking for permission]. Carefully, she turned the knob clockwise, clicking it on. And just like always, she grabbed my arm & squeezedâŚhearing the first few notes of the song⌠that âblack waterâ song.
I straightened up. Searching for his eyes in the rearview mirror, I found âem in the blackness staring right back at me. Robbie had fallen asleep on his shoulder. It had been a long eventful night for the
four of us. I looked at the road in front of me, returned to his eyes, again to the headlights coming from the south & back to Isz.
âCâmon man, give me a sign.â I thought to myself.
Isz opened his eyes a little widerâŚstaring right at me. He gave me a slight nod, along with a short kick to the back of my seat. Thatâs what I was looking for.
âGo ahead Jude⌠turn it up.â
âMississippi moon wonât you keep on shininâ on me
Yeah, keep on shinin your light, gonna make every thing
Pretty mama, gonna make everything all right
And I ainât got no worries âcause I ainât in no hurry at all.â
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