Mudslide

September, 1990

Starting classes at EIT came with an elaborate buildup since the quarter begins mid-September. It felt kinda cool at first to not have to start up another level with the "kids", ones you know plus some kindy-gardners you never would. You hear your classmates making plans, changing plans, enlisting, having babies, as if anyone knows what the hell to do.

Nick tries to start a thick slab of a Stephen King paperback as he would have as a freshman back in the Reagan years, but a nagging, shadowy sense of loss gets in the way, that daily circuit has been broken, folks you don't talk to but have known essentially all your waking life, now frozen in amber. These days you run into one of the guys at Sears and actually have a conversation, as if that were the norm all along, you hadn't actually spoken since eighth grade. He gets to know most of the characters in It before classes begin then puts it away for good before the reunion gets going.

He first became familiar with the campus when his folks would take family walks on holidays or nice weekends, there's a couple miles of trails throughout the woods, and they even cross-country ski when enough snow cover. At one point you come to a small pond full of bobtails behind one of the buildings, and there's a solitary playset, with a slide and swings. Nick tried to picture college students playing on it but that didn't seem right, it wasn't until he heard that EIT has an Early Childhood Development program with a student-run daycare that it begins to make sense.

At the end of his hazy junior year he took some kind of fill-in-the-dot-with-a-number-two-pencil test at the campus on a Saturday, but then never learned the results of it; principal seemed to have forgotten about them sending students by the time his senior year started. Nick figured he just didn't do well enough on it to stand out.

But the office definitely announced the recruiting event that EIT Engineering Tech department was holding, so Nick signs up and finds out that he's the only one in a class of 180 that showed interest to go, so if you have transportation just sign out and have fun and bring us back the excuse. At the campus he's quickly immersed in a bus load from one of the small town schools, hangs out with an affable dude who seems popular and in good terms with the babes. They get an intro from the ET director, the faculty introduce their programs, tour the facility with some poor students on hand to demonstrate here and there.

At the point where they tour the EET lab he makes a point to introduce himself to Al Glass, one of his dad's former comrades from the early days, and finds out they still call him Goody. They provide lunch at the cafeteria and it's the only time Nick had ever downed two whole hamburgers, it smelled too good in there. No fries, just magic patties and steamy buns that somehow didn't need any toppings. It was clear that EIT wanted to make a good impression on prospects, nothing wrong with that, maybe they knew these greensters still thrive on the basics, protein and calories.

It was a feelgood day, they sent you home with the application, have your school send a transcript, he did all that, and he got the acceptance letter just after graduation. The deal was that his folks would pay the tuition as long as he would work and pay his own gas and daytime meals and such, it all seemed to fall into place. He went out to register on the designated evening, in the auditorium for some reason, the director Sue whats-her-name was there and gave a welcome as she signed the slip, no problems since it's right in line with the catalog, just take this to the registrar.

Sometime in August he receives his schedule and heads to Kmart to grab a new Trapper, although the simplicity of a five-subject wirebound has its attraction too. Yeah, maybe just some durable folders and the wirebound, there's pens at home, this will be fun. This is where things start to turn up after losing Paps.

"Nick he was so proud of you for getting accepted, we know you'll do great."

One afternoon, to bide his time before work he finds a piece of his mom's typing paper and draws a grid, five columns and, lessee, one-two-three...the first class is at 9am and the last ends at four, then there's that lab twice a week. They use R for Thursday, and instead of an F the failing grade is an E, hopefully we won't see many of those. So with some colored pencils that he'd gotten in the extended family gift exchange a couple years ago he makes a Color Schedule to hang on the corkboard next to the workbench.

Then finally the first Monday arrives, overcast but not too cool, math course begins at 9 but he gets to campus around 8 since they were warned that parking will be crazy at first, until folks start to ride share or just bugger out. Nick sits in the Cordoba a while and tries to relax, but the tummy gurgles, the egg sandwich hit the spot but then, nerves. This is so silly. It's just sitting in a class, taking notes, maybe answering questions, he's surely already seen the material, but he needs to unload. It's not urgent but needs to happen.

Nick gets out with his books under arm and heads to Gelding Hall, the first building from when the U initially branched here back in the 50s or so. There's a really neat sculpture of a winged motorcycle at one end, or at least there used to be, need to check on that. But not now. He heads to the basement and thankfully it seems pretty vacant, seems there's a mens' - ahh there's the door. No one around, pick the middle stall, balance the books on the T of the doors, might need to see about a backpack, wipe down the seat, pull 'em down.

Mudslide. Good lord. This is so silly. This is one of those times you stand, flush, then sit back down to clean up. All better. Some things the body does when the mind is uncertain will just never make sense. Moving on.

He heads over to the Tech building and finds the room, but settles in the little lobby for now. There's a couple dudes there but not talking, they are probably fellow greens, first day here officially. Eventually one of them checks the clock and heads down the hall, and that prompts the other two. The clock-checker heads past but Nick and the second one slip into Room 153 for some math.

The schedule had just said "Staff" as the instructor, but then in walks George King, one of the Electronic Tech instructors. Gradually the room fleshes out and George takes roll, does the intro, sets the pace, and just starts into some equations when the door opens and a character strolls in, or rather, winds in, with some kind of hip condition that sets his gate into a pitcher-windup sort of motion, long scraggly hair and some beard, wide eyes and smells like an oft-damp basement. King George, as Goody calls him, verifies his place on the roster as Harvey Stump. Mixing with 'adults' was certainly gonna be interesting. The dude who had first joined Nick in the room was named Dave.

Later in the day he gets to the English Comp class on the third floor of Gelding, taught by a Chicagoan named Dan, and after the introduction passes out a syllabus as people straggle in and things gradually get organized. Some can't find a seat and not everyone can even see the prof, and so he says he'll have to request a bigger room, so on Wednesday there will be a sign outside the room of this door.

Wednesday arrives and people gradually trickle into the new room. Dan gets established at the front and does a reset, and makes sure everyone has a syllabus, goes over a few things, then passes out the first assignment, a one-pager to get the ball rolling, due on Friday, and ends the class with "Good luck." Nick had heard that some college instructors would drop you to a C for just misplacing a comma, but that must be in advanced university courses, this seemed pretty laid back, but still, time to roll.

On Thursday Nick found the Apple II lab in the library and brought his old 5.25 inch floppies from word processing class at JHS. There were some dumb notes to girls still on there, he wonders if they appreciated his wit, never got any comments, but also a rather ambitious case study of computer larceny from the same time span. In less than an hour he has his page typed, formatted, and spit out in that same font that all ImageWriters seem to spit out.

The second Monday starts with clearer skies and mind, we know what to expect, even if the drafting class seems a bit rigid, he's not good at neatness when it comes to pencil lead. They all file into English Comp and he takes a seat at the back next to a petite gal who had graduated from one of the township schools, Dan wheels in an overhead projector and starts putting some of the papers up to review in a group, with the author's name redacted of course. Nick tries to keep calm when the second one up is his own.

7 1/2 WPM

The dahs and dits faithfully float in across the ether just as Nick floats in and out of consciousness on a breezy afternoon. He caught the slower code practice and just lets it roll,

A S W I T H H A N D H E L D S O F T H I S S I Z E ,

He's pretty sure that a handheld is a handie-talkie, which is what ham types call walkie-talkies, and this sounds like a product review. The speed picks up after they identify themselves and say which issue page of the journal is being tapped out today. So does someone sit there and tap it out each time? Sounds too perfect. Must be a tape or maybe they automate it with programming and one of those sound cards for the PC, which would make a killer project some day if one had the funds.

He can copy pretty good into the seven and a half words per minute range, and some at the ten words.

Taking the license test would be a breeze if he could get it done soon, at least for the lowest class license. Actually, shouldn't say 'lowest', it's the entry-level class with the least privileges, ya gotta start somewhere. Actually if he does the code then he could get the higher frequency range as well as selected slivers of the shortwave bands, might as well do it all at once.

Nick had thought about contacting some of Pap's old club mates to see about the test, but it would mean taking a day to drive up there, and if he did that he'd feel obligated to stop by Gramma's.

"Now honey you wouldn't have to see her, she'd love it though, I might even go with you and stay with her," his mom would offer.

At one point he had asked Goody if he had any local contacts, he did, and was thinking of getting into radio himself.

After the code gets past his comprehension, still in the cattails but mentally rested, the gal floats into range as if astride the tallest horse in the cavalry, unstoppable, and even when they begin the inevitable fantasy she's impermeable, unwavering, willing yet not revealing any secrets, even though he can't help but imagine them completely unclothed, her bouncing on top, getting and giving as if in a deep state of worship, concepts he'll never understand in a thousand lifetimes-

"NICK what sounds good for supper?" Irene yells from the bottom of the stairs but somehow pierces like she's a foot away.

He jumps a foot and before trying to think of an answer he has to grin at how some things just never change.

NX

Cheers from every seat in the arena roar as the Administrator and her aides stride toward her motorcade, it was a rousing address giving hope and inspiration to millions. Known as NX, although her charisma cannot be summed up in a mere name, the symbol of all that is good in the world and the uniting force for the path forward.

"So you dreamt this-"

"Yeah, before I woke up, it kinda hit me in a flash."

"So this NX looks like me."

"She IS you."

"What does she wear?"

"It's red, a, what do you call it, maybe a leotard?"

"Oh please, I don't have the body for that."

"Your body rocks, and so does NX."

"Well, maybe with a matching shawl, we'll work on it. So she rules the world?"

"She leads the people."

"And does she have a consort?"

"What do you mean?"

"Does she have a fellow to support her?"

"He goes by NS."

"And does NS wear a leotard?"

"He usually wears a hot tub."

Noreen pauses for a second. "You are way too good at this for your own sake, you know that?"

"What, it's just something that popped in my head."

"God if you ever got me in a hot tub..."

"Sounds nice."

"Honey, nice wouldn't have nothin' to do with it, believe me. Anyway...mmm, next topic, Mom was glad to see us, said we seem happy together, and was trying to get me to admit certain things."

"Moms are like that, you gotta stay ahead of 'em."

"Well they usually know what's going on but want to hear you say it."

"Yeah it's always chess with them."

She just sighs. "Nick what are we ever going to do with you?"

"I get that a lot."

"Your poor mother, I should pick her some flowers."

"Bring 'em with you tomorrow."

"So are you inviting me to over?"

"Mom said you're welcome here anytime, Timbutt will get here in the afternoon, we'll eat later, then the Forth with grandparents, Sunday with Mom's gang, Monday we're fishing with Dad."

"Very good, yeah we're gonna do a big fire pit then they'll be blowing things up into the wee hours. How about...if I get there around 4?"

"That should be perfectionism."

"Alright, that should give me time to do some things and clean up, then come to her aid."

"And see me."

"Yeah I suppose you'll be there too, oh well."

"Now about that tape..."

"Ooh did you like it?"

"It's sexy, it's sweet, it sounds like you...is that Thorogood live? Rockin' and a reelin', wheelin an a dealin..."

"Yeah I tried to find some rock stuff, brothers come in handy like that."

"I think 106 played that track later at night back in junior high days, brought back memories."

"Bring back any from the drive in?"

"Uhhh yeah that too, oh, and the second side was interesting."

"Yeah...wait, what, second side?"

"Mmmm hmmm."

She pauses, "What the hell was on the second side, do I wanna know?"

"Well it starts out some voices, then a count, then drums, then a bass kicks in, then it sounds like you singing Steve Miller with a dude."

"Oh buggah."

"Was I not supposed to hear it?"

"Nick you should probably ignore that."

"Honey you should know it's too late. I've played it several times, can't get enough."

"Oh man...I got so wrapped up finding all the tracks and dubbing I forgot to check the other side...OK, yeah that was the time Arden wanted to see what it was like to record music, the boy has a creative side that never fully developed, outside the shop at least."

"Ahhh huh."

"That's really it, we couldn't get a good sound but it was nice to mess with my bass again."

"I thought of running it through an EQ to try and clean it up some, would be fun to play it in the car."

"Yeah right, if you want we could just try it again sometime, dummy still has his drums and you could join in somewhere."

"Hmmmm."

"Well, just be warned...um...at the time he was trying to get inspired with certain herbs, if you catch my drift."

"Oh so it was hazy-dazy."

"Yeah hazy-dazy, I didn't take a puff but started feeling pretty warped by the third time through, I guess it fits the song though, midnight toker."

"Great band name, Hazy Daisy."

"No shit, I might have gone with that back in the day. Just never made the right connections outside of the classical stuff, different worlds, you know."

"Prog bands kinda blend it all together."

"Those guys are usually geniuses from England though."

"You've got the accent down pretty good at least."

In her perfect Brit, "why thank you, good squire."

Edna

Tuesday, June 30, 1992

The campus snack bar is open lunchtime hours during the summer and does full menu if you don't mind waiting for things to be made fresh, and it's much more peaceful without the in-house radio rocking out in the background. Nick and Noreen are at the same table at the back where they got reacquainted just a few weeks – actually, wow, months ago. She actually brought in her own salad and he thought a fish sandwich sounded good, not like they didn't mind the wait, despite spitting precipitation keeping them off the patio.

He had been wanting to stop by the lab and touch base with Brian, so they went over some things. It sounded like there was about 20% routine matters and then the rest was come and go, most equipment was all set but there would be a few calibrations due soon, but nothing major. Brian had gone ahead and checked parts inventory and gotten an order ready but would leave that for Nick if he wanted. Sure, why not.

Noreen caught up with him, right on schedule Goody had to ask if she'd gotten her eyes checked recently.

"I don't think it would do either of us any good, so we'll leave well enough alone."

So they take their time after eating, the day has a mixed vibe, he gets to meet her mom today.

"Nick have you ever been in a nursing home?"

"A few times, mostly as a kid."

"OK, just wanted to make sure. Some things a person can never be fully ready for."

"I know." They squeeze hands as she stares out the window.

He isn't concerned about what he might face, this just feels right.

The weekend had been somewhat of a drag, the wet weather was fitting. At one point he listened to a severe weather net on the scanner and thought that might be good to help with at some point, but he wasn't otherwise motivated, couldn't ride the bike, work was filled with the pangs of landing back on earth, the morning reared its head too soon, he was never good at catching up on sleep. A lot of things were started then abandoned, tried to watch TV, ended up dozing off to music here and there.

He almost called her during jazz but it seemed too soon, things were still aglow, words get in the way. A long shower after work was just plain soothing. He would have to let the jazz do its work tonight and let Sunday come.

And it did, she rang late morning with a question about computers that didn't fool anyone, chalk it up to her sense of humor, even if at a subconscious level.

"It's good to hear your voice," he admits. "Wish we could watch some of this stuff I've been taping."

"Hold onto those, we'll get a chance, gotta plan it right, you know where that will lead if we curl up,  plus it will be colder in a few months."

"Yeah good point."

"So, do you have some time this week, did you want to go with me to see Mom?"

With more rain in the forecast they were going to have to pick a day and make it a good one, so far so good, although Nick seems to be enjoying it more. She walks with noticeably less pert than usual, he's just glad she can be herself, but he tries rubbing her shoulders some.

She smiles, "Sweetie I appreciate you coming with me and trying to make me feel better."

"That's what we do isn't it?"

She moves her chair next to his and leans on him, tears up a bit, and pretty soon he realizes her weight feels like a warm bag of sand, bushes dance for them in the weeping window.

After a bit she draws a breath, "Ready hon?"

"Ready Freddie."

This gets an ember of earnest smile.

Thankfully he's parked closer and offers to do the driving. They get on the main road, and he tries, "I hear Coverdale and Page are gonna do an album soon, might tour."

She's still in a funk, "Hmmm...wait, who?"

"David Coverdale, from Whitesnake and Jimmy Page from LedZep."

"Oh yeah, groovy, sorry, not with it today."

"So what do you listen to mostly?"

"Oh I'm an omnivore, but whatever fits the mood, sometimes I sleep with classical, but in the car I just flip around."

"But enough about the other night."

This gets a laugh while she looks away. "So when do I get my bra back?"

"Come and get it."

"I'll just take something of yours hostage, you know how this works."

"Want my undywears?"

"Shut up and take the next left."

"Oh...my brother is s’posed to be back this way for the weekend, so be warned."

"Well if he's nothing like you...wait, that could still be a bad thing."

"It's worse than very bad, run, just run."

"I supposed I have to bite the bullet at some point - listen to me, haven't even met the guy."

"Mom mentioned doing some cooking and hinted that would be a good time to have you over, if you can make it."

She just throws that expectant look, "Nick, you know I'll move heaven and earth to be there....I just love the way you get around to mentioning things. Your poor mother...if it happens to come up again then you better mention and hint that I'd love to get there early and help out. Can ya handle that?"

Nick just sighs and shuts up. Noreen waits for a straight stretch in the road and pecks him on the cheek and puts a hand on his shoulder. 

They arrive at the facility and find a spot, he parks, they just sit there. After another deep breath she looks up at him to signal and they pull up their hoods and head into the lobby then down the right-center of the four hallways that fan out. Staff float here and about as Nick meets eyes with many of the residents that look up, some smile, some stare blankly. It smells like a hospital.

She's not in her room, one of the staff says try the game room, so they do, and Noreen approaches a woman with short gray locks seated at a table staring out into the blender they'd been in and out of all day.

"Momma, hi," to get her attention.

She turns to face them and smiles, "Hi dear," then stands up and they hug.

"Mom this is Nick."

"Oh hi, good to meet you, call me Edna."

Nick takes both her hands, "I'll do just that, Edna, good to meet you."

"What brings you out today?"

Noreen jumps in, "It had been too long, Mom, I get too busy, I know, the boys are better about it -"

"Just glad to see a familiar face, the weather looks awful."

"It's much nicer in here for sure."

They all take seats and the gals catch up a bit, are they treating you well, Noreen is getting back in front of a classroom and Nick has been a great help, they both glance at him now and then.

As they kinda rattle on he pulls a checker board over his way and assembles the checkers to see if they're all there, and they are. Nick hadn't played in years, not since with a granddad, and he couldn't remember if they still had a set at his house.

After a few minutes a fellow in a wheelchair pulls up, "Hey wanna rack 'em up?"

"Sure, why not, you may have to remind me how," as he situates things and moves chairs.

"Nuthin to it. I'm Roger by the way," and reaches for a shake.

"Nick on this end, alright, what's yer pleasure?"

Roger takes reds and goes over the kings, which is the part Nick had long forgotten. Such a simple game, nothing to lose but pride, these old timers usually wipe up the floor with you it seems like.

They get going and Nick finally gets a king but can't do much, but it's all in fun, his opponent is a retired machinist with MS, body is not what it used to be but he's sharp as a tack.

Noreen glances over and prods her mom to do the same, they seem amused, good for them. At one point they go back to Edna's room for a few minutes, he and Rog keep resetting, Nick is behind 1-2 but who's counting.

They aren't gone long and take up positions to watch the action, as it were, Nick's remembering a few things, maybe he played this more than he'd thought over the years.

Rog kept egging him on, "Keep on mixin' em up son, you know the moves, there's a million ways ain't they?"

He gets the idea that Noreen is about ready to head out, so this will be the last, then somewhere in that thought,

"FUCKETTY FUCKATASH," at a piercing volume from the next table over, everyone looks to find a stout lady who'd just spilled some clear pop on the table and herself, and the staff are quick to pop in and calm her down, nothing hurt but pride.

Edna just grins, Roger has her back to the scene and is almost biting a lip, Nick has to turn to the window till he can get his composure back.

But speaking of hurt pride, final tally is 4-2 but they shake hands and pledge a rematch.

Nick gets a hug from Edna, she's happy with him tagging along and it's good that her girl has a nice friend.

On the rainy trip out to the car Nick can't get over it, "God, fucketty fuckatash, how have I never heard that before."

"Awww I'm tellin' you said a bad word."

He unlocks the passenger door, she gets in but pulls him in after, and they squeeze inside the closing door.

She looks him in the eye for a moment, "Nick you have no idea, I've been dreading this but somehow it was totally 180 degrees, I mean, she and I don't always have a lot to talk about, but this really worked, and you playing checkers was so adorable."

"Adorable getting my ass kicked."

"I'll make it up to you...wish I could right now actually, I could throw you down back there and eat you up right now."

He rolls the dice on this being a shut-up-and-kiss-moment, and that appears to be the right answer.

Since the windows are starting to fog up they decide to head out, before he starts the car, "take a look in the glove box."

She does and pulls out her bra, "you ASSHOLE!" Then lassos his head with it and pulls him close, two beat kiss.

"Won't that stretch it out?"

"Please, this is the only way I'll ever stretch a bra. Maybe I should have fertilized them."

He pinches her left one, "didn't we do that right here the other day?"

She retracts the makeshift harness, "Alright we're taking up valuable parking space, start this thing up, move, SCATTAMOOSH."

This leads way to the expected Wayne's World-ish bout of Queen improvisations, mamma sang bass, she takes the low parts and he the higher ones, as she snaps his right arm with the bra, then eventually it ends up on her head with the cups over the eyes. After that gets a laugh she puts it on rightly over her top.

"Keeping 'em warm are we?"

"Since your hands are busy..."

They banter on to the campus lot, decide they have no further business at the school, he has to work later, and then, Noreen admits,

"It turns out I had some ransom for my wayward undergarment all along," then pulls a cassette out of her purse and plops it into his deck.

The first track is bluesy, sung by a powerhouse female, love me baby, like my back ain't got no bone. Noreen just watches him for reaction, he chimes in, "Interesting."

"Recognize the voice?"

"Wow is it Bonnie Raitt?"

"You know it, from like 20 years ago, you were shittin' in diapers."

"This is hot."

"It took me a while to put it together on Bart's stereo, I hope you like it."

"Thanks babe."

They take their time saying goodbye and he watches her drive off as long as she's visible, takes in a couple more tracks, then heads home.

Delano

 March, 1987

This was always a weird month for who knows why. Maybe the weather changing every ten minutes, everyone's either sick or getting over sickness or coming down with sickness, spring is not yet her and winter is dead. On its back. Tits up. Dead.

Nick had lasted 4 days of varsity track, Coach is a great guy but runs his team as John Wayne's General Sherman. One of the student helpers had told him that Coach wanted to talk to him about why he'd stopped showing up but Nick can't find the time or the words and just ducks it out. He hadn't really connected with anyone on the team, not many freshmen went out, he's not a fast sprinter and doesn't have the poop for distance, so much for that.

Plus, there had been a revival series at church and it was convenient to duck for cover in the meetings. These always seem to attract the latest loose-ends to show up on the teen row, including one Tommy Delano. He's a tall, dark featured bloke, and done time in the joovie joint, evidently smooth with the ladies, sports a thick mullet, probably from a less advantaged background than most church folk yet has a way of transcending whatever he wears. For a couple of nights Delano sat on the other side of Miss Jenny Pratt and got most of her attention as Nick was just glad to lean back against the edge of the pew instead of running across some field in cloudy wind.

So a couple weeks later Nick signs out of the school cafeteria to hit the head, and is almost there when he turns around to find Delano about five feet behind and switching his expression from cunning to smile. At the urinals Delano brings up how he'd gotten with Jenny on some youth trip that Nick had been able to miss, sounded like second base was involved. Nick doesn't know what to say and gets squirreled by the tune in his head, from the VHS of Headbanger's Ball that his brother had scored, and asked Delano if he'd heard of them.

"Yeah I heard a couple of theirs, they're OK. You need to come over sometime we can jam, find some chicks."

"We'll see."

They go back to their respective tables, and in about a week Delano's mom moves them out of the Jameson district.

Drive In

Friday June 26, 1992

A summer night is a field of mysteries, in four dimensions, ageless and wide as the universe on a clear night. It goes on, it never stops, good things, bad things, invokes our instincts to move to shelter, take stock, secure our interests and draw near to someone.

But it’s still a hazy late afternoon when Nick pulls onto the property, just before the sign McDONNELL’S AUTO AND FABRICATION and he spots the cabin up off to the left, looks as well made as its contents, sturdy, blocks and lumber.

He’d brought a cooler and grabbed six bottles of 7Up since that’s what sounded good, pulls up in front of the cabin which looks like gets mowed with a wide deck along with the rest of the vast property. From what she’s described it goes back quite a ways into the woods. He’s got some butterflies for the usual reasons.

What certainly doesn’t help his nerves is when this blond steps out of the cabin, with a cooler and her purse, wearing a light button-up top, beige plaid skirt above the knees, tan strap-on shoes and those shades, it’s all a bit more voltage than he’s wired for. She gets into the car and he just takes it all in as she buckles up, looks his way, “Hi there.”

“Who you tryin’ to kill, lady?”

Noreen just looks away and acts exasperated, channeling Sally Field, “Does this thing move?”

He pulls her in slowly and she ends the kiss after two beats,

“Take a left out of the driveway, unless you just want to sit here all night.”

“I’ll go wherever you want."

This gets a smile, “Thanks though. I’m tempted to think you’re exaggerating to make me feel good but I’ll take it.”

They proceed on and get to the state route, she’s quiet but seems content, Nick can’t think of anything to say, except, “what do you think of this election?”

“I try not too. It could be worse...well, let me say this, I try not to talk about it with my family since I don’t see things like the guys do, and my sis-in-laws just stay out of it.”

“Oh, yeah, I don’t tend to talk about politics much. Things are pretty much gonna be what they are, I just dwell on technical things and vote best I know how.”

“That’s refreshing Nick. Since you asked...I’m getting fed up with those who need to be part of a wolf pack, you know, dig in to their views so hard that they either attack or retreat together, and just fight it out and nothing gets done. I suppose we have to have the parties but it just seems like no one wants to compromise.”

“Gridlock.”

“Yeah that’s a symptom of it. This Perot character would be a real kick in the nuts if he got in but I don’t see it happening.”

“Me neither. He’s biting a big hunk of Bush it looks like.”

She just giggles and tries to hide it.

“What?”

“Biting a big hunk of bush.”

“Oh my God I didn’t even catch that.”

She laughs it out some, “Sorry, feeling giddy...anyway...yeah you might say I’m an independent but I care about a lot of things that you’d call left of center, like education, health care and people things. You’ve got folks that are afraid of big government but they forget that it’s supposed to be OF the people, and that fear just takes over. I dunno, just frustrates me.”

“We’re all in this together, aren’t we.”

She grabs his right hand that’s dangling off the armrest, “yep.”

In a couple more turns they are at the drive-in and finding a spot, they agree way at the back. They oriented the screen facing north and so the setting sun is still on their side but not much of a threat.

“Wanna eat in here or out on the trunk? I brought a bankie.”

“Wow check out the boy scout, are you always this well prepared?”

“Just thought it might be nice.”

“Howbout the hood and we can people watch?”

So they set up camp on the ample warm white-ish hood, munch on the bologna and cheese and she brought a fresh bag of Lays and some watermelon slices.

“Wow, she was in my high school class,” Nick says while eyeing a gal heading up to the playground area with two toddlers, “She must have squeezed out twins.”

“Yeah I never understood how or why anyone would let that happen when you’re that young.”

“When we walked at graduation there were at least three or four waddling with a bump.”

“They must have forgotten to pick the seeds out of their watermelon.”

“Is that how that works? This is really good by the way.”

“I could live on this stuff in the summer, forgot to bring some salt.”

“Doesn’t need it.”

“Looks like they took down the speaker things now that everyone has FM capability.”

“I used to have one of those from a flea market but our old church was able to use it for choir monitors, at least for a while.”

“Those could be collectible someday.”

“Yeah didn’t think of that. So what’s the first flick?”

“Usually they do the most family-friendly first, looks like Beethoven with the big dowgie, then Sister Act with Whoopi, then the night owls get Cousin Vinny.”

“How late did you wanna stay?”

“I’m here as long as you are.”

Before long the previews start and Nick switches on the radio, but since they can hear it just fine from everyone else they just stay on the hood for now. There’s an ad for Pic mosquito strips, Nick wonders,

“Doesn’t seem like many mosquitoes this year.”

“No been pretty dry, we’ve been lucky out on the property even with all the trees.”

Beethoven gets going and they hold hands on the hood a while, then decide it’s cool enough to regroup on the front seat, that magical breeze has made its debut. They move the bench all the way back then Nick wads up the blanket to lean against on the driver’s side and she leans back on him. There’s still plenty of daylight left and the evening is fully charged. She takes her shoes off and sets her feet on the passenger door. Nick can’t keep his eyes on the screen, she has her feet crossed, and he can’t quite get a mental fix on what else is going on, except that her legs are smooth as glass, eventually he wonders if she had done anything special like waxing. He wonders what she thinks of his reaction to all this with what’s beneath her lower back, things are starting to come alive.

After a few more moments Noreen softly sighs and maneuvers her left hand to the affected area, and starts massaging. “I can see we’re going to have to deal with this sooner than I expected.”

“I didn’t mean to...”

She squeezes and he shuts up. She continues the same pattern for a bit then slides down to where the back of her head is able to keep massaging that. It’s becoming quite clear that she’s on a mission of sorts, with a knack for knowing just when to take a turn and keep him guessing.

“Keep watch,” she commands, then turns over and curls up on the seat. She doesn’t hesitate to undo the fly and dig out his eager friend. “It’s about time we met, don’t you think?” as she gently strokes.

Nick is still in suspended disbelief, in a way this feels like a setup but he’s not about to complain.

She takes him in her mouth, fully, with that hair splayed all around as it had when she was reviewing his lab report, just kneading, going somewhere but not in any hurry. She just keeps on and he tries to keep watch out at a new landscape of cars, people walking around, too far to see, and many with similar goings on to conceal. None of them matter. He’s got the right gal and she’s a bit too much but never in a wrong way. The St. Bernard bops around the screen and it all goes on. He has no idea what the plot is. We’ll get the tension out of the way then enjoy the other movies, but then, let’s not end it too soon.

The sky grows darker and the air a tad cooler, and at some point she finds a spot that makes him churn. “You got something for me?” She keeps on that spot and he knows it’s near, in a strange way he hopes she likes it but that seems silly, she always seems to, and this time it’s not making her sick, so-

The moment arrives and he jerks, she puts a hand on his chest as if to reassure, and once it’s done she plants a kiss on the end.

“Mmmm now I have part of you inside me.”

Nick feels paralyzed but she repacks his shorts and curls back up on his chest. This has never happened, a female so caring and understanding. He can tell she’s no expert at the technical aspects, but took her time and made the slow burn worth it. He thinks he dozes off for a few minutes and she just lays still.

Eventually he finds the movie winding up as one might expect and he starts thinking about what’s beneath that skirt.

“Wanna move to the back?”

“Nick what are you up to?”

He motions for her to help move the front seat forward, and she cautions, “just don’t bump the horn.”

They each look out for witnesses then crawl over the armrest. Nick grabs the blanket and repacks it on the same side then they lean on it and he just looks at her a few moments, they kiss, and he undoes her blouse. “Time for me to get to know these better.”

She helps with the bra and he finds them alert and ready. “Nick you might need to go easy, I tend to be pretty sensitive.”

So he finds the right balance, thankful for the admonishment, they’re so thick but he resists the urge to chew, plenty of room in between, she’s getting antsy, better explore further.

He slides down onto the floor and caresses her hips, kisses her knees, they taste as good as they always look, then starts up a thigh. “Nick you don’t have to.” He just keeps going, slowly, she seems unsure, he keeps going, he waits for her to pull back the Shroud of Mysteries, he keeps going, then slips his hands on her hips inside the Shroud, until he makes First Contact.

She’s definitely not wearing panties. He pauses and looks up at her in surprise, she smiles, “I had a feeling they would just get all messed up one way or another, hell they would have been drenched over an hour ago.”

Nick shrugs and starts licking again back at her inner thighs, then moving back in, around the lips, then he had a feeling where to head next, on the hood -

That was it, she jerks slightly and gasps, so he uses the same technique as upstairs, gentle, mix it up, then before she has to ask he explores within, first with the tongue, then with the fingers, lick the hood some more, find that spot in there.

This rhythm becomes hypnotic, it seems to be headed somewhere, and at what seems like an odd moment, she explodes.

It hits with a force he could not have been ready for, let alone the volume. In a split second he realizes he needs to reciprocate and take in as much as possible, so he swallows, then coughs-

“Oh baby you OK?”

“Yeah,” coughs some more, “just went down the wrong way.”

He gains his wits then leans in to continue, but she laughs, “Nick it’s OK, I finished, you finished me, the way that only you could.”

“Wow,” he says, then fishes under the passenger front seat and produces a hand towel.

She looks at it and at him, “Mister Boy Scout strikes again,” then grabs it and cleans up, then he does the same.

“How do you feel?”

“Better than you felt I bet, but it’s not a race, it’s just amazing, you know how to reach me.”

Then despite where he’d been she pulls him up for a kiss while lowering the Shroud.

After a few moments she speaks up. “OK, I really need to step outside for a minute.”

She crawls back over the front seat, slips out the driver door then squats out of view, and he can hear liquid hitting the ground.

As always, Nick can’t resist, “You really are wasting that out there.”

“Shut up and gimme that towel, Sport.”

So he does, and he exits after she climbs back in to do the same thing.

“Need the towel?”

“Nah I get three shakes remember?”

“Do you need any more shakes?”

“Not at the moment, no.”

“Good just checking.”

They reassemble as before in the front seat, in a haze of spent, and rejoin Sister Act already in progress. Noreen had said she was looking forward to the musical numbers and it’s cleverly done. Finally this gets to be very comfortable, almost too much so, for being in a car among mostly strangers in subdued lighting, but then, it’s an understood thing, a community of the moment, a when taking part in a musical group.

At some point Nick gets hankering for another pop and they share one. Not too long after that he thinks he smells a strange earthy aroma that he associates with that illegal plant that seems to show up here and there.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“God that stinks.”

“To be honest, I have partaken before, but usually just one or two hits to make the rest of the room seem more tolerable, if that makes sense.”

“I never have, it would probably make me cough up a lung.”

“Yeah it’s harsh, but look at it this way,  if folks feel relaxed enough here to blaze up then we’ve got little to worry about.”

“Good point.”

Despite his best efforts, Nick starts to think about her body again. He resists the urge to explore in her shirt some more, since there’s no way things will top what happened earlier, so he just holds off, sometimes the wanting can be good too. He’s not ready to do the deed, not yet, it’s somewhere off in the ether, but not here and not tonight. She has a wonderful flavor, everywhere he’s explored, almost too good to be true.

“I can feel that you know,” she pipes up.

“It’s your fault.”

She just lets it drop. It’s completely dark now and you can hear a few bugs mixed in with the sisters. Some cars have left but more have arrived, but none too close to the white Cordobeast back in the corner. Maybe it looks too pimp to mess with.

Once the film goes to credits she flips over again, “OK buster, got any more where that came from?”

“You’re welcome to find out.”

It’s darker and she’s bolder. She undoes her top and slips her bra completely off, then perches on one elbow and undoes his shorts completely this time. She takes out his stuff and massages, stroking, then whispers, “play with my tits.”

So he does, and they play together, sometimes it’s just good to play, even if it doesn’t result in anything, but eventually, it does, and she leans in and makes sure it gets rubbed in.

“If you’re trying to kill me I like your style.”

“No I need you around too much.”

“Glad to hear it.”

She finds the famous towel and cleans him up then buttons her shirt back up and returns to where she was on his chest. Sometime during the beginning of the last feature he makes his way beneath the Shroud, she doesn’t mind, but gets into it quickly, and so begins the next slow burn until she twitches and dozes off.

Nick never completely falls asleep during Vinny but is able to follow it for the most part, very witty dialog and they are going out of their way to juxtapose two cultures here. But his awareness of her presence never goes away, they are cemented with their vital fluids, this is as close to mated as he’s ever known and beyond imagination, strange, yet, just right.

Vinny winds up and goes into credits. Nick takes a deep breath but she doesn’t stir. Engines start up and she is still asleep.

“Sweetie?”

“Hmm?”

“Movie’s over.”

“No. We stay here.”

“How long till the cops show up?”

“You’re not helping.”

“Yeah I suck.”

“I’ll do the sucking around here if you don’t mind.”

“Did you hear any complaints?”

She pops up with a tired, wry smile and leans in for a peck. “Nick this has been the best.”

“Aren’t we celebrating something?”

“Yeah you got a job.”

“Oh I sure did.”

This earns a very dirty look, then she looks to the side, smiles, “Well I did too so there ya have it. Alright, if we must, but this is under protest.” She plants herself in the passenger seat and buckles up.

“It’s over too quickly.”

“Well we just have to look forward to next time.”

“To next time.”

He fires up the Cordobeast and they head into the star-filled universe.

Nick pulls into his driveway at half past two, and thankfully sees her bra in the back seat before it has a chance to attract attention. He falls asleep quickly with it beneath his pillow.

Marantz and Pioneer

Spring, 1984

Nick mans his spot in the living room in front of the entertainment stand at a time when no one needs to hog the TV or complain about the music.

For most folks an outdoor TV antenna is just that, a way to bring in signals when the bunny ears won't do it. Jameson sits about 50 miles from the nearest full-power TV station, with most a bit further than that.

So when the Swansons first settled into their Cape Cod, Ned went ahead and put in a 40 foot sectional tower and secured it to the side wall at the apex of the roof. Being familiar with the staff at the local electronics retailer he was able to get the longest Channel Master plus a downlead amplifier. With the rotor normally parked northward they could get the Springfield-ish market channels, or turning the other way it would bring in those from Terre Haute. Sometimes in the mornings they would get the big Chicago guns, or those drifting in from St. Loo or Indy.

At times Nick could make a day out of chasing signals, running it all over the map whenever no one else wanted to watch, and when the signals seemed to come from a particular direction. Sometimes he would get Louisville and those down down by Evansville. Sometimes he could get one from Lafayette, Indiana, and even South Bend, and sometimes up into Michigan. A few times Rockford drifted in, and the Quads, and the grand prize was a Channel 12 from Milwaukee.

At some point Ned spent a bonus on a decent Marantz receiver and Pioneer speakers. This brought a wide, selective FM tuner into the mix and opened up a whole new world with the regional drift of signals. With the antenna toward Chicago he could pick up some of the ones from Sears tower just about any time, and there were very few quiet spots. He had a notebook just for this. The first pages were things as he could ID them, then the latter were attempts to organize by city or area, which the industry would just term a DMA. Naturally Tim gives him shit for geeking out but then Tim doesn’t seem to have purpose in life so who cares.

Eventually he got a low-power stereo for his room and hooked it to the antenna. Sometimes he could just lie there and listen to B96 out of the big town, with just a bit of hiss in the background. This was the soundtrack for the confident, well dressed people who went to parties, those who lived in a fascinating world. As a bug to a flame, Nick could bask in the energy that an equally confident major market Top 40 FM gave off, they were in the middle of it all, whatever that really means, if any one really knows. His parents say that WLS was the big deal at one point but Nick can’t even imagine AM having this kind of impact, with out that crisp (albeit compressed) stereo sound.

Nick had a scale of classifying stations on the FM dial, at least those that played some kind of rock. There were the ones that seemed to appeal to a more adult type, what we'd call Adult Contemporary or Soft Rock would go in the notebook as Rock I. Then the Top 40 is Rock II, since they are more daring and sometimes whip out the hard stuff or with edgy lyrics.

At the top of the scale were a few of the Rock III that were almost purely the hard stuff. Once in a while one of those would hit his room like a storm, as if the sound could hurt you if you took in to much or played it too loud. Tim had gathered a few tapes so far of bands like Triumph and Helix, even Iron Maiden, but to Nick these were still a bit much and he'd still run out of the room when Tim would crank it just enough to get yelled at from downstairs.

That hard guitar stings like a bee with nothing to lose, and the lyrical freedom, some say she do...some say she don't...some say she will...and some say she won't...does that have to do with the stuff that older guys like to do if they can lure a female into the back of their van at night? The sound is a lot like Rick Springfield but harder, but not as heavy as Quiet Riot that everyone keeps talking about.

Late one night one of the Rock II stations whipped out a pretty hard one, chorus goes Rock You Like A Hurricane, had the fastest guitar playing he had ever heard. How is that humanly possible, is it a tape trick of sorts? (For the record, NO, not a tape trick!)

There were some good ones that got obscured from local stations, since all Jameson had was a powerful Country Lovin' on FM 94 but actually 93.9, and then the easy listening, Sounds Of The Good Life, Stereo 102. The latter was the only thing his mom approved of after the station "we" support, the Christian WJLT up in Colton, which part of the church-school where some of his classmates ended up over the years. Although, the public classical stations seemed acceptable too but no one was really interested.

Some of the guys at school would rave about what they could pick up on AM at night, Boston, Minneapolis, Toronto, New Orleans and even Spanish stations that had to be way south. Whenever Nick tried AM, even on the Marantz he would just get a buzz. It seems he would be able to mess around with his own radio upstairs and pull those in, but all he could hear was a buzz, even behind the local 1280. His dad didn't know what would cause it, but then one night, Nick was messing with an old transistor radio in the den and turned off a dimmer switch they used on a lamp, and voila, the skies opened up.

Signals would drift in, sometimes over top of each other, then one would take over, then they both fade into the distance. There's be the old-time jazzy music, with the brass going WHUH WHUH-WHUH...WHUH...WHUH...floating in and out of the ether without a care in the world.

Time for a new notebook.

All said, it's more about the journey than the destination, and to some, even when there's nothing on, the signal is a bigger deal than the content.