Blind Squirrels (15 page)

Second semester also meant moving
into Driver’s Ed and leaving World History behind.  I would now answer to three
teachers instead of one, and I would have no time for note writing.  Coach
Maharis would be our classroom instructor.  He would show us gruesome movies
and make us memorize the
Driver’s Handbook
.  A jovial sort, Maharis
didn’t fit in with the other coaches in Driver’s Ed.  He was younger than the
others, and he didn’t mind joking around from time to time.  Coach Oliver would
instruct us on the driving range.  A strict taskmaster, you’d get no breaks or
compliments from him.  He spent most of his time yelling at us over an
intercom, and no one was immune from his criticism.  Coach Kravitz took us on
the road for practice.  He wasn’t as stern as Coach Oliver, but he was no piece
of cake either.  He was good at recognizing mistakes, but he didn’t yell the
way Coach Oliver did.

The coaches split the class into
two groups.  Each group would spend two week intervals either in the classroom
or on the range.  Coach Kravitz would select students from the range group to
go on the road.  I would be in the classroom with Coach Maharis for the first
two weeks.

Coach seated us alphabetically,
but I didn’t know anyone that was sitting around me.  Actually, I didn’t know
anyone in my group at all.  I soon met Mona Jones who was sitting in front of
me.  Mona was about my height, but she was boney.  She had long dishwater blond
hair and big blue eyes.  She was very friendly, and she loved to talk.  We
became friends the very first day of class.  She introduced me to her cousin
Bill who was also in the class.  Bill was tall and lanky.  He had the same
color hair as Mona, but his eyes were a duller shade of blue.  He liked to talk
almost as much as Mona, so I did a lot of listening when they were both around.

There were also some changes on
the bus.  A new family had moved in next door to Aurelia, and there were
several children.  Three of them started riding our bus.  Stella was the
youngest of the three.  She was a freshman, and she was extremely shy.  She had
long curly brown hair and she wore thick glasses over her blue eyes.  She
seemed nice, but she rarely spoke to anyone other than her brothers, Wayne and
Roger.  The boys were twins and they were juniors.  Wayne was very friendly and
witty.  I liked him immediately.  He wasn’t handsome at all with his uneven
blue eyes, crooked nose, and dull brownish-gray hair that had a cowlick in
front.  But he was a charmer.  Kind-hearted and sincere, Wayne always made me
laugh.  Roger was more arrogant and less pleasant.  Although they were twins,
Roger didn’t look much like Wayne.  Roger had the same washed out hair color as
Wayne, but Roger had an extremely handsome face.  While Wayne was gangly and
somewhat scrawny, Roger was much shorter and compactly built.  I didn’t much
care for Roger and he didn’t seem to like me either, but it was clear that
Roger loved his brother and sister very much.  With the addition of these new
faces, the bus began to be interesting again, and I quit dreading the trips I
had to make on it.

At the beginning of February,
Rick came back from his sea cruise.  Rebecca and Birdie had long ago moved back
in with us, but now the true end was in sight.  Rick had to be in Norfolk,
Virginia before March, and he planned to take his family with him.  They left
during the last week of February.  On April1
^st
, their new little
baby, Carl, was born in Norfolk.  You can’t imagine how happy we all were that
it didn’t happen in Foster’s Bank.

The school year was accelerating
rapidly.  My grades were better than average, and, when it came time for
registration, I tried to select classes that might peak my interest.  I had
determined that I wouldn’t take another year of French, and I chose to take Physics
and Algebra II, although neither were requirements.  As my interest in writing
continued to intensify, I also registered for Journalism.  American History was
a requirement, along with English.  For my final elective, I chose Accounting
because it involved math.  All of my friends laughed at my selections, but I
knew what my interests were.

After Easter and Spring Break,
the approach of another Bons Copains party – this time at Max’s house –mollified
me in the long weeks before school’s end.  Sam and a number of other members
were not planning to go for one reason or another, but Sunny and I were going
to be there – even if we were the only guests.  I could hardly contain my
excitement, and I intended to have a good time.  I even swore that I wouldn’t
drink any beer so I would be able to remember every detail.

In the time since Christmas
vacation, I had been learning to control my desires for Max.  I talked of him
less frequently, and even some of my closer friends began to believe that I was
over him.   At times, I think Max believed it, too.  On occasion, he fully
tried to get my attention, but I would pretend to ignore him.  Only Olivia and Aurelia
knew that I still loved Max, and they could keep my secret.

On the night of the party, I put
on my favorite Elton John T-shirt and a pair of Levi’s.  Sunny called to say
she would meet me outside Max’s at seven.  I applied my makeup while I listened
to “Crocodile Rock,” and I started feeling melancholy.  Part of me knew that
tonight was my last chance.  Max would soon be graduating, and I might never
see him again.  Imagine how that would ruin my plans!

As I left for Max’s house, the
sun was still glowing, but the moon was already visible.  I scanned the sky for
a star – I desperately needed a wish come true – but there were none in sight. 
Entering Max’s yard, I steeled myself – I couldn’t afford to let nerves ruin
the biggest night of my life.  Sunny was waiting in the yard, and we entered
the house together.

Ten people – including Sunny and
me – came to the party.  I didn’t know all of our newest members, and I
wondered if all the people present were really part of Bons Copains.  Matt
Bruin and his girlfriend Linda Spivey were making out in one corner, Phil Avis
and Kevin Cone were discussing sports over their beers in the kitchen, and
Cherry Trinity and Bev Corley were gossiping in the living room.  Two people –
a boy and a girl – I didn’t recognize were looking through albums on the
floor.  Max was setting up a card table for the snacks and drinks.  Sunny and
I, the last to arrive, helped Max get his refreshment area set up.

Max offered us beers, but Sunny
and I took Hawaiian Punch instead.  Everyone moved into the living room, and
Max put on some music.  Some people started dancing while the rest of us just
sat around talking.  Sunny and I sat on the floor across the room from Max and
the stereo.  If Sunny hadn’t been there, the night might have been boring, but
her incessant talking gave me something to do. 

At around nine o’clock, someone
turned out all the lights in the house.  Sunny and I watched as everyone paired
up and began dancing.  The only ones not dancing were Sunny, Max, and me.  A
little later, Max put on a different album and then he pulled his chair closer
to our side of the room.  The album was Elton John’s “Don’t Shoot Me, I’m Only
the Piano Player”; the first song was “Daniel,” my favorite.  Sunny leaned over
and elbowed me.

“KK, Max is staring at you.”

I glanced over at Max, but I
couldn’t tell where his eyes were.  “Why would he be staring at me?”

“I don’t know.  Maybe he’s going
to ask you to dance.”

The songs kept playing.  “Teacher
I Need You,” “Elderberry Wine,” and “Blues for Baby and Me.”

I felt Sunny’s elbow again. 
“He’s staring again.  Look at him.  I think he likes you.”

Maybe I had had too many
disappointments, or maybe I was being a realist for once in my life.  Whatever
the reason, I refused to believe that Max was watching me.  “I don’t think so.”

At ten thirty, the album ended,
and Max got up to turn it over.  Matt and Linda walked over to him.

“Great party, Bro,” Matt said,
“but I gotta get Linda home.  See ya!”

Cherry, Bev, Kevin, and the guy I
didn’t know decided to leave as well.  The party was down to four plus Max.

As side two of the album played,
Sunny kept reminding me that Max was watching.  I kept ignoring her. 
“Crocodile Rock” ended, and I knew there was only one song left on the album,
“High Flying Bird.”  Max sat on the floor almost right in front of me.  Even
with my lousy night vision, I could now see that Max was staring at me.  Not
only that, but he was singing.  He was singing a love song while looking
straight at me!  I became flabbergasted and confused.  I couldn’t move or
speak. 

Not so Sunny.  I was certain that
Max and everyone else heard her, and her elbow was creating a permanent
indentation in my right arm as she pounded it relentlessly.  “KK, he’s singing
to you!  Can you believe it?  He’s actually singing that song to you!  Look,
look!”

“Shut up,” I said – vehemently
but quietly.

He never took his eyes off me
until the end of the song.  After that, he quickly stood up and changed the
album to the Rolling Stones “Sticky Fingers.”

I couldn’t breathe.  I suddenly
knew I had to leave.  I didn’t know why Max was singing to me, but I was afraid
that it was some kind of joke.

“Sunny, I have to go.  I’m
supposed to be home by eleven.” 

Sunny stood up with me.  “Is it
that late?  My mom is probably here.”

Sure enough, her mother pulled
into the yard right at that moment.  Max came over to tell her goodbye.

“I enjoyed it, Max.  Thanks.” 
Then she looked at me, “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

Sunny bounded out the door and
into her mom’s car.  I stood in the entrance watching them drive away.  I
suddenly realized that Max was beside me.

“You don’t have to leave, do
you?” he asked.

“Is it eleven yet?” I countered.

Using only the moonlight, he
looked at his watch.  “It’s about five till,” he said.

He was standing close; I could
feel his arm brushing against mine.  For the longest time, we stood there alone
in the doorway without speaking.  I finally turned and looked up into his
face.  I wasn’t sure what I saw there.

“I guess I should go,” I broke
the silence, and – it seemed – the spell.

I opened the door to go outside. 
He followed me into the yard.

“Will you be okay?  I can walk
with you if you like,” then suddenly, the desire left his voice – either he
remembered that he had guests or that this was Kat, I’m not sure which.  “Oh,
um...people...inside.  I mean...I’ll still walk with you if you want me to.”

At least he’d been mine for one
moment.  “That’s okay, Max.  I’ll be fine; I’m not afraid.  I’ll see you later
– at school.”

I turned away, and he said
nothing more.  I looked back a couple of times and he was still standing there,
watching me walk away.  I wondered if he was regretting anything, but I’d never
know.  Tears filled my eyes.  By the time I got home, I was bawling.  Lucky for
me, my parents were out for the evening.

Safe in my bed, I dreamed of my
future with Max.  Then I fell asleep.

Chapter 11

 “You never told me about that
before,” Olivia said.  “Are you sure that’s the way it happened?”

“Olivia, you never joined Bons
Copains in the tenth grade.  I guess we were juniors when you got that crush on
Pete.”

“Changing the subject?  You used
to never change it when we were talking about Max.  That was your favorite
topic.”

“I’m a little bit older now. 
Besides, we’re talking about you and Pete.”

“It was eleventh grade.  I’m sure
of it.  We were old enough to drive, remember?”

“How many times a day did we
cruise by Pete’s house?”  I raised my right eyebrow.

“Pete is in the past; let’s leave
him there,” Olivia said.  “Any way, is there anything else you haven’t told me
about Max?”

“The story ends right about
there.  Of course there was that meeting when we elected officials for the next
year.”

“That’s when you became head of
the Membership Committee.”

“I wasn’t the head of the
committee.  I was just a member.  No one paid me any attention.”

“That’s not true.  You were
pretty popular in that club – whether you believe it or not.  At least you had
a lot of friends.”

“They weren’t really my friends. 
Just acquaintances.  But that’s okay.  It was a long time ago.”  I could still
feel some of the anguish nonetheless.

“I remember you got Max to sign
your yearbook without any problem that year.  He wrote more than in ninth
grade, too.  Do you think he ever really liked you, Kat?  Don’t you think that
he might have been making fun of you?  I’m not trying to hurt you; I just don’t
want you to romanticize things that happened a long time ago and get yourself
into a depression.  He’s not worth it.  Not then and certainly not now.”

“You know, Olivia, I’ve asked
myself that question a thousand times.  And I’m not any closer to answering it
than I was twenty years ago.  I have to believe that one day I’ll be able to
let the whole thing go.”