Worlds Apart (47 page)

My birthday was tomorrow, I was turning eighteen years old. I wondered if Delancey would remember. My father never remembered. Late that night, my home phone rang at just past midnight. I picked up immediately, sensing that it was Delancey.

“David,” she said, “I really did something to tick off my father. I changed my last name to Yuridis. But that’s not why I called. I have an idea. Can you meet me at City Hall tomorrow?” she asked. “Say about noon?”

“Why? What’s at City hall?” I asked.

“It is your birthday tomorrow right? I have a present for you.” I paused, and didn’t say anything. It was weird that her present was at City Hall.

“Do you or do you not wish to see me tomorrow?” she asked.

“I do.”

Chapter 23

The next day at school was a half day and hardly any seniors were in attendance. Most students had taken the day off to get ready for the prom. Carlos, John, and I made plans to pick up our tuxedos later that day. But first, the three of us headed over to City Hall.

City Hall was just over the Brooklyn Bridge. We decided to walk, soaking in a beautiful summer day. Halfway across, I took a deep breath, and remembered Wilson, who had committed suicide off this very bridge. A dove sat on the guard rail of the bridge. “Wilson, you poor fellow, I wish you well in the afterlife,” I said. John and Carlos shouted “Here, here.”

Delancey stood on the steps of City Hall, looking giddy, and wearing a fancy white dress. She was a sight to behold. She smiled and gave me a big kiss. She said hello to John and Carlos.

“So what’s going on?” I asked her.

“Oh, it’s a good plan, David, a little crazy, but a really good plan,” she giggled. “My father and I argued a lot yesterday. He enrolled me at Boston University without my knowledge. So I finally made good on my threat and changed my last name to Yuridis.”

“Bruce will be proud,” I said.

“But…last night I had the greatest idea!”

She took my hand, and led me inside. “I was here early, and filled out the paperwork.”

“Paperwork for what?” I asked, completely confused. John tapped me on the shoulder and pointed to the sign on the wall, and my heart jumped out of my chest. The sign read “Marriage Bureau.” I looked at it a second time, and it still read “Marriage Bureau.” I stood there speechless. We were both 18, and didn’t need parental approval.

“David. Will you marry me?” Delancey had a hopeful expression on her face. Everything stopped, and a deafening silence filled my ears. My heart pounded louder than ever before.

“Are you doing this to rebel against your father?” I asked.

“What if I am? Is it something that you don’t want?” she asked. “Will you marry me?”

“Only if you marry me first,” I said. John and Carlos were jumping up and down, as happy for me as I was for myself.

I signed the forms, and presented my I.D, and said I do. John and Carlos signed their name as witnesses. The entire event was surreal. A rush of adrenaline raced to my head. I felt like I was in dream. It was exhilarating. We were married at City Hall. I kissed her, and we walked out together, marriage license in her right hand. We wore two simple silver wedding bands that Delancey had brought with her. Carlos and John were laughing ecstatically, repeating that they could not believe we were just married.

“What now?” I asked, standing on the steps of City Hall.

“I don’t know. I guess we will have to talk about this some more later.”

We were dazed by what had just happened. I just married the girl of my dreams. Later that night was the prom. The next day was graduation. The day after, I would be recording an album. I made a decision and went full steam ahead. For this one instance, for this one moment in time, I was the happiest I had ever been in my entire life, and it is true even to this day.

A fancy black car pulled up. Before the driver could open the back door, Delancey’s father, in a well tailored suit, stormed his way up to City Hall with all his anger and fury on open exhibit. I stood frozen in my stance, watching a hurricane charging towards me. I had forgotten about my new father-in-law.

“Tell me you didn’t do something stupid today!” he shouted at Delancey. “Tell me that you didn’t change your last name!”

“You’re too late! I changed my last name twice. Yesterday it was changed to Yuridis while you were at work, and then today I married David, and changed it to Orpheus! And there is nothing that you can do about it. I love him!” Delancey yelled back to her father.

Mr. Kenmare stood directly in front of me, and grabbed her by the shoulders, his enormous fingers stopping the blood flow where they squeezed.

“You did WHAT!” he screamed. “Get it annulled now!” he demanded.

“I love him. I want to be married to him.”

“I will disown you and you will lose everything – your allowance, your inheritance, everything! No college, no money, and for what? For whom? Some random boy from high school? Some indigent skinny guitar player! Over my dead body!”

“No, Dad, over my dead body will I reverse this marriage! I’m old enough and I just want to live my own life, without you controlling everything.”

“Sir, I love Delancey…” I started to say, and before I could finish my sentence, he punched me in the face. I fell to the ground. I probably deserved it.

“I will crush you,” Mr. Kenmare bellowed, standing over me.

The police arrived and told us to disperse. Her father grabbed her arm, and pulled her into the car. “I’ll see you later, David, at the prom!” she yelled out to me.

Mr. Kenmare shouted, “Don’t get used to being Delancey’s husband.”

John and Carlos picked me up off the ground and dusted me off. I was shaken up by everything, especially the part where my new father-in-law landed me on the ground with a single punch. He hit harder than the Deceptors.

The three of us walked back over the Brooklyn Bridge. Carlos commented on what a great punch Mr. Kenmare had landed. John said it was the best he had ever seen. My face didn’t think it was so wonderful.

John had a flyer advertising a special price on corsages. The florist was a small shop on Atlantic Avenue. The three of us were experiencing a special kind of euphoria, the kind that kids near the completion of their high school senior year tend to have. My euphoria was even better, like nothing I had ever felt before, because I had just married the girl of my dreams and there was nothing her mean father could do about it.

We were laughing, talking about the prom, and about Delancey’s father. Carlos said that Thanksgiving was going to be a hoot for me with my new father-in-law. We were loose, and relaxed, and our guard was down.

“That ring on your finger makes you look all serious,” John remarked.

“You know, I guess it does,” I said, analyzing the ring.

“But what about your future together?” asked John.

“We will have to talk about it some more, but I have no regrets. No matter what happens, I’m ending high school by marrying the girl of my dreams.”

We paid for the corsages, and stepped outside the florist. Gathered outside were five familiar thugs. They were the Deceptors from Central Park, the ones we had confronted with our guns back in April. Carlos and I brought John up to speed.

We started heading for the subway, and two of the Deceptors stood in front of us blocking our path. They were wearing oversized coats and baggy pants. It was June, and unnecessary to wear a coat. Their leader shouted, “Well if it isn’t the Harvard boys!”

Deceptors used the extra room in baggy clothing to conceal weapons. Carlos did not have his backpack today, and that was both a good thing and a bad thing.

“Where’s your backpack, Carlos?” I asked, inquiring about the gun.

“I no longer carry it. I’ve turned a new leaf in my life,” he said.

“Good for you!” I said sarcastically. “Bad timing, but good for you.”

Carlos without a gun meant serious trouble for us.

“Let me guess, someone left their gun at home.” The five Deceptors laughed out loud.

We needed to make a run for it. Carlos said we had to stick together. “No man gets left behind.”

“Agreed,” I said.

“Leave no man behind,” John said.

We were surrounded by the Deceptors, and just hours away from the prom. They pulled out their guns. This was not going to be good.

The chief goon spoke up, “Are those corsages for me?” The others laughed. “I guess you fellas are going to the prom tonight. So here’s what I’m going to do for you…we’re gonna take your money, beat the crap out of you, and then you guys are free to go…OR we’re gonna shoot all three of you, and you guys are not free to go to the prom tonight.”

Carlos pulled us to the side and started to whisper.

“No problem, fellas; please take a minute to think it over,” said the leader, while the other four jackals guffawed. “It’s your life!” he shouted.

We could not fight these guys; they were bigger, stronger, hardened criminals, and had weapons. Our conversation took less than a second. We looked at each other, took a deep breath and ran for the subway as fast as we could.

John was the fastest of the three of us, and was outrunning the hoodlums without a problem. We ran across traffic on Atlantic Avenue, cutting across the honking and screeching cars and buses. I was right behind John, and Carlos was right behind me. They chased after us, as we turned toward the subway at full speed. A shot was fired, and I kept running, but looked back. Carlos was still running behind me. John made it to the subway steps and headed down the stairs. I was heading full speed down the steps, when I heard Carlos yell out. Three of the hoodlums had grabbed him. I ran back to help him. He was getting punched from all sides.

I pushed one of the hoodlums down the steps, and pulled Carlos away. Carlos entered the platform. The Deceptors were right behind us. I tried to make it over the turnstile, but I was too late.

They seized my legs, pulling me away from the turnstile. I fell to the floor, and the thugs grabbed onto my ankles, dragging me backwards. I was being kicked in the head, stomach and back. Sharp pains jetted in my midsection. They kept punching away; I kept kicking but to no avail. I struggled to get to my feet, but could not do it while getting stomped. The top of my body was halfway under the turnstile, and John and Carlos latched onto my arms and pulled me forward, leaving my sneakers in the hands of the thugs.

We ran across the platform, and jumped down onto the tracks. We quickly ran across to the opposite station. I could see the lights of a train approaching a few yards away. There was no time to stop and even less time to think. I made it to the other side of the station, just in my socks, climbed up onto the platform and quickly rose to my feet. We entered the train, ran to the front car, and made sure the hoodlums did not follow. John was unscathed. Carlos had a black eye and a fat lip.

They both stared at me. “How bad is it?” I asked.

“It’s not bad at all,” said Carlos.

“You look fine,” said John. They were both lying.

I could taste blood in my mouth, and noticed blood on my shirt. When the adrenaline wore off, my face started to throb. It felt swollen, and lumpy, as did parts of my back. I was in tremendous pain. My knees were scraped, and my left quadricep was stiff. Carlos and John took me home. I was having a hard time walking. I went to the bathroom, and could barely see the mirror. My right eye was swollen, puffy, and cut. I removed my shirt, and could see bruises all over my body. My lip was cut. Carlos and John said I needed stitches.

They took me by cab to the hospital. Nearly two hours passed in the emergency room before a doctor saw me. I filled out a fake name and information, knowing that I could not burden my father with medical bills. A nurse sewed my lower lip, and the cut above my eye. We left the hospital, and I swallowed a couple of painkillers.

All I could think about was the prom. Delancey was on my mind. How could she be seen with me in this condition? I still had to pick up Christine. I looked like I was on the losing side of a 12 round boxing match. I would just embarrass myself if I showed up looking like this. I seriously considered not going, but Carlos and John talked me out of that.

“You can’t let Delancey down. Or Christine. The prom is a big deal for girls. You get only one prom in your life,” said John. “Besides, you never looked that good to begin with.”

We still needed to pick up our tuxedos. The line at the tuxedo store was more than an hour long. We were very much behind schedule and would be late to the prom. Carlos and John kept yelling at the store clerk out of frustration.

By the time we left the store, we were running two hours late. The three of us got dressed at my place, and the cab service that John had arranged could wait no longer. He left. We did not have a ride. We had no choice but to try to call our dates and have them meet us at the prom. John was able to get a hold of Helen and explain the situation, and she agreed to meet us at the World Trade Center. I was unable to reach Christine.

We took the subway during rush hour. I still looked like a mess, but I was no longer bleeding. The painkillers from the hospital had kicked in, and I was feeling numb.