I suppose it was the phone call last night, or maybe it was yet another birthday of mine coming and going. Most likely though, it was a little of both. While I sat in my small study just off our living room reading a chapter or two of a new book that I had gotten as a birthday present, my wife was cleaning up things in the kitchen from the dinner and cake we had just had, my youngest daughter was having a lighthearted conversation with her favorite doll in the living room and my oldest daughter, thirteen (going on sixteen), was in the dining room finishing up her geometry homework – homework that I am less and less helpful with as the years go by. It was the kind of night that you always swore you would avoid somehow; routine, rote, quiet, almost scripted and well, average. “That’ll never be me…..I won’t let it happen……I will Not be predictable” were things I remember saying. What you didn’t realize, or at least I didn’t, about that dreaded boring stage of life is how enjoyable it can actually be. Of course we have fights, arguments and tension. Of course it’s not a staged sitcom setting every night with sugar sweet endings, but this was one of those nights that was balanced perfectly – comforting and very satisfying.
When the phone rang, I heard my oldest daughter slide her chair out almost simultaneous to the ring, announce she would get it and heard her bang her knee on the table getting up - all in the span of two seconds. The second ring was abruptly cut short. Now, from the dining room table to the phone in the kitchen is a distance of approximately 25 feet or so. She had obviously sprinted like an Olympian, possibly hurdling an object or two in perfect form no doubt, skidded to a stop and answered the phone in record setting fashion. After a whispered conversation with my wife which I couldn’t quite pick up, she bolted the other way, back through the kitchen, dining room, living room (where my youngest daughter was still happily chatting away) and up the stairs to the private confines of her room. From where I sat I was able to see some of the action, but mostly just blurred and almost frantic motion. What struck me most though was the excitement, the vibrancy and sheer exuberance for life that is so special to the young. A young teenage girl in this instance, reacting to a phone call, a call that was obviously not one of the countless ones from her girlfriends. No, I was sure that this was the boy she had met at school last week. A kid that had transferred to her school from another middle school in town. My wife looking around the kitchen corner and meeting my gaze with a small knowing smile was the only confirmation I needed. I tried to go back to reading the book, but I ended up going back and reading another story to myself, a story that had nothing to do with the fictional book I was holding.
Friday night football games was where it was at. That was the deal man, that’s just what we did, where we went. The rural High School that I went to was a downstate powerhouse in football. Basketball we were just good at and Wrestling - my sport, we were better than average - maybe even very good, but football we were an absolute juggernaut. That night, we were playing a nearby town that we were expected to crush and we were doing exactly that. I was with some buddies hanging on the chain link fence that encircled the field.
It was late September, a clear night sky with a moon that was almost full. Chilly, brisk and air so crisp you felt like you could snap it in two. We were all Juniors, and we all had our maroon and gold letter jackets on. Some of us had already won varsity wrestling letters as sophomores and were proudly wearing them. We were casually watching a group of girls coming around the chain-link fence from the other side of the field and we saw they had on the colors of the other team. As they walked by, we dutifully watched them go by but then looked back at the game, effectively ignoring them and they continued for about 30 feet or so then stopped. All huddled up, talking, glancing over their shoulders at us, back to talking and glancing back again. A ritual that was almost a stage play of sorts, somewhat new to us the last few years, but one as old and practiced as time itself. Now, the rules of engagement between boys and girls have definitely changed these days, as well as attitudes and role playing, but at that time it was generally accepted that the boys were the aggressors so to speak. Yes, we acted bored as hell and pretended to be ignoring them, but sooner or later the ball was in our court. They knew it and we knew it.
As we exchanged smiles, glancing sideways at each other and talking quietly so they couldn’t hear us, we heard them start laughing behind us. Hey, giggling was one thing, but laughter, that made us turn. It was a lazy turn, but we turned. I found myself staring at the cutest girl I had ever seen - would ever see – and she was standing directly in front of me only a couple feet away. “Ohhhh, a big Central man, huh?” she smiled at me with a look of all the sweetness in the world, but with a tone of pure mocking. I was so struck by her looks that it didn’t matter if she was kidding or not. Didn’t matter if she really thought I was a jerk or what. What mattered was the school color ribbons she had in her long straight brown hair. What mattered was how her eyes sparkled as she looked up at me, all flirty and condescending at the same time. What mattered was the way she smelled – just clean and fresh, is the best description I could ever come up with then and now. What mattered were the sweater, jeans and the windbreaker she was wearing.
The expression I had must have been hilarious because she laughed quickly and said, “So big Central man, what’s your name?” The guys I was with and the girls she was with for that matter, couldn’t believe what was going on. They had been watching this little scene like an audience sitting on the edge of their seats. Luckily, my buddies decided to regroup and rethink the situation several feet away, shuffling around and murmuring like a crowd listening to someone speak that they’re not so sure about.
If there was ever the classic example of a boy being awed, dumb struck and bumbling his way through an introduction, it was me that night. We continued talking and she even ended up taking me over to the other side of the field, introducing me to more of her friends. Me, like a puppy happily trotting along and her much more easy going, free spirited and just cute as hell. She had been pretending supreme confidence and would tell me later that she doesn’t know what made her come up to me like that. After the game, I asked her in broken English if she would like to go get something to eat at Burger Chef, the local hangout (No, not Burger King and no, not McDonalds – they had not arrived in the scene yet). The night was truly like a dream, I bought her a strawberry shake and I think I had a Coke. I was so nervous, if I would have had my normal cheeseburger I would have lost it. When I drove her home, with her girlfriends following behind us, it was a bit of a haul. She was not only from the other town but she was a country girl, a farm girl whose farm was out there aways. Not from some exclusive estates located outside of town either, a corn and beans farm girl and from what she told me, more brothers and sisters than I could count.
We talked for a minute in front of that old farmhouse, her eyes still sparkling, her hair still smelling so good, and her smile so intoxicating. She was so full of life. It had gotten chillier and she was all shaky so I told her she better get inside. I said goodbye and she turned around to join her friends who were up on the porch waiting for her, all smiley and anticipating every detail. She ran, ran, to the porch and did those quick little steps that girls can do, up to the top. Almost too late, I yelled to her, “Can I call you?” She said yes and I yelled a silent YES! to myself. I will never have a night where I felt so alive, so edgy and so in tune with everything. Every sight, sound, smell and emotion was electric and charged. There was nothing I could think of except her, there was nothing wrong in the world and there was nothing I couldn’t do.
We would ‘go together’ for the most of the next two years. We of course broke up and would end up not seeing each other anymore after high school. There would be other guys for her and other girls for me but that wouldn’t change that night, that absolute top of the world feeling. My daughter has many things yet to experience in life, some bad and some good. Last night, when she answered that phone it reminded me of how good, the good parts can be. How special things are when they’re happening to you for the first time. She will have memories of joy, sorrow, marriage and children that will top all other emotions in their own way. Then one day or night she’ll watch her own young son or daughter rush to the phone or the door someday - just as I did last night and she’ll remember her own stories then, of something so simple but so special.
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