Freeway of Love

Tags

Freeway of Love – Aretha Franklin

Freeway of Love was release on 6/5/85 by Arista Records. Written by Michael Walden and Jeffrey Cohen.

Filmed in all black and white at the Club Tattoo, in Detroit, Michigan and directed by Brian Grant. The video features Clarence Clemmons on Saxophone, (on loan from E Street Band – Bruce Springsteen).

Background singers included: Sylvester (You Make me Feel Mightly Real,) Martha West (It’s Raining Men,) and Jeanie Tracy (The Power, Cha Cha Heels.)

The song was on Billboard’s Hot 100, it was Franklin’s highest chart single in 12 years and won her her 12th Grammy Award for Best Female R & B Vocal performance.

Michael Walden performs with Jeff Beck, 2011 at the Isle of Wight concert.

Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band – Pink Cadillac 1985

Members of the band: Steven Van Zandt, Nils Lofgren, Patti Scialfa, Danny Federici, Gary Tallent, Max Weinberg and Soozie Tyrell.

Devine Tragedy – Conclusion

Tags

, , , ,

The next day was Friday. Winter prom was one week away. Chloe approached her friend Becca.

“Becca, what do you say if we went ahead and went to the prom?”

“We don’t have dates,” Becca’s replied blankly.

“Yeah, well neither do a lot of the girls. Why don’t we bunch up and all go, together? It might be fun.”

“Well,” Becca wrinkled her brow in thought. “You know, why should the Jennifers in the world have all the fun? Let’s do it!”

Becca was the official social networker of their group. Chloe let her work her magic. Soon, there was a group of about ten loser girls with no dates who were willing to go stag. Becca was bubbling. Chloe could relax and focus on getting a dress and having her hair done. Her mother was surprised but not against the idea and started calling around hair shops.

“And,” said Chloe archly to Becca, “we’ll just go to that damn, dumb party at Jennifer’s house and say the Hell with all of them!”

“You’re brave, Chloe. I don’t know …”

“Don’t be a weenie, Becca. If we do it, we do it all the way.”

“Okay,” Becca replied, reluctance in her voice.

The big day arrived. Chloe had borrowed a cute satin cocktail dress from a friend. It was a jade green color, almost emerald and went well with her skin tone. She and mom had gone shopping for heels. She got a pair of killer black patent leathers with gold bands. Her hair was done up and the stylist managed to get every single curl in place. Mom arranged some little rhinestone pins throughout the do. Chloe looked at herself in the mirror. The stones twinkled back at her. Wow! She was looking good!

Her mom was crying, her dad was taking pictures; her little brother was lurking around the corners when Becca’s dad drove up and honked. Girls were piled in the SUV, giggling and laughing hysterically the whole way.

They had gotten permission to go to the after party as long as they were home by midnight. Two girls had their own cars and followed them.

The prom was set up in the school gym. The place had been transformed into a fairyland with lights, fake snow. Big, huge silver snowflakes hung on the curtains. Little round café tables were around the edges and candles flickered in the middle. Bowls of potpourri lent a scent of apples and pumpkin to the air.

“Do you see him?” Becca whispered.

“Who?”

“Oh, come on, Chloe. Oh, look, I think they are over there.” Becca held her finger low and pointed across the room.

Indeed, a stiff and uncomfortable looking Greg was sitting in a tux with both hands holding his knees. He looked a lot like he wanted to be somewhere else. Jennifer was in a froth of pink tulle with silver stars everywhere and was gabbing busily with friends clustered in tables around her. Kiki was close by in a low cut, tight fitting deep purple gown. Her hair was sparkling with gold shimmer, and she looked bored. Chloe watched her bend over and speak to a young man at her table. The two got up as one and disappeared.

“Oh, forget them, Chlo, let’s dance!” Becca and the girls commandeered some tables and were soon out on the dance floor giving it everything they’d got. Curiously enough, some of the guys from their class started to show up and several of the girls were then dancing with guys and not just girlfriends.

Winded, Chloe grabbed some punch and sat down to breathe. The disc jockey was playing a slow song. Unchained Melody, an oldie.

“Dance, Chloe?” she heard a masculine voice in her ear. She turned and it was Greg.

“Where’s Jenn?” she asked, incredulous.

“Oh, she went outside with some of her friends. Thought I would take a chance.” He smiled down at her.

Her stomach clutching, Chloe got up and he led her to the floor. She put her arms up, he took them, and they started a slow waltz.

“Reminds me of dance class, a long time ago,” he said.

“Yes, a long time ago.” Eventually, Chloe got closer and almost leaned her head against Greg’s shoulder. We feel so right together, the thought passed through her mind.

The music ended, Greg gave her the slightest bow and went back to his table. Chloe sank into her chair and stared at the dancers on the floor. Finally, a faint smile crept onto her face.

Becca came back and sat. “Wow, you look happy.”

“I am,” replied Chloe, “and we are definitely going to that after-party.”

“If you say so, chief.” Becca fanned herself.

At about eleven o’clock, Becca made the call, her dad appeared in front of the gym fifteen minutes later, and they piled in.

“Where are the other girls?” he asked.

“Oh, some got other rides, some went home. You know,” Becca tossed out casually.

“Okay,” her dad replied. “What’s the address?” Becca pulled the address out of her purse and her dad programmed it into his GPS pad. “Ah, the posh side of town.”

Becca shrugged, “I guess.”

Chloe had met Mr. Thompson any number of times. A short, buff but nice guy, he had a low forehead, dark eyes, black eyebrows that nearly met in the front and thick, dark hair cut almost into a burr. She had to admit to herself, although she didn’t want to, how much Becca resembled her dad.

Following the dulcet tones of the GPS voice, they arrived in the north side of town not long after. The SUV glided to a stop in front of a large, two-story house with immaculate lawn and flowerbeds; lights blazing from every window.

“What do her parents do again?” Mr. Thompson asked craning his neck toward the home.

“Oh, ah, I think her mom sells real-estate and her dad works at a bank downtown,” Becca chirped.

A white coupe with a black rag top was parked in the drive. The license plate read ‘Klassy.’ A  Cadillac SUV was parked next to it.

“Hmm,” was his reply “must be doing darn well.” He leaned back over the seat, “Give me a call when you’re done Becca, and don’t be concerned about the time, ‘kay?”

“Look there’s her mom now,” Chloe added. A blonde woman with a dazzling smile, much like her daughter’s, was standing in the front doorway waving.

“See, Dad, told you her parents would be home.”

“Okay, then.” Her father seemed placated. “You two git.”

The two girls emerged from the vehicle and walked up the broad driveway to the door.

Jennifer’s mom was a trim 40+ something with beautiful hair, teeth and ensemble. “You’re some of Jennifer’s friends. Come in, come in!” She welcomed and waved again at Mr. Thompson. He waved back and the SUV glided off. The two went into the brightly lit room and saw a number of adults standing around having drinks. Chloe was thrown for a minute.

“Alright, girls. We are having our little soiree up here, but the kid’s party is downstairs in the basement.” She walked toward some stairs and pointed down with a big smile.

Chloe and Becca both smiled uncertainly and moved down the stairs toward the very loud music. When they got there, they were greeted with banging music, a flashing music ball hanging from the ceiling and a ton of teens. Some, Chloe knew and some she had never met before. They walked around a bit and headed for the food table.

Chloe picked up a small paper plate and was putting little sandwiches on it when she heard “Chloe, Becca! You made it!”

Next thing she knew, Jennifer was spinning her around and gave her a big hug. Chloe held the plate up hoping to not spill anything, her other hand clutching her small bag.

“So, good of you to come!” Jennifer was effusive and her eyes wide and bright. “I have to get you something to drink. Would you like punch?” She had to yell over the music.

“Sure, sure,” Chloe replied, “punch, great.”

“Okay, then. Wait here.”

Becca followed Jenn’s movements a moment and then looked at Chloe.

“Is she …?”

“High?” Chloe replied, “Totally.”

“Geese, I wondered what those guys were doing leaving the prom and going out the back door,” Becca stated.

“Well, so now we know, huh. We can just stay a little while, Becca. I didn’t think it was going to be like this, so loud and so …”

“Yeah, so everything,” her friend replied.

Jennifer returned bearing two red cold cups brimming with liquid. She handed them over. “Drink up! I got to go and find that Greg again. He keeps disappearing.” She flashed another fabulous smile and wove her way through the throng of dancing bodies.

Becca took a sip of her drink and almost spit it out. “What the hell?”

Chloe tasted hers. “Ah, this tropical punch has a real punch. Wow! What did they put in this stuff?”

“Do you think her parents know?” Becca asked and sipped some more punch.

“How could they not, they’re right upstairs?” Chloe answered looking around for something else to drink. There didn’t appear to be cokes out that she could see.

“Let’s just eat something, make the rounds and call your dad.”

“Okay,” Becca replied. “I hate to have him drive all the way back when he just dropped us off.”

“He told you not to worry about it.”

Becca sighed and popped a small sandwich in her mouth.

They made the rounds, both sipping the punch and noshing. It was after the second turn around that Chloe realized with a pang of discomfort that she didn’t know most of these people. They were teens but some seemed a lot older and almost all of them were either very high, very drunk or both. They passed Kiki in one corner, busy snogging another individual. Chloe couldn’t tell if it was a male or female.

Greg was nowhere to be seen. Chloe was about to tell Becca to call her dad when there was some shouting and a bunch of people started to run up the stairs. “He’s going to jump!” she heard.

Curiosity got the better of her and she followed the crowd up. A bunch of people were clustered at a side window, looking up. There was an outside patio above their heads, on the second floor. Jenn’s home was close to that of their next-door neighbor. Chloe saw to her horror, the neighbor had a pool and apparently, one of the young men from the party was on the patio and was going to dive into the neighbor’s pool. There was a momentary hush, then, a figure flew past. There was a loud Splash! Everyone cheered. Luckily, the kid landed in the pool. Almost immediately, the back door light at the neighbor’s house came on and Chloe could hear a man come out and scream at the kid in the pool. The wife came out in her slippers, a hand-held phone to her ear, talking.

Chloe and Becca pulled away from the window. They were both laughing and saying, “Can you believe it?” Becca was trying to call her dad but between the noise and the being jostled by others, she was having a difficult time.

Suddenly, there were loud sirens coming right down the street toward them.

I wonder if they are going to arrest that guy? Chloe thought to herself.

There was some loud banging on the front door; Jenn’s mother answered it to what looked like a phalanx of cops.

Very much to Chloe’s surprise, she got arrested for being an underage minor consuming alcohol. Also, a number of other people at the party got arrested to include Becca, Greg, Jennifer and Jennifer’s parents.

Two hours later, they were sitting in the hallway at the police station. They had had to give breath-a-lizer samples to the cops.

It was a grim-faced Mr. and Mrs. Thompson who both came to pick-up a sobbing Becca. “I didn’t know, Dad,” she kept saying over and over, as they led her out the door.

Chloe called her parents, and they were on their way to pick her up. Greg eased down into the plastic chair next to hers.

“Some mess, huh?” he asked without looking at her.

“I’ll say,” Chloe, replied, she was still clutching the little pearl evening bag.  “By the way, where were you that whole time that guy was jumping into the pool?” She turned and looked at him. She had picked up a water at the front desk. She played with the cap, opening it an closing it nervously.

“I was on the balcony trying to talk him out of jumping. I kept telling him he could fall short and kill himself. But no, he’s on the school dive team. Said he knew he could make it.”

“Well, he did,” she answered.

“Yeah, he did and now he’ll probably be off the team after a stunt like this.” He leaned forward, resting his big arms on his knees.

“And you?” she asked.

“Well for starters, my dad already told me when I called him, to kiss the car goodbye.”

“Oh, wow,” Chloe stared at him.

“That’s for starters; then this arrest could cost me the water polo scholarship I was almost sure to get. My dad may have to have one of the attorneys at the firm bail me out of this thing.” He stared morosely at the floor.

“Oh, sorry.” Chloe also stared down at the floor. There was a pause. “Greg, did you know there was going to be alcohol at the party?” She glanced over at him.

“Oh, sure. Jenn’s parents have these kinds of parties all the time. Their philosophy is they want their kids drinking at home and not off somewhere else. Why do you think the cops showed up so fast? That neighbor of theirs has just about had it with them and had complained before.”

“Oh, well. That explains a lot of things, I guess.” Chloe leaned her arms against her legs too. They were both quiet for a time.

“And you know the crazy thing?” Greg turned and looked at Chloe.

“What?”

“I don’t even like Jenn that much. She is all about Jenn and her friends, all the time. I doubt she even knows who I am.”

“So, why go out with her?”

“Well, she is cute …” he said carefully, glancing at Chloe, “popular.”

“Hmm.” More silence.

“And her parents do have a killer house.”

“Ah.”

“But, clearly,” he stretched his long arms up and out, “that isn’t everything.” He waved around the station and let out a short laugh. He leaned one hand on the back of her chair.

She nodded still looking at the floor.

“Chloe, I know this is an odd time and maybe the wrong time, but …”

“Yes?” She lifted her head and turned to look at him.

“Would you like to go to a movie or something, coffee?”

Chloe smiled at him. “I really think, Greg Dudenhoeffer, that a movie with the likes of you is going to be a definite No in my household for a while. But coffee? That’s probably doable. She smiled again, and this time she really smiled. He smiled back.

“So, coffee?”

“Starbucks.”

“What day?”

“Wednesday is good.”

“After school?”

“Yes, after school.”

Greg let out a sigh. “Well, you’ll know me as the very tall guy on the bicycle.”

“I think I can hold onto that visual image.” She smirked. He smirked.

Greg was reaching over like he would give her a hug when her father showed up with a face like thunder.

“Greg, Greg Dudenhoeffer? You too? Jesus. What next? Come on Chloe, time to go home.”

Chloe got up to follow her dad. She turned at the last minute before they went out the door to give Greg a little wave. He waved back.

Yes, she thought to herself, this is really going to be my year!

Her mom was waiting in the car and Chloe let herself in the backseat. Her mom started firing questions at her, but her dad put up a stopping hand.

“Phyllis, enough time for that tomorrow. Let’s just get the kid home.”

The kid sat in the back seat wrapped in a warm, fuzzy glow.

The end.

Devine Tragedy – Part III

Tags

,

“What are we going to do?” Becca asked her friend Chloe. Desperation in her voice.

We are going to do absolutely nothing and act like nothing whatever has happened.” Chloe left off looking for the pen and slammed the locker door roughly. Becca jumped. “Just like nothing happened.” Chloe stuck her chin in the air. “We need to get to class.”

“Okay,” Becca gulped and turned to follow her friend down the hall.

That afternoon, Becca and Chloe were in Lit class. Greg was there. Jennifer was sitting next to him, as close as Ms. Himes would allow. She flashed a smile at Chloe that was brilliant and dazzling white.

Looks like a toothpaste commercial, Chloe thought grimly to herself. Class started and she had to fight to keep her concentration on the subject of the day, John Dunne, and force herself to not keep looking at Jenn and Greg.

An agonizing fifty minutes later, Chloe had her bag packed, on her shoulders and was the first one out the door. Becca rushed to keep up with her.

“Oh, Chloe, Becca,” a feminine voice rang out. Chloe tried to ignore it but Becca tugged at the back of her sleeve.

Slowly, the teen turned around. Jennifer was behind her in the hall with one small hand delicately placed on Greg’s arm. Her eyelash extensions made her blue eyes look even bigger than usual. Greg was busy looking at the ceiling.

“My parents and I will be having a little get together after the Winter prom. I am so hoping you,” her eyes slid over to Becca and she smiled, “and your date will be able to make it. You know the address.” She smirked, tugged on Greg’s sleeve. Her long pink acrylic nails sparkled with tiny jewels. The little hand now had a firm grip on Greg’s upper arm. As they moved down the hall, the pom-pom tassles of her Ugg boots bouncing as she walked. Her black skinny jeans fitting her form perfectly.

Chloe’s vision stared to blur; she felt her hands forming into fists. She was grinding her teeth.

“We should go, sweetie, people are staring at you.” Becca touched a delicate finger to Chloe’s arm.

Chloe yanked away and walked stiffly back to her locker.

Two days later, Chloe was in her room trying to get her homework done. It was difficult because she kept slipping into daydreams about charting a boat and sailing away … her phone rang. She usually ignored it during homework sessions but it was Becca so she picked up.

“Becca.”

“Chloe, are you alone?” Becca whispered into the phone.

“Yes, of course, I’m in my room. What?”

“Um, I have some bad news.”

“Bad news? Becca, the girl I hate most in the entire school is going to the Winter prom with the guy I have been in love with since the 5th grade and you say it gets worse?’

“Well, I don’t know. I think it’s better you hear it from me rather than …”

“Christ. Just go ahead and tell me already!”

“She got a car, a new car.”

“Who got a new car?”

“Jennifer, Jenn got a new car. And …”

“And what? Quit dragging it out.”

“It’s one of those cars; you know that looks like a shoe. That kind. I saw it when I was out shopping with my mom. “

“Okay, so …”

“Chloe … it has a custom paint job. Custom. Pink with brown stripes and little yellow flowers over the brown stripes. It’s really cute …”

“Shit …”

“And … one more thing …” Becca was breathless.

“What!”

“Her new besty friend, you know, that new girl with the red hair and tattoos. Kiki or something. She got a matching car. Same type, same custom paint, different colors.” Becca stopped talking. There was a long silence.

Chloe felt like banging her head against the desk and never stopping.

“Chloe? You okay. I just … ”

“Becca, I’m fine. Thanks for telling me. You are absolutely right. Better from you than someone else. But, I got to go now. Homework, you know.”

“Oh, right, right. Well, um, see you in school tomorrow?”

“Sure thing. We got a swim team race tomorrow after school. ‘Member?” Chloe let out a short hallow laugh.

“Oh, God! We do. I better get to bed early then. Okay, love you lots. Tomorrow.”

“Love you too, Becca.” Carefully, Chloe hit the end button on her phone and put it down. She stared into space. She felt numb.

The next day went by in a blur for Chloe. At lunchtime, she was aware of Jennifer sitting next to Greg and preening him constantly. Her friend Kiki was there and a swarm of young men from various grades kept trying to find room at the table.

Kiki had shown up a few weeks late in the term. She was thin, a little taller than Jenn, with dark red hair cut in a severe asymmetrical style. Half of her head was shaved to the scalp with tiny braids woven tightly at the top before the straight red hair flowed down in a sharp angle. She had tattoos all up one side of an arm and various piercings around her body. Her shirt was low cut and her jeans were torn. She had a pretty, elfin face with small, white teeth, which she flashed often at the boys. They in turn, were gaga over her.

Kiki reminded Chloe of an Anime drawing. The Evil Elf, she thought to herself.

Several of the regulars at their table could not resist the siren song and they too began to drift that way during lunch.

Chloe ate with her head down. Becca ate nervously; alternating between gawking at Jenn and company and glancing at her friend.

“How did her parents ever let her get those tattoos? I thought you had to be eighteen or something,” Becca asked the air not expecting a response.

“San Francisco or Mexico, I expect,” Chloe answered. “Ah, who cares? You done with lunch?”

Becca stole one last glance across the cafeteria and then stuffed the rest of her sandwich in her face. Becca, slightly stocky of build, was a stress eater.

“Sure, coming,” she grabbed her bag and her Diet Coke. Becca found trying to converse with her friend these days increasing difficult.

Later that afternoon, Becca and Chloe suited up and were by the pool waiting for roll call. The guys came out of the locker room together. Chloe turned her back to them so she was looking across the gym.

“Wish me luck, Becca,” a male voice said behind her. Chloe did not turn around.

“Oh, right.” Becca replied nervously. “Good luck, Greg. Is this a tournament day for you guys, too?”

“Yep, it is. And good luck to you on all your races. Even to Miss Chloe.”

Chloe stopped breathing a moment.

“See you, Becca.”

“Right, see you, Greg.”

“Well, what do you think about that? Oh, oh. Oh, no!” Becca exclaimed.

Chloe turned. “What, oh no? What are you talking about?”

“She’s here,” Becca whispered.

“Who?” Chloe had an angry look on her face and looked around the stadium. Then, her heart sank. Three rows up sat Jennifer with two of her friends. They were holding some kind of glitter pom-poms and waving them at the guys.

“Jesus F. Christ, what next?” Chloe turned away.

“Better not let coach hear you talk like that, Chlo. You know how he is.”

Chloe pulled her swim cap down, stalked over to the diving block, and stared hard down into the water.

“Chloe Devine!” she heard her name read.

“Here, coach!” she shouted back.

“Okay, girls, you know the drill. We have been over this a bunch of times. Do your best and try to top your last speed.”

Chloe shook out her arms and legs. All the girls got up on the blocks. The coach blew his whistle. Chloe dived smoothly into the pool.

The water was cool and comforting as always. The pool was deep and a light blue color. Multi-colored flags flew overhead. People started yelling. Chloe swung her arms forward and kicked like the devil himself was behind. She struck the water again and again. Vicious blows. She was hitting Jennifer, she was hitting Greg, she was …. hitting herself. She got to the end of the lane; did her underwater turn and plowed back. Two more laps. The cheering got louder. She pounded the water; all she could think of now was the finish line. Got to get … she hit the wall and stopped.

Standing up suddenly she heard cheering. The coach was leaning over her.

“Chloe, you won; 1:05 minutes for 100 meter freestyle. That’s Olympic quality! I just can’t believe it. I knew you had in it you.” The old guy was smiling like he hit the jackpot. Chloe smiled dazely.

Chloe’s mom and dad had showed up to the race at the last minute and got to see her time posted on the big board.

“Oh, Chloe that was wonderful. Good for you!” her mother was holding out a big dry towel for her and her dad was looking proud.

“Thanks, Mom. We have to do a few more races and then we will be done. You guys want to wait?”

“Of course we do, Hun. Why wouldn’t we?” Mrs. Devine glanced nervously at her husband. Chloe’s younger brother hung back from his parents looking bored.

“Oh, nothing. Okay, it should be another 45 minutes.”

“We’ll be on the bleachers, Hun.”

Chloe dried off as much as possible and wrapped in the big towel, waited her turn for the next round. Her next time was good but still didn’t quite match the first round. Maybe I’m not quite as angry, she thought to herself and grinned.

The family went out to the local coffee shop for an early dinner.

Chloe ate like a starving man and her parents both stared at her.

“Hungry, squirt?” her dad asked carefully.

“Always starving after a meet,” she responded.

Her dad nodded sagely and sipped his coffee. He glanced at his wife and she rolled her eyes a little.

On the way home, they all sang some dumb songs and Chloe felt happier than she had done in weeks. That night she fell into a deep sleep and didn’t move until her alarm went off the next morning.

Continued in part IV

Devine Tragedy – Part II

Tags

After practice, Becca and Chloe usually rode their bikes home. But the weather was starting to get a little chilly and Becca’s dad brought the SUV around to pick up his daughter and her bike.

“Lift?” he asked Chloe.

“No thanks, Mr. Thompson, it’s just a few blocks and I’d rather ride today.”

“Okay, kid. Keep us in mind, weather turns ugly.”

“I will, sir, count on it.”

Thompson did a little salute, climbed up into the SUV cab and pulled away.

Chloe wanted some down time to think. Think without someone getting worried that she was depressed. She stuffed everything into her enormous backpack, shouldered the entire load and headed off home. It was early October and it was getting dark earlier. She would probably have to take Becca up on her offer of a ride soon.

As she rode home, she couldn’t stop thinking about Greg and the skinny kid he had been when her family moved to this neighborhood. At that time, the two of them were about the same height and equally boney.

Who knew the guy would sprout up into the 6’1” monster he was today?. Of course, she was taller too, about 5’7” or 5’8” at last measure. However, while Greg had seemed to erupt into muscular shoulders and back, Chloe was still on the thin side with sharp elbows. Her long arms and big hands were excellent for swimming and eating up the yards, however, out of the water, she often found herself sitting on her hands to hide them. Both her hand and feet made her feel awkward. Her nemesis, Jennifer was much shorter, rounder, prettier too with big boobs and natural blonde curls a la Shirley Temple.

Choe was thinking about the resemblance. Damn it, she even has the dimple!

Most of the boys in the senior class became transfixed when Jennifer floated by and were struck dumb in her presence.

How can I compete with that? Chloe thought viciously to herself. I mean, other than have a boob job or buy falsies.

The girl almost wept. She and Greg had been friends in many classes through the years. In fifth grade, he sat behind her and made her giggle all year long with his fast quips about their 5th grade teacher. A stand-up comedy wanna-be.

“Hey, dude. I hear Jay Leno is auditioning for a backup. Shall I get him your number?” he whispered in her ear. She stifled a giggle.

She also remembered the time that Jennifer Miller, as she was back then, did a spectacular fail on a big English exam. Chloe could remember Mrs. Miller coming to school to pick up her daughter, her face bright with anger.

“All the best men are at all the best school. The best men make the best husbands. You need to get into one of those schools. You will keep your grades up!” she hissed.  With that, the woman jerked a plump and red-faced Jennifer to the parking lot.

Well, she isn’t plump anymore, Chloe thought wryly to herself.

But things had been good between herself and Greg for a long time; sitting with her group at lunch, walking with her to class. Then, slowly things began to change. They both ended up at New H high school and on swim teams. However, when Greg got into water polo, his parents began to send him away for summer camp training. There was even talk about a possible scholarship to the U. Each time Greg got back from a camp, he seemed a little taller, a little bit bigger and … ever more slightly distant.

It wasn’t that Chloe was a complete geek or anything, but she was not, she clearly knew, one of the really cool kids at school. Her mom was an insurance underwriter and her dad; a contractor who had been out of work a lot this year due to the pandemic. Money was a trifle tight at home. Between herself and her younger brother, Sam, what they had needed to go a long way. They still had their ranch-style house of course, and it was in a nice neighborhood. But, Chloe still didn’t have her own car and there was no plan in sight for getting one.

The summer before senior year, Greg’s dad bought him a small, red convertible coupe. It was a BMW. When the kid got that car, things really took a shift.

“It’s the smallest BMW made,” Greg had explained when Chloe complimented him on the car. The boy looked down and nearly shuffled his feet. Finally, he looked up and seemed to gather himself together. “But, yeah, it is nice.” He grinned, his blue eyes glowing.

Chloe felt her heart melt. The no-car thing hurt like never before. She plastered a smile on her face, then, continued on to class, clutching her books in front of her like a protective shield.

She could hear Jennifer and her posse surround Greg; oohing and ahhing all over him, going on about the car.

                                                                                      #

Chloe was about to turn into her street, when she heard the blast of a car horn and jerked right. A car zoomed by and the driver made an ugly hand signal. She had been concentrating so hard on the Greg situation; she had not even noticed the car approaching rapidly from the rear.

She dropped a foot to the street and had to breathe. Her heart was racing as she realized the near miss. She leaned her bike against the curb. Looking around, she realized she was at the small park down the street from where she lived. Lugging her bike and bag over the curb, she went a few feet and plopped down on a cement bench. The bench was cold on her legs. It actually felt good. Helped her to focus.

It wasn’t that Greg was ignoring her deliberately all the time or anything, she had to be honest and admit that. It was more … she gazed around the park. There were large trees gradually loosing leaves. Huge moist yellow leaves lay on the short, cropped grass. The bushes, as always, were trimmed to within an inch of their lives. The City took its responsibilities to the park system seriously. Across the park, two little kids were swinging on the swings over a batch of sand. A bored mom was working to get them to stop, tapping her watch. Dark shadows started to lengthen in the park. There was a slight breeze and chill to the air. Chloe shivered slightly.

Not really ignoring me actually. It was more like … what was it like? She asked herself.

Then it hit her. What is was like, exactly like. Chloe remembered the Disney movie where the kid had the cowboy doll. The kid would play and play with that doll. It was his favorite toy. He loved that doll. Over time, the boy got older and got other favorite toys. Finally, he grew up and the doll was totally left behind, forgotten. Chloe felt just like that doll. A forgotten, favorite toy.

Small tears started to form and fall from her eyes. The wind picked them up and chapped her face. She started to cry harder and harder. She pulled off her backpack and rummaged around for her pack of Kleenex. There were three sheets left. She dabbed her eyes, blew her nose, and then stared out into the gathering dusk.

The mother of the small boys finally gathered them up. The trio trudged out of the park. They walked by her. One little boy stared at her face, his mouth open.

“Don’t stare, Jeremy, it’s not polite,” the mother chastised.

Chloe came back with a jerk. She wiped her eyes one more time. If she didn’t get home, her mother would start calling people. If she got into the house and got to the bathroom quick, she could get a hot towel on her face, then her mom wouldn’t start asking a lot of nosey questions like “Why are your eyes red?”

She didn’t feel like answering questions tonight. She didn’t feel like doing anything except crawling into bed and staying there about ten years or at least until graduation was over.

Pushing the bike back up, Chloe pulled the backpack on and climbed on her bike. She flipped up the headlamp for traffic and headed home.

Becca and Chloe were at lunch the next day. They were at a table with some friends. Greg used to sit with them but now he was several tables away with Jenn and her pals. Their group were all talking and laughing hysterically.

“I wonder what they are talking about,” Becca asked, her mouth full of sandwich, nodding her head at the other table.

Chloe let out a big sigh, spooned her chocolate pudding and said, “I could care.”

“Oh, Chloe, don’t say that girl. You can’t give up the fight. The Winter prom is coming up. What if he asks her? Becca’s eyes got big around and there was no doubt who the her was. “He used to always like yo…”

“I know, Becca, I know,” Chloe was getting testy with her friend. “He used to always…everything.” She spooned a dab of chocolate in her mouth. “That was then, this is now.”

“Ooh,” Becca put on the sad face. “I’m sorry…”

“Becca,” Chloe slammed down her spoon and went to grab her bag, “there is nothing to be sorry about. He has never asked me out, not once, and we were never,” she used her fingers to create brackets, ‘a thing.’ So, can we drop it before I scream?” Chloe stood up to go.

Becca looked slightly cowed and surprised at the same time. “Sure, sure, Chlo, whatever. Um, see you next class?”

Chloe nodded to her friend, got up, threw her trash away and stalked out. She hadn’t finished her lunch, but somehow, she wasn’t hungry anymore. Tittering and laughter from the Jennifer table followed her out of the cafeteria.

Life went on as always, the Winter prom approached. Chloe consoled herself that neither she nor her shorter, heavier friend, Becca had been asked to the dance. It was good to have some constants in an inconsistent, fickle world. It was a Monday morning; the teen was getting her stuff out of her locker when her friend sidled up to her.

“Chloe?”

“Hi, Becca. I’m looking for my good pen.” Chloe kept rummaging through the bottom of the locker.

“I need to tell you something.”

The tone in her friend’s voice made Chloe stop what she was doing and look around the locker door. Becca looked like a basset hound that had been caught chasing chickens.

“What is it?”

Becca clutched her books more tightly to her team sweatshirt. “Well … you know about the Winter prom …”

“Yes, yes. Of course…”

“Well, I got a phone call last night from Tina and she got it from Holly, so, I’m sure it’s really the truth.” Becca looked desperate.

“What is really the truth?” Chloe demanded and stuck her arms akimbo to her waist. She patted her sneakered foot.

“Gregory has asked Jennifer to the Prom and I wanted to tell you first before anyone else told you and you found out in class!” Becca said it all in a rush and out of breath, stopped suddenly, staring at Chloe.

Chloe felt like she had just been kicked in the stomach, she almost bent over, her face flushed. She could feel tears forming behind her eyes. She grabbed the locker door, steadied herself and took a big breath.

“Oh, sweetie, I’m so sor…”

Chloe put up a stopping hand. “Don’t, Becca. Don’t. It just makes it worse.”

“What are we going to do?”

We are going to do absolutely nothing and act like nothing whatever has happened.” Chloe left off looking for the pen and slammed the locker door roughly. Becca jumped. “Just like nothing happened.” Chloe stuck her chin in the air. “We need to get to class.”

Continued Part III

Devine Tragedy

Devine Tragedy

A teenage romance

Courtney Webb

Chloe Devine was seventeen years old and a senior at New Horizons High School, in Southwest Arizona. Students were finally back in class, with masks, but it had been a very long, lonely year, taking classes online at home. The Covid outbreak had put a cramp on a whole lot of things related to high school.

She was relieved to find that her senior class would probably actually walk for graduation. The previous year’s class had accepted their diplomas by Zoom. In any event, Chloe was grateful to be walking the halls again, talking to friends in person. The first day she was back on the campus of New H, as students called it, a load seemed to lift off her shoulders.

Especially fun was her AP lit class with Ms. Himes, who was also a Vice-Principle at New H. Ms. Himes had curly, unruly red hair that frizzed out in bad weather. Not only did Chloe like the woman and admire her, she felt here was a fellow frizzy-haired sufferer. Chloe’s hair was not red, it was dark brown, but curly and a complete misery during humid weather. The teen took to having a knit cap handy so when her hair got completely out of control, she could pull on the cap and content herself with simply fluffy bottoms sticking out.

The AP class was small, only seventeen students, fifteen girls and two boys. They had all earned their seats by dent of hard work, good grades and ‘aptitude.’ Chloe had found herself in class with any number of these students over the years, from as far back as the 5th grade.

Gregory, a tall slim blond, her favorite male at New H, had also got himself into the class by some miracle. Chloe knew for a fact; Greg didn’t really care for literature that much.

“Majoring in biology,” he told her one day at lunch. “Marine biology I think,” he added as he wolfed down his ham and cheese. The girl always wondered where he tucked all the food he was constantly devouring. Chloe was tall and skinny too, but man! She couldn’t eat like that!

Chloe had daydreams about Greg. He would ask her out on a date, they would become a thing; they would go to senior prom. They would go to the same university – he would ask her to get married … The dreams went on and on.

Her big brown eyes popped open when she realized that Ms. Himes had just asked her a question.

“Hmm, ah, hmm…”

Ms. Himes give Chloe a stern look and then, “Jennifer?”

Jennifer blithely brought forth a smooth melodious answer. “Jane Austin, Ma’am, Pride and Prejudice.” She smiled.  Chloe began to feel a pink blush of embarrassment rise on her cheeks. I knew that, she chastised herself.

Jennifer finished speaking and gave Chloe an arch, cat-like glance, smugness itself. The two had been in many of the same classes over the years. Although Chloe hated to admit it, they were frequently competing for the same classes, same grades, same awards, same everything.

In fact, Jennifer would get to class early and save a seat for Greg. She would mince and pat the chair when he came in. Whenever she accomplished her goal, Jennifer would tilt her blonde curly head to the side, smile sweetly and work very hard to keep her all her attention on either Ms. Himes or Gregory.

Greg seemed to not notice what was going on with Jennifer or else, chose to ignore the implications.  

I just bet he loves the attention! Chloe fumed to herself.

As soon as the bell rang, Jennifer would jump up and get as close to Greg as possible and walk with him out the door. When this happened, she would always turn slightly and shoot Chloe a tight smirk.

Chloe couldn’t help it, when she saw the two of them walk out of the class together, her heart sank.

Of course, Chloe would get her own back when her team would meet after school at the indoor pool for swimming. She was on the girls’ team and Greg played water polio. His big, long arms were perfect for spiking the ball over the net and he was the team’s star player. Chloe had been swimming her whole life, Austrian crawl was her specialty, and she was good at it.

The girls and boys came out of separate locker rooms. Chloe was wearing a new teal, one-piece, Speedo suit. It complemented her pale skin and fit well over her lanky frame. She still despaired over being mostly flat chested.

Her mother would say, “Stop worrying, Chloe. They’ll come in. The boys used to call me Ironing Board when I was your age. Look at me now!”

Since her mother was also a little on the plump side, Chloe didn’t want to think about that too hard.

She was suited up and chatting with the girls on the team when Greg strode by. He paused.

“Chloe.”

“Greg.”

“New suit?”

She looked down at herself and paused. “Let me think. Ah, yes, it is.” She smiled and looked up at him.

Greg was smiling too. He grinned. “Looking good girl, looking good.” He instantly turned and kept striding to the big square pool where water polo was held.

“Oh, Chloe isn’t he too much!” Becca, Chloe’s good friend gushed. She put her head down and whispered in Chloe’s ear, “Do you think he will ask you out? The Winter Prom is coming up soon.”

Chloe shook her head and shrugged. “No idea, it hasn’t happened yet.”

“Ooh,” Becca looked sad a moment and then glanced over to the other pool. “Thank God, that silly Jennifer hates to swim, or she would be here and all over him like an eel. Geese, she gives me the creeps!”

“Yeah,” Chloe responded.

The coach showed up with his whistle and clipboard. He started to call out names. Time to shift focus, Chloe turned toward the coach.

Continued Part II

Tina Turner – Proud Mary

Tags

, , , ,

Tina Turner – Proud Mary  – 1939-2023

Tina, born Anna Mae Bullock in Nutbush, Tennessee, was the child of share-cropper parents. She was married to Ike Turner in 1960. They later divorced and she remarried Erwin Bach in 2013.

Tina met Ike Turner in 1956 at the Club Manhattan and made her first record in 1960, A Fool in Love.

She was later discovered by Phil Spector, the music mogul, and 1969 was a cover band for the Rolling Stones. In 1971, she did a remake of the Creedance Clearwater song, Proud Mary. In 1976, she separated from her abusive husband, Ike Turner, later divorcing him in 1978.

In 1983 she recorded the hit, Let’s Stay Together and in 1985 was featured in the hit movie, Mad Max and the Thunderdrome, with the song, We Don’t Need Another Hero.

She was well-known for her singing, short-skirts, high heels and energetic dance company ensembles. She will be truly missed by a multitude of fans.

John Krasinski – Lip Sync Battle

John Krasinski; 10/20/79 -, is married to actress Emily Blunt and they have two daughters. He is well known for his time on the TV series, The Office, the movie Fantastic Four and others.

Berrino did this number as a tribute to Tina.

Fantasia Berrino

Little Black Book – V – Conclusion

Tags

, , ,

 Three weeks later:

Detective Kim called to Mrs. Robert Towne and asked her to come to the station. She did and was ushered into his office.

“Annyeonghaseyo, Mrs. Towne. Come in.”

He pulled out a chair and gestured for her to sit down. She held her purse close to her body and sat down, hunched over.

“Tea?” He asked her. She nodded yes. He waved at the girl outside the door and spoke some rapid Korean. She hurried away.

“Thank you so much. I understand how difficult this is.”

Shin nodded, head down.

“I had you come in to look over some things we found.” Shin’s head jerked up.

“Found?”

“Yes, some things that washed up on the shore and were brought to our attention.”

The female officer scurried back in with cups of hot tea and sugar. It was on a tiny tray, and she carefully put it on the desk in front of Shin.

Shin picked up some sugar, poured it in the tea and took a sip.

Detective Kim waited with one hand on a large, canvass bag at his feet.

“Okay?” he asked.

Shin nodded.

Kim pulled out the bag and stood up and started to lay things on the desk.

“A hat. One striped cotton shirt. A pair on long, cotton pants; size extra-large.”

Shin fingered the items and silent tears started to roll down her cheeks.

“One wallet.” He carefully laid the last item on the desk. It was still damp.

Shin picked it up with trembling fingers and opened it. She stared at her husband’s Korean driver’s license stuck behind the little rectangle of plastic and wept.

The lady officer was still hovering by the door. Kim waved her away and went and closed the door.

“I am so sorry.” He put a hand on Shin’s shaking shoulder and went to sit down.

“Where, where . . .? “

“The owner of the bait shop actually called us. A fisherman found these and brought them to him, thinking he might know about it.”

“Where . . .?“

“Yes, the shop where, I believe, your husband got his bait and tied up his boat.”

“We have to keep these things for a while as we are still searching for . .  . him. But then, you can have them back.”

She nodded, still sobbing.

“There is one last thing.” Kim paused and looked at her.

He got up, went to the corner and came back with a bamboo rod. “This.”

Shin looked at the rod.

“Was this his too?”

“I think so. I don’t know . . . They all look alike to me. He had so many.”

“And this.” Kim produced a coil of nylon rope and put in on the desk.

“Well, it’s odd about this rod.” The detective pulled on the line which was attached to the end. “There should be a hook and the hook has been torn off.”

Shin nodded.

“The rope also has an end which is sheered or pulled off.” He glanced at her.

Shin shrugged her shoulders.

“That plus the fact that his shoes were still in the boat when we found it, lead us to some conclusions.”

“Conclusions?”

“We think that perhaps he hooked a fish, maybe a big one, and the boat was dragged out to sea, where it was found. Then, maybe, he was pulled overboard. Which,” he glanced at her, “could be why we haven’t been able to find the body yet.”

She erupted into more tears.

Kim stood up. “That’s okay. That’s okay.” He walked over to Mrs. Towne while waving his hand at his girl. “Ella will take you to the front to sign some papers about the clothing and we will be in contact.”

“As soon as you know something,” She looked up at him.

“Just as soon as we know.” He reassured her.

The office girl led the still weeping Shin out of his office. Kim sat back down at his desk and pulled the rod and reel closer to him. He fingered the line and looked puzzled.

Finally, he got up and thrust the rod angrily in the corner and went out to have a cigarette.

                                                                        ###

Two months later, Shin and the girls were down at the marina. She had burned some of Bob’s things and they were in a little urn. They were going to sprinkle the ashes over the water where she knew he liked to fish.

She got down to the wharf, said hello to the bait and tackle guy who gave her a mournful little wave. They got into a little skiff, and she started the engine.

Being from Busan, Shin’s father had had a little boat and he taught her how to start the engine and to steer.

She headed out to sea about a half mile from shore. She felt that was far enough. Pulling the urn from her bag, she unscrewed the top. Each girl took a handful of ash and spread it on the water. She was the last and emptied the urn into her palms. Holding her hands up, the ash was carried away by the wind.

They then said a Buddhist prayer and were finished. They just sat rocking with the water and enjoying the breeze.

“Mom, look!”

Min, the oldest girl, was pointing to the water close to the boat.

Shin looked over the side as both girls rushed to look. She put her hand out.

“Don’t tip us over, okay?”

“Wow, Mom. What a big fish!” Julie cried.

Shin looked. Yes, it was an enormous blue fish. The type she didn’t know.

“Is it going to eat us?”

“Oh, no, I don’t think so,” Shin replied. “I think they eat plants.” Whatever, she thought to herself.

“Wow, it’s so big! It kind of looks like that fish Dad kept talking about,” Min said.

“Yes,” Shin said thoughtfully.  “Yes.”

Yet, there was something about that fish. It had enormous blue eyes that, she could swear, were staring at her. And, it looked, it looked. . . so sad. It reminded her of . . . no, that was foolish. What the hell was she thinking?

She shook herself. “Time to go girls.”

“Oh, Mom. We just got here.”

“I know, but we have things to do. Got to go.”

Rapidly Shin restarted the engine and swung the boat around. The big blue fish didn’t seem to move. It just hung there in the water.

Shin turned her head around and watched the fish until she couldn’t see it anymore.

I don’t think I’m going to come here again, she thought to herself. No, I don’t think I will.

                                                                        THE END