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What If: Vol 4-4

Gone

June 21, 1952

“Jambalay’an’a’crawfish pie an’a’fila’gumbo!”

He hadn’t seen Susan since saying goodnight

after the dinner to celebrate his graduation.

And their kiss in the stairwell was…?

Perfunctory.

Yesterday evening

when we had spoken on the phone  

we made plans to spend tomorrow,

Saturday at the beach,

at which time Susan had told me,

 “Don’t come up.

My mom and dad are still

hurt and don’t care to see you yet.”

“Sue,”

I had said,

“you know I like your mom’n’dad,

and think if I can just talk to them,

I would be able to get them to

understand why I did it.

Why I had to lie.”

“No,”

she had answered.

“I think it best if you let it be a while longer.”

“Whatever you say, baby.

Pick you at eleven,

okay?”

“Yes. That’ll be fine.”

“Susan…”

“Yes.”

“I love you.”

“…I love you, too.”

June 21, 1952

“Jambalay’an’a’crawfish pie an’a’fila’gumbo!”

“It was a beautiful Saturday.

Taping my hands on the steering wheel,

I sang along with Hank Williams.

As always,

his heart quickening at the first sight of her,

Susan was there,

sitting on the stoop waiting for him.

Pulling to the curb,

leaning across the seat,

“Hi, beautiful!”

I said through the open window.

Standing, she walked slowly to the car.

Rather than a bathing suit and a beach robe,

Susan wore blue jeans and a blouse.

Looking at her face,

“Hey,” I questioned,

“where’s your bathing suit?”

Susan’s skin was sallow,

the flesh around her eyes puffy and,

as though she had been crying,

her eyes glassy and bloodshot.

“Susan, what’s wrong?”

Opening the door,

“I have to talk to you.”

She sat down.

“Sue?”

I attempted to put my arms about her,

but resisting,

she held both hands,

her fists clenched,

against my chest.

“What’s the matter?”

Staring out the window,

she didn’t answer.

“For God’s sake, Sue,”

becoming alarmed,

“what happened?

What’s wrong?”

Opening her hand,

she looked down.

My eyes follow her eyes;

upon her palm was a gold ring.

“Sue?”

His mind not accepting what his eyes saw,

lifting her other hand

he looked for a like ring,

a ring with an adhesive taped shank,

a ring that looked exactly like this ring…

that should be on her finger…

but wasn’t.

“Oh, God! Susan, no!”

“I…”

Her chest heaving,

tears welling in her eyes.

“I…”

The words catching in her throat,

barely able to whisper…

“I… Oh, God.

I can’t…

I…” taking a deep intake of breath,

“I can’t see you anymore.”

Turning her face forward,

she closed her eyes.

“No! Sue, you can’t!”

My eyes stinging,

feeling a constricting within my  throat,

within my heart,

 “Susan, you can’t mean that!”

As though afraid to look at him,

Susan’s eyes remained closed.

“They did it!

Sue,”

I cried,

“don’t let them!

Please,

don’t let them do this!”

“I’m sorry…

Oh, God!”

She looked at him.

“Please, if you love me…”

“ ‘If I love you’?

Oh, God, Sue,

I love you more than anything!”

“If you love me,

If you love me as you say,

then please

do not try to see me again,

do not try to call me again.”

As though committing his face to memory.

staring at him,

 “Oh, God! Please!

Placing the ring on the dashboard,

Susan stepped out

and without a backward look

hurried from the car.

Looking at her through the mist of his tears,

“Susan!”

Calling after her, as…

“Susan!”

she disappeared through the entry door,

Susan was gone.

Gone?

There was no memory of life before Susan.

What If: Vol 4-5

Ultimatum

June 25, 1952

He waited four days.

Somehow he

lived through four days

without speaking to Susan,

then,

taking a deep breath

he called at 5:30 p.m.;

a time when he was sure she’d be home

and her father wouldn’t;

meaning he'd have a 50/50

chance of either Susan or her mother

answering the phone.

“Hello.”

Silent a moment,

her voice destroying all composure,

“Sue,”

his throat thickening,

barely able to speak,

“it’s me, Sue.”

Feeling her heart pound,

swallowing,

fighting back tears,

desperately wanting to talk to him,

to tell him,

Oh, God,

I love you.

I miss you…

Susan said nothing.

“Sue,”

finding his voice,

“honey,

I had to talk to you one more time.”

He waited three heartbeats for her to speak,

 and when she didn’t,

“I love you!

No one!

I promise no one in your life will

love you as much as I love you!

And I know you love me, too.

I know this is because of collage

and I promise I’ll do anything

to get into college, Sue.

Only please don’t let them do this to us!

Please, Sue!”

“Mitchell…”

Oh, God…

he sighed.

“Yes, Mrs. Friedman.”

“Susan does not want to talk to you,

and she does not want you to call here again!”

“I know what I did was wrong!'

He pleaded 

"But I got trapped that first night

and had to say what I said!

But I swear I did everything to make it right.

You have no idea what I did

or how hard I worked to make it right!

And I promise I will make it right!

Please, Mrs. Friedman,

I’m still the same guy,

and I know you and Mister Friedman like me…

liked me.”

“No.

Apparently you are not ‘the same guy’

we thought you were,

nor ‘the same guy’

my daughter thought you were!”

“Mrs. Friedman,

 I love Susan,

and know she loves me, too!

Please!”

“No!

Susan does not love you!

Susan thinks what you did was reprehensible

and does not want you to call again!

Do you understand?

And if you do,

we’ll call the police!

Do you understand?”

Not answering,

dazed,

he broke the connection.

To be continued

©March 13, 2012 / Mark M. Lichterman