____________________________________________________

“I took a pill and I’m ‘so’ tired, and I just want to go to sleep.”

“Sure, baby, I know.”

Moving his body back. Stuffing his penis back through the fly of his pajamas to be held between his thighs.

Reaching above the headboard, turning the light off.

“Good-night, baby. I love you.”

“I love you, Mitchie.”

In the eyes of the law, and…

In the eyes of God…

On this night Marsha and Mitchell Lipensky did in fact sleep ‘spoon fashion’.

And so began…

The first day of their lives.

_________________________________________________________

A “Becoming” excerpt in sequence:

“Meeting Each Other”

Chicago, Illinois 

The First Day of Their Lives: Meeting Each Other

December 18, 1955: 8:43 a.m.

 Shining through, a bright beam of light shone between the slightly parted drapes.

Sleeping with his arm over Marsha’s shoulder. cuddled against her back with his face in her sweet smelling hair…

Mitchell Lipensky had a rock-hard erection that, once again— this time by its own volition— had conveniently poked through the fly of his pajamas. Instinctively snuggling even closer, it pushed between the backs of her flannel-covered thighs.

The ray of light brushed against his eyelids and, partially awake, remaining in this comfortably erotic semi-sleep, breathing the scent of Marsha’s hair, he felt the warmth of her body and the heat that surrounded his penis.

The physical part of his erection had been caused by a very full bladder. The other part, the mental part, by the fact that it was parked within Marsha’s — albeit flannel covered— crotch.

Though he ‘assumed’ she had inserted a ‘tampon’, he was not aware that what he felt against his penis was the bulk of a ‘Super Kotex’… Which, quite possibly was the reason Marsha did not feel it.

Fully awake now however reluctant to move because, If I move, he thought, she may move, too. And he was ‘so’ comfortable and so…God, he thought, I want to do it so bad!

But because of her period he knew she ‘wouldn’t’ and he ‘won’t’ and he thought of Chriss’ ‘other way to skin a cat’. But alas, he knew that Marsha would ‘never’ go for that and he did not want to wake her but he ‘did’ have to urinate. So carefully extracting ‘himself’ from between her flannel covered thighs, he went into the bathroom…

While there, Mitchell brushed his teeth and, sniffing his armpit, decided to take a shower.

Coming from the bathroom and seeing that she hadn’t changed positions, about to get back into bed, he had, Sure, why not? an urge to lie next to her completely nude…

Removing his pajamas quietly so as not to wake her, he crawled beneath the blanket and once again, oh, so ‘carefully’, ensconced his—now it was ‘all’ mental—erect penis within the back of her thighs….

The rhythm of her breathing not changed. After a couple of minutes, reaching across her arm…Oh, God! ‘So’ soft! ‘So’ warm! ‘So’ nice! Mitchell held a breast over her pajamas.

Having taken two pain pills before going to sleep, still Marsha didn’t move.

Cuddling even closer, Yeah, sure, why not? Slowly. Carefully unbuttoning a button, his hand— inching through—Mitchell held, Oh, God! ‘So’ warm! ‘So’ soft! ‘So’ nice! But…

Not accustomed to sleeping with ‘anyone’. Awakening disoriented…

Marsha felt the weight of a body against her body and an arm across her arm and ‘especially’ the fondling touch of a hand upon her bare breast that caused an involuntary reaction and turning quickly, bringing her elbow around, it crashed into Mitchell’s forehead which…

“ ‘Shit’!” caused an involuntary exclamation.

“Mitch? Mitchie?”

Awake now. Realizing what she’d done. “Oh, baby, I’m sorry! I didn’t know it was you! You okay?”

Her elbow had actually glanced off his forehead.

Lying on his back, holding his nose, “Oh, doo, id’s okay.”

“Mitchie,” getting onto her hands and knees, leaning over him, “I’m sorry! Did I hurt you?”

Hanging freely, he easily saw Marsha’s dangling breasts beneath the top of her dangling pajamas and, God! they looked so nice!

“Oh, doo, I always sped the first day of by odeymoon gedding hid in da dose.”

Kissing his forehead. “Are you really hurt?”

Slipping his arms around her back and rotating, pinned her beneath his chest. “No! Luckily you got me on the head… God, all I did was touch one little boobie and you clobbered me.”

Relieved to see she hadn’t hurt him.

“Well, you scared me.” she pouted. “I’m not used to having some big, hairy guy grabbing hold of one of my boobies while I’m asleep.”

“ ‘A big, hairy guy’? Me?” He attempted to kiss her, but…

“Mitchie,” turning her head, “I haven’t brushed my teeth yet and ‘really’ need a shower.”

“Okay.” So instead, nuzzling her breasts. “Oh, God!” Unbuttoning the buttons, “Marcie, you’re so beautiful!” He looked at the dream of Marsha’s… his wife’s sleep-creased breasts.

Marsha was aware that he wasn’t wearing pajama tops but, “Mitchie,” her arms about him, her hands on his buttocks, “where are your bottoms?”

“Don’t know…. Guess I left it in the bathroom when I took a shower.

Kissing a dusky-pink nipple that even then— exciting him further —was in the process of changing color and definition.

Sensing the level of her own excitement increasing. Never having seen Mitchell—or for that matter any other male fully nude— Oh, yes, she’d seen his penis through the fly of his pants at the planetarium. But later that night, when they had slept together, it had been too dark to see anything. And curious, too. Pushing against him —but not having to push too hard— forcing him onto his back and throwing the blanket off, Marsha saw the wholly nude body of a man, of her husband. And she felt a rising heat.

Surprising herself, Marsha realized the heat was not from embarrassment as she’d imagined it would be, as — watching its course — she slowly, lightly traced the tip of a finger over his lips, through the hair of his chest, around a copper-colored nipple—where she, too, wondered at the tightening effect—then the other nipple and down into his navel and into —feeling her heart race—the dark tangle of hair.

Teasing him, and herself…Oh, God! she thought as, tightening her hand, Marsha held the, so warm, so soft hardness of ‘God’s miracle of human engineering’.

His flesh tingling, watching the downward movement of her finger...

Watching, Oh, God! Feeling her hand tighten about ‘him’.

“Baby...” he said huskily, a hand behind her neck, pulling her face to his. “...take yours off, too, baby. I want to see you naked, too. Hesitating,… “And, if you’d like, there’s other ways to do things.”

‘There’s other ways to do things’.

Realizing, at least ‘thinking’ she knew what he meant by ‘other ways to do things’.

Although, ‘really’ what he had in mind was not what she ‘thought’ he was suggesting and ‘oral sex’ was something she was sure she would not want to do… Possibly ‘ever’.

Marsha also knew that— for her— intercourse while menstruating was something she would ‘never’ do. Besides, she did not want Mitchell to see a bloody, ‘gloppy’ Kotex pad.

“Maybe soon,” she said, “but not now.”

Thinking of Chriss’ little piece of dangling string, “What’s so terrible now, that’s going to change tomorrow?”

Becoming slightly angry. “I didn’t say ‘tomorrow’. But so you know, I bleed real hard the first couple of days and have to wear a ‘pad’.”

‘Women’s stuff’ still far above him. “Pad?”

“Mitchell, I thought you knew! I use a ‘Kotex’ the first few days then, when it slows I switch to tampons. Right now it would be too embarrassing and as soon as I can I will get all undressed for you. So ‘please’ baby, have a little more patience.”

Not waiting for a reply. Bounding from the bed. “Gott’a get into the shower!”

****

Stepping from the shower, “Mitchie,” she called through the closed door.

At the other sink, shaving, “yeah, Marcie?”

Toweling her back dry, “what time is it?”

Glancing at his watch. “Nine thirty-five.”

“What time are we supposed to be in Skokie?”

“Whenever we get there. We’re supposed to call your folks when we’re about ready to leave here, and your mom’ll call mine and they’ll meet us there.”

“I’ll be ready in about forty-five minutes. You want to call and tell them we should be thare at about… elevenish.”

“Yeah, sure. Soon as I’m done shaving.”

Considering putting eye-liner on. “Can you believe it’s over, and that we’re ‘really’ married?”

Rinsing the shaving soap off. “We’re both still virgins, ain’t we? I’ll believe it when we’re not.”

“Well, we won’t be for long.

Knowing she should leave ‘well enough alone’. However Marsha had discovered that she enjoyed teasing her new husband and ‘especially’ enjoyed watching the physical reaction she’d inspired: from soft to hard and erect.

Wanting to see the look on his face. Opening the door and coming out of the bathroom bare chested. “Mitchell!”

Although expecting to see him standing just outside the doorway still nude. “You’re ‘not’ supposed to just stand around here naked all day!”

“Why not? Like you said, we are married, and married people do….” Drying his face, not expecting her to come from the bathroom bare-chested. Lowering the towel, “...uh, go naked in front of each other.”

Except for the time at the planetarium, when she’d seen him in a flaccid state—and then she had thought it was more the way he had been sitting than his actual flaccid size—though, to be honest, she hadn’t really thought about it because each time she’d seen ‘it’ he’d always been in an erected state. And now thinking, it’s cute! Marsha looked at the ‘dangly’ white nub of Mitchell’s penis within the black triangle of pubic hair, as...

Mitchell looked at Marsha’s breasts that— more than merely exciting —he truly thought of as ‘absolutely’ beautiful.

Standing nude, looking at his young wife while watching her look at him, Mitchell did become excited and his penis did engorge, again.

Fascinated…

As though hypnotically watching the swaying head of a cobra. Audibly wallowing. Blinking her eyes, Marsha watched as, jerking twice, within a moment her young husband’s penis stood stiffly, horizontally away from his body.

As the transformation took place, from soft to hard, from limp to erect, Marsha, once again felt a warm flush and again cursed the unexpected premature timing that had caused the delay in allowing her to do what she had dreamt of doing since that night in June, six months ago, when Mitchell had first kissed her at the beach.

Now…

Not knowing what to say. What to do. Knowing she had to do ‘something’. Forcing her eye upward while stepping backward into the bathroom, Marsha closed the door behind her.

Looking at her face in the mirror, Marsha attempted to regain her composure…

Finally, reaching into the open top of her green, imitation lizard overnight case, she removed the plastic bag containing her makeup.

Never loosing his composure. Tickled that Marsha had lost hers. Actually flattered by her reaction he packed his shaving gear into his kit, zipped it and went to the closet.

**** 

The afternoon before, having gotten over whatever it was that had made her so angry earlier in the day— as though nothing had happened— Myra had driven Rhea, Marsha and Rosalie to the Palmer House at 4:30 PM, where they’d ensconced themselves, along with the bridesmaids as they showed up, in room 1812 to do whatever was necessary to make themselves beautiful and to change into their gowns.

Changing into their tuxedos at home, Eli went to the hotel with Roger and a ‘very’ pregnant Brenda— which was the reason she’d declined ‘standing up’.

At his request, letting Walter drive, Mitchell and Walter came in the Ford convertible.

Not allowed in the room, whomever it was that stuck her bare arm through the slightly parted door to get his ‘luggage’ was heard to say, ‘That’s ‘really’ classy, Lipensky!” Because Mitchell’s ‘luggage’ consisted of the then-empty plastic bag from the tuxedo rental shop and a brown-paper A&P shopping bag containing his shaving kit, jacket, shoes and one complete change of everyday clothing.

Chicago, Illinois December 18, 1955: 10:49 AM

The First Day of Their Lives: Pennies

Dressed in jeans, a corduroy shirt, white socks and brown loafers. “Almost ready?”

“Yeah, Mitch. Be out in a second.”

Her makeup and toilet articles back in the plastic bag along with yesterday’s underwear in a second plastic bag, Marsha removed a fresh bra and panties from the case along with what she had worn to the hotel yesterday — that she’d folded neatly and put into the case: jeans, blue cotton blouse, bobby socks and black penny loafers.

Through dressing, everything packed inside the green, imitation lizard overnight case, she closed the square lid and snapped the brass catch closed.

Dressed well before Marsha, dialing ‘O’ Mitchell gave the hotel operator the Goldman phone number.

While waiting for the connection to be made, laying on the bed with his back propped against the headboard he was thumbing through the stack of cards that came with the cash and checks that Myra and Rhea had noted the amounts on as they’d opened each envelope. Looking up as Marsha came from the bathroom. “We’re supposed to take these with us and send thank-you notes?”

“Yes. We got thank-you cards and envelopes with the invitations.”

Speaking into the phone... “Oh, hi...” Liking his father-in-law, he found it easy to address him. “...Dad. It’s me, Mitchell.”

“Morning, Mitch.” Feeling somewhat ill at ease talking to him today. “You kids, uh... out of bed and dressed?” Not quite sure of what to say, “How’d everything… uh, how’s Marcie? You going to be leaving soon?”

“She’s fine, Dad! Yeah, we’ll be leaving in a minute. You want to call Skokie and tell ‘em we’re on our way?”

“Sure, Mitch. See you in a little while… Bye.”

“So, Marcie, you ready?”

“Just about. You got all your stuff packed?”

“Yeah. All the tuxedo stuff’s in the tuxedo bag and all my other stuff’s in the bag there,” pointing to the A&P shopping bag.

“I’ve got to hand it to you, Mitchell, you ‘sure’ travel in style… You know I’m not a snob but if you ‘don’t’ mind, I’d rather ‘not’ walk out of the Palmer House carrying a paper shopping bag. Why don’t you see if it’ll fit in my case? I left it in the toilet.”

“Oh, yeah...” getting off the bed, “...’sure’ you’re not a snob!” Going into the bathroom he came out carrying the overnight case.

“Jesus, Marcie...” swinging the case up and letting its own weight slam it onto the bed, “...what in the hell you got in here?”

She had brought it to the hotel knowing full well how much it weighed.

“Pennies.”

“Pennies?”

Popping the catch lock, lifting the hinged lid he looked under Marsha’s pajamas and the two plastic bags… Prompting the question, “ ‘Why’?” because the square bottom was buried beneath layers of pennies.

“It’s my bank. For years, whenever I had pennies I threw them in and I’d take daddy’s whenever he had some. When I was packing yesterday, I didn’t know what to do with them, so I figured we might as well take ’em with us, and they’ll be the start of our saving account.”

Getting the A&P bag. “How many you think you got there?”

“I don’t know. A thousand, maybe twelve hundred.”

Actually, there were ‘2,397’ pennies in the green, imitation lizard overnight case.

Putting his kit into the case, “Wow!” Teasing her, “What’s that, then? Ten, twelve bucks.”

“Hey, big mouth! How much ‘you’ got saved?”

“Not sure.” Leaving yesterday’s underwear and pajamas in the A&P bag, folding it in half he put the bag into the case. “Last time I talked to my broker…” Slightly overloaded now, Mitchell forced the top closed. “...we figured…” however, not noticing a bit of one of the shopping bag’s paper-string handles caught between the lid and case. “...oh, ‘bout a few million.”

“Yeah! How come now’s the ‘first’ time I’ve heard about it? Where’z’at, huh?”

“All tied up.” Pretend yawning while buffing his fingernails on the front of his shirt “You know how it is with us ‘really’ rich guys.”

“Yeah, sure, I know how it is with you ‘really rich guys’.”

Looking about the room to see if they’d forgotten anything.

“Looks like we’ve got everything.”

“Yup!” Hefting Marsha’s case off the bed. Going to the closet and putting the case down, he helped Marsha on with her jacket then put his on. Holding the over-sized tuxedo bag by the hanger Mitchell lay it across his left shoulder then opening the door, he again lifted the green, imitation lizard case.

Attempting to hold the long gown folded across one arm, Marsha found that the crinoline undergarment had a mind of its own and wanted to go where it wanted to go so instead, the bulky gown had to be held in both arms folded in half.

Not thinking of leaving the key. Taking one last look about then stepping into the hall the door to room 1812 was pulled shut.

The elevator door opening. The seven people inside looked knowingly at the cumbersome wedding gown in Marsha’s arms and the bulky tuxedo bag slung over Mitchell’s shoulder and knowing that the young couple were newlyweds and ‘knowing’, so they thought, what the young couple had done last night, nodding, smiling, making room for Marsha and Mitchell, the seven moved to the rear of the elevator.

Three stops and three additional people later…

“Whew!” Mitchell whispered as the door opened and they ‘finally’ stepped out of the elevator into the lobby. “Felt kind’a like their eyes were digging into my back.”

“You felt it too, huh!”

Stopping a moment to get their bearings.

Looking about the huge, richly appointed lobby. Feeling ‘extremely’ conspicuous due to the ‘highly’ noticeable, dead giveaway wedding gown in her arms and the over-sized tuxedo bag held over his shoulder, anxious to return the key and officially check out of their room and be on their way, Marsha followed Mitchell across the mirror-like marble-floored lobby to the front desk.

In addition to the people milling about the front desk, there were also knots of people awaiting the announcement of the start of the Palmer House’s well-publicized ‘11;oo AM Sunday Morning Brunch’.

Many of the people standing about had noticed the couple as they got off the elevator and having nothing better to do...

Many of the men envious of Mitchell and the beautiful young woman at his side, and many of the women envious of Marsha and the handsome young man at her side but ‘mostly’ jealous of their youth and the excitement of this, the first day of their lives together…

Many of the people standing about had noticed the couple as they got off the elevator and having nothing better to do watched the young couple as they crossed the lobby.

“Marcie,” said from the corner of his mouth, “do you have the feeling that ‘all’ of those people are staring at us?”

Looking straight ahead, “God, yes!”

Slipping out of her arms. Catching the now trailing train. Having a near impossible time holding onto the unruly wedding gown. “I can’t wait to get out of here!”

At the desk, Marsha stood next to Mitchell as he handed the key across and officially checked out of room 1812.

Still sensing eyes on their backs, Marsha and Mitchell angled across the lobby, heading— as quickly as possible— to the five wide steps leading to the lower foyer the three revolving doors, and the freedom of Wabash Avenue…

When, suddenly…

Because the top was not securely shut due to the caught paper-string handle of Mitchell’s A&P shopping bag...

To say nothing of the excessive weight of 2,397pennies…

The clasp of Marsha’s green, imitation lizard overnight case popped open and the A&P shopping bag, his shaving kit, her pajamas, two plastic bags and…

“Oh, my God!”

Pennies…

All two thousand, three hundred and ninety-seven pennies fell to the mirror-like marble-floored lobby with a loud…

Oh, so loud…

“Oh, my God!”

…metallic clatter and…

The people that had not been looking before were sure looking now as…

Two thousand, three hundred and ninety-seven pennies—the perfect little copper wheels they are—skittled and scattled under the feet of those milling about, or checking into or out of the hotel… That hopped and hurdled around the feet of those waiting for the Palmer House’s well publicized ‘11:00 Am Sunday Morning Brunch… That bounded and bounced down the five wide steps leading to the lower foyer and into the triangles of the three revolving doors, and…

“Oh, my God!”

Marsha, with her ‘highly’ conspicuous wedding gown with its unruly crinoline under-garment and Mitchell, with the over-sized white plastic bag on one shoulder and the handle of the now open- topped lid of now empty, green, imitation lizard overnight case in the other hand stood— turning helplessly in circles watching the rolling progression of two thousand, three hundred and ninety-seven pennies, and…

“Oh, my God!”

Dropping to his knees, Mitchell stuffed Marsha’s plastic cosmetic bag, her plastic dirty underwear bag, her pajamas, his kit and the A&P shopping bag back into the green, imitation lizard overnight case as…

“ ‘OH, MY GOD’!”

Well-meaning men, children and even a few women throughout the lobby were on their knees picking up pennies with the intent of…

“ ‘OH, MY, GOD’, they’re going to bring the damned things back!” And…

Embarrassment in the past was as a wisp of a cloud to a mountain. Embarrassment in the past was as a pea to the earth, as a pee in the ocean, and…

“Mitchell, ‘hurry’!”

Slamming the lid. Snapping the catch shut. Standing, he looked at the kneeling, stooping, misguided, albeit well-meaning people and, “Lets get the ‘hell’ out of here!”

Grabbing Marsha’s hand he pulled her—with the train of wedding dress fluttering behind as a flag in a wind—across the lobby, down the five marble steps towards the revolving doors…

But somehow having enough presence of mind to realize that the trailing wedding gown would ‘never’ make it through a revolving door, he swerved, dragging Marsha to the right— through the stationary doorway— onto the street and the freedom of Wabash Avenue, where…

Breathing deeply. Trying to catch their breath, frosty vapor coming from mouths and nostrils, Marsha and Mitchell stood at the curb looking into the lobby. Then realizing the humor in the situation, looking at each other as though on cue, exploded into laughter…

“Remember…” barely able to speak, “when you called when the lid was stuck in the frying pan and I said this was going to be fun! ‘Remember’?”

“Yeah, Marcie…” Stopping to catch his breath whil handing the bewildered doorman the ticket for the car, who handed it to car hop.

Unable to stop laughing. “I can’t believe it!” she gasped, “Seemed like there was a million of ’em!”

“Yeah, no shit! ‘Believe it’! At least a million!”

“Hey, Mitch, know what?”

“What?”

“I love you!”

“Yeah, and I love you, too! And so much for our savings account.”

“Nah.” Reaching into her coat pocket, bringing her hand out she opened it and there in her palm were three pennies. “Here, we’ll start again.”

 The Next “Becoming” excerpt in sequence: On The Road/Dirty Words