A FBOW excerpt in sequence: Space Age Dawning

NBC News: September 3, 1957

“As you know by now,” a different well known newscaster said. “Governor Faubus said he activated the Arkansas National Guard in order to keep the nine Negro children from attending school here. “President Eisenhower, in a move to protect the Little Rock Nine, sent the 101st Airborne Division into Little Rock to evoke the Constitution, and for a tense time the bayoneted rifles of the Arkansas National Guard faced the bayoneted rifles of a thousand federal paratroopers. But within minutes the Arkansas contingent was ordered to stand down and boarded the trucks that would return them to their armouries, leaving the Army of the United States of America to safeguard the constitutional right of every American citizen to an equal, desegregated education.”

Watching for Ruby. Switching from channel to channel, Marsha… and Mitchell Lipensky anxiously watched the early evening and late night news.

With the exception of the fleeting sight of what appeared to be a white man being attacked by a snarling guard dog held loosely at leash by a ‘Little Rock police officer’, nobody else on the black and white television looked as though it might have been Rubidoux Meyers.

________________________________________________

Chicago, Illinois

October 4, 1957

Wanting to change the subject, lifting himself from bed for the third time within a half hour, turning the tuner dial, “What in the hell’s wrong with this thing?”

“I told you, I don’t know, but it’s been making that stupid sound all day. And don’t change the subject, Mitchell. We’ve got to have more money!”

“I’m not trying to change the subject!” Going back to bed, “But I do not want another part time job!”

“ ‘You don’t want another part time job’!” she said angrily. “Then what are we supposed to do for money?”

“We’re managing! We’re getting by!”

“Oh, yes! Sure we are!” Marsha spit back. “But just ‘barely’! And what do we do if something goes wrong, huh? Like all of a sudden…” jerking her thumb in the direction of the television, “...the TV stops working? What the hell do we do if we have to call a repair man for the TV? Where do we get the extra money for that, Mitchell?”

He knew he should, but felt he was the one that always gave in.

Sounding very much like the discussion Marsha and Mitchell had a year ago:

“It’s fall!” he said. “And like I told you, in the fall business starts to pick up! Business ‘is’ starting to pick up and I’ve got some pretty good prospects for a couple of new accounts and we’re waiting for a call for some new factory shots for my old account.”

“But we need more now!” Trying to reason with him, “Mitchie, you said the manager at Field’s liked you. Christmas is less than three months away and maybe they’re hiring, and seeing as you know the stock and all, maybe you can get your old job back for a couple of months, until you get paid for that big one. Why don’t you at least go there tomorrow and see?”

Knowing she was… Oh, God, why’s she always have to be right? “Why’...”—come back with a real smart ass answer—“...because I don’t want to! That’s why!” Oh, yeah, real smart!

“You don’t want to, huh!” All semblance of calm gone. “Why don’t you ‘want to’?”

“Why? Because first of all…

“You’re lazy!” Marsha said. “That’s why!”

“Because ‘first of all’...” Mitchell went on, “...all I’ll get is minimum wage and a bit of commission.”

“Well, in our position, I’d say ‘minimum wage’ is better than no wage!”

“And you say I’m lazy, huh! That’s kind’a like the pot calling the kettle black, isn’t it? ‘I’m lazy’! Tell you what, Marsha! If you think it’s so damned easy to do—to hold down two jobs—then why in the hell don’t you do it? Besides, you’ve got special training to sell brassieres’n’corsets’n’stuff, and they’ll pay you a hell of a lot more than me! Yeah! ‘You’ go get a part time job for after I get home from work and I’ll watch Mikey!”

Actually, this idea appealed to him. “And I’ll tell what else!” Getting off the bed, he attempted to adjust the television. “Don’t even bother cleaning up here! I’ll do it! Then, when all three rooms are clean, oh, say in about a half hour, I’ll go back to bed, too! Just like you!”

“Why don’t you shut up, Mitchell! I told you: I won’t go back to work so long as I have a child that needs me!”

“Why? Mikey won’t miss any time with you! He mostly sleeps in the evening anyway, and I usually help out with him…”—he had been helping Marsha more than in the past—“...when I get home, so I could easily take care of him for the few hours you’d be gone. Most likely he wouldn’t even know you weren’t here.”

“I am ‘not’ going back to work, Mitchell, and that’s final! Taking care of our home and Michael is my job! Earning a living—a decent living—is your job, Mitchell!”

“Okay, Marsha, now that you’ve told me what ‘my’ job is, and what ‘I’m’ supposed to do, and so long as that’s your final word on what your job is, then why don’t you just do it instead of always telling me what to do!” Oh, yeah, really on a roll here, he added, “But to be honest, I can’t imagine that sleeping every afternoon is that much of a job!”

“Go to hell, Mitchell!”

“Screw you, Marsha!”

Once again Mitchell got out of bed, crossed the room and, “What the hell’s wrong with this thing?” angrily twisted the tuner dial but the intermittent ‘beeping’ continued…

Because...

Two things happened on ‘October 4,1957’.

One that affected no less than the future of the entire world… ‘Forever’!

On that day repair men the world over were handed a windfall as a mysterious, electronic beep emanated from television sets and radios throughout the world creating bewilderment… And many calls to local repair men.

It wasn’t until the next day, however, that the mystery was solved when the ‘Soviet Union’ proclaimed that it had launched the first man-made orbiting satellite.

‘Sputnik’ was the name given the 23 inch sphere by the Western World.

The beeps that disturbed television and radio sets were the coded messages of the observations Sputnik made as it sailed through the heavens on the day the world entered the ‘Space Age’.

Also on that day, of ‘somewhat’ lesser significance, an additional head of steam was added to the pressure cooker marriage of Marsha and Mitchell Lipensky.

January 1, 1958

“Want us to hang around, help you guys finish up?”

“Nah, you’ve done enough already, Marcie. It’s our party and Marty and I’ll take care of the rest of it. You and Mitchie go on home.” Rosalie looked at Mitchell, asleep on the sofa. “That’s if you can get him up.”

“Oh, I’ll get him up, alright. One thing about Mitchell...” she said, smiling, “...it’s never too hard to get him up.”

“Yeah, Marty, too. Only sometimes when he gets up, it’s hard to keep him up.”

Looking at each other, wondering if they were both talking about the same thing and, though, not saying so, they were.

“You guys driving out to Skokie to get Mikey?” Rosalie asked as she and Marty saw them to the door.

Pulling his coat on, “No, my mom’s giving us the night off,” Mitchell said. “Thanks for the party, and have a happy new year.”

**** 

“Maybe we should have stayed to help them finish cleaning.”

Even though the temperature stood at below zero, Mitchell had the driver’s side window down a bit so the frigid air would help keep his liquor induced still foggy mind alert enough to drive the few miles from Rosalie and Marty’s apartment to their own.

“Nah, they told us to go and there wasn’t much left to do anyway, only get rid of the card table and folding chairs. Besides...” taking hold of her mittened hand, “...I’m kind of anxious to get home because you know what I’d ‘really’ like to do to welcome in the new year.”

Annoyed, “Yes, Mitchell, I know what you’d ‘really’ like to do!”

Thinking. Rationalising, And maybe I’d want to more often if you didn’t always have to announce that you want to by dropping those stupid hints.

Squeezing his hand. “Okay..” she said, “...if you can stay awake long enough.”

Knowing—especially considering the amount he’d had to drink, that by the time she got out of the bathroom he would more than likely be asleep.

Sincerely said. “Thank you!”

He well recognised Marsha’s tone of annoyance, but felt he’d been rejected so often lately that he would rather drop hints so at least he’d know whether she was agreeable before working himself into an advanced state of arousal than have to face rejection, which invariably led to harsh words or, minimally, another of their hard silences.

And, after all, it was now a new year.

“Oh...” he said, “...in case I didn’t say it yet, let me tell you for the first time in 1958 that I ‘do’, Marcie, I ‘do’ love you!” Also said sincerely.

“Yeah, Mitchie...” said rather insincerely, “...I love you, too.”

****

Mitchell was asleep when Marsha finally—as quietly as possible—slipped into bed.

****

“Marcie!”

Awaking to the ringing of the phone at 9:45 AM.

“Rosalie?” for a moment not sure if her friend was laughing or crying, “What’s so funny?”

Rosalie’s laughter contagious. Having no idea why, laughing, too, “What happened?”

“We… Oh, God! It’s so funny!… I had to take Marty to the hospital!”

“Huh?” Marsha stopped laughing. “ ‘The hospital’?”

Hearing the word ‘hospital’, coming off the bed Mitchell stood alongside Marsha.

“Yeah!” Trying to hold it down, Rosalie’s laughter erupted again.

“He’s all right now, but Marty’s… Oh, God! Marty’s poor…” stopping to catch her breath, “...his poor balls.”

“ ‘Marty’s balls’?” Looking at Mitchell, Marsha shrugged her shoulders. “What about Marty’s, uh, balls?”

“Last night, after you guys left, we’d decided we were going to let everything else go until morning, so we got undressed and, uh…” laughing again, hesitating until she brought herself under control. “We thought that we’d, uh, you know, kind of welcome in the new year. Anyway, while he was waiting for me to get out of the toilet, Marty thought he’d put the folding chairs away. He was closing them, uh, naked, and…” cracking up again, “...Marty slammed a chair closed on his balls and we had to rush him to the emergency room…” barely able to get the words out, “...for a ‘ballectomy’.”

“His balls?” Marsha asked. “Is he okay? How’s he today?”

“ ‘Okay’.” Rosalie said. “We never got to welcome in the new year, though.”

“Yeah...” Marsha said, “...us, too.”

Next FBOW excerpt in sequence: “Human Perception”