PIT2/3: Reasons & Results.

Points In Time

Westlake Village, Ca.

January 3, 2010

Other than a brief history into the character of the one girl and four women in Mitchell Lipensky’s life; one of whom will ‘possibly’ reappear in the next or the next after the next episode — and what had been revealed earlier is not meant to reiterate what had been written as all can be found in…

Not wanting to be confusing but— if wanted, more ‘in depth’ information can be located in ‘Becoming’(1939 t0 1956) and ‘For Better or worse’ (1956 to 1963) Both*.Amazon & Amazon Prime’) and in the first PIT series. (1986)

The writer will, though, give the time and reasons for each separation and the results in all five relationships to better understand the motivations of …? Actually It was Mitchell himself that caused the life changing ‘break-off’ with two of his potential lifers partners.

Before we begin let me state that the girl and three of the women were noticeably beautiful! Beautiful by anyone’s standard.

One woman:Barbara was not noticeably beautiful or even pretty by anyone’s standard as Barbara’s special beauty emanated from within.

Throughout the — at this time ‘seventy-six years’ of his (semi-fictional) life… Throughout the one girl and four women’s ‘Points In Time’ Mitchell hardheartedly loved Susan and Marsha and Elizabeth and Lita and most ‘certainly’ Barbara.

Being the writer and having an intimate knowledge of all five, I can state—Without a doubt! I can state all five loved Mitchell in return.

So what happened?

This ‘Susan’ submission going back to 1951 and 1952 that I will term as ‘ancient history’ has too much detail that I felt ‘needed’ to be explained before getting to the Reason for the Result.

‘Susan Friedman’:

December 8, 1951 to June 12, 1952

Evanston, Illinois

11:20 AM

Downtown Evanston was packed with Christmas shoppers.

Looking for vacant parking spaces, cars crawled along Chicago Avenue; finding none they turned east or west onto the smaller side streets.

The jingling of bells in the hands of ‘Salvation Army Santas’, though a part of the season, constantly reminded the throngs of shoppers that there was a much poorer life beyond the confines of this wealthy—Northwestern College—college town.

                           ‘Turn a corner. Cross a street.’

Walter Lipensky wanted a cup of coffee.

Gesturing across Chicago Avenue, “There’s a ‘lunch counter’ at ‘Walgreens’.” Mitchell suggested.

“Okay with me.” Myra Lipensky said.

Inside Walgreens. Waiting until three side by side counter stools became available... A frizzy-haired waitress standing on the opposite side of the ‘L’ shaped counter with a pencil poised over a small, green pad; “What can I get you folks?”

“Just coffee, black.”

“You, Ma’am?”

Knowing she shouldn’t but,“vanilla malt, please.”

“I’ll have a hot fudge sundae with chocolate ice cream, please.”

Within minutes, “Here you go.” Their orders arived.

The couple sitting kitty-corner vacated their stools and two women sat down.

The movement caused Mitchell to move his rapt attention from the hot fudge sundae to the lady and girl…

The sundae before him instantly forgotten because ‘then’, at that ‘precise’ moment, Mitchell Lipensky fell totally, completely, in love.

The older woman beautiful but, Oh, God! The girl!

The girl! Obviously the lady’s daughter, the girl immediately reminding Mitchell of the only movie star he’d ever had a crush on: ‘Elizabeth Taylor’.

In Mitchell’s eyes, positively beautiful, the girl was sixteen, possibly seventeen, and as if knowing who she so strongly resembled, the girl’s hair was cut short and styled in ringlets, as was Elizabeth’s in her new movie, ‘A Place in the Sun. From where Mitchell sat he could see she didn’t have Elizabeth’s violet eyes, but the girl’s were a beautiful, light brown.

As he stared at her, the girl’s face turned in his direction and she looked at him.

Their eyes locking and holding, the boy and girl looked at each other for an eternity that lasted three or four seconds, then, hastily, self consciously each looked away.

Nudging Walter, “Dad...” whispering “...see those two women across from us? She’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. I’ve ‘got’ to meet her!” Telling his father, subconsciously to ‘make’ him do it, to keep himself from backing out.

Putting his cup down, Walter looked at the two women, then at his son, and remembering his own youth, centuries ago, so it seemed, “If I were you, I’d sure try,” he said, then added, “Good luck, kiddo.”

Not allowing himself time to think. Standing, committed now, he placed his jacket on the stool and without the slightest idea of what he was going to say, walked around the counter.

Standing between, and a pace behind the two women, his heart pounding, “Excuse me.” his voice, oddly though, was unwavering.

The women and the girl turned towards each other, and the voice behind them.

Oh, God! From across the counter she appeared to be beautiful, but now, standing near her, looking at the girl from a scant three feet away…

Mitchell’s thumping heart jumping from his chest to his throat… Words somehow materialized, and with her mother’s permission, ‘Susan Friedman’ gave Mitchell Lipensky her phone number.

That same afternoon, after a lengthy telephone conversation between Susan and Mitchell, the two made a ‘walking’ date that night to a nearby restaurant for hot chocolate…

Providing ‘first’ to meet Eric and Rose Friedman.

Arriving at the Friedman’s fairly fashionable apartment on Chicago’s far north side at 7:20 PM.

So then began what Mitchell later refereed to as ‘The Inquisition’.

Meeting on the second floor landing, even lovelier now than when they’d met. Barely able to speak, emotion clogging his throat, “Hi,” he whispered.

Crystals of melted snow sparkling in his dark-brown hair. His cold, flushed complexion caused his eyes to appear even greener and… Susan’s breath catching in her throat, Mitchell’s features were more alluring to her now than they had been when she had first seen him sitting across the counter… when she had silently prayed that somehow they would find a way to meet.

The two stood in the hall, Susan in her open doorway and Mitchell just steps below the landing, a distance of about four feet and — as an electric spark arcs from contact to contact, a deeply felt emotion arced from one to the other.

“Hi.”

Jolted by his expression, realizing the depth of his feeling… Realizing the depth of her feeling, attempting to smile. “Hi,” Susan answered back.

“Mitchie...” she said softly “...the sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can get out of here.” Pulling gently, she urged him up the remaining stairs.”

“Mitchie.” How sweet the word sounded coming from Susan’s lips. Looking up, “Yes...” swallowing “...guess we’d better.”

Hands held, they entered the Friedman living room.

Sitting on the sofa, watching as their daughter and the boy entered the room, a glance passed between Mister and Mrs. Friedman.

“Daddy, this is Mitchell.”

“Why don’t you kids sit down.” Mister Friedman motioned to the wing chairs on either side of the coffee table.

Mitchell sat on the chair to the right, Susan to the left.

Clearing his throat, “Mitchell,” Mister Friedman said, “Susan tells us that you’re a senior at ‘Niles’.”

“Yes, sir. Transferred there from ‘Harrison’ last semester.

Writer’s Notation: Hereby began the inquisition.

Never doing more work in school than was absolutely necessary...

‘Well, Mitchell…” Mister Friedman asked “...what are your long-term goals? What do you plan on majoring on in college?”

Uh-Oh! Not expecting this type of questioning .

Waiting for his answer, three sets of eyes looked at him.

Glancing at Susan, who was watching him intently.

Oh, yeah! Uh-oh, indeed! Realizing that this could break it with Susan before it really got started. Remembering a suggestion his father had made some time back regarding college and a career that he had rejected out of hand…

“Photography!”

“ ‘Photography’? In college? What do you mean, Mitchell?”

“My dad owns one of the best commercial studios in Chicago, and I’m…” laying the groundwork for an easily toppled tower of ongoing lies “...planning on going to ‘R.I.T.’. That’s the ‘Rochester Institute of Technology’, uh, for photographic arts…”

“Matter of fact, we were the first studio in the city to do commercial, three-dimensional photography…”

Notation: The ‘only’ time Mitchell had taken any interest in photography was after Walter had shot a series of ‘three-dimensional’ nudes to create interest in three-dimensional commercial photography to prospective male clients.

“How’s your grade average?” Mister Friedman asked.

Uh-Oh!

“Susan’s went from ‘A plus’ to an ‘A’ last semester, but she’s working extra hard to bring it up again. Aren’t you, dear?”

Looking at her mother, “Yes, Mom,” Susan said, then expectantly turned back to Mitchell.

From an A plus to a regular, old-fashioned A!

Exaggerating slightly—mortaring another block onto the tottering tower. “I carry a ‘B’…” glancing at Susan “...’plus’ average, but...” he added quickly “...that’s improving this semester also.” Seeing a look of disappointment on Susan’s face. “Switching schools and all, you know, kind of threw me off.”

Social status and a good college education obviously meant a lot to Mister and Mrs. Friedman and, from what Mitchell could see, to their daughter, too.

Once again the Friedman’s looked at each other, and once again Rose and Eric imperceptibly nodded their heads.

Unnoticed by Mitchell, catching the inflection of her parents’ body language, Susan smiled with relief.

Into the future:

Block upon block!

Weeks into months.

Lie upon lie!

Mitchell did try!

Having the school counselor obtain the ‘RIT’ entrance requirements and — other than school, his part time job and time spent with Susan,Mitchell Lipensky spent every spare moment studying.

At his request the school found him a tutor.

Month after month.

As all the while the tower of lies grew taller.

In an effort not to see too much of each other, and possibly—although it seemed impossible—grow tired of what they did to, and with each other, and maybe—more than just maybe—allow their passion to progress further than Susan might want, but was afraid she would allow, they saw each other only on Friday ‘or’ Saturday nights, and then again, usually, during the day on Sunday.

Which was all right with Mitchell because between school, cramming for his oh-so-rapidly-approaching entrance exam, and his job at the knob factory — with but one telephone call to Susan, each minute of each work time break was spent poring over his books.

Since meeting Susan in December, five months earlier , Mitchell had spent

every possible minute cramming for the exam.

5/29/52

Having confidence he would pass it, on Thursday, the twenty-ninetieth of May, ‘hating’ the lie, telling Susan he was going ‘for a required orientation and to find living quarters’, Mitchell boarded a train in Union Station bound for Rochester, New York.

He returned on Saturday in a highly elated state of mind.

June 12, 1952

4:20 PM

“Hi, Mom! The mail come?”

“Yes, Mitchell, it came. I’ve a cake in the oven, don’t slam the d…” Coming from the kitchen, Myra watched as her son anxiously opened the envelope.

4:35 PM

“Sue, I’ve got to see you today!” Needing to get it off his chest! “ ‘Now’! As soon as possible.”

Wondering at the tone of his voice. “You know the rules. Can’t you tell me on the phone?”

“No, I can’t, Sue. It’s real important, ‘please’!”

“I can’t imagine what could be that important. But okay, when can you be here?”

“Now! I’ll leave now.”

“Okay, but it’s almost dinner, and you know how my mom gets.”

“Yeah, Sue, I know. I’m sorry.”

5:12 PM

“Sue, I’m sorry.” He’d never allowed himself the thought of this moment. “I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t understand, Mitchie.” fighting back tears of both disbelief and

anger. “How could this happen?”

“Sue… Honey, we met each other on a Saturday, and I’ve been studying for that entrance exam every minute I could since that next Monday… And I thought sure I’d pass it.”

“I don’t understand!” she repeated. “If you carried a ‘B-plus’ average you wouldn’t have a problem getting into almost any college! And you wouldn’t have to take a stupid entrance exam! What happened?”

God, how do I tell her? “Sue, I…” his head hanging dejectedly, not looking at her “...I guess I, uh, lied.”

“ ‘Lied’?” Disbelieving. “ ‘You lied’? About what?”

“Sue, on that first night… When I met your folks… I saw how important college was to them…” lifting his head, turning to her “...and you, and…” Tears coming to his eyes. “Oh, God, Sue! I knew that if I…” Sighing. “I lied about my average, and even about wanting to go to college.”

“I asked you if you told us the truth that night!” Demanding an answer. “ ‘Didn’t I’?”

“Yes...” his stomach tightening in fear of losing her “...you did.”

His voice rising in desperation. “But ‘what’ was I supposed to do? ‘What’ was I supposed to say? It wasn’t like I could just walk out of your life, Sue. I loved you the second I saw you! ‘What could I do’? I knew if I told the truth it would be over right then! ‘What the hell was I supposed to say’? You think we’d be sitting here, now, if I told your folks then? ‘No’! You’n’me would never have even gotten started together! You’d have said goodbye to me on that first night and we’d have never happened!”

Taking a deep breath, he swiped his hand over his eyes.

“Tell me, Sue, what should I have done? Should I have told your mother and father that their ‘A-plus’ daughter was about to start dating a dummy?”

“Oh, Mitchie...” turning her face aside, she began to cry “...I’d never think you were a dummy.”

“No! I know you’re not saying I’m a dummy! ‘I’m’ saying I’m a dummy.”

Taking hold of her chin, turning her face in his direction so he might see her eyes. “Sue, right there, right then, when your dad started grilling me about my average and my goals, I promised myself that I’d do ‘anything’ for you!”

Forcing himself to speak slower, to speak softer. “And that’s why I lied, because I’m not a dummy; I’m just lazy. And thought if I worked harder than I’d ever worked in my life I’d be able to do it. ‘Shit’! I had no plans of going to college before I met you!”

His voice rising again, making an effort to bring himself under control. “Hell, Sue, all I ever did was screw around in school before I met you. I never even cared about college before I met you. But then I ‘did’ meet you, and knew that if I wanted to be with you, that if I wanted to marry you someday, I have to go to college! And thought if I worked my ass off, ‘really’ worked my ass off, I’d do it! And also… And I’ve told you this so many times, I really believed—‘do believe’—that God brought us together. And if God would do that—‘bring us together’—then he’d surely help me to get into college so that we would be together… And if I did get into R.I.T., then why would you ever have to know what a complete fuck-up I’ve been?”

Never having used this type of language in front of Susan before. Seeing her wince at the word, fighting for control once again. “I love you so much!” Taking her hand, he kissed her palm. You can’t believe how hard I’ve tried! That’s one of the reasons I didn’t care if I saw you on Saturdays because on Saturdays I was being tutored. God, Susan, I’d do anything for you, honey! Anything in the world.”

Quiet. Concentrating on his every word. “I know you would, Mitch. But what are we going to do about college?”

‘We’! His heart lifting, ‘What are ‘we’ going to do about college’!

“Look, I’ll have no problem getting into ‘Wright’. And I’ll keep working on it! And as soon as I can I’ll reapply to R.I.T.”

Lifting her chin, looking into her eyes again. “Please, baby! Please don’t let this hurt us. I ‘promise’ I’ll make it, Sue. I love you so much I don’t know how I’d be able to live without you, if we weren’t together.”

“It’ll be okay, Mitchie...” caressing his cheek “...I just don’t know what I’m going to tell my parents.”

“Sue, let me do it! I’m the one that lied. Let me talk to them!”

“They think the world of you, Mitchie, and knowing that you lied to them from the start is going to let them down terribly. No, I know how to handle my folks…” really though, she had no idea what she was going to tell them“...I’ll do it.”

“Susan...” he asked “...do you love me?”

“Of course I do!” she answered without hesitation.

“Okay, It’s our lives! We love each other and can’t let this come between us. I’ll do everything I can to get into R.I.T.! I promise!”

Chicago, Illinois

June 21, 1952

11:40 AM

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

He hadn’t seen Susan since saying goodnight to her after

they’d gone to dinner to celebrate Mirchell’s graduation with his family.

With his family waiting in the car—at Susan’s urging he hadn’t yet spoken to her parents. So not wanting to push it. Giving Mister and Mrs. Friedman a little longer to cool off—the kiss in the stairwell was…? Perfunctory.

Yesterday evening, when they had spoken on the phone and made plans to spend Saturday at the beach, Susan had told him, “Mitchie, don’t come up. My mom and dad are still really hurt and they don’t care to see you right now.”

“Sue, you know that I like your mom’n’dad, and it bothers me that they’re still mad at me. I think if I can just talk to them, I’d be able to get them to understand why I did it. Why I had to lie.”

“No...” she answered “...I think it’ll be better if you just let it be a while longer.”

“Okay, if you think it’ll be better that way.”

“I do!”

“Whatever you say, baby… Pick you at eleven, okay?”

“Yes. That’ll be fine.”

“Susan…”

“Yes, Mitchell?”

“I love you.”

“…I love you, too, Mitchie.”

11:05 AM

“Jambalay’an’a’cawfish pie an’a fila’gumbo…”

It was a beautiful Saturday morning, and taping his hands on the steering wheel, Mitchell 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 and leaning across the seat, “Hi, beautiful!” he said through the open window.

Standing, Susan walked slowly to the car.

Rather than a bathing suit and a beach robe, she was wearing blue jeans and a red and white checkered blouse.

“Hey...” looking at her face “...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?” He attempted to put his arms about her but resisting, she held both hands, fists clenched, against his 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?”

“Mitchie…” Opening her hand, she looked down.

His eyes follow her eyes. On her palm there was a gold ring, the ring he’d received for his Bar Mitzvah from his grandparents.

“Sue?” His mind not yet accepting what his eyes saw, lifting her other hand he looked for a like ring, a ring with adhesive tape wrapped around the shank, a ring that looked exactly like this ring… that should be on her finger… But wasn’t.

“Oh, God! Susan, ‘no’!”

“Mitchie… Mitchell, I…” Her chest heaved. Tears welled in her eyes. “I…” The words catching in her throat, barely able to whisper… “I… Oh, God. Mitchie, 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…!” His eyes stinging, feeling a constricting of his throat and within his heart. “Susan, you can’t mean that!”

As though afraid to look at him, Susan’s eyes remained closed.

“ ‘They did it’! Sue, don’t let them! Please, don’t let them do this to us!”

“Mitchie, I’m sorry… ‘Oh, God’!” She looked at him. “Mitchie, please, if you love me…”

“ ‘If I love you’? My, God, Sue, I love you more than anything!”

“If you love me like you say, then ‘please’ don’t try to see me, or call me again.”

She stared at him as though committing his face to memory.

“Please, Mitchie… Oh, God!” Putting the ring on the dashboard, Susan stepped out and without looking back hurried from the car.

Watching her through the a mist of tears. “ ‘Susan’!” Calling after her as she disappeared through the entry door… “Susan’!”

Susan was gone.

The tower of lies crumbled and fell.

‘Gone’? There was no memory of life before Susan.

For Mitchell Lipensky, there was no memory of life before Susan.

Thereafter, throughout the life of Mitchell Lipensky to this very day and ‘every’ day there is the memory and thought of this beautiful sixteen year old girl in blue jeans and a red and whit checked blouse by the name of Susan.

Writers notation: Regarding all of my individual, ongoing submissions, I do try to keep the word count to —give or take, 1,900 words which, in the font I post in (15pt ‘Georgia script) usually comes to about ten well spaced pages.

Covering Marsha pretty well, coming up we will have the Reasons for the Results with Elizabeth Herzon, Lita Warner and Barbara Longford.

However, going into the Elizabeth ‘Reasons’, once again we will have to speak a bit about Marsha Lipensky.

PIT2/4: Cause and Affect #1