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“I wish you didn't, Joey, really I do”.

“Maybe we can go out tomorrow night, and make up for the early night tonight, how's that?”

“Sounds wonderful. Call me in the morning”.

“Goodnight baby”. He leaned over and crushed her willing mouth against his. Their mouths were fused. Their spirits aroused.

“I can't wait until tomorrow night to see you again”, she murmured.

“Me neither, chicken—night”.
Well, well
, Joe thought to himself as he drove away,
starting to make progress all right. They can't hold you down for long Joey boy
.

Lyn saw Joe again the next night, and this night he was even kinder and more sincere than he had been the night before. He was like a hound dog closing in on the prey. And prey she was, only prey, to be preyed upon. His saccharin sweet talk, the way he held her in his arms, the warm caresses with his mouth upon her ear, were all accompanied by frantic searching thoughts beneath.
where can I take her to do a little balling? I guess I'd better tell her I love her. Hope I don't have her hanging on my neck too long after this
—but on the outside he was wonderful, sweet, warm, Joe.

“Well, let's take off from here, hanh? Let's take a romantic drive to some quiet little spot where we can sit and talk”, he said. He paid the check and escorted Lyn out, holding her by the arm. They stepped into the car and slipped out of the city traffic onto the highway.

“Well, you shoulda seen the way the session went today. Five takes were made before the boy in charge picked one. And I'll tell you, it was pretty good, even if I say so. All the guys around the studio told me how good the sound was. Yes sir, make a little room on the top of that ladder boys, 'cause here I come”.

“I hope everything turns out well for you, Joe, I really do”. She turned front and just watched the road slip quickly and quietly under the car. “Where are we driving to, Joe?”

“Oh, a little spot up the river. It's really nice and quiet and romantic there. Is that okay with you?”

“Fine”.

They stopped up on the Hudson, a little shady nook that someone had told Joe about, right near a motel. They sat there, bound in each other's arms for a while, kissing. Lyn was completely given to the moment.

“Baby, I think you're the greatest. Really, I've been with a lot of women before, but you drive me out of at mind”, said Joe.

“Joe, I love you”.

“I love you too, baby”.
Keep shoveling, boy, you've got it made
.

They fell into a passionate embrace which lasted a very long time. At the end of which, Joe whispered to Lyn, “Baby, let's get out of here. Let's go somewhere where we can be alone, and not cramped up like we are in this car”.

“Do you really think we should, Joe?”

“Why not darling?”,
pour it on now, Joe
, “we love each other, don't we?”

“Yes, Joe, yes, but baby …”

“Don't worry baby, just remember that I love you, that's all”.

“I'll try, baby. I do love you”.

The car chirped off the little clearing and sped down the dark road with the red-tinged glow at the far end of it. That red tinge turned out to be a sign over a building: Motel.

In the days and weeks that followed, Lyn saw little of Joe. Not that she didn't see him around, but he was always quite busy. Busy with the boys, with agents, with sessions, with anything that would give him a good excuse not to see her. She, of course, became somewhat dubious as to their love affair ever blooming into anything further. But it did, much to her regret. The seed in her stomach began blooming into a small Joe and Lyn, she was pregnant. The thought of this frightened her almost into hysteria. Her depression was grave, and with each day that went past, each day that the baby grew, so did her terror. The thought of having a baby out of wedlock, the embarrassment, the shame, … oh horrible night that she was mislead by unrequited love. Soon her apprehension took the best of her. She shook herself from her shell, and approached Joe.

“Joe, I …”

“Speak up chicken, the big man won't hurt you”.

“Joe, it's about what happened that night at the motel”.

“Baby, I'm afraid you don't get the idea. I'm not in love with you. It was a mistake. I guess under the influence of the passion. We both fell into something that can never be, that's all. But don't worry, no one will ever know. My lips are …”

“Joe, I'm pregnant”.

“You're what?”

“Pregnant. It's yours Joe. It's your baby. I guess it was a mistake, but there's more to it now. I'm going to have your baby, Joe”.

“Cut the comedy, baby. Joey boy isn't falling for that one”.

“I'm not kidding, Joe. I really am pregnant. I just came from the doctor's”.

“Well, so you're pregnant, it must be someone else's. When it happens fast, it happens often. I may be fast, but baby we were on the deck before I had a chance to make it safe. I'm not that fast a worker. There must be another cat in the woodpile and you're trying to stick ol' Joe with the price tag. Not today, Josephine”.

“You know God damn well there's no one else, Joe, and there never was anyone else either. It's your baby, all right. I can't carry the burden of it alone. I want us to work it out somehow”.

“Work it out! Are you kidding? I can't have any kid following me around. I've got my career to think about. I can't get tied down now”.

“I think it's a little too late for that now”.

“I won't admit it. I'll deny the whole thing. You can't prove it”.

“I was talking to the doctor before, and he asked me who the father was. I told him …”

“Did you tell him it was me?”

“You are the father, Joe, what else could I say. He said I might have a tough time with you, but if necessary, he would perform a blood test for me to bring to court. Joe, I'm not having this baby alone. I mean that”.

“Why you rotten little whore. You think because I went to bed with you once, you own me? Well, you have another think coming, baby, at least one other, and I'm not included in it”.

“Joe, it's going to be difficult enough. Don't make it worse”.

“Worse, you say worse. Man, my whole career … down the drain over a dumb broad and you say things could be worse? Listen, don't do anything crazy. Wait till I give you a ring tomorrow”.

In the time between the conversation and the phone call, Joe talked to and asked the advice of about fifteen people. People ranging from the agent of his profession, to the friends of his boyhood.

“How the hell am I going to get that broad off my back? She's just a slut, probably another guy's kid, and I'm going to get tagged with it. You can fix an abortion for $75 in Cuba? What am I going to do? How can I get rid of her? What can I do, what can I do? If I had only used protection. Oh, man, this doesn't happen to me, not Joe Waters. Why I'm just starting up the ladder. She was going to bed with every guy in the neighborhood. Sure, I know Lefty went to bed with her, didn't you, Left? Well, say you did, anyway, hunh? I wish something would happen. Maybe like she fell off the stairs, or something. I can't stand any more of this aggravation. If only I had been smart, I wouldn't have touched that beast”. On and on, incessantly, Joe drank, ate, slept, and most of all discussed his problem with anyone who would listen to him. He was frantic. His facade was crumbling. Finally, he screwed up enough courage to call Lyn.

“Hello, Lyn. Joe. Listen, baby, I've been thinking about this baby all night and all day. I don't. know what to do. I'm stuck plain and simple. I can't figure a thing out. What can we do, baby?”

“Joe, I've been thinking about it too, and about what you said to me yesterday, about the way you talked to me. I've decided to tell my mother”.

“You told your mother? What did she say?”

“She said that if I married you, or tried to bring you to court, I'd be crazy. On the one hand, I'd only get aggravation, and on the other hand, we'd never be happy. I couldn't live with you, not after what you said”.

“Well, then, what can we do? Listen, I can have a guy fix you for a quick, painless, easy abortion. Lots of big people go to this doctor”.

“Joe, I won't stand to have a baby of mine killed like that, even if you don't care about it”.

“Well, what can we do?”, he screamed almost hysterical with fear.

“I'm going away to have my baby, and after I do I'm going to give it up for adoption. So you don't have to worry, you sniveling rat”.

“Gee baby, that's a great idea. I'll write to you. I'll give you some money to take the trip with. I'll—”

“Joe, you've given me enough of yourself already. I really couldn't use another thing from you. Goodbye, and I hope I never see you, or hear from you again”.

Joe sat with his hand still clenching the telephone receiver, beads of perspiration swelling up on his forehead. “Wow, wow, am I ever lucky. Ha, ha, ha, I'm out of it, and I couldn't be happier. Wow, that was sure close”.

It was many months later, when Joe, driving back to the old neighborhood to visit his mother with some theatrical friend, saw Lyn. He stopped the car and got out. She saw Joe, but said nothing.

“Hello baby, how's tricks? How's everything been going for you? I haven't seen you in ages. How've you been?”

“Fine, Joe, just fine, until now. If you'll excuse me, I have more important things to do”.

“Sure, baby, sure. Didn't mean to waste your precious time”. He looked at his friend to see if he noticed how she avoided him, and got back in the car. “Just some neighborhood hick. She had a mad crush on me, but man, you know how it goes. I had no time to waste on the broad. I put her down real bad, and well, that's the way these little nothings are. They get all broken up about things like that. Come on, let's get to my mother's”.

As the big car rolled past, Lyn looked at the diminishing image of what once was something she relished. A smile angled across her face, not a smile of contempt, a smile of pity.

YOUTH, AN ILLUSION

The blue void of the heavens stretched as far as the eye could see. Below, clouds, soft, white, puffy, fantastically soft looking clouds, formed a floor of this solitary world that Rod Lancoval found himself in. The clouds, too, stretched as far as the eye could see, with fragile wisps and arms lifting, curving, and being blown into nothingness, into constantly changing forms, shaped by the wind, ushered by the breezes, aided by the slipstream of the plane. The sun filtered through the canopy of the cockpit brightly, illuminating the dials, wavering with messages for the pilot. Dozens of them, each with its own small purpose for being. Rod pushed his foot against the left rudder pedal, pushed the stick into position, and watched the horizon of cotton tilt toward the right as his plane fell downward toward its mass, through the fog-like haze, and out into the darker realm of the world below, the world that he had left only a few seconds before. He flipped the radio switch and called to the control tower.

“Franco 350 to Teacher, Franco 350 to Teacher, come in Teacher”.

“Teacher to Franco 350, come in”.

“I'm in position, ready for the run; just give me the word”.

“Will start a count. On zero it's your sky. On my mark it will be zero minus thirty seconds. Mark”.

Rod checked his watch and saw the seconds until zero tick off.

“Twenty five seconds”, the voice from the radio called.

In a few seconds he would begin a 2560 mile race against the clock …

“Twenty seconds”.

… to try and set a new continental speed record.

“Fifteen seconds”.

His plane was capable of speed up to 1400 miles an hour …

“Ten seconds”.

… and could travel the entire distance without refueling …

“Five seconds … four … three … two … one … zero … Go!”

Rod pushed the throttle to full power. The plane wheeled and headed for the land of sunshine—California.

Up over the coast of New Jersey, Rod looked out to see the outline of the Jersey shore. Through the clouds he could see Atlantic City.
Nice town, Atlantic City
, he thought to himself. He had many a good time there, as he did almost everywhere he went.

Why shouldn't he have a good time
, he thought. He could afford it. His Father had made enough money in industrial investments to buy Atlantic City, and Rod, well, Rod knew how to spend money. That is, he did know how to spend before he began to work for Uncle Sam. He had been in the Air Force R.O.T.C. in college, and now Uncle had called him up to serve his tour. The Air Force was good for Rod; it gave him a chance to do something useful for a while, and it gave him a chance to rest up from the hectic way of life he followed as a civilian. Although he'd never admit it, he even liked the service a bit. He had a good assignment, one that he liked. He loved speed, and here he was flying 1200 mph.

Not bad. Right on schedule
, he thought. He checked in with the signal tower in McKeesport, Pennsylvania. It was a strange feeling to be flying so fast, … so fast that he could beat the sun in a race to California.
Now that's something! Beating the sun to California, or anywhere, for that matter
. Springfield, Illinois signal tower reported clear weather ahead.

Still on schedule
, he thought.

His mind began to wander, trying to pass the time, even though it was such a little time, and he had so much to do. He began to think of the speed at which he was travelling.
Took off at 09:06, and I should arrive in two hours. Two hours if I open this plane up, that i'
. He pushed forward against the throttle lever—open full. The air speed indicator edged up to 1350 mph.
Now in two hours it will be 11:00 hours, Eastern Standard Time, but Pacific Time it'll be 08:00 hours. That seems so crazy
. He looked at the chart strapped to his left thigh. “That's what time I'll get there”, he said aloud.