Feels Like the First Time (9 page)

“Late Saturday night,” Joy said. “They’ve gone to California for spring vacation.”

Oops. I hadn’t considered the possibility that I might not be the only one who traveled during spring break. Joy offered to let me come to her place and spend the night in her spare bedroom, but I declined. I hung up the phone, and considered the consequences of making a long trip without calling ahead. Then I remembered that this week was more about the journey than the destination, so I didn’t consider the trip to be a waste. I had also written a heartfelt letter and sent it winging on its way home in advance of my return. Now my excuse for being on the road had evaporated and it was time to head for home.

I had mailed that letter early Sunday morning. It was now late Tuesday. I wondered if she had already received it. Did she know how I really felt about her? How long did it take for the mail to get from Long Beach back up to Mossyrock? These felt like the most important questions I had ever considered, but in those ancient days without instant communication, there was no way to know.

I didn’t want to go home and face the unknown reception waiting for me, but I didn’t have a choice. I drove straight to Mossyrock, making the drive in just over nine hours.

On the way home, I stayed awake by tuning into any AM radio station I could find. I heard plenty of classic songs on the trip home–
Baker Street
by Gerry Rafferty,
Sweet Talkin’ Woman
by The Electric Light Orchestra,
Magnet and Steel
by Walter Egan. But more than any other, I heard that great flugelhorn anthem,
Feels So Good
by Chuck Mangione. To this day, I can’t hear
Feels So Good
without remembering that drive, speeding through the dark with my windows down and my radio up.

I pulled quietly into my parking spot between our two houses well after midnight. All was quiet and dark at Dawn’s house. That was exactly why I had planned to arrive home so late. I was giving myself at least one more day before facing my fear of complete rejection
. 

Always and Forever

It was after midnight when I walked in the house, but Mom was still awake, bustling around the living room. She was getting ready for a flower show, and it looked like Mother Nature had ransacked our living room. There were flowers, greenery, and ferns strewn everywhere. When Mom was coming out of one of her black periods, she did better when she had something to obsess over. Flower shows were better than the alternative.

Even though I had been away from home for the first time ever, she was so distracted she barely registered that I was back. She didn’t seem inclined to interrogate me over where I’d been for the last five days. I would have had a hard time explaining my journey to her anyway. I answered a few innocuous questions and slipped away to the quiet darkness of my bedroom.

When I had approached home a few minutes earlier, I had killed the engine on the Vega about a quarter-mile up Damron Road and slid noiselessly into my parking spot. I kept a watchful eye on Dawn’s window, but it stayed dark.

I woke up the next morning with a knot in my stomach, wondering if Dawn had gotten my letter yet. I ambled out to the Vega to clean it out from my epic journey. The car had picked up a little funk from serving as my kitchen, dining room, and bedroom. I had been in the car for less than a minute when I heard Dawn’s screen door slam.

I acted as if I hadn’t heard her come outside. I continued cleaning the Vega and humming along to the Al Stewart song on the radio. Dawn walked up and leaned casually against the door without saying a word.

I was good at reading nonverbal clues after a lifetime of living in an alcoholic household. I turned and focused on Dawn, looking for the slightest reaction. All I saw was her normal, placid face, staring back at me with unwavering brown eyes. I instantly knew she hadn’t received the letter. If she had, I would have detected some sort of reaction. I had stressed about this moment for days, wondering what her reaction would be. Now that I was face to face with her, she gave me nothing.

I wasn’t willing to go on playing the same waiting game. I had to find out how she felt. I didn’t have the emotional wherewithal necessary to have a real conversation about feelings and emotions with Dawn, so I improvised.

“Hey, I’m going up to Auburn today to see Terri and Tommy. Do you want to come?”

Going to Auburn suddenly seemed like a very good plan. If Dawn and I were in Auburn, I wouldn’t have to wait all day for the postal truck to come barreling down Damron Road with my letter. I didn’t think I could stand to be inside my trailer watching Dawn, standing at the mailbox opening that letter.

Dawn was underwhelmed as always. She shrugged and said, “I guess. I’ll go check with Mom.”

She bounced in and out of the house in a matter of moments and yelled, “When are we leaving?”

“Right now. Let’s go!”

I formed a plan while driving north on I-5. As we passed through Olympia, I nodded to a restaurant you could see alongside the freeway.

“That’s The Falls Terrace. I’ve heard it’s a really great place to eat.” I acted like I was a connoisseur of restaurants despite having rarely eaten out in my life. I had only heard about The Falls Terrace after my sister told me about it.

Dawn pursed her lips and nodded. I pressed on.

“I think we should go out to dinner there sometime, don’t you?”

This was such a strange, off-the-wall conversation for two teenagers from Mossyrock to be having that Dawn turned in her seat and looked at me through narrowed eyes.

“Okay,” she said. “I guess so.”

“Let’s go there on April 29
^th
!”

Since this was still March, that was a lot of advance notice for a date.

Dawn’s eyes narrowed further as she eyed me suspiciously.

“Oh, so
sometime
is April 29
^th
?” she asked. “Alright, we can go to dinner there on April 29
^th
.”

What she didn’t realize was that April 29
^th
was the date of our Prom. It would have been easier to say, “Dawn, will you go to Prom with me?” But at that age, I didn’t know how to do things the easy way. My method of asking Dawn out was similar to the game Mouse Trap, in which the goal was to build a complex contraption that did twenty-five different things, with the end result being a cage that dropped on a mouse.

I looked at her, still slightly shaking her head at me and said, “Remember that date. April 29th.” I turned the volume up on 950 KJR and waited for a special song. Just before Spring Break, the Prom Committee decided the theme for Mossyrock High School’s 1978 Senior Prom would be
Always and Forever
. It was a huge hit by Heatwave.

My plan was to wait for it to play, reveal that it was the theme of the Prom, and that the prom was on April 29th. I switched the dial between every Top 40 station on the dial–first KJR, then KING, and then KLSY. None of them was playing
Always and Forever
. It normally played every ten minutes. But, of course, every station seemed to have launched a Heatwave boycott at that moment. I grew worried as I took the exit off I-5 to Auburn. I didn’t have a backup plan if that song didn’t play.

Eventually, we were at the turnoff to Terri and Tommy’s house. I drove past it on purpose, continually changing stations and sweating a little. I drove around Auburn, relying on the fact Dawn had never been there before, so she wouldn’t realize I was essentially driving us in circles. I was just about ready to forget the charade when KJR finally bailed me out. I reached down and turned it up as the notes I’d been waiting for filled the car. We were sitting at a red light, and I turned to her so I could watch her expression.

“Do you like this song?”

“Mmmm-hmmmm.” She sat with eyes straight ahead.

“I do too,” I said casually. “Oh, hey. This is the song that’s going to be the theme of the Prom.”

She frowned slightly. She was starting to make the connection.

“Yep, it is.” I rambled on. “Did I tell you Prom’s going to be on April 29th? Hey, since we’re already going out to dinner that night…”

That moment is forever frozen in time for me. For once, she couldn’t contain her emotions. She widened her eyes and her mouth drew into the smallest of smiles. She inhaled sharply and turned toward me. But I didn’t need to hear what she was going to say. That expression of happiness and surprise told me everything.

“Are you asking me to Prom?”

“Yeah, what do you think?”

She stared at me expectantly.

“Well? Will you go with me?”

Finally, she smiled wide and wrapped her arms around my neck.

“Of course!”

Finally, I knew the answer to the questions that had haunted me for so long. It didn’t matter whether the letter arrived or not. I knew she was with me. I swelled with happiness. It isn’t often you can pinpoint an exact moment when your life changes, but for me it was that moment. The best part was that I appreciated it, even as it was happening. It has lived in my heart forever.

The light changed, and I backtracked the last mile to Terri’s house consumed with joy. Nothing else in the world mattered.

I pulled into Terri’s driveway, opened the door for Dawn, and floated inside. I still hadn’t mastered the art of calling ahead, so they had no idea I was coming.

Terri was home sick from work, but she insisted I bring Dawn upstairs to meet her. I had some trepidation, since Terri was a little unpredictable. I didn’t want to be embarrassed in front of my new girlfriend, but I shouldn’t have worried. Terri was funny and charming, and Dawn relaxed when Terri threatened to break out naked baby pictures of me and Tommy. Tommy quickly suggested we go to Seattle to a Laserium show to avoid potentially fatal embarrassment.

Laserium was held inside the planetarium at the Pacific Science Center, right next to the Space Needle.

There were a few seats in the back, but only old people sat in them for the laser show. Everybody else laid flat on their backs up front, staring straight up at the ceiling. Usually, there was a theme, like
Laser Floyd
or
Laser Doors
, in which they would play a collection of songs while the laser technician flashed laser beams all over the ceiling in time to the music.

Unfortunately, when we called for the Laserium schedule, we found out the first show wasn’t scheduled until 5:00, which meant Dawn and I wouldn’t get back to the Rock until after 9:00, which was pushing our luck. Dawn borrowed the phone to call home and see if we could stay out that late, but Colleen said “no,” which seemed reasonable to me. I’d been a little surprised they’d let me take her on this little adventure at all.

As Dawn was getting ready to hang up, I could hear Colleen’s voice on the other end saying, “That’s a good thing to save for next time.” As it turned out, that ‘next time’ would be many years away.

After watching a movie at the Sea-Tac Mall, we dropped Tommy off and drove blissfully home to Mossyrock. I let my foot get a little heavy on the gas and was cruising along about 75 miles an hour.
My first hint of trouble was when one of the cars I whipped past pulled in behind me and accelerated to keep up. I looked down and noticed my speed for the first time. I let off the gas and eased back over into the right lane, but I was already busted. As I slowed down to something resembling the speed limit, the trailing car pulled up alongside me. It was an orange Datsun 240Z, and the driver was motioning wildly at me.

“Shawn, that guy seems to want you to pull over,” Dawn said with wide-eyed innocence.

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

I had no intention of pulling over. I took a quick glance and saw a red-faced man with a walrus mustache signaling and holding up a badge. I played dumb and shrugged. There was plenty of open road ahead of me and an exit less than a mile ahead. I accelerated again, as if I might be trying to lose the plainclothes cop, but his Datsun easily kept pace with my four-cylinder Vega.