PFK1 (46 page)

fucking idiot want?

Right after school got out our freshman year, Chesley brought her

to Danville to meet his parents, before she flew to Hawaii for the

summer.

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Big mistake. Chesley’s mother took an immediate dislike to

Darlene, on account of her being Asian. Not Jewish either, you know.

His mom began snooping through the letters he received (who does

this remind you of?) from Darlene as the summer wore on. In several

letters, she made ill-considered references to smoking dope and

uninhibited sex, which freaked Chesley’s mother out.

Chesley’s mom claimed she had the right to go through his stuff

because he had been busted for hash while at school and was on thin

ice legally.

Seems to me that asshole privacy violators invariably claim special

rights.

Mommy forbid Chesley to have anything further to do with Darlene

and so the weasel quit school up here as a way of breaking up with

her. When Darlene followed him to UC Davis anyway, he put

together yet another scheme to ditch her, this time by returning to

Eugene, finishing out his senior year at the University of Oregon.

One day, Chesley told Darlene he would come to see her the

following morning. Instead, he loaded up his van and moved to

Eugene, vanishing from her life forever. His younger brother said

Darlene called the house many times afterwards, trying to get in touch

him, but always got the brush off from Chesley’s mommy.

What a fucking schmuck. Darlene never did anything wrong.

Everybody else was doing the same thing. Marlene didn’t drink or

even smoke cigarettes. Was kind of straight, actually.

All she did was toke weed at Chesley’s urging and fuck him until

he was limp as a noodle. Her most unforgivable offense, as near as I

could tell, was that she was not white.

In a few hours Chesley will marry Nurse Shirley, a fucking cunt I

am positive doesn’t even like him, let alone love him. A woman who

is nowhere near as classy as Darlene on any measurable scale. Come

to think of it, Shirley is nowhere near his girlfriend Karen Hall either,

who was truly the living model of intelligence, beauty, class, humor,

and refinement.

This marriage is so insane as to be almost laughable. Chesley

discards the best to marry the worst. Irony abounds.

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Ya know what? Methinks he is going to marry a girl just like the

girl who married dear old dad.

It is also very peculiar that Randy is here. Two men in the wedding

party have had carnal knowledge of the bride.

Randy’s penis has previously penetrated Shirley’s putrid pussy.

Mmmm. If only I were more of a troublemaker, I’d tell Chesley’s

mom about it during the reception, especially about the adultery part.

I’d tell his mom that Shirley was the "other woman" last year when

Randy was cheating on his wife, Wilma. I’ll bet that would go over

big. Stir things up a bit. Mmmm. Just thinking about it amuses me

like hell.

Alas, I am only a thought criminal.

* * * *

July 30, 1979

Did not go to work today. I was too burned out from the wedding

weekend. Although twice I offered to drive the getaway car, Chesley

married Shirley after all. I predict three to five years max, but I could

be wrong. Maybe they are well-suited for each other, being both

stupid and selfish. I did try to be convivial, and for the most part I

think I succeeded.

No serious misbehaviors on my part whatever, I am unhappy to

report.

There were a lot of things to observe and many pretty women in

attendance. Chesley’s parents hosted a pool party and we all drank

beer, ate snacks and horsed around in the water. Chesley and Shirley

chased each other like a couple of idiots. If you think Shirley looks

repulsive in her nurse’s outfit, you ought to see her in a purple bikini.

In truth, I think Chesley would be better off marrying that fat girl

Debbie he fucked at his old apartment in NE. At least she was

likeable and sweet natured.

I snapped an extremely unflattering picture of Shirley when she

wasn’t looking. I’ll show it to Schenzler later.

He’ll lose his lunch.

The young women who were at the party were all eager to get

married. And I must admit, there were quite a few nice, pretty ones.

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One particularly lissome blond kept appearing at my elbow during the

reception.

Her name was Sidney Laagelander. A registered nurse, just like her

pal Shirley. However, unlike Shirley, Sidney is slender and attractive,

with pretty blue eyes and looks absolutely killer in a red bikini. Oh

my heavens, yes.

However, it is hard to judge women by their friends. Many of them

have no real friends, I suspect just temporary allies. Actually, Sidney

seemed quite nice, superior to Shirley in every way. She said funny

things and was easy to get along with. I’ll bet she’s an excellent fuck,

too. But so what? I have no interest in any of them, and I’ve had my

share of nurses.

Megan is the woman for me.

Jerry Brown is edging closer to an open challenge of Jimmy Carter,

a captive of the worst foreign policy types. It’s fine with me if Jerry

runs. Ted Kennedy could also jump in. The more the merrier, I say.

* * * *

August 17, 1979

Well, I went to my ten-year high school reunion. As expected, it

was a huge drag, although many of the women are still very beautiful

and many are still unattached.

The latter we can safely describe as desperate. Unfortunately,

Meredith never showed.

I wasn’t there for long, but it was still long enough for Kathy Dunn

to hassle me. She flicked me a bunch of shit about the time when we

were an item at age sixteen, for a period of about four months. We

came close to but did not consummate sexual intercourse.

Okay, so I broke up with her. So what? She was (and still is) very

beautiful, with gorgeous red hair and very lovely large breasts, which,

among other things, she very considerately let me fondle and kiss to

my heart’s content on several occasions twelve years ago. But Kathy

also got way too serious way too fast and, in truth, the girl scared the

bejeebers out of me.

What more can I say?

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Of course I knew perfectly well that you can’t get pregnant from

the stuff we did. Of course I knew.

* * * *

September 11, 1979 Monday

Called in sick. Stayed with Megan over the weekend at her place in

Heceta Beach. Indeed. Any reservations or misgivings I may have

harbored about her are have vanished.

Our physical separation has imbued me with a greater clarity about

us as a couple. A definite sea change is taking place within. I can feel

it happening.

The beach house is very nice and Megan is beautiful beyond

compare. Things are coming together or rather, we are coming

together. Life is amazing. I can’t explain it.

I’m in love with her. That’s a fact. I suppose I am growing up.

There comes a time when you just start growing up.

Megan spent most of the afternoon Saturday in what has to be one

of the world’s skimpiest bikinis. While I listened to the football

game, she lounged on the deck in the sun, wearing this classic

rainbow-blue number that covers only what is required by law and

barely at that.

Before Megan put it on in the bathroom, she got ready to shave

herself.

"I bought my suit a month ago, but I haven’t worn it because I need

to trim this first," she said, pointing to her bush.

"Let me do it," I said.

"You baby," Megan said, laughing. But she handed me the Lady

Electric and I set to work. Of course, I didn’t get carried away,

because I madly love her dark blond pubic hair, but I made sure that

none peeked out from beneath the tiny triangle of blue cloth that

conceals her privates. Had to have Megan try her suit on and take it

off a couple of times to make sure. While I was at it, I also made sure

the whole was nicely trimmed.

Then Megan returned the favor, and my genitals are likewise nicely

trimmed.

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Of course, the deck at her cabin is totally private and I was the only

person privy to the visual display. Megan’s bikini top is so tight that

her nipples show through. Mmmm.

At halftime, I found myself unable to resist untying the string that

connects the bra cups to suck and kiss the sensitive points.

"Look at this," I said, showing Megan my erection. With me

shaved, the hungering beast looks bigger than ever. "Can we do

something about it?"

Megan smiled, stood up bare breasted, and took me into the

bedroom, where she administered much-needed relief.

Driving back from the beach yesterday, I took a leisurely spin along

Poodle Creek Road to Highway 36. The sun was shining like it

always does on these last days of summer, these days of heaven. The

two-lane highway was a keening tarpaulining strip of asphalt that

wound lazily through the verdant woods.

What a gorgeous day.

I lustily sang "Tomorrow Belongs to Me," and pushed the van over

sixty miles per hour, making excellent time.

It was a wonderful weekend.

* * * *

September 17, 1979

Yesterday I asked Megan to find a job up here in Portland so we

can live together. The words just popped out of my mouth. My

instincts told me to ask her, I guess.

The wisdom of the heart. We will be very happy when we are

together, of that I am certain.

On Saturday we went with Chesley to Albany, to attend the

wedding reception of Leanne and her new husband Ricky Fairlane.

Megan drove us in her Volvo. Chesley knows Ricky from their

mutual doper days at college but never went as far down that path as

Ricky did.

The majority of the guests demonstrated a distinct lack of

enthusiasm for the match.

Leanne’s old roommate Sherry took it upon herself to invite

Chesley and me. Sherry is disappointed that Leanne is marrying a

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low-life like Ricky and told me so after a couple of drinks. Sherry

said Leanne showed poor judgment in dumping me four years ago. I

shrugged and said it was all water over the dam or under the bridge or

around the bend or something like that.

Perhaps, as Sherry said, I am the best and nicest man Leanne will

ever attract. But who knows? In retrospect, I am eternally grateful

that Leanne dumped me when she did.

Later on, I spoke with the groom and he seemed pleasant enough, if

a little dissipated. I give the marriage no more than three to five years

max.

Probably less, knowing Leanne.

While Megan was occupied elsewhere, I spoke to Leanne alone.

She wanted to know all about Megan.

"Chesley says you stole her from her husband," Leanne said.

"Chesley is a fucking idiot," I said. "Only last year his wife Shirley

was fucking another woman’s husband. He shouldn’t be pointing

fingers at anyone."

"Don’t get your briefs in a twist," Leanne said, with a grin.

"Chesley wasn’t pointing fingers or being critical. He was just giving

me the lowdown."

Leanne shot a glance to the buffet table, where Megan was pouring

punch for a little girl in a white dress.

"That’s my niece with your girlfriend."

"Hmmm," I said. "Her name is Megan."

"Megan seems very sweet," Leanne said.

"She is. I like her a lot."

"She’s beautiful and I can tell by talking to her that she’s really

smart."

I took a big drink of this very excellent white wine Leanne had

ordered up for the reception.

"Yep."

"So what’s next?" Leanne asked.

"I think we’re moving in together."

"Smart boy," Leanne said, smiling. "I’m happy for you. She seems

like the right one."

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"Thank you," I said. "I’m happy for you, too."

That was about it. Leanne’s wedding was a pretty weird affair,

especially coming as it did on my 28th birthday. Other people haven’t

changed. Only I have changed.

I am afraid of nothing. Nothing at all. I’m happy with Megan and I

am hopeful things will just keep getting better from here on out. Why

I didn’t see my way clear to settling down with one woman before?

Good question.

Emotionally, I simply wasn’t ready. I’m too suspicious of people

to give my heart away easily. I have to go down rocky roads with

them and see how they react. I don’t trust people until I trust them.