Second Change

How would our life have turned out differently, if we had a chance to be sent back and do a 'redo' on an immature, cruel, and hurtful mistake? Sometimes circumstances come together to present choices... paths to who knows where.

What different path might we have subconsciously taken? How would our life, and those lives around us be different.... Better?.... Worse?... The same?

God knows that I've got a laundry list of mistakes that I'd love to have a redo on. This is a story on one such 'redo'.

This is a really slow build; through the whole 'coming of age process' High School drama and then coming together. It's kind of long, as I couldn't find a convenient place to break it up.

All sex is between those 18 and older.

Present day.

Lying in the quiet dimly lit room; watching and listening to the blips on the screen followed by soft beeps with every beat of my heart, my mind moved in and out of consciousness.

One would have thought that in one's final moments that the mental images that formed in your head would be of joyful memories of your life: your wife, sons, granddaughters, and family.

I think that I was a good dad; a soccer coach for each of my sons. School science projects. Helping and guiding them through their homework and then later in life. I know that they loved and respected me.

I was a shitty husband.

My then live-in girlfriend got pregnant so I did the right thing and we got married. We were opposites, like fire and water... one was insecure and emotional and the other, well let's just say that the other was sure of himself and had a strong-willed personality.

We went through some trying times, what couple doesn't? Got the seven-year-itch and had a three-year-long affair with a divorced co-worker who was probably 10 years younger than I was. I was a selfish asshole. We worked through it and stayed together mainly for our sons. Over the years it was like we were just 'roommates'. Our sleeping patterns forced us into separate bedrooms and our sex life evaporated. We told each other that we loved each other... but.

Instead of any of those memories, a memory of a young teenage girl formed. It wasn't a 'happy' memory, and it was all my fault.

Her name was Rita. We were starting eighth grade in the new Junior High that had just been built. I knew of her, from the previous year, but that was about it. She went to the same Church as I did. Sat in the same Sunday School class, and was in the same Confirmation class, along with about 25 others. I tried to get close to her during various activities. To have her notice me. She was never interested.

I liked her and wanted her to like me, but it was like I was invisible to her. So, being an inexperienced and barely a teenager, I did something stupid to try and get her attention and wound up with her hating me. I know that's a strong term, but it was true. It was mean and hurtful. I don't know what I was thinking or how doing what I did would accomplish my goal.

Briefly, she had dropped her books in front of a group of us guys. Somebody called her 'Clumsy Rita'. The crowd that had surrounded her laughed. In the days that followed the rest of the guys soon forgot that cruel name. I didn't. I tried to make a joke about it.

In 20/20 hindsight... I would have hated me too. Like I said... I was an immature and barely a teenager.

The soft beeping started to slow, followed by periods where the regular beeping would stop for two or three missing heartbeats, and then start up again. All conscience sense of time had ceased, but it seemed like the sound of each beep was becoming weaker and the periods of silence between each beep had gotten longer.

In an almost distant haze, a foggy image appeared at the side of the bed and spoke.

"Not quite what you had pictured your last moments to be like, is it, my son?"

"Mom?"

"Yes. I'm here. You were probably imagining a distant white light and being drawn to it. Everyone's different. Mine happened so suddenly that one moment I was sitting in my chair, the next moment I was standing, and looking at my earthly body. Your dad just went to sleep one night and never woke up.

"We've all done things that we knew that were wrong or cruel and hurtful. Nobody's perfect. There was only one person on this earth who was perfect, and look at what WE did to Him. But sometimes we're lucky enough to be given a chance to go back and maybe; just maybe, fix one wrong in our life. One moment of cruelty. To

maybe

take a different path to a different life. The mind is a funny thing when it knows that the end is near. That's why you're thinking only of her at this moment... Rita.

"Yes, I remember her too. She was a nice girl. I knew that you liked her, but I saw that she never gave you the time of day. Something told me that you had done something to her and she never forgot or forgave you. I don't know, and I don't want to know.

"You're going to have a chance to atone for your cruelty to Rita... a second chance at life. You may not think that you deserve it, but you may have an opportunity to find happiness... Yes, I know that you're unhappy; mostly due to your own actions. But maybe... just maybe, this time she'll notice you for what you are... for how you were raised... a genuinely nice and caring guy.

"It will all be your own actions or inactions. Your own thoughts. None of these last few moments will remain with you.

"Good luck.... My son. I love you."

..................................................

1962. In a small dairy town in the midwest.

"Bill, you'd better be getting up. Your summer vacation is over and today is your first day of eighth grade in the new Junior High. The weather looks good, so it should be a nice day for you to ride your bike to school."

Over the summer, I had picked up a paper route from the older kid who delivered the paper in our neighborhood. He was going to be a sophomore and wanted to do sports after school, instead of being stuck with a paper route. Besides, having a paper route for a high school kid was not cool.

This was an evening paper. So instead of having to get up in the dark and deliver papers before school, I could ride my bike to school and then go pick up and deliver my papers.

Bundles of this particular paper were delivered from the distributor directly to a lady's house, Mrs. Brown, by late afternoon. About eight guys would stand around a makeshift table in her basement, fold their papers into a tight tube, load them onto their bikes, and then deliver them to their customers. Most had maybe twenty... I had forty-eight, the largest of the group. My paper route covered about four miles on the southeast side of town and it usually took between an hour and a half and two hours to deliver... six days a week... rain, or shine. Snow or cold.

Back then, for most of my customers, I could simply ride by and toss the folded paper onto their porches from the sidewalk, except for rainy or snowy days when I would have to stop, get off my bike, and slip each paper inside the door. That just added to the time. I hated rainy days. Riding my bike in the rain. My face getting all wet. Muddy water splashing up on my jeans.

My plan for the coming school year was to ride my bike to school as often as I could, then afterwards, go directly by Mrs. Brown's house, get my papers, and then head out, putting me at home around 5:30, or so. It wasn't that big of a deal, the school was maybe a bit over 2 miles from where I lived with a bit of an up-hill grade the last half.

The town had built a new Junior High school the previous year for the sixth, seventh, and eighth graders. Previously, the sixth grade was in the elementary school, and the seventh and eighth graders were in the high school. We were part of the 'Baby Boomer' generation so classroom sizes were becoming a problem.

The neighborhoods surrounding the schools were a mixture of old established houses, that had been built in the 1940s and newer ones between the High school and the new Junior High that were probably built in the 1950s, so it was relatively new. The newer neighborhood had more kids than the established one.

It was probably the third or fourth day of school, about a quarter of a mile from the Junior High when I came up behind a group of kids, who were in my class; two girls and one guy: Rita, Barb, and Jack. Until this year, I had never ventured into this part of town, as there was no need to. So, I never knew that they lived in this area of town.

I knew all three of them. I mean with less than 100 kids in our whole class, you pretty much got to know everybody as you generally shared one of the elementary grades with almost everybody.

Rita went to our church, so I kind of knew her from Sunday School, but that was all. I had an English class with Barb and Jack was in my PE class. I got a bright smile from Barb, a nod from Jack, and an acknowledgment smile from Rita.

Both Barb and Rita were petite blondes with eyes as blue as a Robin's egg. As was the norm in the 60s they each wore a skirt that came to their knees. Both girls were quite petite and Jack was a solid guy, who would most likely be a running back on the football team once in High School.

The school kept our lockers in the hallway segregated by grade. I don't know what, or how, it happened but I heard a commotion a few lockers away from me. It was a bunch of guys laughing and staring at a blonde-haired girl on her knees picking up her books and papers that she had somehow dropped. A brief parting of the crowd and I saw that it was Rita.

Pushing my way through, I could tell that she was embarrassed, first by dropping her books, and then at the unwanted attention.

Then I heard one guy laughingly saying, "Clumsy Rita... Clumsy Rita."

There were a number of snickers that could be heard.

I knew the guy, Roger, as he was in a few of my classes over the years. And, yeah, he was a jerk and a bully. I never liked him, and pretty much stayed away from him. It seemed like 'trouble' always followed him.

Stepping up along her side, and glaring at the jerk, "Hey, why don't you just leave her alone?"

A smirk appeared, and then in a taunting voice, "Bill's got a girlfriend... Bill's got a girlfriend."

Looking back at the smirking jerk, with a smirk of my own.

"You know, the last time I heard something like that, I think that I was in first grade."

That got a few snickers from the gathering crowd, as the smirk was replaced with a glare.

Watching as he and a couple of his cronies turned, and strutted down the hall, I breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing I wanted, or needed, was for there to be a brief shoving match. Not a good way to start the school year by probably winding up in the principal's office.

Stooping to help Rita gather her stuff that was still scattered about, she looked over and gave me a warm and grateful smile. While she never came out and verbally thanked me, the smile was all that I needed. It was a first; at least I wasn't invisible to her anymore.

The next couple of days, I got a little ribbing from some of the jerks in the PE showers, "Bill's got a girlfriend."

I just let it pass.

A few days later, I found Rita walking to school by herself, stopped, and walked my bike next to her. For the first time, we were alone together. We walked and talked about nothing in particular for a couple of blocks.

Then silence for a few moments as we just walked.

And then in a soft voice, "I never really thanked you for that morning a few days ago, when I dropped my books and stuff in front of everybody. I was so embarrassed. And then Roger calling me 'Clumsy Rita' in front of everybody. Nobody said or did anything until you came up and stood next to me and told Roger to leave me alone. He taunted you that you had a girlfriend before turning and leaving.

"Then you got down on the floor next to me and helped me pick up my stuff, never saying a word. You didn't have to do that... any of that. I mean before that, I never really talked to you. Even at that moment, I didn't know what to say. You just looked over at me with those hazel-green eyes of yours. I had never seen eyes that were so green."

I had been looking at her since she started talking. The whole time she looked straight ahead, never making eye contact. As she finished, she slowly turned her head and those Robin-Shell Blue eyes looked back at me along with a warm smile.

"It's been in the back of my mind since then, and in the last few days, it's got stronger... that I never thanked you. So, I just want to say it, and for you to know that I mean it... Thank you, Bill."

I couldn't help it, my heart swelled. The secret crush of my life talking and thanking me.

"Rita, I was glad to. I just happened to be there right at that time. I'm usually in my first class, but I left my homework in my locker. I never do that, but that day I did. You're right, we never talked. Don't know why. It just never happened. We had a different group of friends, even at Sunday School or in our church Youth Group. I always liked you. From a distance, you seemed to be smart, carefree, funny, and.... Umm... cute."

She had been looking at me as I spoke with a soft smile that became broader on that last word.

"You thought I was cute? I'm skinny. These ugly glasses and no curves, unlike a lot of the other girls in our class."

"Yes, Rita... I thought and still think that you're cute."

Her smile stayed with me and brightened my whole day... the whole week, and the next week. I had a new friend. And what made it even more special was that she was one who I thought that I was invisable to.

........................................................

Because of my paper route, I rode my bike all winter; the only one in the whole school. On really cold days, like single-digit temperatures and below, I would take the bus and walk my route. I didn't like doing that. I had 48 papers to carry. They were heavy, and I got home much later and it was dark. So I tried not to do that very often.

Quite often, when I walked the route, my dad would find me on his way home from work and would drive me around as I stuffed the papers inside their doors. I think my mom was instrumental in that, as one time I came home with a mild case of frostbite to my toes.

Rita knew my routine. So, I was pleasantly surprised when one day, she suggested that if I rode my bike and could get to her house ten to fifteen minutes before she would normally leave, that I could come inside to warm up a bit. Then we could take the 10-minute walk to school together. As always, it gave us time to talk about classes, make jokes about our teachers, and any drama that was going on among our classmates. I mean eighth graders going through puberty and all, especially girls there was always drama coming from someplace.

It always felt good. We were becoming good friends.

So, that's how the rest of the school year went. Over the summer, the only time I saw Rita was in Sunday School. Our eyes always found each other's and there was still a warm smile as she hung out with the other girls in the class.

....................................................

My freshman year was pretty much a repeat of the previous year: school, paper route, and homework. Only now I was in the high school building. Unfortunately, Rita lived on the opposite side of the high school and now with only a 5-minute walk. The direction that I came from didn't go through her neighborhood anymore, so those morning walks together disappeared. But, we still shared a couple of classes, which was nice.

Sitting next to each other toward the back of the classroom, gave us a few moments to visit at the start of each class. And there was always that warm smile.

I remember that she never ate in the school cafeteria. Being only a 5-minute walk to her house and a 30-minute lunch period, she would always leave school and go home for lunch. Don't know why and I never asked.

We had been kind of keeping our friendship just between us, so as to not draw any unwelcomed attention. Still, her close girlfriends knew. So it was, and it wasn't, surprising when one morning before our first class, Rita passed by me in the hallway, pressed a note in my hand, and kept walking.

Immediately after taking my seat in my next class, I read the brief note.

'If you're interested, meet me by the parking lot door at the start of lunch. We can go to my house for lunch. I'm buying.'

It became a pleasant weekly event. Every Wednesday, we'd take a walk to Rita's house and have a simple lunch together. It was nice to be away from all the noise and drama of the cafeteria. It gave us a chance for some quiet time together. Both of our moms knew about our Wednesday lunches and were fine with that. They trusted us. Besides; our friendship was nowhere NEAR that level. I mean, yeah, hormones were raging through our changing bodies, but we never looked at our friendship in that light. Don't know why, we just never did.

Time went on.

There were a couple of Saturday night school dances. I went to a couple and Rita went to a couple. Being a freshman, with no driver's license, meant that my parents would always have to drive me to pick up my date, then to the dance, and then back home.

For some reason, we never went together. I think it was because I was slow and unsure of myself, and Rita already had been asked and accepted before the thought even entered my brain. Still, during our Wednesday lunches leading up to and following the dances we would always share any gossip and/or drama. Like who was going with who... the 'Odd-couples'. We even shared details about our own dates; the good parts and the 'just ok' parts. For each of us, it was a first.

As freshmen, we couldn't wait for the following year... the year that we could get our driver's licenses. Freedon. Dating. Fun.

................................................

The summer before my sophomore year, I found a kid along my route and handed it off. I was done with the cold, the rain, the heat and humidity, and mostly the hassle. Plus I wanted to give high school sports a try.

I should have saved my time. I was an OK athlete in PE, but not even close to being varsity level in anything. I tried wrestling but for just one year. It was only one year as the guy I had to beat out for a position on the team was so good, that he would be going to State in his Senior year, so I just finished out the season with a couple of exhibition matches, in which I pinned the guys.

The only thing that I was decent at was track... running the mile and that was too much work for never placing. The only reward was I got a Junior Varsity Letter, and I was fine with that.

We kept up our 'Wednesday lunches' and spent the first couple of weeks just getting caught up, as we hadn't really seen each other very much over the summer.

Rita got her Driver's License in February. I had to wait until April. Still, it would be a while before either of our parents would feel that we had enough experience to let us drive without them sitting in the co-pilot seat.

The first week in April was our first outing together. It would be three of us: Rita, her best friend Barb from down the street, and myself. The three of us going out as a group erased any concerns of the parents that things could head off in a misdirection, given how close of friends we were. None of that ever entered my mind or imagination.

Being the first part of April, it was still chilly out so they each wore jeans and loose sweaters. They were each still waiting for their young bodies to catch up. Still, each of them was very cute in their own way.

They surprised me when I got into the car with a cupcake and a candle. They sang 'Happy Birthday' and I got a light kiss to each of my cheeks followed by bright smiles.