Copyright @ calibeachgirl
All rights reserved, 2011
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Chapter 1: Victim of Circumstances
It is not possible to step twice into the same river according to Heraclitus, or to come into contact twice with a mortal being in the same state... Plutarch
The Korean War caught everyone by surprise. Well, not everyone. The North Koreans and the Chinese and the Russians were well prepared for the events that followed. By the time the 1952 elections were competing with the war for the American nation, the country was once again in the grip of war.
During the Second World War, the Los Angeles area, particularly the area surrounding Los Angeles Airport, became the birthplace of modern aviation. By the time the 1950s began, North American Aviation, among others, was producing the first modern jet fighters ... and the plane they produced, the F-86 Sabre, would be one of a long line of designs culminating in the Space Shuttle.
Our story begins on the early evening of Friday, May 23rd, 1952 in the small Los Angeles suburb of Hermosa Beach, California, just a few miles from the main manufacturing plant of North American Aviation at the corner of Imperial Highway and Aviation Boulevard.
It was nearing seven o'clock and Chris was anxious to leave. 'For once,' he thought, 'she's not complaining about going; I just wish she'd hurry the hell up. She's taking longer and longer getting ready.'
He had already 'church-keyed' a can and was sitting on the apartment steps waiting. He was still waiting and well into his third one when Cynthia, 'Cindy' to her friends, finally came outside and walked quickly past him to the car.
He knew she didn't like watching the fights at Clancy's, but it seemed she had just given up and let him have his way, almost insisting that they go.
So much so, that when he met her at the car, he was astonished how much her manner had changed in just a few days. 'That Suzy must be a good influence on her,' he thought, 'but, it seems they are spending a little too much time together.'
Numerous times, he had come home from the factory to find the two of them sitting in the kitchen, drinking coffee and listening to the radio. It wasn't until much later he remembered Cindy was wearing a bathrobe and it was six in the evening.
He stopped for a beer or two at Clancy's before coming home, that afternoon. He would have tried to have sex with her right then if Suzy hadn't been there and later, he was just too tired. He was too tired a lot, these days. 'A man deserves to have a beer or two and just relax after working hard all day on the assembly line building the F-86 fighter.'
He knew the job was important, fighting the Communists but assembly line work was so mind-numbing. 'After a day of that, a man deserves to have a beer or two.'
They'd have to make due with the apartment... saving up for a house of their own. He just couldn't seem to get ahead. 'A couple of beers wasn't going to hurt that much and so, I gambled a little. What was the harm in that?'
"New dress?" he asked, uneasily. 'Where was the money to pay for that?' he wondered. 'We're just getting by as it is and sometimes I only have enough for one beer.'
"This? Oh, no, it is Suzy's. She gave it to me last week."
"Last week..." 'When did that happen?' He just couldn't get his head around it.
"You remember, honey... we went to their house after Clancy's. You and Riley..."
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A week earlier, Friday, May 16th ...
The bar, filled with the grayish-blue haze of cigarette smoke, stunk with the stale smell of spilled beer and dried sweat. Those still sober enough to care were watching the boxing match. The new television rested proudly on a hastily built shelf.
As the black-and-white images lit up the smoke, Chris entered, almost dragging Cindy behind him. He looked around for his friends and saw them over by the men's.
The crowded bar was packed with unmarried men with no women, older men who were wishing they had no women and a few women making money from all of them.
Cindy hated Friday nights. They were always the same.
Instead of going to a movie or dinner, her husband began going to Clancy's to see the fights, eventually demanding she come along. "After a long week of work, a man deserves to have a beer or two," he kept saying to her.
Cindy hated Friday nights. They were monotonous.
Her clothes and hair always smelled of smoke and by the time she felt clean, Friday had arrived once more and it would start all over, again.
The Gillette commercial broke the monotony of the two fighters dancing around the ring.
Cindy hated Friday nights. They were noisy and smelly.
"Chris, can't we go home, please? We could have some fun, baby." She grabbed his arm and rubbed against him, hoping the invitation of her body would somehow get through to his already beer-soaked mind. Not that he would be able to do anything. She sighed; it had been God knows how long since he was able to satisfy her.
"We just got here. Look, Cindy, there's Suzy over there. Why don't you go talk with her?"
She looked over to the corner and finally seeing the woman, walked over. Like herself, Suzy did not look very happy. She had a cigarette in one hand and a beer in the other.
"I was hoping you'd come over," she said, upending the bottle and finishing her beer.
"I'm tired of coming here every Friday night. I thought being married was going to be a lot more fun than this. Sometimes, I wish that..." Cindy let that comment disappear on her lips.
"Let's go outside and talk a little. This smoke is starting to hurt my eyes." Putting the empty bottle on the floor, Suzy ground out the butt beneath her foot and left without worrying if Cindy would follow.
Walking out the side door into the parking lot, the two women felt a slight breeze off the ocean. After the smells and heat of the bar, the fresh air woke them up. The raucous laughter of the men inside faded to annoying background noise they eventually ignored the further they walked again.
They looked for a clean place on the concrete-block wall and finally leaned against Riley's '48 Ford Vicky.
A car pulled up next to them and the man rolled his window down. "How much?" 'Hot little pieces...' he hoped.
"How much for what?" Suzi looked at him and then realized what he was asking. "No, no, you've got it all wrong, we're just out here, talking. Please, leave us alone."
"Sorry, it just looked like... never mind." He drove off down the street, looking for a few minutes of comfort from someone else. "Bitches, if you're not out there you shouldn't be out there."
