Hot Winds Blow in San Bernardino

Hot Winds Blow in San Bernardino

100 degrees in the shade was different in 1960

By Ms. Pamela Lightener

Relentless blasts of hot desert air rocked the city bus rumbling north on D Street as sand punished the windows, keeping them shut tight. I was sweating though my work shirt and jeans in that rolling metal box, and as I looked out the left side tumbleweeds flew by, headed south. These were the infamous and hated Santa Ana Winds I had been told about.

I live in a goddam episode of "Wagon Train,"

I thought, miserable after a long day on the receiving dock. Out on the sidewalk a yellow cat got lifted a foot in the air, then hit the blazing sidewalk and darted off between buildings.

This new bus driver must have been last in his class, because he was busy making hamburger out of the gears and jolting us back and forth as he earned while he learned. The baloney on white I had at lunch didn't care for the ride much either, but at least it didn't make a return appearance.

I had to admit Carole was right when she said we needed to get out of Huntington Park in Los Angeles County. I made OK money but she could only work part time, and we couldn't stand the rent that close to the city. So we ran out in the middle of the night, late two months but giving up the last month and security, so I didn't feel too bad about it. That's why they make you front it.

So here we were in this backwater shithole 60 miles east. We weren't technically in the Mojave Desert but you couldn't prove it that day. It was a hard choice, but for people like us life is just a series of hard choices.

Two punks got on at the next stop, dumb enough to own leather jackets out here but smart enough to be carrying them. Hair grease, DAs, studded belts, the whole nine yards. They probably saw themselves as Brando in "The Wild One," but all I could make out was two skinny losers, and when they sent attitude my way, what I sent back with one look made them take their seats like good little boys. I have never been accused of being subtle.

It said "Patricia" on my birth certificate, and when I was little Mom said I was Patty, but I only remember being Pat. The scale at the Rexall said I was 175 or so, and I could look most of the men around here in the eye. I kept my short blonde hair under a cap most of the time because I didn't need any more funny looks than I already got. It would have been fun to tell the punks that they got put in their place by a girl, but I've learned not to look for trouble because I get enough of it looking for me. Minding my own business has become one of my favorite pastimes.

Carole was my "roommate," or my "cousin" or whatever depending on what we needed to tell people who won't mind their own business. She was actually my sweetheart and we loved each other for almost four years. She was the only one I ever loved and the only one who ever loved me. You can take that or leave it.

I was supposed to put her on a Greyhound the next morning to visit her sister Gwen in Escondido like she did every year. They didn't get along very well since Gwen figured out Carole was "that kind" of woman, so it probably wasn't going to be a long stay. But you never know.

"She's still my sister and my only family since Mom passed," insisted Carole that morning. "We don't have anyplace for her to sleep, and she wouldn't come up here to visit us anyway, Pat. So I have to go. Please don't be cross."

Carole had this annoying habit of always being right, and so I was looking forward to lonely nights in our one-bedroom apartment above a row of garages on an alley until she got back.

The next stop was mine, and I passed by the punks, almost hoping one of them would get smart with me, but they didn't. Like Carole just seemed to radiate sweetness and love, I seem to broadcast free knuckle sandwiches. I got out and left the driver to whip up a nice rebuild job for a mechanic.

The sidewalks were mostly empty, people generally opposed to getting blown into the street or sandblasted. I hustled to the door of Ray's Bar and went inside. "Shut the damn door!" several voices yelled and I pushed it shut and latched it. A cold Hamm's was on the bar when my butt hit the barstool because I was a regular after work and Ray liked me. Paying cash and tipping might have something to do with that and I put 35 cents on the bar. Like all neighborhood bar owners, Ray had to extend credit to keep customers, but he didn't like doing it. I didn't want to owe anybody anything.

Funny story: The name on his liquor license is actually George Georgiades, but when he bought the bar the sign said "Ray's" and he couldn't afford to replace it. So eventually we just started calling him Ray. The guy he bought the bar from was Irv Pritsker, who actually bought it from the real Ray. We called Irv "Ray" too.

The first half of the beer washed the grit out of my throat, and then I nursed the second half, enjoying what Ray had added to his tavern: A box air conditioner in the wall, noisily laboring to push out something a little less miserable than the air outside. When he didn't raise his prices, business increased by about a third, which soon paid for the box. Smart.

Ray came by and so quick nobody else noticed it, he put a head on my beer and winked at me going away to serve other customers. He's a good guy. And damn that cold beer was great.

I took my time before going back to poor Carole in our steam bath of an apartment, and I'm not proud to say that my thoughts drifted to Penny, who pretty much ran the office upstairs where I work...

*

The first time I saw her I thought, young Rita Hayworth. Gorgeous red hair, brilliant smile, and what a figure. What was she doing here working in this dump and not in Hollywood making movies and marrying some big-time producer and getting drilled by the pool boy? But here she was.

She had finally got promoted to Assistant Office Manager after doing her own work and most of the Office Manager's work for months.

There was some gossip at the time she got her promotion last April, with some of the catty broads upstairs saying she was probably performing some "special overtime" for Mr. Spindle in addition to her regular job. I'd heard it too. I caught the biggest blabbermouth, Gladys, in the lunchroom when I started to hear the rumors getting repeated by my guys on the dock. I put an end to that first, and went upstairs.

Gladys seemed surprised when I started up a conversation, because usually I ate at a table with my crew, or sometimes just on the dock. In the middle of that tense conversation I said wasn't it great that Penny finally got her promotion, and you know the dumb broad couldn't resist telling me what she thought, which is what I wanted her to do. That was my chance to set her straight, so to speak.

"You know, Gladys, that's some really nasty stuff you're spreading around the company. Just because you're not great at your job, and you're jealous of Penny because she's so good-looking, doesn't mean you ought to be tearing down that girl's reputation. Didn't your mother raise you better than that?"

Gladys took a half step back and didn't know what to do, with someone like me confronting her. A plain woman in her mid-40s without a lot going for her, she wasn't very popular in the office anyway and gossip was her only real skill. She wasn't used to being talked to like that, especially by someone who didn't give a shit about what she thought of her. After all, all the gossip about me had already been repeated dozens of times and ran out of steam long ago.

"I bet you can't point to one time when Penny and Mr. Spindle have ever been in his office with the door closed, can you? And the blinds on his windows are always pulled up too. I know that because way back Penny told me that was going to be her rule just to stop this kind of crap from getting started.

"And you know where Mr. Spindle goes after work every night? Not out with Penny or anybody else, because Mrs. Spindle keeps him on a tight leash. She drives him to work and picks him up at quitting time. You know that. So how about you put a cork in it and let's all be friends, what do you say?"

I smiled in a way that was not the least bit friendly.

"I don't know what you mean, Patricia. Now please leave me alone, will you?"

"Sure, Gladys. I'm glad we had this time to clear the air."

Penny stopped getting snide looks from the upstairs folks, and we all got past it. Penny and I had a laugh about my talk with Gladys when she dropped by the dock.

"Boy did she change her tune, Pat. She calls me "dear" now and wants to be buddies. Ugh -- no thanks."

"She's a real pip, that one," I agreed. "Glad to help. I know you're not that kind of a girl and it got on my bad side. I didn't even try to scare her, but sometimes this (gesturing toward all of me) can be intimidating to people."

"Well, I think you're sweet." And she raised up on her toes and pecked me on the cheek. I turned as red as the stop sign on the corner. She winked and went back upstairs. I couldn't get her pretty face out of my mind for a long time. I still remember how great she smelled that day.

A few months later it was payday and Penny made the rounds handing out our checks. She didn't even seem to try that hard but damn, she was so fine in a sleeveless cotton blouse and skirt, with those legs you could die for and no hose on a day like today. She didn't need any help from stockings since her legs are so tan and smooth. My stomach tightened a little as she approached me.

"Hey, Pat. Here you go. Oh my, it's gotten so hot! You guys work so hard down here, uh, I mean you

and

the guys. Sorry." She gritted her teeth in apology, looking adorable.

I laughed. "That's OK, Penny. No offense taken. You look good today, I mean you always look good, so...you know I'm not always looking but..." I didn't know how to finish that so there was an awkward silence.

"Well, thank you so much," Penny beamed, with a cute giggle. "Aren't you nice! Are you stopping by Ray's after work?"

"Yeah, pretty much every day. You know he got air conditioning, so it'll be a little better. But then back home, you know."

"My landlord installed those in our apartments, and it makes a lot of difference," said Penny. He raised the rent, but I don't mind. It's worth it I think. I don't sweat through my nightgown right after taking a shower at night anymore. I'm always taking showers with this heat so bad. It's sometimes not even worth putting clothes on, you know?"

"Sounds great," I thought, picturing Penny stepping out of the shower.

"Well, see you." And she turned to find the others to give them their checks, and I tried not to stare too hard at her legs and that rear end as she walked briskly away. Oh man. Be good, Patricia, I said to myself...

*

Then somebody put a nickel in the jukebox and "All I Have To Do Is Dream" by the Everly Brothers came on loud, shocking me out of my own dream and back to my barstool at Ray's.

I thought about breaking with my habit and asking Ray for another Hamm's just so I could daydream about Penny some more, but I felt bad about Carole waiting for me at home and instead waved at Ray as I headed for the door. I do love that girl so much, I should be ashamed, I lectured myself. I was serenaded by another chorus of "Shut the damn door!" as I left for home.

The fucking Santa Anas hadn't quit yet, so put my cap over my face and peeked out as best I could as I staggered down the street. It was less than two blocks to our place, and climbing up the outside stairs to our door wasn't much fun as I almost got sent over the side on the landing. Fighting to get the key in the lock I finally stumbled in and closed the door hard behind me. It was just as hot in there as it was outside, since it had been closed up all day.

You can't even open the windows at night when the winds are blowing unless you want to spend the next day cleaning up all the fine dust and sand off everything, and I mean everything. I didn't need to learn that one twice.

"Its' me!" I shouted.

"Better be. I'm naked!" came the reply from the bathroom. And there she was, because Carole always told the truth, naked in the bathtub trying to cool off.

"How long have you been in there?"

"Since I got home from work, so a couple of hours." Carole could only work part-time. She had all these medical things and she got tired fast, so she just went into the local thrift shop for maybe 15 hours a week. So I pretty much supported us. It bothered her but I didn't mind.

"You look like a prune. My girlfriend is a fruit." Actually, she looked as cute as a button. Short dark hair, barely 5 feet tall, and petite. I could easily pick her up and move her around, which was fun, but I had to be kind of careful. I had to keep from getting too worked up when we make love.

"You just figured that out, Einstein?"

"Hey, can I get in there? I'm pretty foul from work and getting blasted by the damn wind."

"Sure, baby."

Carole got up in the tub, wet and slippery, and looking like three kinds of dessert. She got out and dried off a little, but stayed damp to keep the cool going. I stripped off and got in, groaning as the secondhand bath water soothed my overheated and tired man-like body.

She looked tired. She had been down in the dumps about going down to Escondido but she was determined to make the effort. She wasn't going to be the one who cut off contact. I knew I couldn't talk her out of it so we just didn't talk about it.

With that and her medical stuff acting up we hadn't gone to bed and been lovers for weeks. She just wasn't up to it and I didn't press her. Once I just did myself while she was sleeping, thinking about Penny. It was hard not to keep thinking about Penny. Had she been flirting with me, I wondered? I dismissed the idea as stupid. I had been around enough mirrors to know that wasn't happening.

So we had Swanson TV dinners and sat around in bath towels and watched Wagon Train. There were tumbleweeds in that episode and we both laughed pretty hard at that since I told her what I'd seen on the bus. Later, Hawaiian Eye was on and we imagined we lived on the beach in Hawaii, with tropical breezes and drinks with umbrellas and plenty of money to throw around. We couldn't sleep and so we watched anything until the test pattern came on and the picture went dark, and then we lay in bed for an hour or so, finally getting some rest. I wanted some love but it wasn't the right time.

We both felt like shit the next morning, but managed to wash again and have a bowl of corn flakes and some coffee. Carole was already packed, and we didn't talk much. Finally we had to get going to the bus station and the damn winds were still as bad as ever. I took her suitcase and helped her down the stairs, and held onto her tight as we made our way six blocks to where the Greyhound terminal was. She was exhausted when we got there, and I was worried about her traveling alone.

"It's only a few hours, Patty," she assured me.

Escondido is almost 100 miles south of San Bernardino, which is about four hours on the bus, with stops. I made sure she had lunch, plenty of cash, and some change in her purse for phone calls. Gwen knew she was coming in tomorrow because they set the date months ago like they always did. Their usual routine was to have Carole call Gwen from the bus station and then Gwen would come pick her up. When Carole was ready to come back she would call me to let me know the bus she would be on.

We waited quietly until they called her bus, neither one of us feeling all that affectionate at the moment. I was even a little mad at her for not loving me. But when she stood to go I took her shoulder and turned her around, holding her close. "I love you, baby."

We're so lucky that girls can embrace and kiss each other on the cheek and nobody bats an eye. She could be a sister, or a cousin, or just a friend. Girls can do that. I don't know what those poor boys do, not being able to touch each other all day if they're outside in public. It has to be so hard for them. So I hugged her tight.

"I love you too, Patty. You know I do. I'll be back soon." It sounded so flat, so distant.

"There's $100 in fives in your purse," I said. That was almost half of the cash we had saved for emergencies. Her eyes went wide and protested that she didn't need anything like that much for the trip.

"Probably not, but if you need it you'll have it. I don't want you to be stuck anywhere without enough money."

"Patty, you already pay for everything. My job is just nickels and dimes. It doesn't feel right. And I'm sorry we haven't been...close lately. It's just this thing with my sister every year."

"Well, it is right because I love you and I'll always take care of you. You're what really matters to me." She nodded and hung her head. But I had felt shut out with her bad mood and her not feeling great sometimes. I missed times loving each other in bed. But I didn't want to dump that on her now. I did my best to send her on her way as best I could.

We walked out the door to the buses and the driver took her bag and she climbed on. I waited outside until the bus pulled away 20 minutes later, my eyes hurting from the dust in the air and sweating even in the early morning sun. I couldn't see her at a window so maybe the only open seats were on the other side of the bus, but I waited anyway. I waved in case she could see me.

That rotten wind was still blowing all the time I walked to work, never seeing a city bus going my way. I felt like shit. My stomach hurt. My guys pretty much stayed away from me all day. And then there was the asshole who quit and didn't tell anybody. His girlfriend showed up at the office for his final check and they told her he'd have to come by next week and pick it up. I took forever to get to 5 O'clock. But I had to stay late to make up for the guy not showing up and so I wasn't my usual sparkling self. I needed a goddam beer.

It's a good thing the winds had finally wound down or I might have punched the first person I saw in the face on the way to Ray's.

As I headed for my usual barstool, Ray caught my eye and pointed to the other side of the room. He had a stupid expression on his face with his eyebrows up and tongue out. What the fuck was that? I turned around and saw Penny in a booth, smiling, and beckoning me over. Her skirt was hiked up a little and exposed her knees, and it made me dizzy.

"Hey, Pat! I was hoping you'd come in tonight. You like Hamm's right? Ray!" She held up two fingers and Ray obediently drew them and hustled over, unaware his tongue was still out.

"Thank you so much, Ray! Here you go." She gave him a buck and told him to keep the change. The look on Ray's face said he would mow her lawn on Saturday if she asked him to. I wondered if she kept her front lawn trimmed herself. If you know what I mean.

"He's so nice, Ray I mean. We got the booth closest to the air conditioner, see? Well, here's to getting cool, Pat," and we clinked our mugs together.

"I haven't seen you here before I don't think," I said. It doesn't seem to be your kind of joint. I think of you as more of a wine girl, and even though Ray's liquor license is for beer and wine he doesn't serve any wine. It doesn't go with the pretzels and cornnuts." We both laughed.

"Oh, I like beer too sometimes, even though I am kind of girly." She paused for effect. "Sometimes I like the things men like." I felt the look she gave me through my eyes and it hit the back of my head like a line drive off the centerfield wall. Oh, hell, those knees were pretty. We talked about work, and she thanked me for standing up to Gladys and helping to shut down the rumors and gossip back then. I said she didn't deserve it because she wasn't that kind of girl. She said the gossip and rumors stopped right away after I stepped in. That made me feel good.