Something Strange

Something Strange

(And Unexplainable)

by

LittleOneWon

CH 1 (School)

I think something strange and unexplainable happened to me today. That's kind of a big deal for me since my whole life has been nothing but ordinary. I would go so far as to say that it's been mediocre. I'm dying to tell you about what happened but first, you need to know what led up to it. I need to supply some background information.

I grew up in what could only be described as the slum area of a small town. My parents were poor, but they weren't low-class. Neither my mom nor my dad had attended college. In fact, neither of them had graduated from high school!

Money was always tight. My dad worked for the local slaughterhouse. It was his duty to preside over the killing of the animals. It was far from a glamorous job, but it paid well. In my opinion, not well enough for what it required of him. My dad was not a happy man.

Mom worked from home as a seamstress for a local clothing store. There were days when she had three or four items to work on. More often, however, she had none.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. They did their best for me and that's all a girl can ask for. However, there was one thing that I wish had been different. They named me after my maternal grandmother. Her name was Hortense. I'll bet she hated that name just as much as I do!

I remember asking my mom to let me use my middle name. She told me that Granny Davis didn't have a middle name. Everyone called her Hortense. Mom said, "Listen, girl, if it was good enough for her, it's good enough for you."

I wonder if Granny's classmates sang a song about her. My classmates certainly did!

Have you ever heard the old song called, "Freckles?" My mom used to sing it. It went like this:

Freckles was his name

He always used to get the blame

For every broken window pane

And how they'd yank him

They'd always spank him

My lovely classmates changed the words to this:

Hortense is a whore

Always can find her on the floor

Taking six inches maybe more

And how she'd thank them

She always thanked them

There's nothing quite like school memories, right?

I did pretty well in school, but I was never among the best at anything. I was mediocre in everything. There's that word again!

Throughout my school years, my clothes, hairdo, and general appearance were among the worst, if not the very worst, in my class.

When I entered my freshman year of high school, I hadn't been on a single date. I hadn't even enjoyed a close friendship with a boy. I don't think it was because I was ugly, but I wasn't very pretty either. I was a slow developer-- if you get my drift. I was way behind the competition when it came to filling out. That was another negative mark on my chalkboard.

The only person lower on the totem pole than me was a stuttering boy named Horace. His name was as bad as mine and the stuttering thing slipped him down to the bottom of the people pole.

Wouldn't you know it? Horace was the first boy to ask me out! It was for our school's annual Royalty Dance. Its claim to fame was the competition for the titles of School King & Queen for the year. It was decided by a vote of the students attending the dance.

When Horace invited me, I didn't want to go. I told him that I didn't have a dress that was appropriate for such an event.

He countered that he didn't have any appropriate attire either, but he was just gonna pick the best that he had and make do. He suggested that I do the same. I relented.

Horace and I went to the event together. It was a big thing since it was the first date ever for both of us. What a couple we made. Yeah, right!

We managed to dance together a few times, but neither of us was very good at it. Most of the time, we could sense that everyone was laughing at us. Towards the end, however, things began to change.

One of the popular boys came over and asked me for a dance. I felt bad about leaving Horace all by himself, but what the heck?

I shouldn't have worried. While I was stepping on Mr. Popular's toes, I noticed that Horace was out on the floor too! He was dancing with an extremely popular and very pretty babe! Where did he get the nerve to ask her to dance? Was it like what happened to me? Did she ask him? What in the hell's going on? When did we step through the looking glass?

We were aware of how strange this turn of events was, but who cares? We were finally being treated a little better. Those top-notchers were accepting us! It was late in coming, but we were on cloud nine -- right up until we weren't.

The lights were dimming and a spotlight was illuminating the stage. Principal Simpson walked out to make the big announcement. He was about to reveal the names of this year's King and Queen.

It was quiet enough to hear the proverbial pin drop. He was grinning as he announced: "Now, it's my privilege to invite this year's King and Queen to come up and take their places on these golden thrones. This year's invitation is extended to - - - - - - - - Queen Hortense Davis and King Horace Harper!"

His announcement was followed by some knee-slapping laughter and a lot of jeers. I just about fainted. Horace was whiter than a sheet!

We looked at each other and we knew what had happened. Our classmates were having some fun at our expense. It was the utmost of humiliations. I could sense that Horace was getting ready to bolt for the door.

I grabbed his hand saying, "The jokes on them! Have you seen the list of free stuff that the king and queen will get? How about all of the events that we'll be presiding over? These assholes are counting on us to shrink away. Let's turn the tables on them. Let's be this year's King and Queen. Why not?"

I grabbed his hand and we walked to the stage with heads held high. We shook hands with the principal and claimed our thrones to an enormous amount of laughter. Unexpectedly, when things started to settle down, clapping began to override the sniggering.

I know it was meant as a big joke at our expense, but it turned out quite differently. Despite everything, Horace and I began to feel more accepted by our classmates. I don't know about him, but I felt much better about school in general. As I look back on it, that was my only school experience that wasn't mediocre.

Returning to the night of the dance, as Horace and I were walking home as newly minted royalty, he suggested that we sit for a spell in the park. It was pretty dark, but I knew that I would be safe with the King. Not so!

Before long, he had my left breast in his right hand and my right breast in his wrong hand. I did what any self-respecting Queen would do: I slapped the shit out of him.

For the rest of the year, I was the chaste Queen and he was the respectful King. I often wondered, however, if my hand should have been used for something more agreeable than slapping that evening. You know what they say about missed opportunities! Oh, well.

My mom and dad, along with many other family members, attended my high school graduation ceremony. It's hard to believe that I was the first one in our family to finish high school, but everyone assured me that I was!

It marked the first time that most of my family members had attended a high school graduation. For my dad, however, it was his last event of any kind. Sadly, he left this earth two weeks later. His tired heart just quit pumping.

Little did I realize that his death would set my mom and me on a financial spiral that could lead to a nightmare of homelessness and hopelessness. It would take a miracle to save us. Tell me this, do miracles ever really happen?

CH 2 (On the Precipice)

Dad had been feeling bad for quite a while. We didn't have a family doctor and we had no insurance. There was no way we could afford to get professional help for him. Mom thought that some exercise might help. They began taking daily walks together.

They were on a walk when Dad suddenly passed out and fell to the ground. He wasn't breathing. Soon, a small crowd gathered around him. Among them was a nurse. She began giving him CPR. Eventually, he began to breathe again. So did everyone else. There was renewed hope when an ambulance arrived and whisked him away to the ER.

Even though we had no money or insurance, the ER was forced to treat him! It's the law in our state! That doesn't, however, mean that the treatment was free! It wasn't.

Dad remained among the living for almost an hour before he lost his battle. They couldn't save him, but at least they made him as comfortable as possible during his final moments.

His bill totaled about a thousand dollars per minute! My mom called it highway robbery, but I hope to pay it off someday, somehow.

Mom blamed herself for his death since she was the one who suggested walking. The ER doctor told her that walking was a good thing. He said that it probably kept Dad with us a little bit longer. I hope that's true.

We were never members of a church, but our next-door neighbors were. Their pastor came by and informed us that the church was going to provide both a visitation room and a funeral service for Dad. In addition, he would be buried in the church cemetery.

When I inquired about the cost, I was told that it was entirely free. It was nothing short of a godsend for us in more ways than one. I always thought that those church people were uppity folks that looked down on the rest of us. I've changed my mind about them and even about church people in general. Now, I thank God for them.

Needless to say, Dad didn't have any life insurance. It finally dawned on me that it was going to be much harder for my mom and me to make it financially. How could we manage to pay the rent, buy groceries, and handle all of the other expenses? We just might find ourselves penniless and hopeless very soon.

Mom wasn't making enough money to support us and what I made at the ice cream store didn't help much. We began thinking that one day soon we might find ourselves joining the folks that were living under the old Rock Island bridge. It became a nightmare that invaded my sleep nearly every night!

That ominous and nightmarish day came much sooner than we expected. It dawned with grey skies and drizzle. We began transferring what few belongings we owned into cardboard boxes. While we were doing that, there was a knock on our door.

I peeked out and saw that it was Mrs. Fields. She was my algebra teacher. I hated for her to see how lowly and forsaken we were. I thought about not answering the door. While I delayed, she kept knocking. Finally, I gave in.

Through my tears, I opened the door. She took one look at me before grabbing me and holding me close and very tight. It felt like I was in the jaws of a vise. I could hardly breathe. She whispered, "Don't cry, sweetheart. Your neighbor told me about what you're planning to do. Don't worry. Things are going to be okay."

When I finally calmed down enough to talk, I mumbled: "No, they're not! My mom and I will be living under the Rock Island bridge before sunset. Our rent is due today and we can't pay it."

Mrs. Fields had tears in her eyes as she whispered, "Not gonna happen, honey."

She went on to say that one of her friends would be here with his truck within an hour. My head was spinning as she said: "He will take your things to my place. I have a comfortable apartment above my garage. I had it added for my mom when she became disabled. She lived in it until she passed away last year. Now it will be yours. You and your mom can stay there for as long as you need to or want to."

She mentioned how much she valued me as a student. She said that she hadn't failed to notice that I spent lots of time helping some of the other students who were "algebra-challenged." The icing on the cake was when she told me that she could schedule a job interview for me with the airline where she used to work.

I just about peed my pants. It was hard for me to contain my joy! I remembered many a story that she had told us about her days as a flight attendant. She met lots of famous people! She visited spectacular cities all across the country! It was a dream job!

I even remember the tears on her face as she told us about the accident that ended her flying career. Her plane blew a tire while landing. The resulting turmoil and mayhem caused her hip to shatter. The doctors fixed her up, but she would always walk with a limp. A flight attendant can't perform her duties with a bum leg.

The settlement that she received from the airline allowed her to attend college and get her teaching degree. A bad thing turned out to be, if not good, at least acceptable for her.

As I was remembering her words from the past, she was telling me that I could overcome my bad luck too. I looked out the window and saw that the rain had ended, the sky was clear, and the sun was shining!

Is this for real? How long will it stay like this?

CH 3 (Meeting Rusty)

About an hour later, her friend showed up just as advertised. He was young! Probably no more than three or four years older than me. His truck was far from new, but it was very well-kept. I couldn't help but notice that he was very well-kept too! If I had to choose one word to describe him, I would choose, "dreamboat." What can I say? I call 'em like I see 'em.

While Mrs. Fields was about to introduce us, she had to take a phone call. I decided to step into the breach. I said, "Hi. I'm Marie Blair. Thank you so much for helping us out."

As hard as I was trying not to, my eyes began to fill up and my smile turned into a soft sob. He hesitated a heartbeat before taking me into his strong arms as he whispered, "I'm here for you, Marie Blair. My name is Russell Evans, but everyone calls me Rusty."

I said, "Oh, Rusty. I'm not myself today. I'm sorry."

He said, "I understand. All of us need help at one time or another. I'm helping you today, but it could be me needing your help tomorrow."

As I helped him load his truck, I began to get a better grip on myself. I began to have a few normal human impulses. For instance, I noticed the way his muscles bulged when he lifted the boxes. They bulged on his arms, his neck, and his back. It was something to see!

He was sweating. He was sweating a lot. He began to wipe his brow. He was working hard and he was getting uncomfortable. He stopped loading and grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt. That's when I realized what he was about to do. He was gonna take it off! Could I handle that? He would be what? About half naked? I looked the other way.

I saw him out of the corner of my eye. That wasn't enough. I turned toward him. What a sight! He was Adonis and Apollo rolled into one. My heart was beating fast and it wasn't because of the boxes I'd been carrying.

At my first opportunity, I whispered, "Mrs. Fields, what can you tell me about Rusty?"

She answered, "First, I want you to call me Molly. I'm not your teacher anymore. I'm your friend. I've known Rusty and his parents for a long time. They're good people. They live in that mobile home park just outside of town. His mom is a school bus driver and his dad works for the county road department."

I didn't say anything or even move a muscle. Seeing that, she filled the void by saying, "I don't think he has a girlfriend if that's what you're asking. He's always been very quiet. Even kinda shy. I've been watching you watching him. You could do worse, that's for sure. You do realize he's been watching you too, don't cha?" I didn't know that, but I was sure glad to hear it.

When the truck was loaded, I noticed that Rusty was saying something to Molly. She smiled at him. When we were ready to depart, Molly invited my mom to ride with her. Since the back seat of her car was loaded, that left only one place for me to ride. I would be forced to ride next to Rusty in his truck. It was a tough assignment, but a girl has to do what she has to do. Right?

Before we left, Molly whispered, "Rusty's not much of a conversationist. You might have to get things started. Once he's comfortable with you, he'll open up." I gave her the OK sign.

When I settled in next to him, I was prepared to open the conversation. I didn't need to. As he started the truck, he turned to me saying, "I'm thinking about stopping for a coke at Sonic. Would you be up for that?"

I said, "Would I? Would I ever! I definitely would! That sounds great, Rusty. I'm as thirsty as a sandpile in the Sahara Desert. Good idea."

As he drove towards the Sonic, he said, "Your answer to my question reminded me of an old joke. Stop me if you've heard it.

"There was this guy that had an eye made of wood. Don't ask me how or why he had one, but it's important to the story. Anyway, it was hard for him to get any dates, but he finally found a girl that would date him. It was probably because she had a problem of her own. She had a harelip.

"He thought their first date had gone well, so on the way home he asked her if she would like to go out again next week. She answered kinda like you answered me saying, "Would I! Would I! Would I? He took it all wrong. Bristling with an angry red face he shouted, "Hairlip! Hairlip! Hairlip!"

I said, "Rusty, that might be the worst joke I've ever heard!" Of course, I was laughing as I said it. He said, "Yeah, it's pretty bad in more ways than one! Sorry about that. Would you believe I heard it from my Sunday School teacher?"

I replied, "Oh- my- God! I hope it didn't come from the Bible."

He just grinned as he maneuvered his truck into the parking lot. I thought he meant to get cokes at the drive-through window, but he parked and we went inside. He said, "Know what? I'm a little hungry too. A burger would hit the spot. How about you, Marie?"

I told him that I was a little short of funds and would have to pass on anything more than a coke. He said, "Marie, get serious! Do you think I would invite you to eat and make you pay for it? Order anything you want. It's on me and I can afford it."

We found ourselves sitting across from each other in a comfortable booth with our cokes, burgers, and a giant order of fries. The food was better than good but the conversation was even better. I was getting to know Rusty and I liked what I was finding out.

From the beginning, we were very comfortable with each other. Our conversation flowed without a pause.

One impressive thing that I learned; Molly had helped him get a job at the airline where she used to work. He was a member of the ground crew. He started out doing mostly grunt work, but now he was an Aircraft Marshaller.

He was the guy with an orange light wand in each hand. He was the one who guided those big planes to and from the gates both before and after they were under FAA control. He was making good money and he liked the job.

In short, Rusty's a good-looking guy with a great personality and a good job. Can it get any better than that?

I often pause to remember that eventful day. It started as what could well have been the worst day of my life. I'm talking about homelessness. I'm talking about living under a bridge. I'm talking about me and my mom in a desperate and dangerous situation. I'm talking about a horrendous nightmare.

There's still a long way to go and perhaps a thousand things that could go wrong. Regardless of all that, I marvel at the way it seems to have all turned around, thanks to a gal named Molly and a guy called Rusty.

I now consider what could have been the worst day of my life to be the best day of my life. The day that my mom and I were rescued from indigence! The day that I met the best specimen of manhood on this planet. The day that I fell in love!