The Summer of ‘69
Oh when I look back now,
That summer seemed to last forever.
And if I had the choice
Yeah, I'd always want to be there.
Those were the best days of my life.
When Daddy drove up, I was laying in the yard, sunbathing and reading the Catcher and the Rye. It'd been assigned as summer reading material, and I was almost finished with it. I heard the squeak of the brakes he'd yet to fix, even though Mama had been on him about them since February. Daddy's philosophy was that if they worked, a little squeaking didn't hurt anyone. I sat up and looked around, surprised to see another person sitting in the passenger seat of the truck. Curious now, I ran towards the truck, greeting Daddy with the customary hug. "Jane, meet our newest family member, Zane Tilred." He told me, his arm settling over my shoulders. The other person, Zane, had gotten out of the truck and came around to help Daddy with the bags of groceries. I recognized him, he'd been one of the few negro students to join the otherwise white school a few years ago. I'd never spoken to him, never even smiled at him. How could I have been so thoughtless? The wave of guilt that washed over me was heavy and oppressive and I wanted so badly to apologize. "Hi, Zane..." I said, a little shyly, hoping that he didn't hate me. For some reason, I wanted this boy I'd never even bothered to smile at to like me. "Hi." his voice was rough and low, but smooth at the same time. Later, I would reflect how white people didn't have that quality. That our voices are either rough or smooth, that we don't have the gift of being able to have both. One of the many things I have come to admire about Zane's people. Daddy stood there, and I wondered if he could feel the tension that was in the air. "Well, Jane, go show Zane around the farm. I'll take this groceries in and tell your Mama to get us some lemonade."
I grabbed Zane's hand, and started pulling him towards the barn. "Okay! Come on, Zane!" I could feel the hesitation in his large hand in mine, but I still took it. I would be his friend. I would. No matter what it took.
*~-~-~-~-~-~*
And two weeks later, we were friends. I had worked hard at breaking down the social barriers that stood between us, worked at getting past the prejudices and pent up anger. It hadn't been very hard. As a person, Zane was very forgiving and open, even if he did have a bit of a temper. There would be days that I would almost be scared of him, as I listened to him rant about the world and how he'd change it. He was one of those people you'd call a quiet power, someone you don't think to be afraid of, but you really should be in all reality. Zane wanted to be a doctor, and after all our chores were done for the day, the two of us would lay on our backs in the hay loft, surrounded by the sweet hay and talk about our dreams. He would tell me all about the different bones in my body, and how he'd taken anatomy last year and how interesting it had been to learn about the human body. I would watch him, fascinated by the way his wide, dark eyes would light up as he spoke of the things he could scarcely hope to achieve.
At first, Zane had been very surprised how open my parents and I were. We didn't care if he ate dinner at the same table as us, didn't care if he sat beside my mother and shared popcorn as we watched a movie on the television. He had assumed that this would be like his last summer job, where he was forced to sleep in the barn with the animals, and had to eat outside. He'd asked so many times why we didn't care if he used the same bathroom as we did. I would just roll my eyes and tell him not to question it, that he might annoy me one day and I'd have Daddy fire him. The first few times I said that, I saw the flicker of fear in those big orbs that were usually so friendly. And I'd cursed myself. But a few weeks later, the fear stopped appearing in his eyes. Then, it changed to something I didn't quite understand. It was a soft look, hardly there, but I almost thought it had something to do with the warm coil that twisted when he came near, or when his hand accidentally brushed mine. But I tried to ignore it, because even though the social barriers for us to be friends had been easily broken down, anything more was out of the question.
*~-~-~-~-~-~*
There's a reason, I think, people fall in love too easily. It's easy to feel love, just as easy as it is to feel anger. Love and anger have to be one of the few easiest human emotions that exist. But I didn't feel anger that summer. I felt love, bubbling ceaselessly at the pit of my stomach, tickling my insides and making me feel light headed whenever he was around. At the slightest touch, I would obsess for days, trying to figure out if he meant what I thought he meant by his fingers clasping mine during the scary movie that was on television on friday night. And those touches were getting more frequent, things that any sane person would explain away, but I would sit in my room before I got up in the mornings and think about. My body would get all tingly, and my heart rate would quicken.
When we would be doing something completely ordinary, like feeding the horses or watering the garden, I would feel his eyes on my back. And when I would turn around, my eyes silently asking why he'd been staring at me, he'd blush and turn away. Before I met Zane, it'd never occurred to me that black people blush too. But they do, their skin turning an almost deep purple instead of ruddy red like white people's. It was another thing I admired about their race. It seemed so other-worldly to a sixteen year old girl. Even though it was something as simple as a blush.
*~-~-~-~-~-~*
Daddy sent Zane and I into town one day for groceries. We happily went. The atmosphere around the house was confining. Mama and Daddy had been arguing about everything, the heat making their shouts seem ten times louder. It'd gotten so bad, that I'd ran out into the orchard, hiding behind the trees, the tears on my face hot and angry. And I was angry. I was angry because they could be together and no one could say anything. They had the same social standing, they had the same skin color. And I couldn't have that with Zane and it hurt and I just sat and cried, curled in a ball beneath the trees. Zane had come looking for me and found me with my face pressed into the green grass, fast asleep. Mama told me the next morning that he carried me back to the house, and tucked me in bed. And my heart had fluttered with the thought. But the air was still oppressive, the good mornings between my parents cold and distant. So I had begged Daddy to give us a job outside the farm, somewhere where the echos of arguments didn't scream loudly in my ears. And that's why, on a hot July day, Zane and I were headed into town for the first time in a month, singing loudly to Come Together and Sweet Caroline. As cliche as it sounds, I think that's the moment I fell totally head over heels for Zane. Watching him sing and laugh, it was hard not to admire him.
When the car stopped in the parking lot, Zane stopped singing and turned the radio down. "Janie... I--Do you think you could do the shopping alone? I'll sit out here and wait for you, I just..." He looked so uncomfortable, and I understood why. Even though the town hadn't been segregated for awhile now, I knew that he would hate the stares that would come from all the women doing their shopping inside. I smiled a little sadly at him and patted his arm. "Of course I can shop alone, Zane. I'll be right back." And before I could think about what I was doing, before I could question it, before I would realize we were sitting in plain view of the public and if anyone looked up they would see, I kissed him lightly on the cheek. I felt my face turn red instantly, and I scampered out of the car, running into the grocery and stopping beside the canned food. Deep breaths, Jane. Deep breaths. It was just a kiss on the cheek. You do that to Daddy all the time.
Yes, I argued with myself, staring at a can of beans with a little too much determination. But I didn't mean that kiss the way I mean kissing on Daddy's cheek.
But you can tell him you meant it that way.
But I didn't.
But he doesn't have to know that.
That's a lie.
Do you want all your feelings to come out?
NO....Yes... I don't know! I stomped away from the beans, grabbing a cart and pushing it around angrily, picking up things that were on the list Mama had given me. I rushed through shopping, and then hurried out to the car, almost throwing the bags into the back. When I climbed in, Zane's eyes looked so far away. I wished I could join him wherever he was in his mind, wished we could run away and stay there forever. He turned to me, and smiled softly. "What's next on our list?"
I looked down. "Pick up oil for Daddy." The truck pulled out of the parking lot, and I was thankful to leave.
"After we pick up the oil, do we have anything else to do?" I shook my head.
"Then I have something to show you." I felt my heart do a little bounce in my chest. The prospect of doing something new and exciting with Zane was too much. My body was flowing with that warm energy I always felt around him. "You okay, Janie?" He whispered, looking at me out of the corner of his eye.
"Yeah. I'm fine." I answered, smiling back.
"You just look a little flushed, that's all."
"I'm fine. It's just really hot, you know?" His fingers moved off the gear shift and gathered mine in them, squeezing them tightly. I didn't say anything, but I'm almost sure he felt my heart beat through my skin. I know I could feel it. It was so loud in my ears I was surprised that all of Virginia didn't notice it. When we reached the auto-parts store, he released my fingers, and they almost felt cold, despite the weather, without the warmth of his. He ran in to get the oil this time, and I sat in the car, my eyes closed. I refused to think about how he’d just held my hand, how I’d kissed him on the cheek, refused to think about anything. I just enjoyed the cool breeze that was coming from the river nearby, and let the excitement of going to wherever Zane was taking me wash over me. He returned to the car, and climbed in, sticking the bottle of oil in the backseat. He didn’t take my hand again, but gripped the wheel tightly. I could tell something was bothering him, but I decided to let it go. I didn’t want to ruin this perfect day by saying something that would cause him to rage and storm for hours. He drove out of town, faster than he had drove in, in the opposite way of the farm. I didn’t dare ask where we were going, just sat there is silence. Not even singing when Get Back by the Beatles came on the radio. “Jane?” He said, when we’d sat in silence for half an hour and I’d started to wonder if he was ever going to stop driving, or if he would just keep going forever. “Yes?”
“You like me, don’t you?”
The question was blunt and unexpected, and the look on his face was almost heartbreaking.
“Why?” I dodged the question.
“Can you just answer?”
“If I said yes, what would that mean?” still dodging.
“That all my dreams for the last few weeks would come true, and that it would break my heart that it would never work.”
“Oh.” I didn’t say anything more, just sat there. All these weeks I’d been dreaming about Zane, it’d never really occured to me what would happen after we both admitted our feelings. I’d just been focused on the act itself, focused on what I would say and how I would feel. But this was nothing like I had imagined. I wondered what happened in the auto-parts store to make him be so angry and distant. He didn’t push me to give an answer, just continued driving. When he finally stopped the car, we were on the outskirts of the woods, and he jumped out, running around the truck and opening my door. “What I’m about to show you,” he said, his voice rumbling. Boy, was he mad. “Is a place I’ve never shown anyone. My family and I used to come here... But after, well.” He got quiet, and I felt my heart break a little. All of his family had been killed in a house fire while he was at football practice two years before. They suspect it was arson. “But I want to show you, Janie, because you’re the first person since my family I’ve felt close to.” Tears pricked my eyelids. The fact that he trusted me enough to do something that emotional made me want to paint my skin black so I could be just like him. He took my hand, his fingers lacing through mine, and lead me through the trees. We reached a clearing, and the gasp from me made him smile. “This is what my mother called the dream world.”
It really did look like a dream world. A lake, with a waterfall that was gushing from the rain a few days before. A sandy beach and rocks for sunbathing. There was even a little shack built on the grass for changing into swimsuits. “I had your mom pack your bathing suit on the sly for me. I thought it’d be a nice distraction.”
“You’re wonderful.” I said, throwing my arms around his neck and just stopping myself from kissing him. I knew from the look in his eyes he’d been about to kiss me too, so I pulled away and grabbed my swimsuit, running into the shed. The floor was grass, and the only light came from the cracks in the boards. I loved it. I changed quickly though, wanting to get back in the sun so I could bask in the warmth of Zane’s undivided attention. There were no tomatoes to be watered here. No bean stalks to be tied to stakes. It was just the two of us and a bright shining lake full of little tiny minnows that I could catch with my fingers if I was quick enough. Zane had changed too, his perfect muscles shining with water. “You jumped in without me?” I said, mock anger on my face. He grinned. “You took too long.”
“I know I literally took sixty seconds.”
“Too long.” I stuck my tongue out at him and dived in, the cool water soothing my hot skin.
And that’s how we spent our afternoon, swimming and laughing, with water fights in between. After we couldn’t take the exertion of swimming anymore, we lay on our backs and watched the clouds above us. He rolled onto his stomach and looked at me through those warm eyes, and I knew what he was going to do before he did it. He bent down over me, and kissed me softly, his lips soft, though a little chapped. His hands were on either side of me, supporting him so he could hover over me. My hands found their way to rest against his chest, and I felt his heart beating against my fingertips. I don’t know how long we kissed. My arms eventually snaked around his neck, holding on and pulling him closer. His lips peppered my face in kisses, until they recaptured mine again. It was almost too perfect.
Maybe that’s why what happened next happened. We were too perfect together. I can’t explain it any other way, because, how can you explain something so tragic? When he eventually pulled away, he bent down to whisper in my ear, whisper that he loved me, but he never got the chance. As he bent down to my ear, his warmth was suddenly ripped away from my clutches, suddenly his soft breath wasn’t on my ear anymore. I sat up, startled and looked around. Someone was holding onto Zane, gripping him tightly, and letting out a drunken laugh as he did so. I knew instantly what kind of a situation I had been found in. I was a young white girl, and he was a black boy. That had been found by a drunk, kissing. “What have we here?” said the very large man, throwing Zane to the ground. I was frozen where I was, unable to move a muscle. I’d read about such things in the paper. At least one always ended up dead. “A little secret meeting between lovers?” the drunk cackled, his foot landing hard on Zane’s chest. Zane grunted in pain, and then mumbled something incoherently.
“What was that? I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you over my disgust.” The man stomped again, harder this time. I could hear bones cracking. I still couldn’t move, and still couldn’t say anything. I was perfectly still in the half-sitting, half-lying position. Zane said something else, which made the man throw back his head and laugh. “You think you’re going to kill me, you little piece of scum? You think you can do anything to me?” And he grabbed Zane and hoisted him up by his short hair, punching Zane’s face. “You are a little piece of shit on the bottom of my shoe.” the man hissed, throwing Zane back to the ground and kicking him mercilessly. That triggered me to stand, to run at the man and start kicking, start biting and scratching and hitting. “Get away from him!” I screamed with all my might, trying to make the man hurt as much as Zane was. The man practically sighed, like I was an annoyance and turned around, taking my thin body and throwing me against a tree. The wind was gone from my lungs. There was no breath left. It was just pain and fear. “Janie!” Zane screamed, sitting up, trying to crawl towards me, trying to protect me. “Oh no you don’t!” The man giggled, grabbing him and picking him up again. A knee to the stomach, then he was down on the ground again, kicked over and over again. “Zane!” I screamed, unable to move without pain ricocheting up through my spine. “Please! Don’t hurt him! He’s done nothing wrong! Please!” I tried to crawl towards them, but the man kicked me in the stomach to stop me. “You’ll stay right there, you little whore. And watch as I beat your nigger boyfriend into the ground and send him to hell where he belongs.” Tears. He wanted to kill Zane. He intended to kill Zane. “Please...” I whispered, curled in the fetal position on the ground.
“Any last words, scum?” the man whispered, bending close to Zane’s ear. Zane’s eyes were swollen shut. I couldn’t see his beautiful expressive eyes. His lips were cracked and bleeding, but they still seemed perfect to me. His unprotected body seemed fine on the outside, by I knew inside there was bleeding and broken things. He was dying. And the tears flowed even faster. “Janie! Look at me!” he croaked his voice altered by the pain. “I love you. More than anything.” A shaking hand reached up and took his old necklace from around his neck. He threw it, and I caught it and clutched it close. “I love you too.” I gasped through the tears, trying and failing not to admit that Zane was dying. “Goodbye, Janie.”
“Well, that’s so sweet, I’ll have to go see the dentist after this. I think I may have a cavity.” spat the man, before he picked up a rock and started throwing it at Zane’s head. Zane’s screams echoed in my brain. Because my eyes were shut to the horrible act that was being committed in front of me. But they were screams of how much he loved me, that he would live and we’d be okay, to be brave. And when silence was all that echoed in the clearing, my tears stopped flowing and I opened my eyes. The man was gone, Zane’s broken body lying on the previously white sand. It was stained pink, and in the fading light, it practically sparkled. Like broken glass that was wet. I crawled to him, checked to see if he had a pulse. There was nothing. No dull thud, no flutter. Zane, the love of my young, short life was dead. Brutally murdered in the place he felt safest.
*~-~-~-~-~-~-~*
The people from the farm nearby had heard Zane’s screams, and they came now. They found me curled against Zane, sobbing, clutching at his necklace, my eyes shut tight. When they tried to remove me from his body, I clung and screamed at them, telling them if they’d come sooner he would still be alive. That Zane would still be breathing. They got my name out of me and called my parents, who came and took me home. A warm bath, a cup of tea, bed. Nightmares to plague my dreams. Screams echoing in my head. “I love you Janie, I love you Janie.” A never ending chant.
*~-~-~-~-~-~*
It’s been four years since Zane was murdered. I still have nightmares. I still wear his necklace everyday. But the pain isn’t so acute. Except at night, when I’m cold, and all I can think about is that one evening late in June when we were laying in the orchard, looking at the stars, and I was cuddled against his side for warmth, and his arms were tight around me. I’m always cold, it seems. I go through the motions of living, but it never really works. Everyone tells me that one day it’ll be okay. One day I’ll be able to return to life fully.
I don’t believe them.
But I take it one day at a time, because I promised Zane I would be brave. Promised him that I would love him everyday but I would learn how to live without him.
The End.
We were young and restless,
We needed to unwind.
I guess nothin' can last forever, forever, no.
Standin' on your mama's porch
You told me it would last forever.
Oh, and when you held my hand
I knew that it was now or never.
Those were the best days of my life.
Summer of '69--Bryan Adams
Alright, dear, here as promised.
You know how much I love this story, and how it made me cry. I suppose since I've read it about fifty million times I should review it.
Okay, first things first. You need to start a new line for dialogue. I know you know to do that, so this was probably just a mistake. Example:
Wrong:
"The wave of guilt that washed over me was heavy and oppressive and I wanted so badly to apologize. "Hi, Zane..." I said, a little shyly, hoping that he didn't hate me. For some reason, I wanted this boy I'd never even bothered to smile at to like me. "Hi." his voice was rough and low, but smooth at the same time."
Right:
"The wave of guilt that washed over me was heavy and oppressive and I wanted so badly to apologize. "Hi, Zane..." I said, a little shyly, hoping that he didn't hate me. For some reason, I wanted this boy I'd never even bothered to smile at to like me.
"Hi." his voice was rough and low, but smooth at the same time."
You did it right sometimes, but you did this a good amount, too, so just comb through it and press the space bar a few times when needed. (Did you know that review doesn't let you press the tab button?)
Remember to show and not tell. You do a pretty good job of this, and it's good in small portions, but there are just chucks when you explain stuff. In many cases, you do it tastefully, but don't do it the whole story. I don't mean the parts where it's like she's giving her emotions, just in the flashbacks. I do really like the choppiness of the last paragraph, though. Whether on purpose or not, it seems to portray her brokenness in a way that diction never could.
The emotion in this is very good, and the describing words. If it were a book, I would call it a page turner, but I can't now because there are no pages to turn. You've always been good at making people feel stuff with your writing. Just work on elaborating in a less conventional way. Let us into her head not just in the emotion part, but in the flashback as well.
I would like to apologize for the awfulness of this review. Feel free to disregard.
Tacks
P.S. It's weird reviewing without all the codes and colors and quotes.
thanks darling xx
thanks darling xx
thanks darling xx
thanks darling xx
thanks darling xx
thanks darling xx
Wow. This is outstanding!! I haven't read something this good in a while! A lot of people go overboard on details (including me) but you detailed perfectly. I loved the storyline and how even though they barely even kissed you could tell that they loved each other. I want to point out that some of the things you had your characters doing, like sticking her tongue out at him and that sort of thing, might not have been done back in the 60's. I wouldn't know, but some of it seemed just a little too modern to be set in the sixties. The only other thing I have to say is that I wish it had a happy ending, but I understand why it doesn't. Great story! I want to read more from you!!!
Good story!
One thing though,
If you are referring to that awesome J.D Salinger book then it's supposed to be: Catcher in the Rye.