We spent those long summer evenings at the weekly dance in the parking lot of the local radio station. We’d get gussied up in our best second hand clothes, put on make-up in the bathroom at Anda’s house and as we walked there, we’d talk about the cute guys we might meet. Our cute guy radar was always on. We looked out from the corners of our eyes for any such creature as we gyrated and boogied and tried to look, like cool man. The speakers blared our favorite tunes from the French and English hit chart.
We were young and carefree and didn’t know then just how small our problems were. We cried over boys, freaked out over zits and sulked at not having clothes like the cool kids did. Now I look around my empty home, my empty life and I shake my head at how crazy we were, getting upset at nothing really. But it was our reality then, just as this is my reality now. I wonder what Anda is doing. She got married. Her Dad didn’t like him either but turns out he’s a good guy. Buys her bouquets of 11 roses, because she’s the twelfth rose… I’ve never gotten roses…but I have two beautiful babies. I like drifting away when they nap. Going back to simpler times when…
We used to chase lighting. We’d cautiously walk up from Anda’s house, to the corner on 15th street, during spectacular storms. We’d go as far as we dared, trying to anticipate the next lightning bolt. When it did strike, we’d run back to Anda’s as fast as we could. That ended when I saw lighting shaped like a pink rosary with a huge cross. I was the only one who saw it…We’d put on our swimsuits and anxiously wait for downpours and dance ecstatically in the warm, drenching rain. We were content just to spend hours in Kiss and Anda’s room, listening to music, laying beside their cats Tiger and the Fleuke, and, of course, yakking. When did it begin to change? We knew something was coming our way. Some days you could smell it…that something in the air…you just couldn’t place it.
And some days you could see it. Like the day I was running out my door, flying to Anda’s house like I’d done everyday these many years, when I heard the loudest roaring. I came to a dead stop at the end of our driveway and listened. It sounded like motorcycles. I looked down the street and saw those motorcycles, lots of them…I ran back and yelled for my Dad. We stood out on the front lawn, a scene that was repeating itself, up and down our street as people came out to see what the racket was. We watched in awe and then fear as at least 100 Hell’s Angel drove past. Before they built our high school, the world ended at 15th. They were looking for Brookdale Ave., someone said, and turned right, way too soon. They turned around at 15th street and drove back out, never looking at anyone. They were so scary looking. We’d never seen anything like it.
The atmosphere changed that day. I heard the grown ups whisper that they were worried these bikers were looking to steal young girls, sell drugs to kids…there was fear, a lot of fear…and that feeling we couldn’t place, well, we could now…times were changing with or without us. If it was for better or for worse, we didn’t know, but we sure felt the fear and uncertainty…
Next -> The World Changes
