Locomotive to the Past, George Schultz [snow like ashes series txt] 📗

to put your hands… on my bottom! Or on my breasts! But, I do want you… to kiss me! Kiss me… deeply! Kiss me… tenderly!”

He’d never encountered such a vivid “marching order” before! The explicit directive—was most welcomed! And, well, thoroughly frightening, at the same time! He was totally overwhelmed by it! However, he did manage to rally—sufficiently enough—to obey!

Her lips were warm! He’d never really kissed a girl before! Not like this! Nothing like this! Never like this! Ever! He’d always pictured—always pictured—such a moment, as sending a voltage-packed, highly-electric, charge surging through him! A lightning bolt—one that would curl his hair! And his toenails! And just about everything in between!

He was totally unprepared, for the pure—out and out—tenderness, that the, minute-long, buss generated! In fact, “generated” was not an accurate word to use! A sort of glow—would be more descriptive! And he’d had not the slightest idea—as to when the illumination would’ve begun! Or where!

Certainly, not in his loins! Probably not in his heart—which was not beating, like an out-of-control trip hammer, as he’d always thought it would! His lips? All they seemed capable of experiencing—was the taste! The sweet taste! No other way to describe it! How about his soul? Maybe that was from where the head-to-toe warmth had been launched! Nah! That’s corny stuff! Hokey stuff—that only hokey poets, and schmaltzy lyricists, write!

“The Kiss”! That eternal coming-together of lips! It lasted longer—much longer—than he ever could’ve imagined! The overwhelming “ingredient”—the all-consuming factor—was the aforementioned, undiluted, sweetness! The, all-consuming, tenderness! The nectar—of her lips! He would—he was positive—carry that unbridled sweetness with him! For the rest of his life! He knew that! In the, wholly-uncertain, world—that had always been his life—this was the one unshakable surety!

SIXTEEN

The “Thundering Herd Date”! That is what Jason had, immediately, come to refer (although privately) to the satisfying—though quite unnerving—experience! And the theater/rib/kiss outing had been—just that!

Despite the many (and varied) confrontations he’d engaged in, with his mother, over the years—as well as the highly-illuminating conversations he’d had with his grandfather, and those so-welcomed-and-sought-after exchanges with “Aunt Debbie”—the confused young man had never experienced an interchange, such as the one that he’d just “survived”, with one Valerie Krenwinkle! And he was absolutely convinced that there was only one Valerie Krenwinkle! Throughout the known history of man!

After experiencing “The Kiss”, he discovered—that he’d had absolutely no memory, of walking home. Absolutely none! He was mildly surprised that he’d even found his way back, to the “enchanted” little white house, on Sussex. Well, maybe not all that “mildly”.

Waiting up for him was Susan! That was a surprise! It was a little past midnight—and he’d never known her, to have stayed up that late. Not in those pre-Tonight Show days.

She’d sworn that she’d not remained awake—to “pump” him, about his date! But, then, she’d gone on to, wholeheartedly, “pump” him—question him, extensively—about his date! Eric had—long since—gone to bed! Jason had not the foggiest idea—as to what that might’ve portended!

The young man had done his best—to describe the “social happening”, to his landlady. He’d described—in meticulous detail—the movie. Well, at least, up to the point—when he’d actually had the audacity, to have put his arm, around his date. After that, the play-by-play description got a little sketchier.

Susan was—without a doubt—intrigued! As the narrative had continued, the interest even increased!. She was totally taken up—by what had taken place, at the “rib joint”! She’d sat there—patiently, impassively—on the sofa, while her boarder had “ricocheted all over the place”, in his rather-disjointed summation, of the, still-bone-rattling, conversation with Valerie!

“She’s right,” offered his landlady, once the young man had seemed to have run down—like the proverbial “two-dollar alarm clock”. “Do you want to haul bricks… for all your life? Or do something else? Something less physically demanding! Something more rewarding! More satisfying! From a professional… and financial… standpoint. That’s a decision… that you might be forced to make, Jason! Much more quickly… than you might imagine! Eric says that this job . . . the one, on West Chicago… that it’ll be finished, in a couple months! Three or four months… at the outside!”

“Fin… finished?”

“Yes,” she replied—with an almost imperceptible nod. “I’m sure that there’ll be other sites… probably, a lot of other sites… on which to build. Well, at least, Eric is convinced. And he’s seldom wrong. Hardly ever wrong. But, we don’t know that. There’s nothing for-sure-certain, at this point.”

“Gee! I’d never really considered . . .”

“Oh, Eric has a whole lot of friends… in the field… and, I’m sure, he could get you on, somewhere. With someone else. There’s a real manpower shortage developing, y’know, these days. Due to the war. But, the point is… what do you want to do? Do you really want to haul bricks? Lug bricks around? For the rest, of your life?”

“I’d never really… not really… never thought much about it. Never really thought about it… at all!”

“Till tonight? With Valerie?”

“Till tonight,” he affirmed. Then, in a terribly-dejected voice, he muttered, “yeah… with Valerie.”

“Look… Jason.” It seemed as though he was hearing that expression, those two words—hearing it a lot—on that highly-illuminating night/early morning. “Jason,” she continued, “we love you. Both Eric and I. But, neither of us think, that you were really cut out . . . to be a hod-carrier. Not… for good and all.”

“Well… like I said… I haven’t really given it much thought. I’ve been so happy here. Happy with my new life. Happy to be able to be here. With you… and Eric. I’ve just never, you know, thought beyond that. Thought beyond being with the two of you. And having a job. Having some money . . . for a change.,”

“Like Valerie says… you’re going to have to start thinking about such things! Start thinking . . . as to what you, for real, want to do, with your life.”

It was at that precise moment, that her boarder finally came to the, to-him-shocking, realization! The realization that—for as long back, as he could remember—his primary goal, in his life, had been to, simply, escape! To break