Chapter Thirty-Nine
-- June, 1967
Bob Dylan – “My Back Pages”
Janet and Maggie stood on the roof of Janet’s house, the golf umbrella they dragged up now open between the two of them.
“This is crazy--” Janet blurted.
Maggie looked at her, suspiciously. “You said no backing out!”
“I’m not backing out! I’m just saying how stupid it is!” Most of their decisions were self-destructive, but this just seemed suicidal...
“It’ll be fine as long as we go at the same time.”
Janet laughed, skeptically. “Oh, simple!”
“Just don’t think about it, okay?” Maggie got into position. “Jump on three?”
Janet reluctantly nodded.
Downstairs, in his plush office, William Benson was on the tail end of a phone call. “Yes, it needs to fit six comfortably and preferably within a block of the water--”
Before he finished the sentence, his daughter and her best friend came plummeting to the ground outside his window holding limply to a broken umbrella. He hung up immediately and ran to their aid.
**
The next day, Janet sat in the back of her parent’s caddy knee to knee with Maggie and her siblings. She had a brand-new cast on her arm and looked at it, dismally. “I can’t believe I have to wear this for over a month!”
William frowned from the front seat, “it’s your own damn fault...”
Janet leaned forward to yell at him. “You think this is funny, dad?! My summer is ruined!”
“Don’t you think you’re being a little overdramatic?”
“First, Monterey Pop -- now this!”
“I wasn’t going to fly you out to California on your own!”
Janet sat back insolently and blew the hair out of her face. The trunk was filled to the gills with luggage and they were on their way to Lake George until late August.
Bill and Nick were pushed together in the backseat and Bill kept giving his baby brother a dead leg for encroaching on his space. “For the last time, move over!” he screamed.
Nick wailed in pain as Sandra yelled from the passenger seat, “Quit it with the monkeyshines!” The boys listened.
For about three seconds.
As the punching resumed, Maggie went back to her “Look” magazine. When she saw that they had pictures of Elvis and Priscilla’s wedding, she elbowed Janet. “I can’t believe he’s taken. I want to murder her...”
Janet looked down at her cast, then glared at Maggie. “How are you fine?!”
“I’m just resilient. Now hush! We have much more pressing issues--”
“Like what?!”
“You still haven’t kissed anybody--”
Janet clamped her hand over Maggie’s mouth before the others could hear. “Are you insane?!” she murder-whispered.
Maggie pried the hand away to speak. Quieter this time. “You can’t be in high school and haven’t kissed a boy. I think they send you to a nunnery for that kind of thing! My god, they oughta write a folk song about you--”
“You need a boyfriend to get someone to kiss you--”
“You DO NOT need a boyfriend to get kissed!”
“Fine, then someone cute.”
“What about Matt Learner? He’s got a crush on you. He’s always teasing you--”
“Matt does not like me!”
“Oh, please – you can’t be tomboy dumb for the rest of your life! If you have any shot at all at getting Matt Learner, you gotta get your first kiss this summer!”
“What are you guys talking about?” Lynn asked suspiciously from the seat behind them.
“Nothing!” They screamed in unison, ending the conversation.
**
Before the family could officially start summer vacation, they had to drop Bill off at Camp Adirondack, a boy scout camp near their hotel. He had gotten a flat-top crewcut specifically for the occasion. On the way up, they stopped for lunch. The Prestige Diner was their yearly tradition. It was in the middle of nowhere, but they liked the americana of the place.
While Sandra and the girls were in the bathroom, Bill asked his father for a quick war story. William had already had a few, so he was happy to oblige. And because it was just his boys he could really let loose. He told them about taking R&R in Seoul during the American occupation. “There was this nightclub that the Koreans had. I swear, we used to love it so much that it practically became a G.I. bar. There were these girls there that, well... do you know what a comfort woman is?”
Bill and Nick exchanged confused looks.
“How about Geisha? I know you know that one!” William smiled and clapped his oldest on the back. Bill took it awkwardly, but William continued uninterrupted.
“Now there was this one who was known to... how do I put this gently?” He thought long and hard, finally grinning when he figured how to say it. “Suck the essence out of a man--”
He was so into his story he didn’t notice that Bill was weeping. When William finally saw his son, his face covered in tears, he sneered in disgust. “The hell are you crying for?!” But Bill wouldn’t say.
By the time they deposited him at camp, he had composed himself. They pulled his gear out of the back of the caddy and together with an Eagle Scout C.I.T., dragged it up to Bill’s new home for the next two months. Although the cabin was freshly painted, it was made of driftwood and had the look of a much older shack. Inside, the bare bones walls were held up by shiplap and nails. Teenage campers unpacked their mess kits, their swiss army and bowie knives. They spread their Boy’s life and American Boy periodicals on side tables to make themselves look interesting.
William watched as his son awkwardly introduced himself around to his bunkmates with a firm handshake. Back home, Bill may have been a leader amongst his fellow scouts, but these boys looked like they would need to be won over. Unable to watch anymore, William left without saying goodbye and hurried back to the car.
**
Lake George was in a time warp. Whenever the Bensons went there it always appeared to be at least twenty years earlier. Which was just fine with William.
He pulled up to the Sagamore, a seven floor, white-washed country manor with Spanish tile. It was one of the only hotels in the area that catered exclusively to the upper class. Checking into their master suite, the family changed quickly and headed down to the brown sand beach to take advantage of the afternoon sun. All around them in dazzling technicolor people boated, sunbathed, and played shuffleboard. Patriotic bunting hung from the docks in anticipation of the fourth.
As the children played in the lake, William fell asleep with an Ellery Queen on his chest. When he finally opened his eyes, he saw a baby in a sailor suit being cooed over by an attractive young blonde in pedal pushers. He waved, then realized that not all of the children were out swimming.
As his eyes peered over his paperback, he spied Maggie with her back to him. She was laying face down on a picnic blanket they had put out. She had on a two-piece bathing suit and part of it was tucked up between her cheeks revealing a sliver of pale skin.
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William smiled and looked back down at his book. He almost didn’t say anything.
“Hey Mags, your fanny’s hanging out...”
She didn’t react the way he thought she would. Instead of springing up or adjusting herself, Maggie remained where she was. “It needs to breathe.” she finally said.
After a moment, she wiggled it a little for him and William laughed.
When his wife walked over, he buried his face back into the book. Sandra was with Eileen Connerty, their neighbor from back in Jersey. Eileen was loud and well-endowed, her halter neck one piece designed to show off her fifty-year-old goods. She had an oversized beauty mark at the corner of her mouth and zeroed in on Nick right away. “Is that Nicky?! My god, how big you’ve gotten!” she cooed.
Nick nodded, awkwardly, as his mother prodded. “Can you say hi to Mrs. Connerty?”
“Hi,” Nick mumbled. He had never liked Mrs. Connerty. Her perfume was overly strong. Or was it perfumes? A mixture of several until they became overwhelming...
Eileen looked at her pale shoulders peeking out of her halter top. “Oh dear, I’m peeling already...” She held out a tube of Coppertone, expectantly. “Nicky could you get my back?”
“Do I have to?” Nick asked.
His mother clapped her hands together. “Nicholas!” she chided him.
“Okay, okay...” Nick reluctantly got up and began to grease Mrs. Connerty’s back.
“I tell you Nicky, you have got some strong hands. You know, I was going to get one of the baggers at the grocery store to help me move some things in my cabin, but maybe this is kismet--”
“Why can’t Mr. Connerty help you?”
Sandra again shot up in her beach chair. “Nicholas!” she yelled a second time, then turned to Eileen. “He’d be happy to help.”
Eileen, though, chose to answer Nick’s question. “Well, Mr. Connerty only comes up on the weekends. Or sometimes not at all. You see he has to work during the week. Or he’s busy with private meetings at the Hotel Carlyle’s penthouse suite...”
Sandra stifled a laugh. She knew when Eileen was trying to shit on her husband. She gave her friend a playful whack on the arm but trailed off. Something had caught her eye...
Sandra rose slowly to her feet and looked across the sand at a curly-haired brunette that had just arrived. She was no more than a hundred yards away, but her presence stopped Sandra cold. She was a little older than Sandra, but infinitely more beautiful, with deep olive skin. “I’ll be damned...” Sandra said to herself. “He brought her up here.”
“Brought who, mom?” Janet wanted to know. She had just trudged out of the water.
“Oh, nobody dear. It’s nothing.”
More concerned with herself, Janet continued on. “Can Maggie and I go to the landing and shop around?”
“Sure,” Sandra said, distracted. Then added, “take your sister along.”
Lynn sat up, excited, but Janet waved her hands. “Mom, no! She’d just be bored!”
Lynn dropped to her knees. “No, I won’t! Please! I promise! What you say goes!”
Sandra crossed her arms. “Janet, you will take your sister and that is final.”
Janet groaned. “Fine Lynn, but you better keep up with us--”
Janet’s younger sister was already gathering her stuff. “Of course, right, no dawdling!” She hurried eagerly after the two older girls like a new recruit.
**
As the three of them headed to Bolton’s Landing, they turned from a relatively quiet country road onto the busy Lake Shore Drive which was really just Rt. 9 North. It was always hectically busy, but they needed to walk along it to get to any of the places they wanted.
By the time they arrived at the A&W Root Beer stand, they were all glistening with sweat. In line, the youngest Benson kept looking at her chaperone’s red eyes. “I don’t understand, why did that cigarette smell so funny?”
Janet blanched. “Oh, this woman came by and spilled perfume on our smokes.” She popped a stick of Beeman’s in her mouth to mask the scent.
“Yeah, I hate it when that happens!” Maggie said, backing her friend up. She must have been convincing too, because Lynn nodded as if that made any sense whatsoever. Janet fixed her hair absently and Lynn mirrored her behavior, trying to look like she was just one of the girls.
“Next!” the kid who ran the ice cream counter shouted.
As the couple in front of them ordered, Janet and Maggie looked at the young man who had spoken. His hair was in his face, but they could still see the mysterious, dark green eyes that shone out. His body was skinny and wiry and Janet liked his forearms, liked the way they flexed when he packed a scoop into a waffle cone.
She was lost in thought until Maggie nudged her. “How about him?”
“How about him for what?”
“You know...” Maggie snickered. “He even kinda looks like Mattie...”
Janet blushed uncontrollably. “No, I am too high for this!”
“Well, you’re running out of time – it’s our turn to order.” As the couple ahead of them stepped over to the register to pay, Maggie was already giggling, mischievously. “Or I could ask him out for you?!”
Before Janet could stop her, Maggie chortled, “Excuse me, sir?! My friend thinks you’re a real catch and would greatly appreciate a night of your company!”
Mortified, Janet dragged Maggie out of the line and around the corner, followed closely by Lynn, who apologized for making a scene.
**
The next day, Nick reported as ordered to Mrs. Connerty’s bungalow. The front door was open, so he knocked on the screen. He heard her singing “Come on-a My House” as she cleaned the kitchen. She came to the door in a thin, salmon blouse that made sure to display her ample cleavage.
“Right on time,” she said, letting Nick in with a big smile.
He entered, hesitantly, as Eileen led the way through to the den. When she got there, she motioned. “I’ve been having the damnedest time getting this thing in the window.”
Nick looked where she pointed. A monster sixty pound, brand new air conditioner sat parked on the carpet where the delivery driver had left it. It still had its tags on. She had bought it special for the occasion.
Nick squatted down to try and lift the set, but it was so dense and awkward that he only made it half a foot off the ground. When it settled back onto the carpet, Mrs. Connerty took the other side. “I’m glad I wore my work-out clothes,” she said.
Nick gave her a charitable smile as they wrestled the air conditioner into the picture frame window. Once it was in, she had Nick balance it while she ran around spreading the retractable wings. They stepped back cautiously to see if it would stay in place. When it did, they breathed a sigh of relief, both covered in a thin layer of perspiration.
Eileen fanned herself. “I’m gonna need to change after all this...”
Nick nodded, looking at the exit. “I’ll go get your money,” she said.
Nick watched as she headed down the hallway to her back bedroom. She made a visible effort to close the door behind her, but it bounced off the frame, hovering back and forth, halfway open. She proceeded to change, her back to the door. Shimmying out of her already revealing clothes, she presented her squatting ass to be ogled, the sides of her breasts to be gawked at. After slipping on a kimono, she dug around in a desk drawer for Nick’s pay.
She came out, holding the money aloft for him to grab. When he did, she held on to it for just a moment too long so that they had a brief tugging match. She smiled as Nick snatched the money away. “I gotta go,” he said and made his way out the same door he came in through.
**
At Camp Adirondack, Bill was still getting to know his fellow campers. If he was being honest, he was struggling in his role as their natural born leader. The day before they were on a hike. When they came upon a downed tree, he had jumped into action, yelling “Come on, men!” imploring the others to help him clear the path. The way he ordered them about didn’t go over well. His bunkmates had secretly started referring to him as the Lone Ranger amongst themselves, excessively quoting the “hi-ho silver” line whenever he was especially tiresome. Bill didn’t seem to notice. He just thought they were fans of the show. In private, he would ask them what other westerns they liked.
He had garnered a reputation as somewhat of a narc, often going to higher-ups just to check that what they were doing was “above board.” He would have had the sheen of a teacher’s pet, but even most of the Eagle Scouts couldn’t stand him.
There was one counselor, however, that exercised great patience around Bill. Lee Hannah was barely a year out of college, certainly one of the younger Senior scouts, and a lot of the campers looked up to him. He had majored in Education in school and saw in Bill countless opportunities to use the techniques in real life that he had only read about in print.
Naturally, he was Bill’s favorite counselor.
**
By the Fourth of July, Janet and Maggie had fallen back into the familiar rhythms of summer they knew from years past. They formed a core group of friends who spent all day together and, on the periphery, was the boy who worked at the A&W scooping ice cream. His name, they learned, was Oliver. He was up at the lake for the summer with his mother and countless siblings. When he had to decide whether to spend time with his chaotic family or work, the choice was simple: he got a summer job. He was saving money for college because there simply wasn’t any.
Since they first saw each other at the A&W, Janet and Oliver had slowly been approaching one another. If Janet was standing with a group, Oliver joined the conversation. If Oliver stood alone, Janet made herself available. After several days, they progressed from stolen glances to speaking terms. As far as romances went, they were on the unhurried timetable of a Victorian affair.
A couple of the guys had heard of a cherry spot to watch the fireworks, so they were all going to meet at this place called “high rock” and get super baked. Janet was in a mood because Oliver was scheduled to work and unable to attend. Still, she threw on a t-shirt and short-shorts and headed out.
She sulked as the fireworks started. It was a great location; the boys weren’t kidding. From high rock they could see at least seven different towns fireworks displays. It might have even been romantic if she had someone to share it with...
Then suddenly, there he was, smiling at her. Oliver had begged off from work early. His boss had taken pity on him. He sat next to her and boldly took her hand as the fireworks boomed above them.
When the show ended, the group started back down the mountain smoking yet another joint. They got turned around once or twice, finding it funnier each time, running through the dark to get back to where they’d been. Janet didn’t care. They could stay lost forever if the company stayed the same.
When the gang came across a small, moonlit lake in the middle of the woods, the idea of skinny dipping was floated. It was met by surprisingly few female objections.
The boys and girls undressed behind different bushes, then waded out into the initially freezing water that turned lukewarm once you’d been in a few minutes. Janet and Oliver found each other in the water. They held hands again and Janet knew it was coming. She would finally be kissed. She licked her lips gently in anticipation as Oliver leaned in.
Before they could connect, a twig snapped nearby. Someone was spying on them! Janet looked up to see her baby sister, crouched behind a log and trying to stay hidden.
Janet had never been more furious in all her life. “Lynn,” she screamed, stomping out of the water. “Get the hell out of here, you peeping tom!”
Lynn ran for the hills.