The tailing end of my school year in 1978 reminds me of that line I quoted to Pippa once from Robert Browning from the poem that bore her name: ‘God's in his heaven— All's right with the world’. At least it should have been.
I had started off that school year smack dab in the middle with no aspirations. I was quite content in the middle. Of course, seeing Pippa that very first day and falling in love with her the first time I saw her had set me on a different path.
In running, you stay in your lane. That’s one of the first things you learn. You set your eyes forward and you start running. If you’re lucky you finish in the middle of the pack or at worst you lose some ground and you finish somewhere in the bottom. The bottom’s not so bad, all things considered, because when you’re at the bottom the only direction you have before you is up.
I was at the top. That’s a precarious position. It felt like I had finished the long haul I had committed myself to. I had the girl and I had been part of the team that won the long relay; or at least tied for it. I was at the top. Once you reach the top, however, you have no place to go but down. And sometimes it’s not a gentle fall but rather a crashing with debris everywhere.
I had finished grade eleven on that very top note. The assembly to highlight the track and field athletes and to display the hard-won long relay trophy had been amazing. One by one, the track and field athletes had been called forward and the cheering increased with each person who jogged to the stage. I felt sorry for the other athletes when Coach Russell announced John, Marty, Ben and I and then elevated the trophy above our heads. The cheering for us had been substantially more than for any other student who had competed in the All City tournament. I was sure I could hear a few students chanting “Pink, Pink, Pink.”
My newfound celebrity status had been cemented not only by my competing in the relay but by Pippa’s presence in the infield and her kissing me in front of the throng. Standing before everyone in that assembly, I so wanted to beckon to Pippa to come up and claim her place in the presentation. With her playing of ‘Viva, Las Vegas’, I had managed to call on those reserves that John had once cautioned me to hold back. It wasn’t just her singing or the guitar playing but the fact she risked everything to be there for me. She really had sent out a screw them message to anyone from Collegiate who was there and remembered her.
Of course, she had told me that part of the message had also been meant for her mother. She had yelled, “screw my mother.” I knew what that meant. She was longing to break out from under her mother’s control. Pippa had felt her mother had been over-protective and Pippa knew the curfew of returning home from school on time was unnecessary. Still, nothing changed.
Pippa had left the tournament early so she could avoid any conflict with her mother. This continued to apply to every school day and meant any time with me were stolen moments. I wasn’t allowed to see her any earlier than the start of school and certainly not after. Now that practice for the long relay was finished for that year, Pippa had no excuse to stay and cheer her school team. Weekends were also out and I didn’t dare sneak a rendezvous when her mother was at work.
We’d see each other in classes we shared but the rest of the time was a quick hug or a kiss if we passed each other in the hall. At lunch, there were too many people around and we both felt we were being watched since the kiss at the tournament. Some students had been there to witness it while others helped fuel the rumour mill. Even though practices were finished, I still ran the track every day after school and sometimes on weekends. I still had a lot of frustrations to run off.
Pippa didn’t dare tell her mother about us. It was clear her mother couldn’t control Roger now that he wasn’t living under her roof but she was determined to protect Pippa. The issue with Pippa’s father was still unresolved for mother and daughter. I tried to ask Pippa about it once after school to see if there was any news on that front.
“Pink, sometimes it’s like it never happened,” she told me. “My mother doesn’t talk about it. Roger doesn’t talk about it. Frankly, I’m good with the way things are. No movement is at least no movement in a wrong direction. I have to try and keep mom happy.”
“And what about you being happy?” I asked.
“I am happy, Pink. I’m happy I’m with you.” She kissed me and then she headed off home. Damn that curfew!
I started running by the avocado house on weekends sometimes. It was warmer now and I had hoped to see Pippa outside as I ran past. I was sure her mother wouldn’t limit her movement to indoors only.
I never saw Pippa when I ran by. Sometimes there was a car there and sometimes there wasn’t. I wasn’t entirely sure what I would do if I did see Pippa in her yard. If she had been outside and the car was there then I would have kept on running. I probably wouldn’t even have waved. I wasn’t sure what I would have done if she was outside and there was no car present. Unfortunately, I never got a chance to deal with that opportunity.
The last two weeks of school were busy enough with the lead-up to exams. Both Pippa and I did well on the exams and after that, it was summer vacation. I hadn’t thought about a summer job before that year. In previous summers there were a few lawns I could cut regularly to keep me in pocket money. Rod had a job the previous summer working an evening shift at a local Texaco gas station from four to eleven. The summer of ’78 he managed to snag a day shift and was able to recommend me for his old evening slot. It wasn’t very hard. I sat in a kiosk and because it was all self-serve, I pushed a button to activate a gas pump and accepted payment. Near the end of my shift, I had to clean the two bathrooms and sweep around the pump islands.
I should probably put something in here about Rod around that time. Rod and I had been civil with each other since our blow-up after the slapping incident. I had mounted some hatred toward Rod when he had told me about the rumour regarding Pippa and her brother. I didn’t really feel the need to forgive him when I found out the truth from Pippa. My civility towards him grew and we became brothers again but I held back from sharing anything with him about my relationship with Pippa or when I felt I had moved from being best friend to boyfriend.
Rod didn’t ride me about my running or when I’d joined the track team. He didn’t run the Harrier that year himself, having given up after the first couple of years. He had been like everyone else who had seen it just as an opportunity to get out of class. His only comment to me once was “if you have to run, win something for it.” He hadn’t been there the day of the All City but congratulated me after our tie in the long relay.
“Thanks for bringing it back to the school,” was all he had to say. I secretly hoped he was proud of me but we were brothers and pride and admiration weren’t things shared openly. I think his recommendation for me at the gas station was as close to any real acceptance he was prepared to show me.
There was another perk to working at the Texaco. Pippa had a summer job right across the road. It was the busy main thoroughfare through town and it sometimes had the nickname of ‘gasoline alley’ or ‘burger alley’ because there were an equal number of both on that street.
Pippa had convinced her mother to let her have a summer job. Her mother had only agreed when she learned that Pippa’s cousin Sandra was also going to work at the same establishment. It was one of those burger joint chains common to every city. I didn’t care much for their grilled burgers but their fries were good. Occasionally I would stop in before my shift and get an order of fries or a milkshake and would hang around and watch Pippa work the front cash. She was very professional and never acknowledged me as anyone other than a regular customer but the other employees had a sense that this regular customer, who often came in around the same time and sat where he could watch the girls at the front cash, meant more to Pippa than she let on.
The curfew rules for Pippa were still just as strict when she worked. Her mother was informed by Pippa of her shifts and knew how long it would take for Pippa to get home. Her mother expected her around the same time every day or if her mother was working she would phone Pippa and make sure she was in the house. There was only a window of fifteen minutes before Pippa knew her mother would start out looking for her or at least call in the national guard.
Luckily Pippa rode her bike to work every day. This would allow Pippa more time to dally which she could then make up for if she rode faster or took a shortcut. One of Pippa’s favourite shortcuts was of course going through the Texaco parking lot and out the back. I’m not sure how much time this saved her but she used this time to make quick stops at the station. Sometimes she would stop at the air pump and feign putting air in her tires and other times she would ask for the bathroom key. If she was at the air pump, if I wasn’t busy with a customer, it was my cue to meet her at the back of the station. We stole kisses or hugged silently. If she was returning the bathroom key she’d talk to me through the small kiosk window and talk about how hard it was carrying on a limited relationship that way.
Weekends were no different. I wasn’t allowed to see Pippa. Sometimes she’d have a Saturday or Sunday shift but I only worked through the week. I’d wander into her work sometimes and get something to eat on those days but it wasn’t often. I couldn’t talk with her when she was working and staring at her from across the restaurant had no other perks than seeing her.
That summer was the first year that my boss decided to run the gas station twenty-four hours a day. Rod had told me how the previous year he was responsible for closing up at eleven and doing nightly deposits into a safe in the floor. The year I started, they put on an overnight shift and duties were shared between the owner’s son during the week and his buddy on weekends. I heard that the weekend overnight worker wasn’t so bad but the same could not be said for the boss’s son.
Jake, the boss’s son, was lazy. He was required to do a general sweep around the kiosk and the pumps every night but he frequently left it undone. He was also late almost every night. I’d be waiting for him to relieve me at eleven and he’d roll in ten or fifteen minutes late. He wasn’t even smart enough to offer up an apology or an excuse. That only lasted two weeks before things changed again.
I remember one evening near the close of shift that the boss came in and told me they were closing at eleven that night. I didn’t want to pry but he said his son was no longer available to work evening shifts but I was sure that closer to the truth was his son was no longer a choice candidate by the employer to continue as an employee. The short of it was he was out and they started casting around for someone else. The weekend overnight guy, Dave, agreed to pick up a couple of shifts and that left three shifts during the week to be filled. I recommended Ben.
Ben and I had stayed close and continued to have the occasional run together. We hadn’t really associated much outside of the running or the track practices. He was a year behind and most of my non-running time at the end of the school year had been taken up with Pippa. I had continued my weekend runs at the track until the end of the term but had also supplemented running past the avocado house. After summer vacation had started there was one Saturday when I ran into Ben at the track.
“How’s the girlfriend?” he asked me after we ran a couple of laps. The last time he had referred to Pippa as my girlfriend had been after we had completed the long relay at the All City. I had denied it then but I still recall Ben had pointed out the kiss as if to challenge me that Pippa and I weren’t romantically involved.
“It’s still complicated,” I replied. That had become my standard answer. I remember telling him that when Pippa and I were just friends. Our relationship still being complicated didn’t seem like much of a change to me.
“You said that before,” Ben was quick to point out. “I recall you saying once you were friends. Now you’re in a relationship. What’s so complicated about that?”
“It’s a long story,” was all I thought to offer.
“I’ve got time. I don’t have any place to be.” I could see that Ben wasn’t going to let it go this time. I wasn’t sure why he was so interested. Maybe it was common conversation or maybe he really wanted to know. I thought I would take a chance and tell him.
I found myself opening up to Ben. I told him the story behind my pursuit of Pippa and how that had led to my running. I left out the parts that Pippa had disclosed to me at the avocado house. Those weren’t mine to tell. I didn’t mention Pippa’s family dynamics either. I only added the part about how her mother’s current protectiveness was hampering any romance with Pippa.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
“What do you think’s behind all that?” Ben asked after I confessed my story to him.
“I haven’t a clue,” I lied. “I can’t really talk to Pippa about it. She shuts the conversation down when it comes to her mother.”
I told Ben about working at the Texaco and my limited trysts with Pippa. This sparked a reminder that the boss was looking for another overnight person.
“Say, are you in the market for a part-time job?” I asked. I explained about the issue with the boss’s son and how the vacancy came open and what would be required of him.
“I wouldn’t mind,” Ben replied. “I haven’t anything better to do.”
“You mean besides running with me and listening to my lonely heart complaints?” We both had a good laugh about that.
I put in a good word with the boss on Ben and even offered to help train him. Soon Ben was spending a couple of hours with me at the end of one shift. Dave was working that night and Ben stayed on another hour with him learning the overnight responsibilities.
After Ben started on his own, if I was working the shift before him, I started hanging around at the Texaco and talking for an hour with him before heading home. Nothing had changed between Pippa and I and it was good to have someone else to talk to about my problem.
“I’ve been giving that some thought,” Ben offered one night. “The key is not getting in with the daughter but getting in with the mother.”
“I’ve never even met her,” I pointed out.
“You need to find a way on the inside. You’ve got to let the mother get to know you. Maybe then she’ll loosen up.” Ben’s advice was sound enough but I wasn’t sure how to pull it off.
“I don’t think Pippa would go for it,” I stated. “I told you before, she shuts down any conversation about her mother.”
“Never hurts to ask,” Ben replied.
I thought about his advice for a couple of days before I decided to tackle the issue with Pippa.
“No, Pink, it won’t work,” Pippa stated adamantly after I had raised it with her again.
There hadn’t been opportunities for long discussions and this conversation had been broached through the small kiosk window when she returned the bathroom key. My hand had lingered on hers and when she complained again about how difficult these small moments had been on her, I thought I should take Ben’s advice and raise the subject directly.
“It’s difficult on me too, Pippa,” I began. “I’m supposed to be your boyfriend and I only get to see you for a moment here or watching you behind the counter where you work. Just tell your mother about us.”
This is where Pippa came in with the “No, Pink, it won’t work.” “You don’t know my mother like I do,” she continued.
“That’s the problem,” I responded. “I don’t know your mother and unless she gets a chance to know me then things aren’t going to change for us.” I would have thought the obvious would be a good selling argument.
“Let’s not argue Pink.” Pippa pulled her hand back. “I’ve got to go Pink. I’ve stayed too long as it is.” With that, she hurried off to her bicycle and I watched her pedal away at a mad pace. Nothing had been accomplished and I wasn’t sure what the point would be of raising it again.
Things went on pretty much the same for the next couple of weeks. July was rolling along into August and my relationship was still waiting at the chalk line for the starter’s pistol. Pippa’s eighteenth birthday was on the twelfth of August and I had been looking forward to spending some time with her on her special day. At the rate things were proceeding I’d be lucky if I could wish her the best through a small rectangular window.
I had been working on something special for her birthday. I had picked out the perfect gift. I remembered her mentioning to me about the Frank Sinatra television special where he welcomed Elvis home from the army. There was a used record store in the city back then and I had thought maybe the owner might know if there was a soundtrack or something from the special. I had been in the store a few times and he had a really eclectic selection of vinyl records. He knew about the Sinatra special and told me there had been a record called “TV Guide Presents Elvis” that had been issued in Canada in 1971. He didn’t have a copy but had connections with other stores in Toronto and Ottawa and said to leave my phone number and he’d get back to me.
It was getting near the end of July before I heard back from the proprietor of the record store that he had managed to find a copy of the vinyl. It cost me forty dollars but I was glad to have it. Not only did it feature some tracks from the Sinatra special but also selections from other television shows on which Elvis had appeared over the years. I had the record so all I needed was the opportunity to give it to Pippa on her birthday.
July approached August and still Pippa and I were in what seemed like a non-starting relationship. I didn’t dare approach the talk of her mother again. I knew when no meant no with Pippa and I didn’t want to see the spectre of Carlotta rear her head because I had pressed Pippa too hard.
Ben and I continued to talk at the Texaco but we had to curb our running together. Night shifts at the station didn’t allow him the energy for morning runs and on his days off he was trying to regulate or catch up on his sleep.
I continued to run the track alone and mix it up with running by the avocado house. If Pippa saw me running past when I thought she might be inside, she never mentioned it to me. I was beginning to see the avocado house as a fortress where my true love was being held captive away from the ogre me.
Somewhere around the end of July, I began getting glimpses of Pippa’s mother. The first time she was getting into her car and I only saw her from the side. If she noticed me running past, she made no acknowledgement. Another time she was working in the flower beds and I only caught sight of her from behind. Neither time allowed me the chance to form an opinion.
The next time I saw her mother was a meeting I cannot forget. I wish I could but if I’m being truthful in retelling this story then it’s important to note the time I started to screw everything up.
There was no rhyme or reason to the times I ran past the avocado house. Sometimes I ran in the early afternoon on the days I worked an evening shift. Other times were weekends when I hoped to get a glimpse of Pippa. Sometimes I also ran when I knew Pippa was working. I hadn’t expected anything of those times but I could curse the avocado house or Pippa’s mother under my breath as I passed.
On this particular occasion, I was running out my frustrations again and it would be a chance to vent to nobody in particular as I knew that Pippa would be working. I hadn’t expected to see her mother and I had thought I knew best to keep on running by. I should have kept my own advice and kept on going but I didn’t. Again, this is where I started to screw everything up.
As I approached the avocado house, I noticed Pippa’s mother struggling to drag a recliner down the driveway. I knew right away it was her mother because this was a full front-on view and I had almost thought it was Pippa. She had the same facial features, albeit a little older, and the same long blonde hair. The resemblance was amazing. That’s probably why I threw all caution to the wind and stopped in front of the house.
“Do you need help with that ma’am?” I found myself asking. It was an innocent inquiry. It was a friendly gesture and I had no intention to announce myself and say that I was her daughter’s boyfriend and to openly ask for her blessing.
“Why thank you, that’s so kind,” she responded. Her eyes were the same deep blue as Pippa’s. I found myself wondering if this would be how Pippa would look when she got older.
I grabbed one end of the chair and helped carry it out to the road. I recognized it immediately as the recliner that had been in the living room.
“It’s still got some life in it, maybe someone will stop and pick it up,” she said. “I’ve had temporary furniture for almost a year now and it was time for an upgrade.”
It was a solidly built chair and she was right, it still had some life in it.
“Maybe I could stop and rest in it if it’s still here the next time I run by,” I joked. I was a little nervous and trying to watch what I was saying. I certainly didn’t want to give anything away.
“Be my guest,” she responded. “You run by here a lot. You might as well get some comfort out of it while it’s still here. I’ve noticed you before. Are you training for something?”
I knew I should have made some excuse and quickly retreated. She had noticed me running by. I wondered what that meant. Did she know who I was? Did she suspect that there was something between her daughter and I?
“Something like that,” I lied. “This is the course our school runs each year in preparation for tryouts for the track team. I’m trying to improve my time.” Parts of that were true and I hoped it was enough to satisfy her curiosity.
“Oh, you go to the school up the road? That’s a coincidence, so does my daughter. Her name’s Pippa Bailey, do you know her?”
Talk about a loaded question! It seemed innocent enough but how did I answer it without betraying anything? Luckily running had trained me to be quick on my feet and quicker with my thoughts and reactions.
“I think so,” I responded. “We’ve been in some classes together. Pretty. I guess she takes after you.” I thought a charming compliment would disarm her.
“Why thank you, uh, sorry, I didn’t catch your name?” she asked.
“Steve, Steve Wilson.” It was suddenly there on my lips. I don’t know why Steve but the Wilson was the manufacturer printed on the tread of my shoes. I should have told her the truth. I should have said I was Jeff Carter. It would have been a proper introduction I could have built on. She didn’t know Jeff Carter yet but in my mind, she also didn’t know Steve Wilson and Steve Wilson wasn’t dating her daughter. I couldn’t take the chance she had already suspected that Pippa’s pal Jeff Carter was also her boyfriend.
“Well, nice to meet you, Steve Wilson,” she replied without any suspicion. “Can I repay your kindness with a cold drink?”
“Pepsi?” I asked. I knew it was the wrong thing to say as soon as I’d said it. How could I possibly know she had Pepsi? It was a slip-up I couldn’t afford to make.
“Say, you must be a mind reader. I do have Pepsi. It’s also my daughter’s favourite. Of course, I also stock Coke for my son when he’s around. Wouldn’t you know it but the day I have to move furniture he’s off on that damn motorcycle and my daughter’s working.” She hadn’t noticed my slip. I had to be more careful.
“That’s okay, Mrs. Bailey. You don’t really have to bother.” There was another slip. How could I possibly know her last name was Bailey just because it was her daughter’s surname? Didn’t some children have different last names than their parent? She could have been a step-parent for all I knew. Of course, I knew the truth but I was worried that with every word I spoke I was leaving clues to the truth of things.
“No trouble, come on in,” she said. I felt like a fly entering the spider’s web.
She led me into the avocado house and on through to the kitchen and the waiting Pepsi. I noticed that the old recliner had been replaced with something more modern. Nothing else seemed to have changed. There still weren’t any noticeable family photos.
“I wish my daughter was home,” she began after I had taken the offered soda, “I could introduce you. But then you said you already know her.” Oh no, the web was closing in.
“Only in passing,” I lied. “Like I said, we only had a couple of classes together. Besides, I thought she was dating someone on the track team?” That right there, that was the completely wrong thing to say and the moment I realized I had screwed up big time. I thought the deflection away from Steve Wilson was necessary because I thought she was beginning to suspect I was more than I was letting on.
“Do tell. Do you know who he is?” She was digging for more information now.
“No, not really,” I continued with my lies. “I’m not on the track team yet. I have to improve my time. It might be a couple of guys that I’ve heard about.” I had to get out of there.
“It’s okay Steve, she thinks I don’t know but I have other sources.” She stopped for a minute and looked me over. I think I had avoided detection. “What am I going on about?” she began again. “You do me a good deed and here I am grilling you for information. I’m worried she’s keeping secrets from me. It feels like Pippa and this athlete are sneaking around behind my back. Why can’t she be involved with an honest nice young man like you?”
I wanted to blush but I was sure all of the colour had already escaped from my face. She had been laying her web of interrogation and I had responded with a web of lies.
“Thank you, ma’am,” I replied while trying to appear as calm and disinterested as I could. “I think I should get going now. I’m already off my pace. I need to restart my time. Thanks for the Pepsi.”
“It was my pleasure, Steve. Maybe I’ll see you again sometime.” She seemed to have moved on past her inquisition. I think I had managed to avoid revealing any truths.
I ran out of there as quickly as I could. I was still staggering in my mind from the encounter. I knew I shouldn’t have lied. I shouldn’t have made up Steve Wilson but Steve Wilson had served me well. I hoped I wouldn’t need him again.
I had to work that evening. I couldn’t bring myself to go to the restaurant beforehand and secretly watch my girlfriend. I was sure my face would relay the turmoil inside me.
Pippa was right on schedule after her shift and this time she was checking the air in her tires. I knew this was my cue to meet her out back but I was reluctant. I could just as easily have made myself look busy in the kiosk but in the end, I knew this would look like avoidance.
“Hey, you didn’t stop by today,” Pippa said disappointedly.
“Yeah, I was out running and I lost track of time.” The truth sounded plausible if not skimpy on details.
“I missed you today, I thought something had happened.”
“Nope, just another ordinary Pink day,” I tried to reassure her.
“Are you sure everything’s okay? Is there something you’re not telling me?” There was my opening. I could have and should have told her the truth.
“Nothing special, just living the dream” I replied. I didn’t think I was fooling her. How could you tell your girlfriend that you just met her mother and spent time with her as someone else?
“I know what it is and you’ve been so patient Pink. Give me a little more time. I’ll start working on my mother. She’ll come around eventually.”
Who was she kidding? Who was I kidding? Of course, her mother would come around but I was afraid it was going to be to Steve Wilson and Jeff Carter would be left watching the race. My thinking was starting to become muddled. I had to remember that Steve Wilson was made up or they were both me. I had to tell Pippa the truth.
“Listen, Pippa, I…,” I started to say before she interrupted me.
“Oh Pink, I have to go. I’m sure my mother’s already suspicious. If I’m not home on time she’ll never let me hear the end of it.” Pippa was already mounting her bicycle before I could say anything else. She leaned in for a kiss with the bike between us. I was sure that when she got home and her mother talked to her that the bicycle would be replaced by a chasm between us of my own making.