Pennsylvania, 1947
"Give me back my shooter!"
"I ain't got your shooter!"
The scrappy child with the mop of brown hair and serious blue eyes leapt up and tackled the redheaded freckle-faced Irish kid. They tumbled to the ground in a whirlwind of rage, kicking up dust. The redheaded kid took control of the tussle and shoved the scrapper to the ground.
"Say you're sorry," Skinny demanded, hovering a fist over the young boy's face.
"No. I'm not." The small scrapper jumped up and rubbed mud on Skinny's cheek.
"Aw, here's your dumb marble, Gilligan."
"That's Willy Gilligan to you."
-vvv-
Kansas, 1958
"Mary Ann, what in tarnation are you doing up here? Them chickens got out again. If you don't get them back in their pen I'm getting' out the shotgun and blasting them all."
The girl leapt off her perch in the windowseat of the old farmhouse, dropping the book she was reading.
"Sorry, Uncle George, I was…"
"You was nothing. Always got your nose in a book. Waste of dang time, that's what. Little Women. What do they know about butchering pigs?" He swatted Mary Ann on the rump.
"I'll mend the fence, Uncle George."
"Ya better, kid."
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Cleveland, 1960
The young man stood in front of the classroom, trying to keep his hands from shaking. It was the first day of school.
"My…my name is Mr. Hinkley. Welcome to Biology II."
A young redhead in a sweater set eyed the handsome teacher, not paying much attention to what he was saying. She picked up her pen and began absentmindedly doodling hearts on her book.
"…dissection of large albino rats halfway through the term. Audrey?"
The young teacher looked at her sternly.
"Yes, Mr. Hinkley?"
"I must ask you to take this class quite seriously."
"Yes, Mr. Hinkley."
-vvv-
Massachusetts, 1924
The child opened the wooden crate that his sea captain uncle had sent him, pulling out the excelsior happily. The package contained a ship inside a glass bottle. It contained a note.
Jonas, this was something I made on my South Seas voyage. Take good care of it. I will show you how to make one when I return.
"I'm going to put it on my shelf," the boy said proudly. "Someday I'll have a boat just like that, and we'll sail all over the Pacific."
"It's lovely, dear," his mother said. "But a sailor's life can be lonely."
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Long Island, 1941
"Who's that gorgeous young creature?"
The young man looked over at the radiant young debutante, who was currently talking to a potential suitor at a table. She laughed heartily, taking occasional sips from her champagne glass.
"Eunice Wentworth," his sister said. "She's loaded."
"She's lovely," he replied, taking a sip from his own champagne glass. "I wish I could work up the nerve to speak to her. She looks like an angel."
Almost as if on cue, said angel stood up and walked toward the young man, making eye contact with him.
"Hello," she said, with a Vassar accent.
-vvv-
Hollywood, 1959
"A little to your left, sweetheart," the megaphone bawled, as the starlet positioned herself above a papier mache volcano.
"You're offering yourself as a virgin sacrifice to the volcano god," the director said, mopping his brow."
"The volcano god will never believe THAT," the assistant director muttered, gazing at the animal print bathing suit swaddling the statuesque glamazon with the Titian hair.
"I heard that," she replied, batting her eyelashes. "Guess I'll have to take my chances, huh, Roger?"
A whistle blew. "CUT," the director said.
"We haven't been filming yet," replied the cameraman, sighing heavily at Ginger Grant.