That day was the day I learned the truth of Jacob Cohen's words when he had told me that it was the little things that mattered. If I can pass nothing else on, I will just say that there's plenty of hurt and hardship that crosses everyone's path and often the bad stuff comes in the big events and the good stuff in the smaller but if you really hang on to those little good things, they'll see you through the rough patches pretty well.
That day wasn't anything grand but it was happy and peaceful in a way I didn't know anything could be. It was the first day I remember not being nervous about Joanie and how she'd think about something I said or how people'd look at her or if she'd eventually just get sick of how people looked at her. We drove over to the island and wandered around just taking it all in. After a bit we ate the food that Emma had made for me to take. Emma had told me I could take credit but when Joanie had said how much she loved the potato salad, I just couldn't bring myself to lie. And I was glad too as she went on to wonder about some of the ingredients and if I'd have taken credit, I'd have looked pretty foolish not knowing what I had put in it.
After we ate, we lay back on the grass and watched the clouds float over head. The sky was so blue it looked like it had been painted there and the clouds were the puffy ones that floated along and invited small children and young lovers to try to see shapes of animals and castles and the like within them. You know those ink blot tests that shrinks give? Well, the whole point is that you find out what's on a person's mind with those because they will see things related to whatever is weighing on them at the time. If they are worried about being attacked by wolves, they'll see wolves and dogs and if they are thinking about buying a house, they'll see houses and garages and appliances and stuff like that. Clouds are kind of the same way. I don't remember what I was seeing, if you're mind is worry free like mine was that day, you see things like fluffy bunnies and puppies playing fetch. I remember what Joanie saw though. She saw ball gowns and corsages and a tiara which she had to explain to me what that was. I got the hint pretty quick though I don't think she was sending one on purpose. I knew Kid and Lou was getting ready for the one at school and Ike had just mustered the courage to ask Annie. You don't have to still attend school to know what's going on there; especially during prom season. I'll grant you that prom was still a few weeks off but that hardly mattered because apparently girls needed more time to figure out what to wear.
I got quiet for a bit because I knew that she wasn't outright asking me to ask her. I wasn't even sure that she really wanted me to ask her but it was pretty clear that she wanted to go whether she knew she wanted to or not.
"Joanie," I started, "You got a date to your prom yet?"
I was pretty sure the answer but folks had been known to go as friends although in those days there was less of that as boys and girls weren't often "just friends".
"Of course I don't," she said, "I couldn't go with a boy that wasn't my boyfriend unless I didn't have a boyfriend but I do have one so, no, I don't have a date-not that I care or anything."
She threw that last part in for my benefit, I know so I wouldn't feel obligated to ask. I almost took the out she gave me too. I didn't relish the thought of showing up at her high school gym with all those guys who came from money and were heading off to college to make it so they could earn even more of it and live in houses the likes of which I could only look at on TV. But I could also tell that she lied when she said she didn't care. She didn't want to care and not just because it might make me uncomfortable but because she didn't want to think of herself as shallow but I don't think it's shallow to like to get dressed up and have a good time dancing. I think everyone likes that from time to time. It's why there's a party after a wedding, so people can dance in their pretty clothes and girls and women like that more than men and that's okay too. Fact of the matter is men kind of like it when their ladies dress up like that. We all like being that guy with the really beautiful woman on our arm. Our woman might be just as beautiful to us in a burlap bag but that don't mean we don't appreciate when she puts some effort into her appearance.
"I never been to prom," I said, "Is there a rule against me going to yours? If I'm escorting a student, that is?"
"No, I don't think there is."
"Then," I said and I remember I took her hands in mine while I said it. "Can I take you to your prom?"
"You don't have to," she said, "It's a silly thing."
"It might be a silly thing but you want to be there," I said, "There's a lot I can't do for you but I can do this and it might be fun. What do you say?"
She finally smiled and said yes and I could see her mind going to what color dress she'd wear.
We laid on that blanket a while longer just lost in our own thoughts and not feeling the need to share them.
"Thank you," she said out of nowhere.
"For what?" I asked baffled.
"You didn't have to ask me," she said, "I know you aren't fond of school and you can probably think of a thousand things to do that night that might be more fun than a kid party."
"It ain't school I hate," I said, "It's the one I was at. And I can't think of anywhere I'd rather be than where you are."
It don't happen often but sometimes a man says just the right thing to a woman and that time I did. She laid her head on my chest and I wrapped an arm around her and that's how we stayed for a long time. We talked about anything and everything. Some light topics like music and baseball-she was quite a fan-and some heavier things too. She talked about school in the fall and what she was going to study and what she could do with it. She wasn't sure what she was going to major in exactly but she knew she wanted to find a way to make big changes that would help people. She was so disturbed by the inequities she saw in the world and how horribly some people were treated just because of where they were born or the color of their skin or their last name. I had never liked seeing someone pushed down just because his skin was darker either and her passion was easy to get swept up in. If anyone could make those changes she spoke of, I was pretty sure it was Joanie. We talked about her parents because I still couldn't get over how they had treated me like I had the same right to date their daughter as the nicer boys that undoubtedly just lived down the street.
"Not all the boys in the neighborhood want to date a Jew," she said. I think I looked at her like she had four heads.
"There's a big enough Jewish population in Bloomfield," she said, "But not everyone is and out there, people are so very concerned about appearances. For a nice boy from a nice gentile family to date a Jewish girl, well, that would be quite the scandal."
"What's the difference?" I asked.
She just looked at me like I had somehow been living under a rock.
"Well, aside from the religion thing-I mean the fact that I don't go to church and that would be just terrible for them," she began, "There's this whole culture thing and I will admit that ours is a little different. We sometimes speak Yiddish at home and that makes some people very uncomfortable and then there is still the WWII hangover. No one wanted the Jews killed like that but no one really wanted them around either. I don't always understand anti-Semitism-that's what it's called to be prejudiced against Jews-but it's there and just as strong as being anti-negro. And I'm less acceptable than most."
"Why?"
"Some Jewish girls at least look like gentile girls," she said and I think a part of her was a little sad for what she was saying though I wasn't sure if she was sad at the truth or sad because it bothered her. "I do not. I have the hair and the nose and, well, I'm not going the grace the cover of Seventeen Magazine any time soon, if ever."
"I think you're beautiful," I said.
She just gave me a sad smile. I knew that Negroes usually were expected to only date amongst themselves but it never occurred to me that white folks would be grouped like that.
"So, what about the Jewish boys?" I asked. "Don't they want to ask you out?"
"Not often," she said, "I think a lot of them want to ask out the ones who could pass for gentile or maybe they just want a girl that isn't such a loudmouth."
"But you've had boyfriends?" I asked.
"A few," she answered, "They didn't last long."
I thought for a while.
"Is it okay for you to date someone who isn't Jewish?"
"Date, yeah," she said, "Beyond that can get more complicated-not impossible but complicated."
I hadn't given much thought to anything but dating her but then I realized that dating couldn't go on forever and eventually if I wanted to keep spending time with her I might have to deal with whatever she thought was so complicated.
"What happens to us in the fall?" I asked.
"Why should anything happen to us?"
"You're going to school," I said.
"I told you," she said, "It's only Ann Arbor. I can drive here, you can drive there. College schedules aren't the same as high school schedules and I won't have the same curfew. We'll be able to see more of each other than we do now."
"Will you still want to?"
"James!" she sat up quick, nearly spilling the bottle of Faygo in her hand. "How could you even ask such a question?"
"You must have asked it yourself a time or two," I said looking at the blanket we was on like it was the most interesting thing I'd ever laid eyes on.
"I haven't," she said softly, "Not once. I love you. I can't believe you'd doubt that."
I had sat up too by then and I looked as deep into her eyes as I could which was pretty deep and she never even blinked when she said it. I know some folks get pretty good at lying but not many can still hold your stare like she did me that day.
"I don't doubt what you feel for me," I said still holding her gaze, "I just doubt whether you'll keep feeling it."
"So you're afraid I'm going to run off with some college boy and get married and break your heart, is that it?" she asked. I felt stupid but I nodded.
"Well, I find it highly unlikely that I would do such a thing," she said, "Even if any of them would be interested."
I thought to say more but the topic seemed to be closed so I didn't. I decided to move to something lighter and asked where the kids in Bloomfield Hills went for dinner before prom and if she wanted to go with friends or not. It made for a nice chat on the drive back to the garage. It wasn't dark yet when we got there so I decided to see if Joanie wanted to go on a little walk to meet someone. She seemed happy that I'd want to make that sort of introduction. I had been reluctant before for her to spend time with my friends. We went around the corner and there was Emma sitting on Al's porch. They often spent evenings together. They wasn't sweet on each other or nothing like that but I think they just figured that if they was both just sitting on their porches watching the people then they might just as well sit on the same porch and have some conversation as well. I walked up holding onto Joanie's hand and I felt her fingers tense around mine. She had only really met Al in passing and hadn't met Emma at all.
"Well lookie here who decided to wander over to spend a bit of evening with us, Emma," Al said, "It's young Jimmy."
I rolled my eyes at him and just focused my attention on Emma.
"Hey Emma," I said and couldn't get over the smile she had. I guessed this might be what it would be like to take a girl home to my folks, if I had decent ones, anyway. "I thought I'd bring Joanie over to meet you. Joanie, this is Emma Shannon, she sees to it none of us starve or get too uncivilized. Emma this is Joan Cohen."
We were on the porch by that time and Joanie held out her hand to Emma but Emma just walked right past it and pulled Joanie into a hug.
"Oh you sweet thing," Emma was gushing at her and I don't think Joanie quite knew how to act. Emma could have that effect on people, of course she could be tougher than shoe leather too if she was of a mind to.
"It's nice to meet you Miss or is it Mrs. Shannon?"
"It's Emma," she answered and then set to fussing over poor Joanie. "Oh Jimmy, she's so pretty. And this hair, the things I have done to my poor hair to try for ringlets like this."
Joanie was speechless and so was I. I don't think I'd seen Emma go on like that ever. She fussed over Lou some and always called her Louise or some cutesy variation but I don't think I'd ever seen Emma react this way to anyone. I've thought on it every so often through the years and I think she worried more about me than the others sometimes because I was such a loner. I was part of the group but, having dropped out, I wasn't as inside the group as if I'd stayed. I was sort of like an older brother who's cool and doesn't bust your ass so you do want to hang out with him but he's older and can't always relate. I wasn't even that much older but I was living the life of someone who was and I was getting more and more off by myself as the time went on. I think she was just happy I'd made a connection of some sort and she knew how happy Joanie made me. Maybe she knew that she was the closest thing to a mom I was going to have to bring Joanie to meet and wanted to do it up right. I still don't know and it's far too late to ask her.
"Don't I get to be introduced too, Jimmy?" Al piped up. That man was the biggest pain in my ass sometimes. He had met her although never formally introduced.
"Joanie, this is Al Hunter."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hunter," she said and held out her hand. I could see her bracing herself in case she got hugged some more but he just took her hand. Instead of shaking it though he kissed the back of it. He always had claimed to be quite the ladies man and he even had Joanie blushing and stifling a giggle at his action. We sat down and talked a bit. Emma had made some fresh iced tea and it went nice on that evening. I don't recall any of us saying anything of great import but sometimes those are the best conversations to have on a front porch in the beginning of spring. Only one thing would have made it better and that would have been the Tiger game on the radio but it was Sunday and they had played in the afternoon.
I remember I had a vision then and I wasn't sure if it was a happy vision or comforting or if it scared me a bit. Probably it did all three. I just had a vision of someday sitting on a porch watching neighborhood kids play and ultimately get called in for bed time and sipping iced tea and looking over and seeing Joanie there. In this vision, we were much older and had children of our own that were way past an age of being called in for bed time. I know it scared me some to realize it but unless Joanie fell for some college guy or voiced an objection to it, I knew that my days of playing the field or even of swearing off of women were far behind me. I can tell you now, at the ripe old age I have achieved that I didn't miss those days a lick.
I don't think there's too much in this chapter. I am sure that most have figured this out but Bloomfield Hills is a rather affluent suburb of Detroit and has a sizeable Jewish population and boasts one of the oldest reform Jewish temples in the area. Other than that just a mention of Faygo. Faygo is a sodapop made in Detroit and still very popular among Michiganders and apparently the fans of a band named Insane Clown Posse. I do not know why but my son the metal head could tell you. Anyway, aside from Verner's which is a ginger soda (not a ginger ale...it is MUCH more gingery than ginger ale) that is also made here in fact the commercial jingle for Verner's for a while was "Verner's it's what we drink around here" Faygo is just that thing that we all know. I am not sure how far out of the state you can still get Faygo and I am fairly certain there is no international market for it. We love it though. It is still less expensive than other sodas and comes in way more flavors. My older son could live on the red pop and I am a sucker for grape or peach (our local Meijer-another Michigan thing-actually carries 20 oz bottles of diet peach giant hearts for them) and my husband loves the rock and rye which I think is like a cola/cream soda blend. Other son is root beer or orange I think though he's less picky about sodas...anyway, few brands offer those choices and still sell them all in individual sized bottles. And if you're in Detroit and say some of the taco stands, you can still get it in the glass bottles..what a treat that is. Okay, enough of my Michigan gushing...I do love this state.
Oh and I am sorry it has taken a bit to get to this chapter...I have been working the first revision of my novel. It is done! But like I said, working on first revision which is actually more labor intensive than writing the thing to begin with. After this revision will come printing out the manuscript and handing it out to friends with red pencils and letting them get it ready for seeking an agent...so much work and yet so close now to getting to that next glorious step. Oh yeah and recently reconnected with an old friend from college who I had a massive crush on and got to talking about his book which is much further along the process than mine...when it gets published (and it will, I just know it) I will shamelessly plug it here...I have been priviledged enough to read the manuscript (he sent it to me as a birhtday present!) and it is really good stuff! So I have been busy with that and then there is the start of school. I believe that those who have followed my writing a while already know that my boys have special needs which makes the start of school super busy and tiring. But school starts next week and after that, I think I will have more time to devote to writing and this one is really going places. I have so much ground to cover on this story. I don't know if anyone has figured out where this is going...you'd need to know some history of the city to guess it totally...but this is a saga to be sure...it will stretch some years before all is said and done. I love you all for hopping aboard with me for this journey. I wish I could take you all out to the Corner for a game and then to Boblo for some fun but writing is the closest to a time machine I have.-J