Stories from Over the Edge of Time

By Joseph Morton

This is a book of short stories, ending with a memoir. With a couple of exceptions, most of the characters are younger and involved in discovering life's truths.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Apr 20, 2017
• ISBN: 9781483599335

Book preview

Acknowledgments

The first significant warning that Billy was missing something important about girls came in the sixth-grade health class when boys and girls were separated into two groups and taken into different rooms. Before that day, the difference between girls and boys included long hair for girls, short for boys; monkey bars and jump rope for girls, field games for boys; and rapid speech for girls, sound effects for boys. Life was simple. After that day, life grew more and more shrouded in mystery despite the fact that the health class meetings were supposed to clear up any confusion kids had about the facts of life.

Anyway, in their separate rooms, they were shown illustrations (both front and side views) of girls and boys and their distinguishing parts. The boys learned stuff like what they had been calling tits, which some of the girls were starting to acquire, were actually mammary glands, otherwise known as breasts. Most boys later agreed that tits was still the best word for them, but breasts might be better in polite company, which of course would include the presence of any girl. The term mammary glands was given no standing at all: too scientific and evocative of cows and nursing dogs. Howard, who sat to Billy’s right, kept elbowing him and giggling until the teacher suggested the gigglers grow up before they were removed to the principal’s office. They shut up. Indeed, although the boys pretended indifference, their memories trapped and locked away for future reference the proper names and functions of many female parts.

Afterward, as girls and boys came together on their way back to class, Billy had been too embarrassed to meet the eyes of any girl. It was as though he had been spying on them and was now in graphic possession of their most intimate secrets. Suddenly, Billy felt almost naked, because he realized that if the boys had been learning about girl parts, the girls had been learning about boy parts. But this self-consciousness was quickly overrun by an emerging awareness of new prospects for exploration raised by the instruction. He pondered this in the silence sustained by the sound of shuffling feet as they all headed back to the classroom. So deep was his concentration that April’s sudden voice nearly yanked him out of his skin.

What did you think about the presentation, Billy? Because he had been daydreaming about possible explorations suggested by what he had just learned, April’s intrusion on this private scene more than shocked him. It unnerved him. It was almost as if she knew his thoughts. It was also as if she were suggesting something. Billy stammered incoherently. April, who was one of those girls already developing mammary glands, Billy had noticed, laughed.

Billy, you are so precious!

Billy’s face suddenly burned. I think … , he started, but didn’t know where to go with it. He looked away from her face, trying to concentrate, but found himself looking right at her tits. I wish … . He had been caught looking, he could tell by the broadness of her grin.

Billy lived in torment for the next few years. Now that the ruling world had given them a peek into the future of relationships, it guarded that future tenaciously. Meanwhile, the world of girls around Billy grew curves and scents and flirtations. Billy and his friends came to resemble a pack of foam-mouthed, mad dogs tearing at their restraints. That is to say, they were ready for high school. The trouble was few of them knew what to do with that readiness once they were there. For one thing, they didn’t know when, where, or how to ask a girl out, even if they worked up the courage to do so.

This was not too hard on Billy because that one girl hadn’t come along yet. In fact, his next traumatic experience involving girls came from an entirely different direction. It was a week before the big Sadie Hawkins dance, and Billy had given no thought to attending it. Anyway, it was a girl-ask-boy affair, and he had not been asked. He harbored no expectations of being asked. He was quite content with the situation, especially considering he hadn’t in his secret practice sessions yet mastered a single dance step. After school on Monday, Billy dropped Howard, then April at their respective lockers in Freshman Hall. He walked through the obstacle course made by clots of students scattered randomly. Despite the smiles, the nods, the how-are-ya’s, the general jostling, and hum of conversation pierced too often by sudden laughter and slamming locker doors, Billy retreated to his own comfortable world. From which someone now tried to tug him. She had his arm and, small as she was, succeeded in pulling him out of himself. Billy? Billy? Will ya … ?

Becky looked up at him, a hopeful grin flanked by red-white pimples above a flat, plaid-covered chest. He wanted to run. He choked off a scream of terror, of embarrassment, of pity, of pity for both of them caught in this awkward moment. Like a trapped animal, he looked around for a way to escape. What made her think he would be interested in her romantically? What did that say about him? That she thought him desperate? He should never have felt sorry for her, been nice to her, or awarded her the simplest smile.

Will I … ? Hoping he was wrong about her expectations, he glanced this way and that to see who might be witnessing this.

She searched his eyes and must have read him. Hope fled from her expression, leaving behind a tragic ruin. Now she glanced about her, apprehensively. Will … I mean, did you understand math today?

No, he lied, hoping he’d guessed right.

You didn’t look like it, Becky said, obviously somewhat recovered. If you ever need any help, I’m pretty good at it.

Thanks, Billy said. That’s nice of you. They stood there, the din of after-school socializing swirling around them, each searching for words.

Well, she said, finally, I’ve got to catch my bus.

Okay, thanks again, he said.

She turned and walked away, the walk quickening into a run. Relief washed over Billy followed by a wave of self-hatred. Why hadn’t he been strong, especially in the face of her obvious courage? Why was he so relieved, despite her obvious pain? It was her fault for trying to drag him to her level. She should stay with her own. She shouldn’t have put him into that position. Why did all of this have to be so hard?

Two days before the big Sadie Hawkins dance, on a Wednesday, the world changed. After school, Howard rode over to Billy’s on his bicycle. This was not unusual. What was unusual was that April came with him. For the past couple of years, April had disappeared inside baggy blouses and sweatshirts. Today, she wore pedal pushers and a tight, red sweater. Billy saw her and felt something like a guitar strum inside him. She was suddenly slender and fit and fully developed. There was not an angle, not a pose, not a movement that did not make Billy want to groan with yearning. She rode circles in the street, her blond hair flowing behind, white teeth flashing in a broad smile, calling: Come on, Billy-boy. Get your bike and ride with us.

Where to? he asked.

School, Howard said.

There’re puddles all over the parking lot and the track, April called. We’re going to splash ’em!

For the rest of the afternoon, Billy watched her move; listened to her clear, ringing voice; and smelled from time to time her faint, yet lavish perfume. He could see that Howard too looked at her with new eyes.

It took more than an hour to work up the courage to ask her. So, who’d you ask to Sadie Hawkins? He’d slipped the question in while she and Howard (the handsome boy-gossip) talked about some of the improbable couples they’d heard about.

Wouldn’t you like to know! she called happily.

Billy could think of nothing to say.

She said, It’s a state secret. If I told you, I’d have to kill you. She laughed. He’d heard this witticism before, but her joyful, ringing voice, her clear abandon made it seem new.

Beside him, Howard laughed loudly to let her know he got it. This irritated Billy. At this moment, Howard’s very existence irritated Billy, and this feeling was intensified when he realized Howard could not tear his eyes away from her. Suddenly, Billy was afraid Howard would ask April to the Sadie Hawkins dance. He wanted to blurt out an invitation of his own before Howard worked up the courage. But that could be a fatal mistake, couldn’t it? Girls were supposed to ask the guys, weren’t they? On the other hand, what if Howard asked, and what if she thought him daring for it? He thought of April dancing with Howard, of her smiling up at his handsome face, laughing at his stupid comments, resting her head on his shoulder, her body against his. His own imagination was tearing him apart. He opened his mouth to speak. Nothing came out. He felt a momentary relief. He remembered Becky in the hallway. Wasn’t he like Becky at this moment? Wasn’t he about to meet with rejection and embarrassment? The comparison made his face hot.

In the next moment, he wished he had gone ahead. What did he have to lose, anyway? He had never felt a romantic kind of interest in April before now and he’d got along fine without her. Well, not entirely without her. They had been casual chums forever. From nowhere came a sudden flash of anger. It wasn’t his fault. She had been hiding herself in frumpiness. What could she expect?

They were standing in the school parking lot, just below where the busses came and went. For the first time, Billy noticed April was riding a boy’s bike and the crossbar came nearly to her crotch. For some reason, the image fascinated him. She had long legs, he thought. It was starting to get cold, and the light was dimming.

Well, I’d better get home for dinner, April said.

I’ll ride you home, Billy said. His quickness surprised him; he had said it without thinking.

How gallant, April said. I thank you, kind sir.

They started off. Howard, for the first time, followed at a short distance. Billy racked his brain for something to say, but she was the first to speak.

Have you finished your English homework yet? It was the one class they had together.

No. What a crappy assignment.

I kind of liked it, she said.

After a while he said, Girls probably like that poetry stuff better than boys.

She laughed. Her voice was so clear today.

I like a boy who has more than one side to him, she said.

You do? What’s his name?

She laughed again. I meant boys in general. I like them to have many interests, not just sports.

I like music, he said, and instantly regretted it. Was he too obviously trying to fit her expectations? I guess everybody likes music, though, some kind of music anyway. He felt he was digging himself a deeper hole, but he couldn’t stop there. I like reading, he said.

They had passed his house, and now Howard peeled off on his street and called: See you later, ya crazy lovebirds!

See you later, Howie, April laughed.

See you, How, he called. Howard’s life’s work is to embarrass me.

Are you embarrassed now?

Yes.

Because he called us lovebirds?

I guess, he said. He wanted to ask her so badly he ached. He wanted to ask her, then put his arms around her and lower his mouth to hers.

You don’t like being called a lovebird? They pulled into her driveway and dismounted.

Words were becoming objects with weight and edges and corners. I would, he said, his face burning, if I … if we were. A huge lump formed in his throat. She grinned broadly.

You want to be my lovebird? she asked, her voice clear and calm.

How could she do that? He couldn’t speak. He nodded. His eyes stung a bit.

Should we go in and talk about what we’re reading? she asked.

That would be fun, he said. They walked toward the porch. He wiped first one, then the other sweaty hand on his pants. Billy did not think he had ever known such joy, or, strangely, such terror. He wondered if they always went together that way. She took his hand at the door. She smiled up at him.

Lovebirds kiss, you know, she said.

There was the terror again. He had never kissed a girl. He tried to remember a movie kiss, but movies didn’t show how things worked inside the kiss. She placed a hand behind his head and pulled him to her. Her lips were soft, and it seemed to Billy at this moment that April had planned all of this.

It’s so stupid, the girl said. How is any of this li-ter-a-ture, spitting the word out in chunks, as if to describe a kind of distasteful and snooty foolishness, going to ever help us in our lives?

How many times already in his brief career had James Nelson heard this argument? If you could call it that. Usually it was delivered by one of the failing, angry kids, in this case a girl who had situated herself in the back row for secret note passing, texting, and the applying of cosmetics. A small chorus of supporters, who had also failed to complete the assigned reading, grumbled.

I’m sorry, Miss Branch, he said. You are entitled to your opinion, but your opinion does not excuse you from taking the quiz.

Well, the girl persisted, my dad says he had to read the same book when he was in high school, and said it was un-Christian and should be banned.

Teachable moment! James thought, and, hoping to initiate discussion, said, So, what would be the un-Christian parts so far, Miss Branch?

She said nothing.

Miss Branch?

Face and neck flushed in anger, she said, You’re just trying to embarrass me, Mr. Nelson, and I won’t go along with it!

I’m sorry, Miss Branch. The last thing in the world I want to do is embarrass you, James said, meaning it. Good rarely came as a result of a student’s embarrassment. You brought up what you claimed was an un-Christian aspect in the book. So, naturally, I thought you might want to discuss it. Anyone else? he said, opening the subject for anyone’s thoughts. Several hands went up. Nancy? he asked.

Well, Nancy said, a touch of quaver in her voice, there is the choir all in black, and from a distance, it looks like some kind of beast.

Excellent! James said. Black possibly symbolic of … ? Bill?

Well, symbolic of death, I suppose, or evil. But I was thinking of Jack’s red hair, his ugliness, his knife.

Interesting! And all this implying … ?

Well, he’s like a devil, isn’t he? Bill said. Like Satan.

And he’s the head of the choir, so isn’t that kind of anti-Christian? Nancy said.

James Nelson shrugged. There is that possibility. But is the threat of death or the presence of evil un-Christian? Or are they facts of life, and is the way we face them important to our lives? Anyone else? No one volunteered. Well, you’ve made some excellent points; so, as we read on, observe closely how our characters behave when faced with these threats. He had been moving around the room and now stopped front and center. Any more discussion before the quiz? Questions?

After school, James Nelson sat at his desk thinking. He had just taught three, ninety-minute-long classes and felt drained, even a bit beat up. Rode hard and put away wet came to mind. He found himself chuckling softly. Why on earth did he like this job so much? Was it one of those conundrums wrapped in an enigma? He chuckled more and felt his energy rising in him, like a small tide. There was no need analyzing it. The need for analysis would follow if the question were instead, Why did he keep doing a job he hated so much? He looked around him, feeling wrapped in joy. Across the room, in the corner, the door stood open, an invitation to any student who might want help. On the desk in front of him stood stacks of quiz papers and essays. He’d better get with it, he thought, while he still had the chance.

James Nelson lowered his head and began reading the first of the Contemporary Literature quizzes. As luck would have it, the first effort belonged to Barbara Branch. Actually, she had responded to none of the five questions the quiz had asked. Rather, she had ranted on about how teachers should not be allowed to humiliate students, how it destroyed their self-esteem, making it impossible for them to learn and how she would get even. The words get even were underlined in red.

As he read, the door to the classroom closed and by the time he looked up, Barbara Branch stood before him, her blouse open and her bra pulled up, fully exposing both breasts. The shock of this threw James Nelson back in his chair. How often had the faculty discussed this kind of danger? Horrified, he looked for the classroom doorway and found it blocked by the door itself, a strict violation of a school policy aimed at preventing these kinds of situations. Her face wore a sick, triumphant smile.

Miss Branch! The loudness of his own voice frightened him. Good God! Cover yourself! He stood up, his chair crashing to the floor behind him, and reached to cover her.

Just then, the classroom door opened, and Peggy Smith, Barbara Branch’s soul sister, walked in and gasped dramatically: Oh, my!

Bu-u-s-s-ted, Barbara Branch sang softly as she retreated. Then, in great alarm: Mr. Nelson, how could you ever think … ? The two girls fled, and James thought he heard them giggling away down the hall.

James Nelson stood for a moment paralyzed