Sherry and the Unseen World

By Holly W. Schwartztol

It is summertime in the late 1950's and you can practically feel the hot sand on your feet, hear the screen door slamming and taste the penny candy at the local ice cream parlor.

But beyond this idyllic facade, life is changing for Sherry Waxman. Her friends' parents are divorcing right and left, her mother criticizes everything she does, and her grandfather is having a romantic liaison with a woman thirty years his junior. Sherry falls in and out of love as she struggles to understand everything from the meaning of life to her own awakening sexuality. With her parents preoccupied with their professions and their tennis tournaments, Sherry and her friends must fend for themselves.

When Sherry's Aunt Geraldine arrives, the glamorous yet down-to-earth woman presents Sherry with a unique and special gift, showing her how to draw strength from the unseen world. Geraldine teaches Sherry and her friends how to empower themselves by connecting with their spirituality. As Sherry matures, she learns of her own intuitive gifts and how to use them to overcome obstacles and gain self-confidence.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Aug 19, 2005
• ISBN: 9780595803644

Holly W. Schwartztol

HOLLY W. SCHWARTZTOL has a PhD from the University of Miami and has practiced psychology for thirty years. She is a past president of both the South Florida Writers Association and of the Dade County Psychological Association. Her novel Sherry and the Unseen World was published in 2005. Holly and her husband, Robert, have three children and two grandchildren.

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Copyright © 2005 by Holly W. Schwartztol

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Sherry and the Unseen World is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

ISBN-13: 978-0-595-35908-0 (pbk)

ISBN-13: 978-0-595-80364-4 (ebk)

ISBN-10: 0-595-35908-6 (pbk)

ISBN-10: 0-595-80364-4 (ebk)

Printed in the United States of America

For Larry, Andrew, and Jill

Contents

Acknowledgements 

PART I

SUMMER, 1957 

CHAPTER 1 

CHAPTER 2 

CHAPTER 3 

CHAPTER 4 

CHAPTER 5 

CHAPTER 6 

CHAPTER 7 

CHAPTER 8 

CHAPTER 9 

CHAPTER 10 

CHAPTER 11 

CHAPTER 12 

CHAPTER 13 

CHAPTER 14 

CHAPTER 15 

CHAPTER I6 

CHAPTER 17 

PART II

SUMMER, 1958 

CHAPTER I8 

CHAPTER 19 

CHAPTER 20 

CHAPTER 21 

CHAPTER 22 

CHAPTER 23 

CHAPTER 24 

CHAPTER 25 

CHAPTER 26 

PART III

SUMMER, 1959 

CHAPTER 27 

CHAPTER 28 

CHAPTER 29 

CHAPTER 30 

CHAPTER 31 

CHAPTER 32 

CHAPTER 33 

CHAPTER 34 

CHAPTER 35 

CHAPTER 36 

CHAPTER 37 

CHAPTER 38 

CHAPTER 39 

CHAPTER 40 

Acknowledgements 

There are many that I wish to thank: my dear friend, Julie Gilbert for recognizing Sherry’s place in the world and for her years of encouragement and expert editing; Dr. Stephanie Carter, my good friend and colleague, who fervently believed that Sherry needed to be published; Peggy Brodsky for her patient and devoted attention to detail and for being such a good friend for over forty years.

A special thanks goes to my friends, Claire Andersen, Dr. Barry Morris, and Dr. Dorothy Sasmor.

I thank those who have journeyed with me on my own path in the unseen world.

I thank Robert Schwartztol, my husband and the love of my life, for listening night after night to each new installment of Sherry and the Unseen World.

And, finally, thank you to my parents, James and Nancy Wechsler for making Westport a part of my life and for having the genius to purchase the house by the beach that would be the inspiration for my novel.

PART I

SUMMER, 1957 

CHAPTER 1

 

The screen door slammed with a familiar sound on a languid summer morning in Westport. Walking outside, Sherry could smell the sweet fresh scent of honeysuckle that grew on a trellis right outside the front door.

Sherry took a deep breath and filled her lungs with the soft summery air. It was very early and her parents were still asleep. The morning belonged to her as she skipped merrily onto the driveway hearing the crunching sounds of the small pebbles beneath her sneakers. She felt exhilarated and full of young girl energy.

Sherry was on her way to Compo Beach to search for the shells the tide had brought in during the night. When she got to the beach, she discovered that it was low tide. Sandbars dotted the Long Island Sound and the jetty that was covered at high tide revealed its craggy rocks. The beach was cluttered with dried seaweed and bits of driftwood. And, then she began to see the coveted shells...many with pieces broken off, rendering them less valuable. She combed the beach for the ones that resembled tiny rowboats and those that were fragile, pearly orange and yellow. Her mother had taught her how to string the orange and yellow ones together to make necklaces.

Sherry stuffed the pockets of her plaid shorts with the prized shells. She felt gleeful that she was alone, save for a lone woman walking her dog further up the beach. The air was sparkly and clear, although the sun was beginning to shine, promising a very warm and sultry summer’s day.

Soon the beach would be filled with parents and children at her end of the beach. Adults often dragged their beach chairs and towels and toys, scouting out a perfect place to plop down and spend the morning or the afternoon or maybe even the whole day. Some would bring beach umbrellas and grind them into the sand to keep them from toppling over when the occasional wind blew. Toddlers always brought their ubiquitous pails and shovels. They would sit in the sand and begin spooning the sand into their pails until their attention was interrupted by the arrival of an old friend or a seagull that might have landed nearby.

At the far end of the beach, the public part, the crowds were often so dense that Sherry could barely finds bits of sand to walk on. The teenagers hung out there; the girls with their bikinis, lying stretched out on their towels or splashing suntan oil on their bodies and the boys eying the girls. Radios blared with the new sounds of Rock ‘n Roll. Elvis Presley and the Everly Brothers and Buddy Holly and the Crickets.

Sherry and her friend, Merry, spent many afternoons curiously gazing at the teenagers. They had older brothers who often mingled with the throngs of teens and explicitly made it clear that little sisters were not welcome. So, Sherry and Merry would go to the stand. The stand was a dark little place that sold hamburgers and hot dogs and chips and ice cream. There the girls would seek out the jukebox and for a nickel a play would select songs such as Bye Bye Love or Peggy Sue, mimicking the taste of their older siblings and tapping their feet.

But, for now, Sherry was alone on the beach and as she felt her pockets being weighed down by the shells and an occasional pretty pebble, she realized that she was hungry. The stand wasn’t open so early in the morning, so Sherry began retracing her steps toward home. The neighborhood was beginning to waken and there were sounds of many screen doors slamming as people began to emerge from their houses.

Sherry hurried home to find her mother in the kitchen dressed for the tennis court. Her parents were avid tennis players and liked to get to the courts before the sun got too hot.

Well, where in the world have you been? asked her mother.

Sherry could feel her carefree morning beginning to slip away.

I was at the beach looking for shells.

Well your room is a mess. You need to learn to straighten up before you begin on your jolly way, Sherr.

Leslie had a way of saying Sherr that sounded like She-err.

But, Mother! I got up so early. I haven’t even had breakfast yet.

Sherry heard the sounds of her brother, Neil. He noisily clumped down the stairs and announced, I’m starving! What’s for breakfast?

Their mother looked a little piqued and said, Well, if you want me to make something for you to eat, kids, you better get a move on it because Daddy and I are leaving for the courts in twenty minutes.

So, if Neil sleeps late and then wants breakfast, it’s just fine.

Leslie pursed her lips into a thin line and glared at her daughter.

Sherry. You are overreacting. All I said was that I want you to take some responsibility.

Neil looked at his sister and raised an eyebrow.

I guess this isn’t the time to ask you to make waffles.

Waffles? Certainly not. I have no time for all that. Don’t look so crestfallen, Neil. Look, I’ll make French toast, but Sherr you better help me by setting the table.

Why me, said Sherry. Why doesn’t Neil have to help?

Because you’re a girl. Neil does other things.

That’s not fair!

She began gathering the plates and forks, scowling at her brother. Her carefree early morning at the beach had instantly evaporated.

Their mother, Leslie, hurriedly rooted around for eggs, bread and butter, as she looked at her watch, and began banging things around in the kitchen. She unearthed the frying pan from a cabinet beneath the sink. Leslie was an attractive woman, in her early forties. Her dark blond hair was styled in the latest permanent. She would inevitably come in from the hairdresser complaining that she didn’t like what he had done. Leslie rarely seemed satisfied with her choices, not just for herself, but for others as well. She would buy birthday presents for her children and then apologize before they opened the gifts, saying something like,

I’m not at all sure that you will like this...

Leslie was an extremely talented, yet modest woman. She had attended law school back when women barely finished college and had graduated at the very top of her prestigious law school class. She was part of a law firm in New York City now and often brought work home on the weekends. Not to mention the constant phone calls that took up her precious vacation time, something that constantly vexed her husband, Harry.

Harry had just come down the stairs. He was dressed for tennis and he smelled slightly of shaving cream.

He popped his head into the kitchen and said, Good morning, kids. Les, where did you put the Times?

Sherry’s father read every newspaper. He read the New York Times, the Journal-American, the Herald Tribune and the New York Post. He had to read all those papers because he himself was a newspaper editor. He was a liberal democrat, par excellence and his editorials were considered quite brilliant by his readership.

Harry sat down at the dining room table in the dimly lit dining room. The family lived in a colonial style house that had been built in the 1920’s. The inside walls were stucco with exposed beams downstairs. It was a lovely house at the dead end of the road. The house was made of white shingles with green window shutters and was situated on a lovely piece of property with a large willow tree and maple trees in the backyard. Some years, Leslie planted vegetables. One year the tomatoes were large and juicy. Sherry would always remember those as the best tomatoes in the whole world.

Leslie always had a flower garden, which she tended devotedly. When Sherry was very little, the garden was filled with purple and yellow pan-sies. Some years there were stately zinnias and occasionally beautiful roses adorned a vine just outside one of the living room windows.

Sherry tried helping her mother in the garden from time to time but she never really got the hang of it. She liked to plant seeds, but she didn’t really like weeding and maintaining the garden. She would get dirty and insects would bite her and she would give up on gardening. But, her mother never tired of working with her flowers.

Sherry and her father had already begun buttering and pouring syrup onto the toast. They used Vermont maple syrup, which her grandparents had brought them from one of their recent trips to upper New England. Everyone marveled at Sherry’s grandparents. While other people’s grandparents sat around and played cards, Nana and Marshall Hir-shman were active and full of energy. Marshall was also a lawyer, and a famous one at that. Sherry could never remember why he was so famous, but apparently he had worked on very important cases and had argued some of those before the Supreme Court in Washington, D.C. He and Leslie would have long, boring conversations about the law and Sherry would excuse herself and leave the room. Nana was an elegant woman who was a wonderful cook and a playwright and she was much more attentive to Sherry. She’d ask Sherry about things that were important to her and not just go on and on about politics.

Sherry’s grandparents walked every day, even in the cold northern winters. Marshall never wore a topcoat even when the weather reached down into the low teens. They’d walk on the Palisades in New Jersey and through Central Park in New York City. And they traveled extensively in their car, although they rarely flew anywhere. But, then, Sherry had never been in an airplane herself and didn’t know if she would want to.

When Sherry and Neil were younger, their grandparents took them and their cousins on Sunday expeditions to places like the Bronx zoo or to museums or for walks in the woods. Marshall would walk way ahead, never seeming to notice how hard it was for Sherry to keep up with him. He seemed to just do whatever he wanted to do and didn’t care much whether what he did bothered other people.

What time will you and Daddy be home? I want to go into town and buy a magazine, Sherry inquired.

Well, Sherr, I’m not sure. And when we do get back I have some gardening to do, but maybe after lunch I can take you. Meantime, make sure you make your bed and straighten up your room.

All right! I will, but then I am going over to Merry’s house to watch t.v.

T.V.?? On a beautiful day like this? Why don’t you two go to the beach? Maybe Merry’s mother can watch you swim. You need to find something constructive to do, Sherr. You can’t just fritter your time away every day!

Why can’t we? It’s summer, Mother. In case you haven’t noticed..

Don’t take that tone with me, young lady.

Under her breath Sherry muttered, We’ll do what we want to do!

Sherry’s mother was always telling her to clean her room or do this or do that. It made Sherry mad. But, she trudged up the stairs and threw her bed together. The mattress was very heavy and hard for her to lift. And, no matter how she tried, she never seemed to be able to get the sheets on straight. Eventually, she would toss the bedspread over her shoddy workmanship, pick up the mess on the floor and move it to a bureau. Sometimes, she’d just shove the mess under the bed and hope that her mother didn’t find out what she’d done.

Sherry thought then about how much she missed her Aunt Geraldine. Every summer, when Sherry was very small, Aunt Geraldine and Uncle Charlie would come visit for a few weeks. Three years ago, Charlie had been killed in a boating accident. Leslie and Harry hadn’t let Neil or Sherry go to the funeral, although they’d gotten to go to something called Shiva a couple of days after. There had been lots of cold cuts and things to drink and all the grown-ups had seemed to be having a party to try to comfort Geraldine. Because Uncle Charlie had been a foreign correspondent, he had frequently been away on assignments, causing him to miss part of the summer visits, so Sherry didn’t know him as well as she did her aunt.

Aunt Geraldine was an intuitive who delighted in teaching Sherry about the unseen world of devas and angels. Sherry just adored her aunt.

It’ll be a dull summer if Geraldine doesn’t come, thought Sherry. She always understands how I feel and doesn’t criticize me.

She heard her parents gathering their tennis balls and their rackets and then she watched as they got into their car. Her mother always drove, because her father didn’t like driving. He was a nervous passenger as well. Once, Sherry had gone with her father on an errand when he was driving and she got very edgy because he stopped the car at every driveway! So, it was a family agreement that Daddy shouldn’t attempt to drive.

Now, as her parents drove away, Sherry breathed a sigh of relief. Neil had already left to visit one of his friends. He’d ridden his bike and she’d heard the crunch of the driveway again. Sherry liked being alone in the house. She could loaf around and do whatever she wanted to do without anyone telling her not to waste time.

Sherry went down and walked through the little tunnel that led to the driveway and into the garage. She got her own bike out and climbed onto it, finding her balance and pushing the pedals hard so that she could negotiate the gravel. It felt better when she drove onto the street. She biked around the corner and down the next block to Merry’s house.

Merry’s house looked something like a barn. Of course, there were no horses or cows or anything like that. Outside it was gray wood and inside it was strange. The second floor had a balcony overlooking the first floor. Then, there was a stone porch off the living room downstairs where once, when Sherry was six, she had had a terrible fall. She and Merry and some other kids were playing a game where they leapt from one piece of furniture to the next. Sherry stood on a small white table and suddenly the table pitched backward and Sherry landed on the stone floor where there were broken shells all around. She lost consciousness for a minute or two and woke up on the couch. Merry’s maid, Nola, was there and put an icepack on Sherry’s head. She cried as much out of fear as of pain. Finally, her mother arrived and took her to the doctor who told them to watch and see if she got nauseous or dizzy. Sherry thought he said she had a mild concussion. She didn’t know what that was, but it didn’t sound good. So, Sherry always felt a bit wary about climbing on things after that.

She arrived at the door and Merry came and let her in. Merry was wearing shorts and a tee shirt. It irked Sherry that Merry always wanted to play at her house and that she hardly ever came to Sherry’s. But, once they got together, they were thick as thieves and generally had a good time. They were nearly the same age, although Sherry was a few months older than Merry. They had been friends since they were three when they met on the beach. Their parents became friends, as did their brothers. One day when they were very small, they both learned to swim on the same day. They were just bouncing up and down in shallow waves and both jumped on the same small crest that boosted them and supported them and before they knew it, they were both swimming and laughing. You had to be careful about laughing in the waves or you would suddenly swallow a mouthful of the salty water.

People who met the girls sometimes got confused about which one was Sherry and which one was Merry. It wasn’t that they looked alike, just that the names were so much the same. Perhaps, the most striking difference in their appearance was that Merry’s face was filled with freckles and she also had a birthmark on her chin that looked as if she had eaten some light chocolate ice cream and had forgotten to wipe her face. Eventually, Merry received hot ice treatments to remove this facial feature, but when the girls were ten as they were this summer, the mark was still there. Sherry thought the birthmark really kind of made Merry look cute.

The other difference was the way they dressed. Merry had trendier clothes that matched and looked expensive, while Sherry’s awareness of fashion was decidedly lacking. This was in part true because her mother dressed her in mismatched clothes. Years later, Sherry would look back at her pictures and wonder what her mother could have been thinking. Also, Merry had a rich relative in California who sent her lovely things. Sherry yearned for some of these things, like the adorable pink patent leather purse that Merry sometimes sported when they went out to dinner in the evenings with her parents. The purse was dainty and very shiny with a little gold clasp. Sherry always secretly wished for that purse.

Well, Merry, what do you want to do today?

We have to watch the magician program that’s on in ten minutes!

Sherry remarked, My mother got all mean about me watching t.v. on a summer’s day. She said we should go to the beach or some-thing.she gets on my nerves. She’s always telling me to do something like make the bed or set the table or read some silly book she liked when she was my age. She never lets me just be! Does your mother do that too?

"You think that’s bad. My mother makes me help her sweep the kitchen and make my bed. Mothers. We’ll never be like that. We’ll let our children do whatever they want. My father is much nicer to me than my mother. He lets me do just about anything I want."

Sherry chimed in, Yeah. Mine too. He listens to me and acts as if what I have to say is important. And, he never tells me to do chores and stuff. And he lets me sit with him while he watches baseball. I wish he was home more though, Sherry said wistfully.

Come on, Merry said. Let’s go watch that program. Then, maybe we will go to the beach. I’ll see if Mommy can take us."

Sherry and Merry watched in awe as the magician pulled rabbits out of a hat and made things disappear. Although they watched carefully, they couldn’t figure out how he did the tricks. Then, he actually sawed a woman in half! They saw it with their own eyes. They loved magic and began planning how they would become famous magicians when they grew up.

Maybe I could find a magical way to get my bed made! exclaimed Sherry.

That would be so great!

Yeah, I know what you mean. And, we could have all the toys we wanted, said Merry excitedly.

And all the candy and cake and everything, Merry said.

Suddenly, Merry’s mom poked her head in the room and said,

Are you girls still watching t.v? What were you watching anyway? Not that silly magical show again. Come on out of there. Why don’t you girls go outside?

Merry’s mom, Ava, had a nasal, whiny voice. She was a waiflike dark haired woman who frequently wore shorts. Sherry was kind of grossed out by Mrs. Popkin’s legs, which were lined with ugly blue veins against her very white skin. Sherry hoped that when she was forty she wouldn’t have such ugly lines in her legs. Sherry’s mother, too, had spidery veins in her upper legs, but you couldn’t see them unless Leslie was wearing a bathing suit.

Ava was a teacher at a local university in Brooklyn. Merry’s dad, Arthur, was a large, ruddy-faced man who loudly voiced his opinions and was rather bossy toward Ava. He was a businessman, in charge of a chain of supermarkets, who liked to converse with Sherry’s parents about politics. He looked like a movie star. He drove big fancy cars and dressed stylishly the way Merry did. Sherry especially noticed his Cadillac when it was new. The red interior smelled of new leather which both attracted and repelled Sherry who found that the intense smell could almost make her feel carsick. There was something both powerful and intimidating about Arthur.

Smiling conspiratorially the girls dutifully turned off the television and Merry murmured, Don’t worry, Sherr. We’ll get to watch this again next week. And, maybe by then we’ll have come up with our own tricks.

They darted outside and began prancing around in the yard. The sun was out in full force by now. After a few minutes, Sherry lay down and breathed in the aroma of freshly cut grass. For a while, she stared up into the atmosphere. She saw dancing energy and became engrossed as she watched the shapes of the fluffy clouds that moved across the blue sky. She felt a kind of peaceful contentment. All seemed right with the world and Sherry felt as if she could just lie there forever.

Come on Sherr, let’s get something to eat. Want to go to the stand?

They got onto their bikes and rode. Much of the time, Sherry stood up on the pedals to make the bike go faster. She loved riding around the neighborhood, especially on the way back from the beach when she could ride her bike down a small hill and just let the bike gain momentum and then coast down. Sherry felt free and adventurous when she rode.

She remembered how she had labored three summers earlier to learn to ride a two-wheeler. She’d had a bike with training wheels, and then it was time to take the training wheels off. Her father had held onto the back of the bike so that Sherry could get comfortable. She had looked back to make sure that her father was still there and she would ride swiftly up the street. Then, one day she rode all on her own and both her parents grinned when she glanced back for their support.

For now, she and Merry sped towards the stand. When they got there, they set the kickstand on their bicycles and hurried inside. They got on line behind some teen-age boys who were alternately laughing and smacking each other in the shoulder with their beach towels, the way boys do. They were raucous and barely noticed Sherry and Merry. They exuded an odor of suntan lotion and had sand sticking to their bare feet and legs.

Sherry and Merry began tapping their feet impatiently. Suddenly, they heard a lot of screaming coming from outside. They ran out the door and saw a dog racing wildly around the cars that were parked outside. Then, they saw that the dog was chasing a little boy and that the boy was bleeding profusely from his leg. The little boy couldn’t have been more than five years old and tears were streaming down his face. A crowd was gathering and then a large man grabbed the child and scooped him up.

Daddy, Daddy...the...dog...the dog.he bit me! The child was choking on his sobs and the dog was growling menacingly at both the child and the father.

Stay away! Git! yelled the boy’s father.

The dog continued growling. He was a big black shaggy looking thing. His teeth were bared and he was panting in the hot sun. Droplets of slobber were falling out of his mouth onto the ground. The man stood still, afraid to move. His little boy clung to him crying piteously. Blood dripped from the gash in his leg.

Then the boys who had been waiting in the line in front of the girls came barreling out and surrounded the dog. One boy took a large beach towel and threw it over the dog while the other boys pounced on the animal and wrenched him away from the scene.

Botsy, what are you doing here? Who let you out?

Do you know this dog, asked the boy’s father angrily.

Yeah, said the teen whose name was Tony. He’s my dog. He must’ve followed us to the beach. But he never bites anyone. Your son must have been teasing him.

Oh, really? He doesn’t look like a very nice dog to me.. .what is your name? Who are your parents?

Why do you need to bring in my parents? I’m sorry your boy got hurt. I think you better take him home and clean out the wound. I’ll take Botsy home with me and put him in the house.

Just then a policeman rode up on his motorcycle. He was a large uniformed man whose belly hung out over his pants.

What seems to be the problem here?

That boy’s dog just took a chunk out of my boy’s leg. I’m going to take him to the pediatrician right now. I want that dog locked up for good!

That’s not fair, said Tony. Botsy never hurt anyone in his life. That little boy must have done something to rile him up like that.

That may be, son, but we have to take Botsy with us and have him checked for rabies. Let me get your names, so I can write up a report!

Rabies? Oh my God! the father said. My name is Wes Longman and this is my son, Jeffrey. Rabies? Does that mean Jeffrey is gonna have to have a bunch of shots?

Shots? Nooooooo, Daddy. No shots. No no no no no!

It’s ok, Jeffrey. Don’t worry. You’ll be okay, Wes said, as he gently wiped the tears from Jeff’s eyes with his shirt.

Botsy doesn’t have rabies. That’s just ridiculous, Tony intoned.

We have to have him checked, son. That’s the law. Now, what’s your name?

Tony Alonso. Tony was a stocky boy with blond hair that was nearly white and closely cropped in a crew cut. His bare feet were burning him as he stood on the tarry road.

Where do you live?

On the corner of Norwalk Avenue and Bradley Street.

Do you drive?

Nah, Tony said sheepishly. I only have a learner’s permit.

Are your parents home?

My Mom probably is home.

Well, go home and have her drive you down to the station and we’ll see what we can do with the dog.

Botsy had calmed down considerably by now and was sitting innocently next to the cop.

The policeman turned to Wes and said, You better get your son to the doctor. But first, where do you live and what is your phone number?

Right over on Fairfield Avenue. Number 72. Phone number is: 2275499.

The policeman wrote down the information.

Jeffrey was still crying, but he seemed a little calmer now that his father was holding him. Jeffrey was wearing shorts and a shirt. He had short brown hair and big brown eyes which were reddened from all his crying.

Sherry and Merry watched as the policeman threw a muzzle on Botsy and attached a leash to his collar. Merry grimaced. The two girls had been watching from the sidelines as the scene unfolded.

You’re coming with me you nasty mutt, he said firmly.

Merry offered, I know Botsy and he’s not a bad dog.

Sherry said, You do? You know Botsy? How do you know him?

He lives up the street from us. He’s usually very friendly. I wonder what happened.

Well, he sure didn’t look friendly when we came out here.and he did bite that little boy, said Sherry. So, what do you want to do now? Do you still want to get something to eat?

I don’t know, said Merry. I’m not very hungry anymore.

Yeah, me neither. Let’s just get our bikes and go home.

I think I’ll go home to my house, Sherry said. Do you want to come with me? My Mom might drive us into town.

Nah, I’ll just go home myself.

Sherry again felt that gnawing annoyance. Merry just never came to her house. But, she got onto her bike and pushed away from the beach.

See ya later! Sherry said.

See ya.

Sherry’s heart felt heavy as she rode away. She went gingerly along the road next to the beach. The crowds were out in full force and multi-colored beach umbrellas filled the view. Sounds of children shouting could be heard mixed with the music coming from portable radios. It was high tide now and the water again covered the jetty. The road was a little sandy, which made it somewhat harder to ride. As she rode, she noticed the houses along the way. One after another of charming shingled houses could be seen. Many had lovely flowers growing in the front yard or in window boxes.

The neighborhood was laid out so that the avenues were named after the Connecticut towns of Fairfield, Danbury, Norwalk, and Westport and they all went from a dead end like hers, crossed Bradley Street, and continued up to the beach, meeting with South Compo Road, which was where Sherry was now. Although, she lived on Danbury Avenue, Sherry liked to go down Norwalk because the hill was steeper and it was more fun to ride down, plus she liked the variety of taking different routes. And, she sometimes avoided her own street because two juvenile delinquents called Wally and Buzz each lived in houses on Danbury. She rarely ever actually saw these boys, but they were reputed to be very scary. They owned BB guns and other things, although Sherry didn’t know what these other things were. All she knew was that it was important to stay away from Wally and Buzz at all costs.

So, now, as she breezed down Norwalk, she enjoyed the freedom of riding and began to feel slightly better. She wondered about little Jeffrey and about what Botsy’s fate would be. She turned right on Bradley and then, looking to see if cars were coming in the other direction, made her left onto Danbury. Some younger kids were playing in the middle of the street, so Sherry beeped her bike horn at them and they scattered. As she made the right turn at the end of the street toward her driveway, she noticed that there was an extra car parked there.

Sherry jumped off her bike, forgetting to put down the kick-stand and watched as the bike fell over. She left it lying there for now as she bounded into the house. She found her parents in the backyard with two other grown-ups. Apparently, these were the people that had been playing tennis with Leslie and Harry, because they were also dressed in tennis outfits. Leslie and the other woman each wore the requisite white tennis dress with the very short skirts and tennis panties. Harry and the man both wore white shorts and shirts. Then they all wore white sneakers and white socks. Sherry never understood the big deal about having to wear all white. Tennis was full of uppity rules. For instance, if you got mad because you missed the ball or something, you couldn’t use any swear words. Now, it wasn’t as if Sherry used a lot of bad words or as if her parents did, but sometimes if Daddy was really mad he’d say, Damn it! Like when he was watching the news and President Eisenhower said something Daddy didn’t like or if Daddy stubbed his toe. But, on the tennis court you had to be oh so polite. And, then her parents only liked playing tennis on clay courts. They spent endless time playing tennis. Sherry had tried to learn, but she couldn’t follow the ball and run and coordinate everything. She usually took a couple of lessons each summer and then gave up.

As Sherry emerged onto the lawn, Daddy introduced her to the guests, Mr. and Mrs. Frimp. Sherry could not believe they were named Frimp and she nearly started to giggle, (Frimp the Shrimp, Sherry thought to herself) but she squelched the giggles and shook their hands.

Well, Sherry! Where have you been? asked her father warmly.

You won’t believe what happened! Merry and I went to the stand and then we heard this commotion and then we went outside. Sherry became very agitated as she started to relate the story about Botsy and Jeffrey and the policeman.

Now, calm down, said her mother. Her mother was always telling her to calm down. That was another thing that made Sherry angry. How could she calm down when she had something so not calm to tell about?

But, Mommy! It was so scary. This dog bit a little boy and the boy was crying very much and then the policeman said the dog might have rabies and.

Rabies! said Mrs. Frimp. That’s terrible! Why there hasn’t been a case of rabies in at least five years. Mrs. Frimp had short, curly brown hair. Her face was all shiny from the heat. Little beads of sweat were evident on her forehead. She was sipping iced tea from a tall glass.

And Jeffrey has to have shots and they took the dog away. And, then Merry said she knew the dog and that it’s really friendly and the boy that threw the towel on the dog said that too.!

Wait, slow down, Sherr, said her father. Tell us the whole story. So, Sherry started from the beginning and told about everything that had happened. All the grown-ups were listening intently to her story. Then, Daddy put his arm around her and gave her a hug. He was all sweaty from tennis too, but Sherry didn’t mind. Harry was a handsome man with dark hair. Some people said he looked like the actor Tom Bos-ley. He was not tall, but he had soft brown eyes and a welcoming face. Sherry adored him.

What was the dog doing there without his owner I wonder? asked Leslie.

Can I get rabies, Mom? Could I get it just being there with the dog?

No, Sherry. You can only get rabies if a dog with rabies bites you. Now we don’t know if this dog has rabies and you did not get bitten, so you are safe.

What will happen to the dog if he has rabies? asked Sherry.

The dog will have to be destroyed, said Mr. Frimp, putting in his two cents. Mr. Frimp had dark blond hair and wore glasses. Sherry noticed that he had unusually fat arms and hands. In fact, he was quite chubby altogether. He was smoking a pipe, which he tended to hold between his teeth. He seemed quite a bit older than his wife.

Oh, now George. You don’t know what they will do. I guess they might have to put him to sleep, but maybe not. And, anyway, we don’t know if he has any disease.. .it’s just a shame that both the dog and the boy will have to go through such an ordeal. I’m trying to think.. .do we know the Longmans?

Sure, you know who they are, Harry said. He wiped his brow with a handkerchief. They’re those new people in the old Grover house. Wes Longman is an insurance man. He’s really kind of a bore, but his wife is quite a looker.

Do they have any other children besides this Jeffrey?asked Leslie.

I think there’s a baby girl, said Mrs. Frimp whose first name turned out to be Flora.

Well, I hope the little boy is ok and does anyone want some more iced tea? And, Sherr, have you had lunch yet?

No, we didn’t go back for our hamburgers after that happened and I’m getting really hungry, said Sherry.

Her mother offered to make her lunch and the Frimps said they had things to do and had to leave. They turned down the offer to stay for lunch and headed back to their car.

Sherry went upstairs to her room and flopped down on her bed to rest before eating. It was a small room with doors leading both to the hallway and to the guest room. Her bed was against one wall and she could see out of the window at her feet to the top of the trellis with the honeysuckle. Sunlight poured in through the window and a gentle breeze was moving the white organdy curtains. It was stuffy in the little room despite the open window. Sherry thought about the morning and wondered about the little boy and if he would be all right.

Her thoughts turned to Merry and she again wondered what the problem was and why Merry was so reluctant to come to Sherry’s house. They lived only two blocks from each other. Merry was like that though. She was kind of bossy and always wanting to have things her way. It wasn’t that Sherry minded going to Merry’s, it was just that it got kind of boring after a while. And Merry was kind of moody. It surprised Sherry a little that Merry wanted to go right home after the incident.

Sherry and Merry were best friends during the summers, but each had other best friends during the winter when they went back to the City. Sherry lived on the upper West Side of Manhattan and Merry lived in Brooklyn Heights. A few times a year, Sherry would travel on the subway to Merry’s. Sometimes her mother would take her to Merry’s and sometimes her Grandma Ally would escort her. The train would whoosh through the tunnel under the river and then they would get off at Clark Street.

Merry lived in a large brownstone house. You had to go up a bunch of stairs to get to the front door. The three-story house was much larger than the apartment in which Sherry and her family lived. It always felt very grand to go to Merry’s. Sometimes, Sherry and Merry would play library. One of the girls would be the librarian and the other would be a borrower. They loved to fill out the official looking cards and then sort the cards in a little file box. Other times they would play dress up with old clothes of Mrs. Popkin’s. Sherry could hardly remember the times Merry came to her house, except for once a year to Sherry’s birthday party.

Sherry’s other best friend in New York City was Rosie. She and Rosie had met when they were four years old at Childrenville, a small Jewish day school just across the street from where Sherry lived on West End Avenue. It was rather funny, really, because Sherry’s parents were not at all religious and apparently had signed Sherry up to go the school before they realized it was a parochial school. They were Jewish, all right, but they didn’t belong to a synagogue and only celebrated Hanukah and Passover. Harry’s parents were pretty religious, though, so Passover was always at their house. Sherry loved the traditional meal with Grandma Ally’s homemade matzoh ball soup and all the special dishes. Just as Sherry was remembering the delicious meal, her mother announced that lunch was served.

After lunch, Leslie reminded Sherry that she and Merry would be going to Singing Oaks Day camp that Monday for a few weeks. Both the Popkins and the Waxmans thought it would be good for the girls to have some structure in their days. Sherry was unsure of what to expect.

Sherry finally got her mother to take her into town.

I just love Main Street, don’t you Mom? There are so many stores. I think I love Kleins the best!

Klein’s was a big stationery store where you could buy cute cards and also books of every sort. Her mother spent lots of time at the Western Auto Hardware store. Sherry couldn’t see why anyone would want to hang out at a hardware store, but she did enjoy looking at the colorful wheelbarrows and lawn mowers in front of the place. Then, there was the Rexall Drug store where they sold boxes of delicious Russell Stover chocolate candy and magazines and perfume and makeup. There was a Ben Franklin five and ten cent store and at one end of the street was a store made up of pink shingles that was called the Remarkable Book Store. What was more remarkable than just the books was the way the store was laid out with lots of little rooms and also that they sold lots of little toys and gadgets. It was fun just to see what new things had arrived each time Sherry went there.

The Fine Arts movie theater on the Post Road was where she and