True Philadelphia Stories

By Garret Godwin

These stories and essays, for the most part, take place in the city of Philadelphia. Taken together, they paint the portrait of a young scholar trying to find his way in the big city. From the halls of academe through his transition into the "real world," the stories chart his progress, his love life, his triumphs and his failures as he tries to

• Language: English
• Publisher: Authors' Tranquility Press
• Release date: Oct 12, 2022
• ISBN: 9781959453864

Book preview

PART I

Philadelphia Story-Part I

It was August 1972, and the New Jersey shores were flooded with travelers and vacationers from all over the country. Each day the beaches were trampled by people bringing their blankets, towels, plastic buckets, umbrellas, radios, surfboards, etc., and each night the tide would come in and wipe the beaches clean for the next day. Most people’ s purpose for going to the shore was to have a good time, but for some this wasn’t enough...

Steve passed along the docks and continued straight up the beach, while high above the seagulls were flocked in disarray. Suddenly one made a screeching dive for the ocean and carried a fish back to heaven, far above the waves. The clouds were small chains of pink puffs as the glowing sun sank behind the cottage rooftops. Steve felt a little hungry and decided to go back and get something to eat. The glistening sidewalks were hot on Steve’s feet, even though they were well callused. He walked past the luxuriant shrubbery of the wealthy seashore suburb of summer homes without even a glance. He was used to big homes, trimmed lawns and things to call his own; what he wanted was something totally metaphysical. He wanted to think new thoughts, do things no one had ever done before.

His parent’ s cottage was just a block away, behind two large beech trees providing shade for most of the front lawn. As he opened the door he saw his four vacationmates scattered over the leather-cushioned chairs. He looked at Cheryl.

The beach is really strange at sunset, he said.

She acknowledged his presence with a half-smirk. She and Steve had been living together for the last three months, but only recently did she become worried about Steve’s voyages into the world of drugs. At first, she thought it was just an intelligent rebel’s way of self-pacification, but then she began to question Steve’s stability. She knew for ce1iain that he overdid it.

Brian, Bob and Charlie were playing cards and smoking Marlboros. The sand from the table covered their hands, and their cards were being filed down by it.

Who is going to the boardwalk tonight? Brian asked.

Only Charlie answered. I am. Aren’t you going, Bob?

Bob’s gray-red eyes looked pretty desolate. I don’t know. I could just get into a walk up the beach or reading my book. I’m just not up for any excitement; I’m pretty burnt out.

Steve, are you going? Brian asked.

Muttering yeah, Steve walked over to a coffee table, opened the bureau and took out a clear plastic bag. An assortment of drugs in varied colors filled the bag. He took out a special packet. There are only nine robin’s eggs left.

Steve, you’re not going to do drugs for the boardwalk tonight, are you? Cheryl asked.

Yes, I am, he said.

Then don’t do any more, please! Cheryl said.

I’ve got to! I’m really getting it together. My writings are almost finished. It could be done by tomorrow.

Then I won’t go with you; I’ll stay here tonight.

Good idea. I want to be alone.

After washing up and changing their clothes, Steve, Brian and Charlie went out to the car. Traffic lights went by like airstrip beacons. Charlie parked the car, and Steve distributed the downers. They walked up onto the boardwalk and were amazed at the crowds of people cluttering the walkways. The hot stench of ketchup from the hotdog stands pierced their nostrils. After walking a while, staring at the immense variety of people’s faces coming toward them, Brian suggested that they sit down on a bench. The view was terrific. It was like being at the slow-motion movies, where the only actors just walked in one side of the screen and out the other. And what natural actors most people are!

Steve’s eyes roved up the boardwalk to something in the distance moving toward him. The streaming orange glitter circulated throughout the crowd, distributing flowers and words of wisdom. The shaven bald creature was smiling broadly and chanting Hari Krishna with a rapturous fervor.

Here comes a Hari Krishna freak, Brian said.

Steve was fairly put-off by Brian ‘ s comment. That guy knows where it’s at. I think I’ m going to go talk to him. He scrambled to his feet, almost losing his balance, and journeyed toward the cynosure.

Brian and Charlie sat there trying to decide where to go next. The people before them were dashing to and fro with such speed it bewildered them. A huge crowd passed in front of them, and, as they looked again, they realized that Steve and his Hindu friend were gone. They looked everywhere for an orange sheen and its anonymous-looking companion. Hours went by without any luck. They went back to the car a number of times to see if Steve had returned there, but there was no sign of him. The two were still very high and getting very tired. Charlie finally suggested that they give up for the night and resume the search tomorrow. Brian agreed.

When they got back to the cottage, they were surprised to find that all the lights were out. Creeping in the side door and turning on a table lamp, they heard bumps and panicked whispers coming from one of the bedrooms. Bob emerged in a bathrobe, trying to appear nonchalant but failing miserably, while Cheryl just stayed inside. Each one was silently trying to predict Steve’ s reaction to this latest complication, and not a word was said. Finally, Bob spoke.

How was the boardwalk? he asked.

It was great, but we lost Steve, Brian answered. He walked off with a Hari Krishna freak, and we haven’t seen him since.

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