DWP - cramped quarters

"Clarissa!" I say. "You haven't changed."

And really, she hasn't. She still sports the same bobbed hair with a little bow pin on the right side just above her ear. Her skin looks radiant and smooth, and as I had always wanted to do in high school when we were friends, I want to caress her face. Which of course I wouldn't do lest I merit a slap in the face, or worse an assault charge. Like Thomas O'Leary in high school, but that is another story.

So there I am standing in front of Clarissa in the men's underwear section at Sears, staring at Clarissa's beautiful brown eyes, the perfectly shaped nose, and the small mouth that the boys adored back in high school.

Clarissa, however, stares at me with an annoyed yet inquiring look. Finally, she says, "I'm sorry, I don't think I know you, mister." She puts back the pack of Hines boxer briefs on the shelf.

"St. Mary's High School, 1978." I say.

"But you couldn't have gone there," she says. "It's an all-girls school!"

"No! No," I say. "I went to St. Patrick, but we used to hang around at Edna Ramos' house after school. Do you still remember Oscar Sanchez, her cousin? Rollie San Juan? Imelda Ramirez? Tommy O'Leary? I'm Jesse Jurado."

She flicks her eyelashes as I mention the names. She starts to smile.

"Yes," she says, "the names sound quite familiar. And you..."

"I drove the white Volkswagen Beetle of my parents, remember?" I unintentionally cut her off in my desire for her to remember me.

Her face suddenly turns red and the smile disappears. Her eyes dart around the shelves. I realize that I sort of boxed her in and she has nowhere to pass except if she pushes me. I smile at the way she furrows her brows, just like she used to do back in high school.

"I"m sorry," she says abruptly. "I don't remember you. Please let me pass."

I step aside and she scurries away. I stand there holding my business card which I have fished out of my jacket to give her so we could connect later. I guess that is not happening now.

Then as I walk around the store, hoping I'd see her again, a memory clicks in my brain.


1978. The lovely Clarissa demurely sat at the iron lawn chair outside Edna's door, wearing a pink dress with gold buttons and tiny chains in front, her stockinged legs crossed and her beautiful hands resting on top of her knee clasping a little handbag. Tommy, Rollie and I elbowed each other. "Friends," I declared, "I drive, she's mine!" Tommy and Rollie groaned. Imelda didn't look bad, but Edna, well, she's like a sister to us (that means she's fat and ugly and we wouldn't touch her with a ten foot pole. But she is nice and a lot of the pretty girls hang around her house).

Edna's cousin Oscar and his girlfriend Susie came and eight people cramped inside my VW Beetle. Yes, eight! You'd think it's not possible, but it was. In fact, to our surprise, Edna decided to bring an extra body, Jimmy, the pimpled guy up her street with whom she had a crush. Hah! So nine of us cramped into that good old Beetle and off I drove to the theatre. Clarissa sat on Imelda's lap. During a brief lull in our conversation, I thought I heard a growl, much like the sound a stomach made when you ate something bad. The sound definitely came from behind. Suddenly, a little girl holding a basket of puppies darted across the street, right in front of the Beetle. Screeeeechhhhh!

The Beetle came to such an abrupt halt that everyone screamed!

"What the heck happened?"

"Jesse, you idiot, what are you doing!"

As I tried to explain to the other eight what just happened, the smell of something really bad wafted around the cramped car. Someone accidentally let go of a big one. Everyone was screaming for me to open the window, or to pull over so they can all get off, or asking who the asshole was.

"Fuck you, Rollie!" screamed Tommy O'Leary.

Rollie San Juan screamed back: "That wasn't me, you dickhead!"

"Then who was it!!!" Imelda and Susie screamed.

"Oscar, you shit, don't embarrass me with my friends!" Edna yelled.

And a chorus of "That wasn't me, you idiots!" filled the car along with the obnoxious smell of sulphur.

Then we noticed that tears were streaming down the lovely Clarissa's face.

Imelda screamed when she realized what happened: Clarissa didn't just let go of a big one, it was a huge one and something came out with it.