Forty Seven

Monday June 24rd, 1974

I arrive at the pancake house early. I don’t want to miss Jenny. I am seated in the near empty restaurant at a booth that faces the front door. The waitress has brought me coffee. I tell her that I am waiting for a friend. She leaves two menus.

I see Jenny walk in.  She’s got a hooded sweatshirt on today.  Nothing risqué. No tattoo sighting. Jeans and sweatshirt. I stand up and wave.  She sees me and smiles. She looks how I remember. About 5’ 7”, dark hair, slim with what is euphemistically called, an attractive figure--subdued today because of the loose-fitting sweatshirt.  Happy California smile.  

“I remember you.” She says as she gets to where I am standing. “Barbara’s friend.”

“Well, I was riding with Barbara’s friend.”

She extends her hand. We shake.

“I need to be on the road to Jamestown by 9.” Jenny says.  

“That’s fine.”

We sit down, across from one another. We exchange some niceties. A moment later, the waitress appears. “Welcome to Bickfords.” 

“Good morning” we both say simultaneously.

“Did you have a chance to look at the menus?” the waitress asks.

 “I’m paying.” I say to Jenny.

“Well then” Jenny turns to the waitress “what’s the special?” The waitress starts to describe it. Jenny waves her away. “Whatever it is. I’ll have whatever it is.”

I quickly scan the menu and order something that I will probably take home. I am not hungry at all. Coffee is poured for Jenny. My cup is refilled. The waitress leaves. Jenny takes a sip, and swallows. Then she leans over the table and looks at me pointedly. She asks a reasonable question.

“So who are you and why are you warning me about what?” Before I can answer she adds “If you are with Shel, I’ll bolt, and you can pay for the special. Probably not cheap.”

“Not with Shel.”

“Not sent by my parents?”

“I’ve never spoken or met your parents.” 

“You have to promise me you will not tell my folks where I am or that you saw me. Promise me or I am out of here.”

“Promise.” 

I extend my hand. We shake for the second time.

We each drink some more coffee.

Jenny says, “You just got back from going cross country?”

“Last Thursday.”

“A few days ago?”

“Yes.”

Jenny smiles. “Isn’t hiking a blast.”

“It can be.”

“Such a fun ride. You meet so many interesting people.”

“You do. Some less than swell, but interesting, yes.”

She gives that big California smile again. “Since I left home, I’ve been all over. Travelled wherever my rides took me. Each day I’ve had a general plan, but if a driver was headed another way, I might go with it. Take a detour.”

“Why’d you leave?”

She paused. “You said you are not a friend of Shel’s”

“I’m not.” I said.  “Met him that one day when you came with the mail.”

She laughed. “The mail. Right.” She shakes her head.  

“Why’d you leave?” I asked again.

Long pause. Another gulp of coffee and a swallow. “I thought we’re here because you want to warn me about something.”

“That’s true. I do.”

“So, how does it matter why I left.”

“All right never mind.” 

The waitress comes over to refill our coffee. Jenny takes some. I put a hand over my cup.  The waitress leaves. Jenny takes a sip. She nods her head a couple of times.

“Okay, Kozak you want to know why I left, I’ll tell you. But you better not tell my parents or Shel or anyone in Elko or, I swear, I will get you somehow.” The smile is gone.

“I will not tell your parents. I promise.” I do a scout’s honor signal or what I think is a scout’s honor signal. To be sure I say, “Scout’s honor.” Then add “But if you don’t want to tell me why you left, that’s fine too.”

Jenny nods again. Then sighs. “I need to get this off my chest anyway. My cousin knows but nobody else.” Jenny pauses a second, purses her lips, and then continues. “I left because of Shel.”

“Because of Shel?”

“Shel was a pervert. Shel is a pervert”

“A pervert?”

“An echo in here? Yes, a pervert.” She says. “Shel and Barbara moved into that house next to ours when I was 14.  When I got to be 15 it seemed to me that Shel would wait for a time when my folks were not home and Barbara was out. Then he’d knock on my door and ask if he could borrow something. Most of the time he’d leave with whatever it was that he said he needed, or empty handed if we didn’t have it. Sometimes before he went home, he talked about nothing standing outside our front door.”

“Okay.”

“Well, it was strange.  Always coming over when nobody was around. After a while he would try to get his foot in the door after he asked for whatever baloney thing he said he wanted to borrow.  At first, I was kind of flattered. I’m what 15 and this older married man is interested in me. I could tell he wasn’t just coming over for a kitchen utensil.” Jenny wipes her lips with a napkin. “This goes on for two years. He waits until nobody is home. Comes over. Can I borrow your whatever? Chat, chat, chat. 

“Then, well last August when I turned 17, I hiked by myself to Las Vegas.  And I got a tattoo for my birthday. A birthday present for me from me.  You saw it.  I had a lowcut suit top on when I came in with” she makes an air quotes signal ‘the mail.’”

“I saw it.”

“All men see it, Kozak. A girl, woman, whoever puts a tattoo on her breast and, I swear, 90 percent of men will stare at it even if the tattoo is on a sagging grandmother.”

“I saw it.”

“No doubt. Anyway, it was at the end of last August when I am lying in the backyard getting some sun. I’ve got on a bathing suit top on.  Suddenly, on this bright sunny morning there is a shadow over me. I squint up and it’s Shel.

“He’s got this dirty old man smirk on which is, you know, appropriate for him since he was a dirty old man.  I say something like, ‘Shel. Shel, what are you doing here?’ What does he say? He says, ‘Nice tats.’ Very clever right.”

“Not especially original.”

“Shel was not especially original.  Anyway, he goes over to the side of the house where we have a folding chair and he opens it and sits next to me.

“Again, it is a little flattering, but the guy is about the same age as my dad maybe older. I chat with him a while and then tell him I have to go in. I didn’t have to go in, but I didn’t want him talking to my chest any longer, you know?”

“Sure.” I say.

“But the thing is, after that, he starts coming by more frequently, practically every week.  My parents go to church on Sundays. I told them no way when I was like 14.  So I don’t go. They go, meet up with another couple, after services they go for coffee. Blah blah blah. Not for me.  Barbara has some church thing to do on Sundays also.  So, whenever Barbara was out, and my parents were out, I got a visitor.’

“Didn’t you tell him you were not interested.”

“If I tell him I’m not interested, I’m like accusing him of being interested.”

“So?”

“Yo Kozak, I’d just turned 17.  I don’t know anything other than this old guy keeps staring at my tits. Sorry. Staring at me.”

“It’s okay.”

The waitress comes by with the food. We wait until the waitress is gone.  Jenna’s plate is stacked with pancakes and there’s a generous portion of potatoes, bacon and eggs.

“Are you going to eat all that?”

“This could be breakfast lunch and dinner today, Kozak.”

“Okay, so you were saying that Shel was staring at you.”  

Jenny nods. “It gets to the point that I start dressing like a nun on Sunday mornings. Even consider going to church myself, but that would be pushing it.  Well this happens for nearly a year. Then one day just a few months ago, when he comes over he asks for a cup of coffee. I make coffee. When I lean over to put his cup on the table.  He goes to kiss me. I don’t know what to do.  So, I kiss him back.”

“You kissed him back.”

“I did. It was stupid but I did. And, even though the guy is an old guy, it felt sort of good. Maybe I’m weird but it felt, then, kind of good. Then, the pervert tries to feel me up.  He’s twenty gazillion years older and married to the woman next door. He tries to feel me up. I push him away.  But the next week when he comes by, he doesn’t even ask for coffee. He just comes in and kisses me. And I don’t push him away when he goes to feel me up.  When he leaves I immediately feel like a slut.

“Even so, even though I felt like a slut then, the next week--and I can’t believe I did this--but the next week on Sunday when he comes in, I greet him with a lowcut top.  He practically froths at the mouth.  In no time he’s got his hands all over me. And well.  I can’t believe I am telling you this. And I am plenty ashamed. But, what I did was.  Well, I went down on him.” Jenny rolls her eyes.  “Dumb or what?  Dumb. Dumb, Dumb.

“This is now like the third week in May.  As soon as he leaves my house and goes next door carting this disgusting smile on his disgusting face, I feel like the worst slut in the world. I vow to myself that this has got to stop. Next week, I say to myself, next week I am going to tell him that this has to stop.  

“Okay, so the week is moving along and I am determined to end it on Sunday. Then on the Saturday before, Shel comes over. This is the Saturday before I meet you, Kozak.  My father is home, my mom is shopping. Shel says he is there to borrow a tool, some hammer or something.  My dad goes to get the hammer or whatever. As soon as my dad leaves, Shel grabs me and puts some mail in my hand.  He tells me to come over to his house on Sunday morning. He has some magazines he wants me to see. Disgusting. He tells me that when I come over to make damn sure he can see my tattoo, if I knew what he meant. The guy is bossing me around.” Jenna mimics Shel, “ ‘Make damn sure I can see your tattoo if you know what I mean.’

“Of course, I knew what he meant. I ask what’s what with the mail. He says in the off-chance Barbara is there, I can use the letters as an excuse. Barbara, he says, is complaining about having to go wherever she goes on Sunday, but probably is going to go anyway. But in case she doesn’t, I am supposed to say that there was a bad delivery. Some baloney like that.

“My dad comes back with the hammer. Shel leaves and I say to myself--if I had any doubt before—that now for sure, enough is enough. I am not messing with this pervert again.  I am determined that I will break up with him the next day. I figure I will go over to his house, wear the top he wants, give him another blow job but tell him after that this has to stop and I am ending it.  He tries to make a scene, well, I’ll have his nuts in my hand.

“And that is what I came over to do, but then I run into the army that is you, Barbara, Barbara’s friend and Shel in the living room. So, I do the wrong mail dance and leave in a hurry. That night, Shel comes over on some pretense, and I pull him aside and tell him I can’t see him anymore. I tell him it is absolutely over.  He gets very upset. I tell him to hush up because my parents are around. He leaves but he is upset.

“The next day I go to school.  There’s a test I need to take and a graduation rehearsal.  I come out of school after the rehearsal and there is Shel with his car waiting for me in the school parking lot. 

“Well, I ask him what he is doing there, and he says he is there to pick me up.  I don’t want to be seen outside with him, so I jump into the car.  He then drives me on this winding road to a spot ‘to talk.’  Talk. Right. He hasn’t shut off the engine before he has his dick out of his pants. I tell him, no, we are done and he starts to grab me.

“I get scared, bolt from the car and run. He gets out, chases me, and gets a hold of my shirt and rips it. I run faster.  He can’t keep up, the old slob.  I keep running, take a short cut to my house. He’s got to get back in his car and drive down the windy road.  I get to the house before he does. My parents are still at work. I go in the back door, grab some clothes and things, stuff it all in my backpack, take all the money I have in the world, and get the hell out of there. I’m gone before the pervert is back in his own driveway.” 

Jenny sighs.  “And now, Kozak” she sighs again. “I am here.

“I’m not going back there. I can’t face my folks after that. And I don’t want to look at Shel’s sick face ever again.”

Jenny begins to devour her food.   

“When I called your cousin she thought I was Shel.”

Jenny’s mouth is half full. Her head over the plate of food. “The bastard chased after me.  He tried to find out where I was. Somehow he got my cousin’s phone number and kept calling there.”

***

We are silent for a spell. Jenny continues to snort her breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I poke at my food.

“So, that’s why I am here.” Jenny says after a gulp of coffee. “Now, why are you here? And how the hell did you get my cousin’s phone number?”

I go into my wallet and pull out the picture I found on the bulletin board at UCLA.

She smiles. “Where did you find that?”

I tell her.

“Yeah, I went into a drug store and took a bunch of pictures. I figured they would help me get lifts.  And they have.” Jenny reaches into her pack.  She holds up several photos. “I’ve got a few more.”

“I flipped the picture over. Why include the phone number and your name.”

“Just wrote my first name.  So what?” Jenny shrugs. “My cousin can keep her mouth shut. I figured if a potential lift called that number, she could take a message about where the rider might be. I would call her periodically and she could let me know.”

“Did you think a revealing photo like that could be dangerous.”

Jenny leaned over “Listen, Kozak I’ve hitch-hiked for years. I’ll be 18 in less than two months.  I can take care of myself.”  With that Jenny reaches again into her bag and pulls out a knife. It reminds me a bit of Mike’s, but it is not as large.  “I am one tough kid Kozak. I also carry a can of pepper spray.”

Jenny puts the knife away. “You told my cousin I might be in some danger. Why?

“I met some strange people on my journey.”

She smiled.  “Tell me about it. They are out there.  Who’d you meet?”

“A lot.”

“I want to hear.”

“How much do you want to hear?” 

“Who’d you meet? Tell me it all. It’s only a quarter past 8.  If I don’t leave for Jamestown at 9 on the button it will be okay.”

“You sure? There are a host of characters.”

The big California smile is back on Jenny.  “Hit me with the entire cast.”

“Okay.” I take out my map.  Jenny comes over and sits on my side of the booth. And, just as I did with Becca a few days earlier, I go through each stop and the major rides.  But as opposed to the way I narrated events for Becca, in this iteration I highlight the stops that were dangerous, trying not to be transparently paternal.”  

Jenny got a kick out of my stories.  She howled when I described Nelson’s penchant for stopping at all the rest stops and how Tim backed down the highway.  She was very interested in Phil the guy with the motorcycle who picked me up in Salt Lake. 

When I came to Mike I paused.  “Hey, Jenny” I said “this guy was real dangerous.  He told me he has killed women.”

“Killed women? right. Ha. Baloney”

“I know I tend to agree, but he said, and this is why I felt some urgency to meet with you, he told me that he particularly is out to get women who have tattoos. Scrawny guy, smashed nose, wire rimmed glasses.”

“Ha” said Jenny again.  “What are the chances that I will run into him.  In this whole country? Besides he’s full of crap.” Jenny goes into mimic mode again “I kill chics with tattoos.’ Ha. Don’t worry about me Kozak. I will be fine. Is that really what you wanted to warn me about? Some guy with a smashed nose you met in New Mexico who I might bump into in, say, Jamestown?”

I nod my head a few times.  “I know it’s unlikely.”

“Ya think?”

 I smile. Her attitude relieves me. I feel a bit like a goof because now, with Jenny’s dismissive comments, danger seems especially remote. 

I finish up the travelogue. Jenny is getting ready to leave. After the waitress takes my dough, I ask Jenny if there is some end game. Will she just keep hiking around the country forever?  

Jenny nods. “Good question. A driver I met says there are lots of summer jobs in New York in the Catskill mountains.  She said there are a bunch of hotels that need cleaners and chambermaids. I’m going to try and wind up there or thereabouts next week, early July. If there are as many hotels as she said, I will find work for the summer. Then who knows what.” There’s a pause. “Remember, Kozak, you promised not to tell my folks.”

“I won’t Jenny. Scout’s honor.”

“Well, I better be going.  Do me a favor and take me to the junction of 60 and 20. It’s not far from here. Then it is a straight shot to Jamestown.”

“Sure.” I say.  

Jenny says that she has to hit the restroom.  When she returns, she picks up her gear from the booth seat.  I stand too and reach for the keys in my pocket.  “Oh, I almost forgot.” I say.

“What did you almost forget?”

“Last night, my girlfriend gave me something to give to you.” I pull out the gift and hand it to Jenny.

“That’s nice.” She says. She is touched even before she gives it much of a look.

“It’s for good luck.” I say.

Jenny takes some time to hold and stare at the gift. There are tears on the way.  The gift is a rabbit’s foot key chain. On the chain where keys would ordinarily be attached, is a tiny charm in the shape of a moon and star.

“You told her about the tattoo that you, uh, noticed.”

“I did.”

Jenny gives that big California smile again. There’s some moisture around the eyes. The smile has a touch of defiance in it. “I love my tattoo. Right on my chest. Above my heart.” She touches her sweatshirt between her breasts.  “You know what the moon and star tattoo stands for?” she doesn’t wait for me to respond.  “The tattoo stands for brightness illuminating the darkness. That’s what I will be. That’s what we all should be.  Light illuminating darkness.”

I smile. She’s a naïve kid. But sweet. “Very good.” I say “Very true.”

“Don’t worry about me, Kozak. Nobody is going to turn off my light. But thanks for the warnings anyway.”

I drive Jenny Smith to the junction of route 20 and 60.  She gets out of the car and waves goodbye to me with the rabbit’s foot still clutched in her hand. I lower my window and stick my hand out to wave back.  “Goodbye Kozak” she shouts. 

Goodbye Kozak indeed. No need for my nom de guerre any longer.   The trip is over.

Both Jenny and Kozak exit my life for half a century. 

The trip is not over.