head to the right to look into the Block’s bedroom, the kid spoke to me.
“Hi, Clint!” His voice sounded clear and quite friendly.
Right away I figured that a strong greeting like this meant that there was another more sensible explanation for the sounds I had been hearing. So with a great sense of relief, I turned my head and saw in horror as my neighbor lay on his stomach on top of Lollie—their encounter now apparently ended—while the dog lay quietly on her back underneath the boy.
“Oh… ah, hi there… Block.” What do you say at a moment like this? Hey, that’s a nice dog you’ve got there?
Lollie then twisted her head a couple of times to get a better look at me, but other than that, she seemed quite content for the moment to stay where she was.
Jeeze, I wonder if he’s gonna give her a cigarette, now? I thought.
“It sure is a nice day outside today isn’t it?” Although he still sounded confident, it was obvious that the Block was now trying to make conversation to break through this moment of awkwardness.
“Ah… yeah it really is.“Again,! couldn’t think of anything else to say. But I was aware that if I stayed there any longer, there would only be one way for this conversation to go, and I didn’t want any part of that. So I excused myself. “Well, I guess I ought to be getting back to my homework. I’ll see ya later, then.” I was already walking away before I had finished speaking.
“Yeah ok, Clint. I’ll see ya later.” And that was the last we ever said to each other on the matter.
* * *
Her name was Ellen, and she was the first girl I ever French kissed. She had come to the Academy with the rest of the students from an all-girls school up in Boston, to spend an evening with all of us at the Academy. Everything about that night, I remember as being magical. It probably sounds strange to say now in light of the sort of world we live in today, but at the time, I didn’t know that there even was such a thing as French kissing. I had merely thought that kissing was kissing. But by the time my arranged date with Ellen was over later that night, I had become a devoted practitioner of the art.
“So is everything ok here?”
I felt a hand placed on my back and a voice speak to me from above. “Yeah, great!” I answered as I looked up and saw that it was the head proctor who was expressing an interest in my well-being.
“Good. We thought you two would get along well together because you both play the guitar,” he revealed.
“Oh yeah?” I then took my eyes off of the head proctor and looked again at Ellen with approval as she sat there on the small couch next to me. She was gorgeous with long brown hair and a cheery face. Our eyes met again and she smiled back at me.
The head proctor then continued with what he wanted to say to us. “Yeah, and we thought when we matched you two up that maybe you guys could play a few songs for us after dinner tonight. You know… to help us kick off the evening and everything.”
“Really?” I was amazed that I had been part of the strategic planning for this occasion. “Well that’s fine with me. What do you think?” I asked my date. We had only just been paired up by the head proctor and his counterpart from the girls’ school a mere three minutes or so earlier, so we were still on our initial attempt to get to know one another.
“Well,” she began, “I just got here, and I don’t have a guitar, and we’ve never tried playing together.” At first Ellen was less than enthusiastic with the idea. She looked around the room as she spoke and saw that people were beginning to get their plates and fill them with food. Plus it had been a long ride down from Boston on the bus, and frankly, I think she also lacked a bit of confidence in her music skills and was afraid of sounding foolish in front of everyone.
But I was used to getting up and doing impromptu performances. I thought the idea sounded fun. After all, life for me at
“Hi, Clint!” His voice sounded clear and quite friendly.
Right away I figured that a strong greeting like this meant that there was another more sensible explanation for the sounds I had been hearing. So with a great sense of relief, I turned my head and saw in horror as my neighbor lay on his stomach on top of Lollie—their encounter now apparently ended—while the dog lay quietly on her back underneath the boy.
“Oh… ah, hi there… Block.” What do you say at a moment like this? Hey, that’s a nice dog you’ve got there?
Lollie then twisted her head a couple of times to get a better look at me, but other than that, she seemed quite content for the moment to stay where she was.
Jeeze, I wonder if he’s gonna give her a cigarette, now? I thought.
“It sure is a nice day outside today isn’t it?” Although he still sounded confident, it was obvious that the Block was now trying to make conversation to break through this moment of awkwardness.
“Ah… yeah it really is.“Again,! couldn’t think of anything else to say. But I was aware that if I stayed there any longer, there would only be one way for this conversation to go, and I didn’t want any part of that. So I excused myself. “Well, I guess I ought to be getting back to my homework. I’ll see ya later, then.” I was already walking away before I had finished speaking.
“Yeah ok, Clint. I’ll see ya later.” And that was the last we ever said to each other on the matter.
* * *
Her name was Ellen, and she was the first girl I ever French kissed. She had come to the Academy with the rest of the students from an all-girls school up in Boston, to spend an evening with all of us at the Academy. Everything about that night, I remember as being magical. It probably sounds strange to say now in light of the sort of world we live in today, but at the time, I didn’t know that there even was such a thing as French kissing. I had merely thought that kissing was kissing. But by the time my arranged date with Ellen was over later that night, I had become a devoted practitioner of the art.
“So is everything ok here?”
I felt a hand placed on my back and a voice speak to me from above. “Yeah, great!” I answered as I looked up and saw that it was the head proctor who was expressing an interest in my well-being.
“Good. We thought you two would get along well together because you both play the guitar,” he revealed.
“Oh yeah?” I then took my eyes off of the head proctor and looked again at Ellen with approval as she sat there on the small couch next to me. She was gorgeous with long brown hair and a cheery face. Our eyes met again and she smiled back at me.
The head proctor then continued with what he wanted to say to us. “Yeah, and we thought when we matched you two up that maybe you guys could play a few songs for us after dinner tonight. You know… to help us kick off the evening and everything.”
“Really?” I was amazed that I had been part of the strategic planning for this occasion. “Well that’s fine with me. What do you think?” I asked my date. We had only just been paired up by the head proctor and his counterpart from the girls’ school a mere three minutes or so earlier, so we were still on our initial attempt to get to know one another.
“Well,” she began, “I just got here, and I don’t have a guitar, and we’ve never tried playing together.” At first Ellen was less than enthusiastic with the idea. She looked around the room as she spoke and saw that people were beginning to get their plates and fill them with food. Plus it had been a long ride down from Boston on the bus, and frankly, I think she also lacked a bit of confidence in her music skills and was afraid of sounding foolish in front of everyone.
But I was used to getting up and doing impromptu performances. I thought the idea sounded fun. After all, life for me at
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