WIP: DYNAMIC DUO OF THE OZARKS

I mentioned this song in Chapter 7. It plays on the radio, while Mykel & Sherry are eating the pizza, leftover from the party.

CHAPTER 8

When the boys departed the elevator, the girls were waiting for them in the lobby. Carlene and Silvy got off the other elevator and were walking right behind them. Kathy greet them, “Glad all if you could make it! I think this will be fun!”

Sherry stood smiling at Mykel. He walked over to her and she threw her arms around him. “I’m glad you could come.”

“Where are Dennis and Tommy?” Grace asked. “I thought we asked them and they said they would come with us.”

Debbie pointed to the stairwell door and said with excitement, “There they are!”

Dennis and Tommy walked up to the group. Dennis was unwrapping a pack of Marlboro cigarettes and Tommy was drinking a bottle of Frosty root beer. “Sorry we are late. I was out of smokes and stopped off at the cigarette machine in the stairwell.”

“Did you invite Owen?” Mykel asked, concern that Owen might get left out.

Kathy explained, “I went to his room, but his mother come and got him for supper. Apparently, he invited his roommate to come too and she said she didn’t want him to come to their house. It kind of upset his roommate. We said he could come with us, but he said he would pass. He appreciated us asking though.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Mykel declared. “I was only around his parents a few minutes yesterday, in the elevator, and it was longer than I need to ever be around them again. Ask Silvy, they began insulting me for no reason.”

“I think I know why they were rude to you,” Silvy answered. “You let me and my auntie on the elevator. You know, they nagged him the whole time about living in the dorm. I felt sorry for him, but I was so glad he had such a good time with us last night.”

“He is kind of pitiful,” Clint added. “Mykel had to show him how to fix Maypo in the cafeteria this morning.”

“Boys, you will be happy to know Alice isn’t coming either,” Sherry informed him with a sly, twinkle in her eye. In a mock condescending, nasal voice, Sherry said, “She detest folk music.”

“That’s okay, we detest her,” Slick spoke up. The boys laughed and he quickly added, “Let’s tell her there were clowns, giving away balloons, at the Cafe What and she will never go in there.”

Kathy announced, “If everyone is here, let’s head for the Student Union.” The group of young people began moving out the double, glass, front doors of the Chester Ambrose Bonner Residence Hall.

Once they were outside, Sherry saddled up to Mykel’s side and leaned her five foot four body against his five foot one body. “I want to walk with you, if you don’t mind,” she cooed in his hear. Mykel was dumbfounded that she was cuddling up to him. He cautiously put his arm around her and they began walking toward the Student Union. Between bitter cold of the night and Sherry’s close contact, Mykel was finding his walking slightly hindered by a rather stiff object in his blue jeans.

Grace and Debbie began running ahead of the group, “Hurry up! It’s cold out here!” Debbie shouted. Grace’s feet flew out from under her and she landed on her rear.

Clint ran over to help her up. “You okay, Grace?” He then started to slip, but managed to stay on his feet. He yelled back at the others, “Y’all be careful! There is ice or frost right here and it is slick. Might ought to walk around it.” He helped Grace up and the group continued on.

Kathy laughed, “And, of course, Grace found it!” Kathy asked her suite mate if she was okay and Grace said yes. Kathy wrinkled up her nose and asked, “What is that smell? Smells like something burnt.”

“I can tell you what it is,” Slick answered. “It is what’s left of George Washington Carver Hall. I noticed that today on the way to class. The wind shifts and you can smell the cinders and ashes.”

“I’m surprised there is anything left of it,” Silvy added. “It was a really old building. My auntie said it had been used to quarantine people during the Spanish Flu outbreak.”

“So, we were sleeping and eating in an old building, where they put sick people, during an flu epidemic,” Carlene ranted. “Then, some fool goes and burns the place down! I don’t think Spring Valley wants us here.”

The steel and glass Student Union building was brightly lit in the foggy, purple evening. The group made their way to the ground floor, where the snack bar area was transformed at night into a makeshift replica of a big city coffeehouse, dubbed Cafe What. There were orange poster boards, with the words, Cafe What, painted in large, lime green letters. There was a stage with some curtains along the back wall. Above the heads of everyone, hung a thick, gray cloud of cigarette smoke and the scent of coffee.

On the stage, a boy wearing a chambray shirt, Levis, Red Wing boots, hickory-striped railroad cap and a bandanna around his neck, with a Martin acoustic guitar, sat in front of a microphone crooning a Leadbelly song in a baritone, “My girl, my girl, where did you sleep last night? In the pines, in the pines, where the sun never shines.”

The group meandered around, looking for a place they could all sit together. Kathy spied the perfect place; a large, circular couch with a long, coffee table in front of it. On the coffee table was a coffee can filled with sand and extinguished cigarettes, in the center was a king sized Coca Cola bottle with a candle inserted in the top, held in place by melted wax.

Mykel and Sherry sat together on the couch, cuddled in blissful cuteness. Mykel’s other new found friend, Jamie, spotted the group and walked over with a some mimeographed sheets of paper, listing the beverages available. Jamie was not wearing the Spring Valley State employee shirt, he was wearing earlier in the day, when Mykel had talked to him, but an over-sized sweatshirt and a black beret.

“Hey gang, this is Jamie, I found out he is from Lemming Pond too,” Mykel announced. “He was ahead of me in school by a few years.” Mykel found something else that was different about Jamie, an awkward looking soul patch, so he had to ask, “Did you have that beard this morning?”

Jamie rolled his eyes, “No, it’s fake – crepe fur. Barbie Jo wants me to wear it.”

“You mean Barbie Jo Whitcomb? I think she is with Zeta Tau Alpha,” Kathy asked.

“Yes, and Student Activities Council,” Jamie answered. “She runs the show here and sings quite a bit. The Zetas made frosted ginger snaps, chocolate chip cookies and Rice Krispy treats. You get four in a bag for a nickle.”

“A nickle is pretty cheap,” Sherry observed. “They must not be worried about raising too much money. I’m a Tri Sigma girl and we would have charged at least at quarter.”

“That is what I thought, but Barbie Jo’s brother told her that, at the big city coffeehouses, people buy stuff in nickle bags,” Jamie explained, which caused Slick and Carlene to get tickled. They were the only ones of the group, who seemed to know what would be in a nickle bag at a coffeehouse.

“I have classes with her in the music department,” Silvy spoke up. “She plays the guitar and piano.”

Jamie took everyone in the group’s orders and then went to fetch them. The boy on stage said, “This is an old Irish air, called ‘Down By the Sally Gardens,’ and I sing this for a girl, I knew in high school, name Betty, who married another man, because I failed to ask her for her hand.” The boy began playing the sad song of lost love from the previous century.

“So, how did everyone’s first day back at classes go?” Kathy asked.

“I think I’ve got some hard classes already,” Henry answered. “I should only take one mathematics class a semester.”

“I’m already worried too,” Clint said. “More and more I’m thinking I wasn’t cut out for college.”

“Mykel, have you started reading the novel for Lit class,” Grace asked.

“Yes and I fell asleep while I was reading it,” Mykel chuckled. “Why does Anderson call everyone grotesque? Maybe it will make sense later.”

“Could be worse?” Slick said. “Last semester I had to read Farewell to Arms.

Hemingway writes the shortest sentences in the world. It gets tedious after a while.”

“Mykel and I have American History together,” Sherry beamed with excitement as she told the others. Jamie returned with coffee for everyone and sat the tray on the table.

“Jamie, tell them what you said, this morning, about how Professor Plowright talks,” Mykel coaxed.

“He sounds like Lyndon Johnson at Everette Dirksen speed.”

Dennis and Tommy laughed, then Dennis took part of Jamie’s statement to task, “Actually, Plowright makes Dirksen sound like Walter Winchell.” Dennis then imitated the professor, “Judge…Crater…disappeared…and…was…never… seen…a-gin.”

Silvy, then exclaimed, “There is Barbie Jo on the stage!” The boy, who had been singing, walked off the stage and a nerdy, but rather attractive girl with strawberry blonde hair and cats eye glasses, sat down on the stool, in front of the microphone, vacated by the boy. She adjusted her skirt, as to not give the audience an unexpected show, and picked up a small Gibson Western guitar.

“Lets thank William for his beautiful singing, by snapping our fingers or clapping,” she encouraged the audience, which obliged. “Now, I’m going to sing a song, that I found on an Odetta album entitled ‘Looky Yonder.’ It is a Leadbelly composition and has two parts. One called ‘Looky Yonder’ and the second part called ‘The Ballad of Black Betty.’ I hope you enjoy it.”

Jamie told the group, “Enjoy your coffees! I’ll be back around later to see if you would like more. Something tells me this may get ugly.” The group wasn’t sure what Jamie meant.

Barbie Jo sang in a syrupy, sweet, high voice that was perfect for an elementary school, music teacher, however her choice of material at that moment was awkward. She strummed the guitar with a harsh, threatening chord of doom. “Looky looky yonder! Looky looky yonder! Looky looky yonder! The sun’s going down.”

Clint opened a bag of the sorority girl’s cookies, “Anyone want a cookie?” after taking one for himself. Mykel took a cookie for himself and one for Sherry.

Kathy had bought a bag of the Rice Krispy treats and she took a bite of one. She frowned and remarked, “These are kind of hard.”

Sherry said, “Rice Krispy treats tend to get hard after they set awhile.”

“Dunk it in your coffee,” Clint suggested. “That should soften it up.”

Barbie Jo switched from the bluesy dirge to an upbeat, peppy strumming and she began singing in her cute, chirpy voice the second part of the song, “OH Black Betty, bam-ba-lam! Oh Black Betty Bam-ba-lam!”

Dennis pushed the butt of a Marboro into the sand in the coffee can in the center of the table and then proceed to light up another one, “I had to pay ten bucks for a brand new Geography book thanks to the Soviet Union taking over half of Europe.” He and everyone in Cafe What stopped talking and became silent, as they listened to Barbie Jo singing the more lurid lyrics of the song. The espresso and cappuccino drinker’s face were filled with dismay, others snickered and giggled, as Barbie Jo seemed to enjoy singing of illegitimacy, birth defects, postpartum depression, peppered with the word “damn.”

“Black Betty had a baby, bam-ba-lam! Damn woman gone crazy, bam-ba-lam! That baby ain’t mine, bam-ba-lam! Damn thing’s gone blind!” Barbie Jo became aware of the disapproving faces of the audience and stopped singing. After a moment of awkward embarrassment, she quickly recouped and announced to the audience, “That may have been slightly inappropriate. Let’s try something that everyone likes.” With that, Barbie Jo began displaying exemplary prowess pick and singing the song “Wild Wood Flower” so beautiful, that Mother Maybelle Carter would have been proud.

When she finished that song, the audience clapped and snapped their fingers. Barbie Jo then announced, “Now, we are going to enjoy Frick and Frack!” Two boys, in matching suits, with straw cowboy hats and ribbon ties, came on stage. One boy held a fiddle and the other boy had a banjo.

“I can tell by the way they are dressed,” Clint told his friends. “They are bluegrass guys.”

The boy with the fiddle said, “I’m Frick!”

The boy with the banjo said, “I’m Frack! We were here last semester.”

“And now we’re back!” said the boy with the fiddle. They then launched into picking and fiddling away at “Roll In My Sweet Baby’s Arms.”

Barbie Jo exited the stage, got a cup of coffee from Jamie and then, walked over to the group on the couches. “Silvy! I’m glad to see you!”

“It’s good to see you too! Did you have a good Christmas break?” Silvy chatted.

“Oh yes, but it is nice to get back to classes,” Barbie Jo gushed with enthusiasm. “Hey, why don’t you sing something for us?”

“Oh, I don’t think I could tonight,” Silvy quickly tried to get out of performing in front on stage. “What would I sing?”

“What about something you have known since you were a child? Maybe one you sang in elementary school or at camp or church,” Barbie Jo suggested. “I think people would love to hear you.”

“What about ‘This Little Light of Mine’, Silvy?” Carlene said. “You sing that around the dorm all the time. Go on!” The others join in encouraging Silvy.

“I can play that on the guitar!” Barbie Jo exclaimed. “I’ll accompany you.” Everyone in the group was cheering her on.

“Okay, I’ll give it a try,” Silvy agreed to singing a song.

“Frick and Frack will sing another song and then we can go on,” Barbie Jo explained.

Silvy stood up and said to her friends, “Wish me luck.” She and Barbie Jo made their way toward the stage, while the audience applauded for Frick and Frack, who then told those present that they would be doing ‘Arkansas Traveler’ next.

“This is going to be good, y’all,” Carlene told the others. “She sings so beautiful, you will think there is an angel in the room!”

Frick and Frack had chosen to do the version of ‘Arkansas Traveler’ that included humorous dialogue. The boys would play the bluegrass instrumental, then stop and do their bit. Frack would say, “Hello, Farmer!” and Frick would say, “Hello, Stranger!”

“Say Farmer, does this road go past Little Rock?” Frack said. Frick replied “Don’t know about Little Rock, but there is a whopper of a rock at the bottom of the hill.” They went back to playing the instrumental, in a fast and frantic style, then stop and attempt some more comedy.

“Hello, Farmer!”

“Hello Stranger!”

“Have you lived here all your life, Farmer?”

“No, I ain’t died yet.” They went back to picking and fiddling.

Clint turned to his friends and, with a smile said, “Hey everybody, watch those guys mouths when they play their instruments. They wag their tongues, back and forth with the music, while they play, like little pups or something.” The group began watching to see if they could spot what Clint was talking about and, sure enough, they noticed it too.

“Oh my gosh! They are moving their tongues with the music!” Kathy laughed. “That is hilarious!”

“My little brother does that when he colors in a coloring book,” Debbie giggled.

Frick and Frack stopped playing, “Say Farmer, did ya know yer corn has turn yeller?” Frack said.

“Yep, that means it is ready to pick,” Frick answered and went back to sawing on the fiddle, while Frack went to picking the banjo, both keeping time with their tongues.

“Mykel, can you do that with your tongue?” Sherry asked with a little wink. The girls began laughing very loud and giggling. Mykel was bewildered by that question.

“I just wish someone would get out one of those big hooks and pull those two dorks off stage,” Slick said shaking his head. “I want to hear Silvy sing.”

Frick and Frack finally finished and Barbie Jo walked back on stage, to the microphone and announced, “We now have a treat. A fellow music major is going to sing for us. She is from Arkansas and she made the highest score on the S.A.T in all of Arkansas. Please welcome, my friend, Silvy Ford.”

Barbie Jo hoped up on the stool with her guitar as Silvy eased herself up to the mike. She was trembling, as she gave a little wave to the audience. Barbie Jo began cording the guitar and Silvy began to sing in a soubrette voice that was like a tiny bell, ringing through the room, to get the attention of the coffee drinking crowd. They stopped talking and laughing, but unlike Barbie Jo’s faux pas, which caused stares and jaws to drop, they listened and smiled at Silvy. When she finished they snapped their fingers and clapped.

“Hey,” Barbie Jo motioned to Silvy to come over to her perch on her stool, with a perky smile on her face as the audience applauded. “Do you know ‘Joshua Fit the Battle of Jericho’? We could do it next.”

“Sure!” Silvy answered. “But, would it be okay if I clapped while I sing it. That is how I was taught to sing it in Sunday school. You can still play guitar, though.”

“Oh that would be perfect!” Barbie Jo squealed with excitement. “You start clapping, to get their attention and then I’ll start playing.” Silvy walked back to the microphone and said in a voice, just above a whisper that they were going to sing “Joshua.” She then began to slap her hands together and sing the old spiritual. The audience then began to clap along and Silvy smiled. She then looked around at Barbie Jo, who was also smiling with pride and giving an encouraging nod. When they finished, the audience erupted with enthusiastic applause.

“Thank you!” Silvy spoke lightly into the microphone, then, not knowing what to say next, she said, “I’m going to sit down now.” She took a little bow and walked off stage.

“Let’s have Sweet William sing another song,” Barbie Jo told the audience, as the young man, who had been singing earlier returned to the stage.

He moved the stool over to the microphone and said, “This is the song, from which I took my stage name.” With that, he began singing “Barbara Allen.”

Silvy returned to her new friends, who were all giving her a standing ovation. The girls all gave her hugs. “Girl, that was beautiful!” Carlene shouted. “I wish you Auntie Charlotte could have heard you, it would have brought tears to her eyes!”

Slick picked Silvy up and hugged her. She let out a squeal of laughter. “I knew you could do it, little sister!”

Jamie had walked over to see if anyone wanted more coffee, but before he did he admonished Silvy, “You have a lovely voice! You need to sing here again!”

Barbie Jo walked up behind Jamie. “Jamie, get me and Silvy a large coffee. I’ll pay for it.”

Silvy then spoke up, “Oh no, I shouldn’t drink anymore coffee tonight. It’ll keep me awake, but thank you for the kind offer.”

Jamie then interjected, “How about a hot cocoa?” he then gave Silvy a goofy smile and offered, “I’ll put some Reddi Whip and big marshmallows in it for you.”

“That would be nice,” Silvy answered. “I’d like that.”

Barbie Jo pulled up a chair, “Silvy, that was so good! Jamie is right, you need to sing here more often!”

“What would I sing?” Silvy asked.

“We will think of something,” Barbie Jo said with the barrel full of enthusiasm, that she always seemed exude. “Are you going to be in Mixed Chorale 2, tomorrow?” Silvy acknowledged that she would be in that class, as Jamie brought her a large cup of hot chocolate with a large dollop of whipped cream, floating on the top. “We can talk about it then or have lunch together.”

Sweet William finished all twelve verses of “Barbara Allen,” and Jamie walked on stage to announce that he would be closing down the coffee bar and soda fountain in a few minutes. Then, like relapse of stomach flu, Frick and Frack returned to the stage.

“I’m Frick!” “I’m Frack! “We took a break.” “And now we’re back.” They then began singing and playing “Shady Grove.”

“NOT THOSE TWO AGAIN!” Slick gripped. “Let’s get out of here!”

“Wait! I’ve not finished my hot chocolate,” Silvy said.

“They aren’t bad,” Kathy said.

“You’re are right, they are actually pretty good,” Clint agreed.

“Are they singing about going to Harlem?” Slick asked.

“No, Harlan,” Clint explained. “It’s a county in Kentucky, where bluegrass music was born.”

“I was going to say that if those two goofy, white boys went to Harlem, they would get the crap beat out of them,” Slick chuckled.

“I went down to Shady Grove, she asked me in fer supper, stubbed my toe on the table leg and stuck my nose in the butter,” Frick and Frack sang.

“Sounds like me on a date,” Mykel quipped.

Sherry giggled at his comment and then said, “If you come to my house, you can stick your nose in my butter. I won’t mind.”

Debbie, Grace and Kathy heard Sherry’s suggestive comment to Mykel. “Sherry! You’re being kind of forward, aren’t you?” Grace laughed, then she knocked over the rest of her coffee on the table. “Where’s a napkin?” she said frantically, which Henry handed her two for clean up.

“I don’t think my ears should hear anymore of this conversation,” Debbie said with a childlike smile on her face.

A man in his late twenties, with a pile of messy hair and a beard, walked over to where the group was and began addressing Silvy. “My name is Lanford Fenwick and I wanted to compliment you on your singing. You have a very beautiful and powerful voice. I want to add that even though I am an atheist, but I commend you choice of songs, because they were traditional songs. Some of these people, try to pass off the current trendy music as folk, when it is not. They sing songs by P. F Sloan, who used to write surfing songs for teenyboppers. I used to like Bob Dylan then he started using electric instruments. Those boys, Frick and Frack, when they are not trying to be funny, stick to traditional stuff, because they borrow from Pete Seeger and Flatt and Scruggs, but ever so often, someone request that they sing that Flatt and Scruggs song from that television show about the hillbillies that stuck oil. Ugh! Anyway, I hope you sing here again sometime.”

“Thank you! I appreciate the compliment,” Silvy replied. The older student walked away. Barbie Jo came over.

“Oh wow! You were complimented by Lanford Finwick!” Barbie Jo said. “He seems to hate everything. He is a purist.”

When Frick and Frack finished, Jamie announced that the Cafe What would be closing for the night and everyone went back to Bonner House to go to bed, although it took them awhile to get to sleep thanks to the espresso.

CHAPTER 7

Mykel went back to the dorm with the new text books for his Monday-Wednesday-Friday classes. He took off his coat, which crackled with static electricity, to the point, that the hairs on his head began to stand out in several different directions. He took his purchases out of the sack from the bookstore: Professional Broadcast Writing by Albert Crews, The Building of a Democracy, and Winesburg, Ohio by Sherwood Anderson. Mykel decided to unwrap Sherwood’s masterpiece and start reading it. Clint’s pocket knife was on his desk, so he used that to pierce the shrink-wrapped cellophane around the novel. This caused more static and the wrapper clung to the sleeve of his sweater, leading to a battle to get it off into the wastebasket. As he wrestled with the cellophane, the telephone let out a tiny ping. Like ending of the famous, urban legend, horror story, “the call was coming from inside the dorm.”

“Hello?” he answered.

“Mykel!” a cute, fruity voice joyfully spoke. “This is Sherry. Would you still want to come downstairs to our suit and we can have some of the leftover pizza and pop from last night?” Mykel was taken aback by this. It wasn’t a dream, she did want him to come to Room 420 and eat cold pizza. This was coming after Sherry’s excited outburst in the American history class, Mykel was speechless. When she didn’t hear an answer, Sherry asked, “Mykel, are you still there?”

“Oh…yeah. Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute. I just got back from the bookstore and got the text book for class. It’s called The Building a Democracy. It looks boring,” he joked, once he gained his composure after the shock of getting an invited for cold pizza and Mountain Dew. She giggled in response, which made him feel good.

“Come on down,” she said. “I’ll be waiting for you!” There was a click of the phone hanging up. Mykel decided that he no longer needed to unwrap Sherwood Anderson’s 1919 literary masterpiece, because he had a pretty, blonde, smiling girl and cold pizza waiting for him downstairs. He placed Clint’s knife back on his desk, grabbed his keys, locked the door behind him and ran downstairs to be with Sherry.

The sounds, coming from the open doors, on the girls floor of the dorm had more uniformity than the ambient sounds on the boys floor. It echoed with the K-I-L-L jingle, leading into The Beach Boys singing “Barbara Ann,” with a voice, coming from some of the other rooms, intoning “This is MacDonald Carey and these are the Days of Our Lives.” Mykel arrived at Room 420, where the door was open and the radio was on “the Big Thirteen-Hundred,” just like all the other rooms. He stopped at the door and knocked, because he didn’t see anyone in the suite’s living area. He was winded from running down the stairs.

Sherry walked out of her bedroom. She smiled and then asked, with a bit of worry, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m going to fine,” he said, as he took his Primetine Mist inhaler from his pocket and used it. He then looked at Sherry’s concerned face. “I’m already better.”

“Come on in! What do you want to drink? Pepsi or Mountain Dew?” Sherry asked while opening the refrigerator to retrieve the pizza boxes from the little Sunday night soiree the girls had in their suite. Sherry bent over and grabbed two bottles of Mountain Dew from the bottom shelf. She handed the bottles to Mykel and then pulled the pizza boxes from the fridge, placing them on the small dinning table. She then reached over to the kitchenette counter, grabbed a paper plate and plastic fork. “The pepperoni is all gone, so we will either have to eat spicy hamburger or cheese pizza.”

“That’s fine. I rather liked the spicy hamburger pizza,” Mykel assured Sherry that whatever pizza was left was fine with him. She opened the box and he placed a piece of the spicy hamburger pizza on the little paper plate, with a picture of Santa Claus holding a sign reading “Merry Xmas.”

Sherry laughed, as they sat down at the small table, “If you haven’t noticed, Kathy bought a bunch of Christmas stuff on close out at places like Shopper’s Fair, Kresgee and Katz. That’s how we got that hooch we had last night was Katz had it on clearance, because it was in gift containers.” She began to giggle, to a point she had a hard time talking. “One of them says ‘Happy Hanukkah’ on it. I guess there aren’t very many Jewish people in Spring Valley or they don’t drink. Luckily, one of Kathy’s sorority sister’s was checking out, so she looked the other way, when we bought it.”

“THE BIG THIRTEEN-HUNDRED K-I-DOUBLE-L WITH THE PICK HIT OF THE WEEK BY THE BEACH BOYS! THEIR NEW SONG IS CALLED ‘BARBARA ANN’! I’M LOVABLE LANCE WITH MUSIC TO MAKE YOU DANCE! RIGHT NOW IT’S THE VOUGUES WITH ‘FIVE O’CLOCK WORLD’ ON SPRING VALLEY’S FAVORITE RADIO STATION K-I-DOUBLE-L!”

“See, if we were in Lemming Pond, you would get a big lecture about using a paper plate with the word ‘Xmas’ on it, because we are supposed to ‘keep Christ in Christmas,’ you dirty, little heathen from Knob Noster!” Mykel jested.

Sherry laughed at Mykel, “But Christmas doesn’t fit on a small party paper plate.”

“You’re a very smart girl, Sherry Ridenhour,” Mykel jokingly admonished her. “But you have to understand, if the adults in Lemming Pond didn’t preach to you about that, they would find something else to lecture you about, like that your eyes were too blue, your hair was too perfect…” Mykel’s usual gripe about how cranky the adults were in Lemming Pond, began to drift into another territory as he sat looking at Sherry giggling at his goofy antics. “Or your smile was too comforting.” Mykel stopped himself before he began babbling about how nice the other parts of her body looked.

“So, besides wanting to be in broadcasting, why are you at Spring Valley State College?” Sherry asked Mykel, before taking a bite of pizza. She then raised the green glass bottle to her lips and began drinking some Mountain Dew.

“My grandfather is paying for this since I’m 4-F and physically ineligible for military service. He was a career Army man and retired from Fort Leonard Wood, so he was disappointed about it, but was willing to pay for me to go to college,” Mykel really didn’t want to talk about the fact he upset his grandfather, so he decided to try and say something to make Sherry laugh again. “They will draft Clint, on the other hand, since he was raised on a farm and is considered 4-H.”

As stupid as that line was, it made Sherry laugh so hard that she spewed a mouthful of Mountain Dew on Mykel. “Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry! Let me get a paper towel and clean you off.”

Sherry unrolled some paper towels from the holder above the sink and started trying to wipe the Mountain Dew off on Mykel’s shirt. Her face and ears were as red as a tomato. “I’m so embarrassed! I can’t believe I did that! That was stupid! I’m sorry! Please don’t hit me!”

Mykel was taken aback by the last thing Sherry said while apologizing. “I wouldn’t hit you, you’re a girl! You couldn’t help it.” Mykel was still stunned by what she had begged him not to do, that he decided to come up with something funny to say. “Besides, I’ve been spit on by girls before in high school. Of course, they chewed tobacco.”

Sherry started laughing again. “That’s why I like you, Mykel. You don’t take things to serious.”

“Being serious gave my father a heart attack at forty.”

An awkward look came across Sherry’s face and she stopped laughing. “I’m sorry…I shouldn’t mean to bring that up.”

“No, no! You didn’t do anything wrong,” Mykel reassured her. “I’m the one that brought it up. We were talking about why I came to college and it is mainly to get out of Lemming Pond. It talked to a guy from there, earlier today, in the Student Union snack bar, and we said there is no opportunity in Lemming Pond. Why are you here, Sherry?”

“K-I-DOULBLE-L – THE BIG THIRTEEN-HUNDRED – I’M LOVABLE LANCE POWERS! YOUR FIRST NATIONAL BANK TIME AND TEMPERATURE (Beep-beep!) IS 1:15 AND 28 DEGREES ON A GLOOMY MONDAY AFTERNOON. A GOOD DAY TO STAY INSIDE AND DO SOME CALIFORNIA DREAMING WITH THE MAMAS AND THE PAPAS ON THE BIG THIRTEEN-HUNDRED – K-I-DOUBLE-L!” Lovable Lance gave the frequency and station call letters, as the guitar on the record began playing.

“I was active in theater in high school and I would love to be a high school drama teacher,” she explained, as the smile returned to her face. “Secretly, I would love to go to Hollywood and be in movies. I know that sounds crazy, but it has always been a secret dream of mine.”

“No dream is too crazy. I would love to work at W-L-S in Chicago or W-A-B-C in New York, but first I need to change the radio station in Lemming Pond. It is God awful with a capital G,” Mykel then asked, coyly, “Did the person, who said that dream was crazy, also put the knob in Knob Knoster?” Mykel imitated Alice’s shrill, nasal voice, which made Sherry giggle.

“How did you guess?” she lamented.

“That is the kind of thing bad boyfriends say to girls,” Mykel replied before taking a bit of pizza.

“Chip said that movie and TV stars don’t impress him,” Sherry quoted her ex-boyfriend, in a mock serious, manly voice. “He admires leaders in business and commerce.”

“I don’t blame you for dumping that loser,” Mykel fumed. “Anyone who doesn’t like movie stars is an scummy idiot! I’ll bet that stupid, jerk boyfriend of yours doesn’t like disk jockeys either!” He realized he should calm down and get back to schmoozing. “Besides, a girl as pretty as you should be in movies or on TV.”

Sherry licked her lips, gave a flirty smile and asked, “Do you really think so?”

“Absolutely!” Mykel stated. “You can tell that square I that Mykel Daring said so.”

Sherry got up from her chair, threw her arms around Mykel and gave him a hug, “You are so sweet!” She then kissed his cheek. Mykel felt warm like he was getting a severe fever and it felt like his feet were tingling.

“Wow! You kissed me!”

“Yeah, I thought you deserved one for what you said about me,” Sherry said rather perplexed at Mykel’s reaction. “Is that the first time a girl ever kissed you?”

“Yeah, and it felt nice!”

“But a few minutes ago, you said you’ve been spit on by girls, but not kissed. That is just wrong!” Sherry exclaimed.

“Even worse, in eighth grade a girl gave me a black eye,” Mykel added. “I thought she was going to do it again yesterday.”

“Was this at church?” Sherry asked, as she took another slice of spicy hamburger pizza from the box.

“No, she works at a little grocery store in Lemming Pond, the only one that is open on Sunday, and I guess she got mad, because I wasn’t impressed the tattoos her dad got her for Christmas.”

“Tattoos?” Sherry blurted, as she was about to take a bite of pizza. “Why did she want tattoos? The only women I’ve ever scene with tattoos were in the circus or at the county fair. Where were they?”

“At the top of each boob. They were rebel flags.” Mykel took the last piece of the spicy hamburger pizza and began to munch on it, as K-I-L-L jingle played on the radio, before P. F. Sloan began singing musical, theological queries about church bells really being angels crying and if a falling star meant that “God had lost an eye” came from the radio speaker.

“And she showed them to you in the grocery store?”

“On the Lord’s Day,” when Mykel said that Sherry snickered. “Of course, we were the only people in the store, because it was Sunday. When I told her what I got for Christmas, she made fun of it.”

“What did you get?”

“I got the LPs, Rubber Soul and Highway 61 Revisited.”

“Oh cool! Did you bring them with you to school with you?”

“Yeah, I got a record player upstairs in me and Clint’s room.”

Sherry grinned at Mykel, “Maybe I can come upstairs and listen to them with you. I love the Beatles and Bob Dylan too.”

Mykel thought about the prospect of being with a girl, in his dorm room, listening to his records. “Yeah, we could do that.” She was still grinning at him and he could feel himself, smiling back at her, as P. F Sloan was singing himself in to deep philosophical territory with the line, “Faith my friends is so hard to recognize when you are traveling all alone in the night.” They just sat and smiled, not saying a words, either because of mutual admiration or Sloan’s perplexing song.

“K-I-DOUBLE-L – THE BIG THIRTEEN-HUNDRED – FOLK SINGER P. F. SLOAN WITH ‘FROM A DISTANCE” I’M LOVABLE LANCE POWERS. SIT DOWN KIDS BECAUSE JEWEL AKINS IS HERE TO GIVE US THE TALK ABOUT THE BIRDS AND THE BEES – A FORMER KILLER NUMBER ONE HIT ON K-I-DOUBLE-L!” The quirky, twangy guitar on the song played under Lovable Lance’s silly joke.

“Are you okay, Mykel?” Sherry asked. “You look like you are thinking about something.”

“The Birds and the Bees, I guess,” Mykel nervously chuckled, since he didn’t really want to tell Sherry too much about what he was thinking about her.

Sherry giggled, “I was kind of thinking about the same thing! Do want another soda?”

“Yeah, give me a Pepsi this time.”

Sherry went to the fridge and got Mykel a bottle of Pepsi. As she handed it to him, she picked up the pizza box and put it in the tall, kitchen, wastebasket. A frown came to her face as she looked at the table. She then got her Playtex Living Gloves, a bottle of Mr. Clean and a scrub brush.

“I missed a spot cleaning up that Mountain Dew,” she said attacking the sticky, yellow droplets of that were drying on the table. “I need to get that up, because it will get sticky and it has been in my mouth. It would be unsanitary to not clean it up.” Mykel was seeing what Kathy and Grace had described about Sherry’s personality, but Mykel could also see Sherry’s logic behind cleaning the table with such fervor.

Mykel stayed few until about four o’clock and then went back upstairs to his dorm room. Clint told him he would be at basketball practice until five o’clock, so he had to find something to pass the time. Mykel turned on his television and finished unwrapping Winesburg Ohio. He really did pay attention to which channel he had turned to, but Tintin, his dog Snowy, Captain Haddock, Professor Calculus and the Thompson Twins, were on their way to the moon in a red and white, checked rocket ship. He finally extricated the book from the cellophane wrapper, sat down on his bed and began reading the assigned portion, which included an introduction by Irving Howe and the first chapter called “Book of the Grotesque,” as the puppets on kiddie show, named Stinky McKeever and Charlie Chicken, were singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to the children of the Ozarks.

While reading an old carpenter, crying about how the Confederates killed his brother, during the Civil War, Mykel fell asleep on the bed. When he dozed off, there was a Loony Tunes cartoon on TV, showing a sheepdog and a wolf, punching a time clock, and greeting each other with “Mornin, Ralph” and “Mornin, Sam.” He was awakened by Clint, returning from basketball practice, just as Huntley and Brinkley were saying “Goodnight, Chet” and “Goodnight David.”

“Boy, you must not handle early classes well,” Clint laughed at Mykel as he began to wake up from his unplanned nap.

“What time is it?” Mykel groaned in a groggy voice.

“Six o’clock. I wish I had thought and me and Slick would have come got you to go eat supper over at the cafeteria,” Clint apologized, as he took his coat off.

“That’s okay, I’m not hungry. Sherry and me finished off that one pizza from last night.”

Clint smiled impishly at his roommate. “Well, well! What were we telling you this morning? You didn’t believe it, and now, you are on a first name basis and eating pizza in the afternoon with her.”

“Clint, I still don’t believe it. She even wants to come up here to the room and listen to my LPs that I got for Christmas. Just me and her…alone. No girl in Lemming Pond ever said she wanted to be alone with me. For that matter, no girl said that to me last semester. This is defiantly turning out to be a great semester.”

“Well, I’m happy for you,” Clint smiled. “Did you find out anything interesting about her?”

“The only strange thing is she rubs a mixture of peroxide and Witch Hazel on her hands,” Mykel explained. “She is kind of afraid of germs. Her dad is a doctor. Oh yeah, that guy she used to date, that her friend thought was so wonderful, was a big jerk.”

“Rubbing peroxide and Witch Hazel on her hands sounds weird. What is that supposed to do?”

“She thinks is sanitizes your hands,” Mykel explained. “She says everyone should do it, because it would cut down on colds and flu.”

“I doubt there will ever come a day when people rub stuff on their hands to sanitize them,” Clint stated.

“Oh yeah, the girls are going over to the Student Union tonight to the Cafe What for coffee and the hootenanny,” Mykel relayed the message to Clint. “I told them I would ask you if you wanted to go.”

“Sure, I don’t have any assignments for my classes yet,” Clint answered. “I like hanging out with them, well, except for that friend of Sherry’s, but she said she didn’t like to go there.”

“Kathy said we would meet down in the lobby around seven o’clock,” relayed the message to Clint. “She said we didn’t need to dress up.”

Clint laughed, “Probably not, I don’t think real beatniks dress up for their hootenannies.” Mykel chuckled in response, as the weather forecast came on with a map with flashing lights that represented thunderstorms, the blizzards out east and moving cold fronts. “I bet that weather map looks real cool on a color television.”

“I think I saw the KOTX news on a color set at Sears,” Mykel said. “It does look cool, but I think the flashing lights are black and white on color TV too. Probably so that it looks the same on a black and white set.”

“Something like this must cost the TV station a pretty penny,” Clint remarked. “I like to have color TV. I bet Bonanza and The Virginian would look great in color. My father won’t get a color TV. He doesn’t like television, because he says it isn’t reality.”

“Reality is stupid and boring,” Mykel quipped, as the sportscaster began his report. Mykel pointed at the TV. “THAT IS THE GUY, who interrupted Peyton Place to say Lemming Pond scored during a football game!”

“Let’s take a look at the film from Saturday’s Spring Valley State College basketball game against Southern Illinois,” the sportscaster announced.

“Let’s don’t!” Clint fired back at the television. Mykel laughed at Clint’s disgust.

“Great job by freshmen Clarence ‘Slick’ Jefferson and Clint Grogan with two great plays,” the sportscaster narrated the filmed footage.

“Hey that’s us!” Clint shouted.

“Unfortunately, it is all down hill from there because the Southern Illinois Salukis start making one basket after another after Jefferson’s two points. OH MY, GET THAT OFF THE AIR!” the sportscaster said as the film showed Southern Illinois hitting several baskets.

“Oh yeah, well you look like Fred Flintstone!” Clint snapped back at the sportscaster, who couldn’t hear him. “Actually he is right, they cleaned our clocks. They are a tough team to beat.”

“But he did mention you and Slick by name, and said you guys did a good job,” Mykel tried to make it sound better, while film of the St. Louis Cardinals walking around in the nearly completed Busch Stadium played on the television.

Clint grinned with some since of accomplishment. “Yeah, I guess that is pretty cool. Coach Thomas says he’s not worried about us losing that bad, but I don’t know…” Clint shook his head with anxiety. He began to confide in Mykel the rigorous nature of being a college basketball player. He spoke of having to practice every afternoon and keep his grades up, which had been a problem last semester. “It is getting to the point I don’t enjoy playing basketball like I did in high school.”

On the television, a man started to cut into a decorated cake, when it exploded. “What show is this?” Mykel asked, as the scene switch to a room full of law enforcement men standing around with serious looks on the faces. One of them walked over and picked up the handset of a telephone.

“Gentlemen, I don’t know who he is behind that mask,” said an older, white-haired man, on the television program. “But we need him…and we need NOW!”

“Oh, I know what this is. We were talking about it last night. Owen mentioned this. It’s a show about the comic book character, Batman. I saw it last Wednesday night. It’s kind of funny. That real hot chick is in it…Jill St. John. That makes it worth watching right there!”

“Heck yeah! She is a babe and I’m not attracted to red-haired girls,” Mykel remarked. “Most of them look like Howdy Doody.”

There was a knock at the door. “Come on in, Slick!” Slick walked in with Henry. “Sit down, guys.”

“Actually, we are here to see if you were going to go with the girls to the Student Union for that Cafe What hootenanny thing,” Slick said. “Carlene and her roommate wanted me to go and I talked Henry into going.”

“I’m watching my drink tonight,” Henry warned Slick, who laughed.

“I don’t think there will be any booze there, since it is at the Student Union,” Slick reassured Henry, as he watched the TV. “What are you guys watching?”

“It’s a show about the comic book character Batman,” Clint answered.

“I saw this same one last week, when I was at home,” Henry said. “Are they showing it over?”

“No, this is the first time it has been on it Spring Valley, because we only have two television stations and the Ozarks are the end of civilization,” Mykel grumbled. “We get everything after the rest of the country does.”

“They got a sweet looking set of wheels,” Slick observed. “You could pick up chicks in that cruising through town in that thing. They would just jump in that car.”

“Shouldn’t we go on down to the lobby?” Henry asked.

“It’s not seven o’clock yet,” Mykel said. “We’ve got a few minutes.”

“Besides if we are waiting for them, they will think we’re desperate to hang out with girls,” Clint explained.

“And it takes Carlene for-EVER to get ready!” Slick chuckled. “She has to have everything just right. I want to see if she can coax Silvy into singing. She is really shy, but she can sing like a bird.”

“I like Carlene. She seemed really fun and Silvy was nice too,” Clint affirmed.

“Not like Mykel’s friend’s hometown girl with the evil eye,” Slick said. “Carlene’s mouthy but not mean to people for no reason. If Carlene tells you off, you have it coming.”

“Hey, remember this morning, when Mykel told us he didn’t think Sherry liked him?” Clint said. “Guess who spent the afternoon eating leftover pizza from last night with her?”

“I didn’t tell you about what happened in the class we have together. She saw me walk in and yelled at me, from across the room, to come sit by her. When the professor called the role, he asked everyone named Michael if they were ‘who the young lady was happy to see.’ But, yeah, she called and wanted to know if I would come downstairs and hang out with her. I ran down there as fast as I could.”

The guys cheered and Slick held out his hand, “Slip me some skin, Mykel! You have got you a woman! Now we have to get Henry one.”

“Didn’t we say last night and this morning that Sherry liked you? And you didn’t believe us,” Clint said.

“I still don’t believe,” Mykel answered. “I have the feeling that I’m going to wake up and find it was all just a dream I had and she is a figment of my imagination.”

“Mykel, if she is a figment of your imagination,” Slick joked. “She’s got a great looking ass! Whoo! Those ski pants showed that off nice, when she would bend over to get the pop bottles out of the fridge!”

On the TV, Batman walked into a discotheque and told a greeter, “I don’t wish to attract attention.”

Slick pointed at the screen and jested, “That’s going to be me at this hootenanny thing! I’ll be the only colored person there!”

“What about Carlene and Silvy? They will be there,” Clint questioned Slick’s comment, even though he and the other guys laughed.

“I guess, but we don’t do the hootenanny thing,” Slick explained. “If you watched that TV show, Hootenanny, it was all white kids in the audience.”

There was a single ‘BING’ from the phone and Clint reached over and answered it. Mykel mumbled that it was probably his mother, calling to see how things went, his first day back in class. A smile crossed Clint’s face. “Yes, he is right here, Sherry!” Slick and Henry began snickering, as Clint handed Mykel to handset of the phone.

“Hi…yeah, we will be down in a few minutes…we are watching Jill St. John go-go dance on TV…Slick and Henry are with us…Okay, I’ll tell them…Bye!” Mykel handed the phone’s handset back to Clint, who hung it up. Once it was hung up the guys began howling, hooting and clapping for Mykel’s long awaited success with a woman. Mykel got up, from sitting on the side of the bed, and slipped on his coat. “I guess we better go down to the lobby, the girls are waiting.”

“You mean we have to leave while Jill St. John is shaking her stuff,” Slick asked with disappointment, as Jill St. John danced on TV. Batman, who was awkwardly dancing with her, suddenly acted dizzy.

“Someone put something in my drink!” Batman exclaimed, in a slurred voice.

“That’s what happened to me last night,” Henry said.

“Henry! It happened and now it is over! Rock that baby and put it to bed!” Slick laughed.

“We might as well leave,” Clint said. “That is to be continued tomorrow night, or at least it was when I watched it last week.”

“This is Spring Valley, Clint,” Mykel reminded him. “We may not see the conclusion of that until next month sometime.” As they walked out of the room, turned off the lights and locked the door behind them.