“Yesterday’s Gone” – Chad & Jeremy
“You need to crawl out of your shell, Christine . . . lots of people are alone on New Year’s Eve, and you clearly are not,” Frank said to her as the music from the stereo blared Proud Mary by Creedence Clearwater Revival. “I wish you could meet Ted, one of my brothers. He’s a poly-sci major, too . . . sharp guy.”
“I wish I could meet him, too . . . but Ted isn’t here, is he, so I’m drinking alone. Darlene said she’d watch out for me tonight,” Christine said as she sat at the small portable bar in Darlene’s parents’ house in Hudson, Ohio.
“Got it,” Frank said as he snapped his fingers at her. “I’ll stop by later.”
The party invitations had done their job too well. The house, at best, would handle no more than twenty people and better than triple that showed up with many spilling out into the breezeway between the house and the garage.
“Some crowd,” Frank exclaimed as he carried a trash bag behind him to keep the party refuge under control.
“If you hadn’t come over this morning and stepped in to help, I can’t imagine how all this would have come together. I don’t know how to thank you,” Darlene said as she grabbed Frank by the neck and pulled him close for a kiss.
“You can show your gratitude later.” Frank winked at her. “I need to keep circulating, so hold that thought, and we’ll pick up on it later.”
She clung to him for one more affectionate kiss, reluctant to let him go, even for a minute. There was no surer sign that physically he made her bell ring. They had worked together all day, and for Frank this was a shining moment. She wasn’t aware of the significance. An entire year with the same girl and he had even helped her with the decorating, setting up chairs borrowed from her uncle’s restaurant to pull this party together. That just didn’t happen to Frank Pucci.
“Hey...I’m Stan Freeman, and you’re . . .?”
“Christine. Hello Stan,” she said as she shook his hand.
“Cool party.”
“Yeah . . . you go to school with Darlene at Kent?”
“No, Frank’s one of my fraternity brothers. Why are you here?”
“Long story,” she yelled as Creedence continued at full volume. “My boyfriend called this afternoon and broke it off with me!”
“That’s awful . . . what an ass,” Stan sympathized. “Too bad Ted McCoy isn’t here, he.”
“Yeah, he would have really liked me . . . I heard.” She shook her head. “Who is this Ted guy? He’s got quite a P.R. person.”
“He’s a nice guy, rich, pre-law, tall, good-looking.”
“I’m starting to miss him, and we’ve never even met,” Christine commented dryly.
Stan was off the wagon and feeling pretty loose by 11 p.m., which meant he didn’t have a clue when to shut up. “My girlfriend Carol dumped me on the night I was taking her to the Association concert for homecoming. Bam, done, over.” Stan looked at Christine sadly. “I thought we had something special, but she thought she could do better.” The music changed to Something by the Beatles. “Do you want to dance?” he asked hopefully.
“No thanks. But thanks for asking,” Christine softened her rejection with a smile. Stan heaved a huge sigh and walked off toward the bar.
“This place is jumping,” Kevin said to Frank. “Who’s that girl over there next to the fireplace?”
Frank stuck his hand out. “Whoa Kimosabe . . . whoa. That’s Christine, a friend of Darlene’s who goes to Bowling Green. Her boyfriend just broke it off with her today. She’s a little vulnerable . . . so, back off,” Frank warned.
“Sounds like destiny to me . . . we have a lot in common,” Kevin concluded as he took another drink from his Rolling Rock bottle.
“Sounds like you’re an asshole to me,” Frank said as he grabbed Kevin’s arm tightly. “Stay away.”
“Okay . . . okay . . . pick on someone your own size,” Kevin said as he pulled his arm away and looked down at Frank before walking away.
Stan and Kevin wound up at the bar together. “How’s it going?” Kevin asked.
“OK.”
“What’s with Frank tonight?”
“Why?”
“He all but tackled my ass because I was interested in Christine.”
“She’s here, but she’s not really available,” Stan warned. “Besides, Frank would kill you if anything happened. When he saw me talking to her, he rushed right over and actually threatened me. I guess he’s kind of protective because she and Darlene grew up together.”
Suddenly, a loud commotion could be heard by the front door. Sam and Susie and Larry and a beautiful girl no one had ever seen before walked in with several brown bags of booze from the State Store. Jeff and several others grabbed the bottles and set them up on the bar, along with two large bags of ice. The music took a sudden, darker turn as it changed to Time of the Season by the Zombies.
“Welcome brothers . . . Sam, Susie.” Frank planted a kiss on Susie’s cheek. “Larry and who is this goddess?” He moved closer to Larry’s date and whispered, “If this guy doesn’t know how to make you smile, come get me. Larry tends to forget he’s with someone . . . happens all the time. I think he’s been hit in the head with a baseball once too often.” Frank gave her a wink, then looked at Larry, reached out shook his hand. “I put in a good word for you. You can thank me later.”
Frank continued his prowl of the party scene as he tried to protect Darlene’s house while keeping everyone happy and entertained. He stood at the edge of the dining room watching Barry lead a standing-room-only sing-along of the well-known Kingston Trio folk song. “...Sing what must be sung." Everyone applauded and began to throw out suggestions for the next song.
“Universal Soldier,” a girl in a tight red sweater and short black mini skirt yelled out.
Another request came from another girl hidden by the kitchen wall from Frank, “I Ain’t Marching Any More”.
A girl with beautiful jet black straight hair falling fluidly over her shoulders was seated on the floor at Barry’s feet. She yelled up to him “Blowin’ in the Wind”.
Someone placed his hand on Frank’s shoulder and he turned to see it was Larry. “Hey . . . what do you make out of all the girls yelling out protest songs?”
Larry shook his head and took a chug from a bottle of Pabst Blue Ribbon beer. “Don’t know . . . I look at the crowds of kids protesting on the Hill every day, and the girls outnumber the guys. Hell, they ain’t the ones going and getting their nuts blown off by some commie gook.”
Stan walked up as Barry started in on “The Times They Are A Changing”. “How long has that song been out, Frank?”
“It came out in early ’64. It was on Dylan’s third album,” Frank answered without thinking about it. Frank’s love was radio and television and announcing, and he was clearly the expert everyone turned to for facts about those industries. “Did you think you were going to stump me on that one, Stan?”
“No way,” Larry chimed in.
“In fact the name of the album was “The Times They Are A Changin’.” Frank added. “Want me to describe the cover?”
“Should of known.” Stan said and took another drink from his green Rolling Rock bottle.
“So Larry,” Frank looked around to see if Darlene was close by or not. “Where did you find her . . . and where have you been keeping her?”
“Frank, Frank, Frank . . . you’re way too small to play in the big leagues. She’s one of my fans from St Louis . . . hangs at every game.”
“Every game?” Stan asked.
“Better than that, she’s at the hotel after, too. In fact, she has even showed up in Chicago when we play the Cubs. She’s one of my groupies,” Larry explained almost nonchalantly.
“Groupie, huh? Have you fucked her?” Stan asked.
“Did he really ask that?” Larry tried to look shocked, but only managed to look cocky. “Of course I have . . . after every game. Better yet, she’s taught me how to do a few things I didn’t know about.”
“Yeah, I can’t go there,” Frank grumbled. “Girls get all freaked out if you ever show them something new after you’ve been dating a while. But what the heck, are there any more like her looking for a handsome Italian gumbah?”
Frank felt another hand on his shoulder. Larry, who was standing in front of him, shook his head and tried really hard not to laugh. Cold fear washed over Frank and he tried to recover. “Because I thought next summer about coming to see one of your games and, of course, I’d bring Darlene with me and shit . . . owww!” Frank lowered his right shoulder as Darlene found a pressure point.
“Any more like her?” Darlene asked.
Frank turned around. ”I love you, baby . . . really. I was just trying to punch it up a little with the guys . . . that’s all . . . so, I don’t look like I’m the pussy-whipped man I really am . . . really!”
“Cherry, and that is her real name, I’ve seen her birth certificate, and I would love to have you come to St. Louis next summer, but only if Darlene comes with you. That is, of course, if you’re not in Nam or dead or both.” Larry laughed and didn’t wait for an answer before walking away to find his groupie.
Frank approached Darlene who had returned to the kitchen and was attending to the food with her mom’s help. “They’re downstairs in the basement dancing. Would you come down with me?” he asked meekly, or at least as meek as a Pucci could ever be.
Darlene paused, studying him carefully, then nodded. “Sure. But you had better not ever cheat on me.”
“No, baby, I won’t,” he promised.
She smiled as her mom waved her on while giving her a thumbs-up sign that Frank couldn’t see. Darlene grabbed his hand and pulled him down the stairs.
In the basement the music was slow and romantic, better for dancing than protesting. The lights Frank had rigged up earlier that day gave it a sexy but professional atmosphere. The area set aside for the dance floor was nothing more than a section of bare concrete surrounded by the borrowed chairs. Darlene molded herself against Frank’s body and looped her arms around his neck as Percy Sledge’s voice singing “When A Man Loves A Woman” blanketed the room. Even the sight of a mini skirt pulled up on a girl’s long, stocking-covered leg didn’t distract Frank’s focus from Darlene as they danced.
“You okay, honey?” Darlene asked as she leaned her head back so she could get a clear view of his face.
“This is all so perfect, except for the whole draft thing hanging over my head.”
“Your dad will find some way to keep you safe.”
“Yeah, but what if he can’t? It’s not like he’s an upstanding citizen who plays golf every day with the president. I can’t depend on my dad to fix my life. I need to have a plan. But, I...I just don’t know what to do.” Frank pulled her close and they continued to dance.
“Don’t worry about it. We’ll figure it out,” she said without loosening her grip on him.
“It’s not fair to you. You didn’t do anything, yet your life is going to be all fucked up because of me. And what about what I want . . . what I’ve been dreaming of and studying for and taking any job just to learn . . .?” Frank’s voice trailed off hopelessly.
Darlene squeezed him tighter and nibbled on his ear, hoping to take his mind off his frustration, at least for tonight.
Percy transitioned into Paul McCartney singing Yesterday. Frank knew every word of the song, but it was more poignant than ever before. How could somebody so young as the Beatles have enough yesterdays to write such a beautiful song? It made him hang on to Darlene like never before.
Jeff, theater major extraordinaire had been handling the music for the night because Frank was so busy being host. Shortly after the Beatles song ended Jeff announced, “Hey kids! What time is it?”
“It’s Howdy Doody time,” came the answer back in unison.
“No siree bob, it is not . . . not tonight. Do we have to get up tomorrow morning and go to school?”
“NO!”
“Do we even have to go to bed tonight at all?”
“NO!”
“Okay . . . okay . . . maybe some of you will, with someone or someone else’s someone . . . who the fuck knows at this point . . . but generally the answer is NO!” Jeff said as he pretended to check this question off on the checklist.
“What it is time for is for us to go watch the ball drop and then eat a wonderful dinner prepared by our hostess and her mother.” Jeff stated and everyone applauded and obediently headed for the stairway.
Kevin stood looking out the picture window at the Christmas lights that were still on the bushes and light posts in the front yard. He rolled the glass between the palms of his hands, but he couldn’t help but overhear “Come get your glass of champagne” and “Turn on the TV, it’s almost midnight.”
“Hey Kevin,” Frank said as he handed him a plastic cup half full of golden liquid.
“Thanks.” He took the cup and stared down at the bubbles. “Last year it was Donna and the year before that, I had no one. I’m back to square one, aren’t I?”
“Don’t do that to yourself. We all have issues coming up this year, so let’s make the best of it tonight,” Frank said as he patted Kevin on the shoulders.
Everyone assembled in front of Darlene’s new 25” Magnavox Color Console TV that took up almost half a wall in the living room. On the right side was a control panel with nearly a dozen dials that Darlene adjusted to bring the picture from Time’s Square in New York City in as clear and colorful as possible.
Watching the ball drop, singing Auld Lang Syne with their friends and finally having a girlfriend that really understood him brought tears to Frank’s eyes and when Darlene looked up at him she wiped his tears and kissed him gently. “I love you Frank Pucci.”
He smiled, stroked her cheek with the back of his hand and studied her eyes. He didn’t want to commit to Darlene or any girl, not yet . . . not while he was so young. But if not now, would he have a tomorrow? Finally, his emotions overcame his logic. “I love you, too.”
Around him everyone was greeting this new year with their own fears and hopes and disappointments. What they all realized was that the life they thought they had all planned out, was no longer the life ahead of them. They were graduating from college, and what should have been the most promising year of their lives was now going to be the most tumultuous. It was their last year as students and maybe their last one as a civilian or even their last one alive. It was a sobering thought that they were trying very hard to forget . . . at least for a while.