A week later, Dad tossed Charlie keys to a 1959 red Chevy Impala. “You get a ticket and that little baby will be parked for a month.”
Charlie whooped. “No more riding the bus!”
Charlie gave Carolyn a ride on her first day of high school. He told her to stay clear of the upperclass lawn. “They’re looking for fresh meat, and you’re cute. Mitch thinks so, too.” He grinned.
Carolyn felt a fluttering sensation in the pit of her stomach. “Does he?”
When they pulled into the student lot, boys swarmed the car. “Whoa, Charlie! Where’d you get this baby? She’s a beaut.” One boy opened the hood.
Another opened Carolyn’s door. “Hey, Charlie! Who’s this?”
Charlie got out of the car. “This is my little sister, Carolyn, and keep your grubby hands off. Carolyn, meet the zoo.” He rattled off a dozen names. Some she had seen at the house. Most were complete strangers. Charlie came around the car. “She’s shy. Okay? Come on, Sis. They don’t bite.”
One of the bigger boys grinned broadly. “I’d like to.”
“Shut up, Brady.”
Even close to Charlie, Carolyn felt hemmed in, trapped. Were all high school boys this big and bold?
A motorcycle roared into the lot and pulled in a few feet away. Mitch took off his helmet, swung his leg over the bike, and watched the gathering. “Hey, Mitch!” Charlie headed for his best friend. Carolyn’s heart jumped. When Mitch said hi to her, she couldn’t speak, her mouth went so dry. She looked down when her face heated up. When they all headed for the main building, she followed. Carolyn noticed Charlie couldn’t walk more than a few feet without someone saying hi and asking how was his summer vacation, what’d he do. She felt conspicuous and uncomfortable. She wished she’d taken the bus.
When two girls came over to Charlie, he forgot about her. Mitch stepped into the main office and came out with a school map. He pointed out where they were on the map. Checking her class list, he gave her directions. Map and class schedule in hand, Carolyn found her way around. At lunch break, she sat at a table with other nervous freshman girls. When Charlie and Mitch came over, the girls gawked and fell silent. Mitch ignored them, but Charlie grinned at them all before turning to Carolyn. “I’ve got football practice after school. You’ll have to take the bus home.”
The girls whispered as they watched Charlie and Mitch walk away. Carolyn knew before lunch hour ended which girls wanted to be friends with her because Charlie was tall and handsome and he played football.
To please Oma, Carolyn focused on getting good grades right from the beginning of freshman year. She met other studious girls who didn’t socialize with the in-crowd. A few of Charlie’s friends tried to make conversation with her in the school corridors. She didn’t encourage them, and they moved on to others who liked to flirt. Carolyn watched boys and girls pair up. Charlie put out the word his sister was off-limits, which was fine with her. She felt uncomfortable in her own skin when a boy looked at her, especially one she admired, like Mitch Hastings.
1962
By the time spring rolled around, Carolyn got her wish. No one noticed her. She felt invisible as she moved through the thronged corridors. The only boy who said hi every time he saw her was Mitch. Midterm he transferred into her study hall and sat in the front row. A linebacker, Mitch was taller and broader than Charlie, certainly too big for the student desks. He moved to the back row the next day, taking an empty desk across from her.
Sometimes, she felt him staring at her, but when she glanced his way, he’d be scribbling notes and flipping through his textbook. She knew from Charlie he didn’t date many girls, especially ones who “went after him.”
Mom and Dad spent most of Carolyn’s freshman year asking Charlie what he planned to do after he graduated. Charlie didn’t know. Mom and Dad became increasingly frustrated. “You’re a senior! You can’t put off sending out applications for college!” The tension mounted. It got so Carolyn wished she could live with Oma. The more Dad and Mom pressured Charlie, the more Charlie dug in his heels.
Charlie vented to Carolyn. “I wish they’d get off my back. Take a wild guess what they did.”
“What?”
“Called Mrs. Vardon. Now I’ve got the college counselor breathing down my neck. She pulled me out of study hall yesterday.” He had to report to her office every day until he finished filling out a stack of college applications, wrote essays, and gathered and made copies of recommendation letters from teachers, coaches, and his part-time employer. “Guess which university sat on top of the pile. Berkeley!”
“What have you got against Berkeley?”
“Nothing, except I’m not that impressed with their football program.” He gave her a conspiratorial grin. “Don’t tell anyone, but I’ve applied to USC.” He’d already talked to the college coach and been assured he qualified for a football scholarship.
“I’m not telling them anything until I graduate. Let ’em sweat!” He grinned with defiant pleasure. “I can hardly wait to see Dad’s face when I tell him I’m going to play for the Trojans.”
Charlie followed through with his plans, but Carolyn could tell he felt rather let down when Dad gave his blessing. And his instincts about the football program proved true, when USC went to the Rose Bowl during his first year.
Oma said she’d never seen the Tournament of Roses Parade and this would be a good time to go since Charlie was on the USC team in the big game. “Why don’t you try to get time off, Hildemara?”
“Don’t you think I’d like to go? Every day I miss is a day off our vacation time.”
“Do you mind if I take Carolyn?”
Mom’s face tightened, and then her shoulders drooped. “It’d mean a lot to Charlie to have family at the game.”
Dad said he couldn’t take time off either, so Oma took Carolyn. They stood among the crowds along Pasadena’s Colorado Boulevard, watching gorgeous flower-scented floats, marching bands, and horseback riders pass by. Later, they attended the big game, where they could barely spot Charlie among the other Trojan uniformed players “warming the bench.” He’d been happy to make the team, and he said he’d help win it again next year. They spent the night at Aunt Cloe’s Beverly Hills mansion. Her producer husband was on-set somewhere in England, and her stepchildren off at boarding schools.
1963
About the time Carolyn started eleventh grade, Dock came back in her dreams. Sometimes she awoke aroused and confused. Guilt and shame caught her by the throat. She knew the facts of life. She’d taken biology. She’d overheard whispered conversations about sex in the girls’ locker room. Girls who “did it” were considered sluts.
What would people say if they knew she’d lost her virginity while playing games with the man who lived next door? She’d only been in kindergarten, but it didn’t do any good to tell herself it wasn’t her fault. She knew it was. She had gone over there day after day, hadn’t she? She’d told Dock she loved him. She let him do what he wanted.
Carolyn went to church with her parents-and Oma, when she wasn’t away on one of her trips. She knew God existed. She imagined Him as old, with a long white beard and dressed in long white robes, His eyes blazing, and ready to cast the damned into a lake of fire. Was that where she would end up? God knew everything, didn’t He? He saw everything. God would know she boiled inside. He probably knew why, even if she didn’t.
She listened to Rev. Elias talk about the peace of God and doing what was right. She needed desperately to talk to someone. When she went over to talk with Oma, she found her grandmother packing for another trip. Oma spent more time away than at the cottage. She went to visit Uncle Bernie and Aunt Elizabeth or Aunt Clotilde. She flew to New York to see Aunt Rikka when her paintings were shown in some famous gallery. This time she was going to spend a week in San Francisco with her old friend Hedda Herkner, whose husband had died of a heart attack. Oma smiled over her shoulder as she folded a dress into her suitcase. “You’re all grown-up, Carolyn. You don’t need me.”