“What’s wrong, A.J.?” Maria repeated. I was still a bit shaken from almost falling down the stairs, and I suppose she sensed it in my voice.
“Nothing, baby,” I said.
“Okay, but you sound a bit nervous.”
“It’s nothing, really. I just really missed you. Did you miss me? You didn’t say that you missed me.”
“Of course I missed you, A.J. I was bored here without you.”
“Did you flirt with any guys while I was gone?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“What I mean is, did any guys flirt with you? I’m just curious. You didn’t cheat on me did you?”
“No! Jesus, A.J.! What’s your problem?”
“Are you sure?” I asked. She seemed a little defensive, so I became suspicious. “You didn’t talk to any boys while I was gone?”
“No!” She was getting a little pissed off. I kept wondering if she was hiding something. “You were gone for almost a week and this is all you have to say when you call?”
Ignoring her logic, I pressed on. “So,” I said, “you just sat at home all week, doing nothing?”
“I did the laundry,” she said. “Is that okay with you, sir?”
“You don’t have to be so sarcastic.”
“Well you don’t have to be so nosy and suspicious!”
“Please apologize for being sarcastic,” I said.
She hesitated for a few moments. She said, “Fine. I’m sorry. Happy?”
“Yes,” I said. “Me too. I just missed you a lot, that’s all. Did you miss me? You didn’t say you missed me.”
“Yes I did, A.J. I said it five minutes ago.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot. Next time say it louder.”
Maria quickly changed the subject, and began to ask me about Virginia. I told her it was nice, and that I had a good time. There really wasn’t much to say.
“Why don’t you ask me if I flirted with any girls?” I asked her.
“What?”
“You know, I was down there on the beach and all the girls wore bikinis. Weren’t you worried or something?”
“No!”
“Why not?”
“Because I trust you, that’s why!”
“Well, still, it would be nice, you know, to sometimes think that you’re a little jealous.”
“Well, you should be happy that I trust you,” she insisted.
“All right. I guess I am. But still…” And with that I trailed off. It wasn’t the best of conversations. But, then again, we hadn’t seen each other or spoken for a week, so it was a little awkward. As usual, we ended the conversation pleasantly, each with an “I love you,” and said goodbye.
After getting off the phone, I played The Long and Winding Road.
Many times I’ve been alone, it went, and many times I’ve cried. Many words you’ve never known, but many ways I’ve tried. But still they lead me back, to the long and winding road… I must have listened to it ten or twelve times as I heard rain begin to fall outside, and stared intuitively at the poster on my wall.
On Columbus Day weekend, Maria went to her uncle’s house Upstate. I was still so in love with her. I thought about her all the time, just like I do now, only back then I was so happy. I remember having a strong desire to write Maria a poem. Actually, it was a song.
What should I write about? I kept asking myself. It was tough to write a song, no matter what it was about. I wanted this song to be special. I wanted it to illustrate my feelings for her. Most of all, I wanted to make her cry tears of joy and love. That was my plan. As I sat down at my desk with my pen and pad, I envisioned Maria, upon hearing the song, weeping like a little girl, embracing me as she’d never embraced anyone before. She’ll love it, I thought. And I knew that after hearing it she would love me more than ever before.
I remember that just as I sat down to write it, I received the Air Force Academy information packet. I read the brochures and discovered that I could probably get into the Academy if I really wanted to go. And I did want to go—badly.
As a matter of fact, I was positive that I could get in. All I needed was a recommendation from someone in the armed services that knew me well, but also wasn’t related to me. It was too bad, because I was sure you, Dad, would’ve written me a great letter. Unfortunately, you weren’t allowed to write the letter.
I was so excited that I forgot about the poem and ran downstairs and told my mother and father all about applying. Dad, you were enthusiastic about it. You really thought I could follow in your footsteps, and that was sort of like every father’s dream—to watch his son make better of himself. I remember Mom’s advice: “You’d better keep those grades up in your last year of high school. And don’t mess up with that girl.” It was just like you to express so little confidence in me like that.
But I should’ve listened to you, Mom. I was really pissed off at you that day, like I always was. I tried not to let it bother me. As usual, I tried to escape from you by thinking about jets. I remember imagining myself flying way up in the clouds, soaring in an F-15 Eagle over the Rocky Mountains. The F-15 is only 63 feet long and 42 feet wide, but it can fight like hell. It’s WEFT: high-mounted wings; two rear-mounted engines; a long, pointed fuselage; and two tail fins. Genuine American artwork.
I’d fly in one of those planes someday. My cadet uniform would command respect from all the goddamn losers in my high school if they saw me. Even you couldn’t ruin the thrill of wearing that uniform, and getting my wings. I kept thinking about how you would visit me in Colorado, and I’d take you up in a jet and I’d fly over the Grand Canyon.
With you guys, I’d be flying in the sky, but with Maria it would be heaven. I was already in heaven with her on the ground; it would be awesome to be in the sky, away from everyone, with Maria by my side. I wasn’t even sure if the Air Force would allow that sort of stuff, but I thought about it anyway.
I called Paul and told him all about it. He was pretty excited for me.
After I told him about the Air Force, I mentioned what had happened in Virginia. I always told Paul about that sort of stuff, and usually he was pretty happy for me.
“Paulie baby, how are ya?”
“Not bad. What’s up, dude?”
“Paul, my good buddy, you’ll never guess what happened in Virginia beach!”
“How many girls did you kiss, L’Enfant?”
“Hey, how’d you know?” I asked. “Did I already tell you this story?”
“No,” he said. “But a leopard doesn’t change his spots.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Never mind, L’Enfant. Just tell me what happened.”
So I told him all about Lee Anne and Vicki and the other girl. He was stiff that day, as if he didn’t care as much as he usually did. I figured he was sort of jealous, maybe, because I knew that I wanted to go into the Air Force, and he really wasn’t sure about where he was going to college. But he listened to my Virginia story, and I was happy telling it. Five minutes into the conversation, as I was describing Lee Anne’s breasts, I realized that I hadn’t told him about the Air Force application yet.
But he interrupted the thought. “Did you tell Maria yet about your little smoking habit?” I’d mentioned that Lee Anne and I first went to the stairwell to have a cigarette.
“No, I didn’t. But what does that have to do with anything?”
“Did you tell Maria about Lee Anne, and the two other girls?”