Turtle Rock

As I had mentioned earlier, Mom and Dad frequently invited their drinking friends from the bar to our house for bourbon socials or what so call BS gatherings. With a captive audience, Dad often boasted about a kid that was taken from the back hills, and in all likelihood, saved from a life of poverty. Entertaining himself just a few feet away, watching TV, was that little kid who periodically often overheard his dad’s intoxicated gloatings and his mom’s repeated attempts to quiet him which only fell on deaf ears. Even though he always responded by saying, “oh he doesn’t know who I’m talking about,” Mom would have her way.

Oftentimes, late at night, Mom stumbled into my bedroom, sobbing and drunk. I usually pretended to be sleeping. When she did wake me up, I would plead with her to please let me sleep, explaining that I had to get up and go to school in the morning. Sitting on the edge of my bed, however, she always leaned over me, hugging me while rambling on about how much she loved me. It was often hard to understand what she was saying, but she always wrapped it up by clearly stating, “some day you’ll understand.”

Now that I know the whole story, I often wonder if they had made a pact to tell me the truth before they both passed. Unfortunately, we never really know exactly when we will die nor the conditions we might suffer from that might make us unable to communicate before we take our final breath. They ultimately took their secret to the graves with them.

One time, Dad shared a story with me about the time he worked as a production assistant for one of the Hollywood studios. Approaching an intersection near the studio, he nearly hit one of the pedestrians crossing at the traffic signal. The near victim, portly man then approached him on the drivers’ side and leaning his arm on the rolled down window, proceeded to tell my dad that it was a good thing he didn’t hit him. Embarrassed, Dad responded very respectfully and apologetically. With a smile and quite possible the trademark flip of his tie, he told my dad to just be a little more careful before continuing on his merry way. That man was Oliver Hardy, actor and comedian, best known as the foil in the famous Laurel and Hardy comedy team. Although I found it entertaining, I never could bring myself to believe that story. He also told me about bowling with the great Boris Karloff and Bela Lagosi, best known for their portrayals of Frankenstein’s monster and Dracula, respectfully.

The Shepherds moved back to Ohio just before I began my senior year. Geno began college back there in the fall. Once again, that loneliness returned and began to settle in. My final year of high school football helped take my mind off of that but when the football season ended, I began to get depressed again. Right after one of my games near the end of the season, Pam caught up with me as I was crossing the playing field, on my way to the locker room. Surprised by her presence, I hadn’t seen her for quite a while as I had been in another relationship at the time. She then surprised me by saying she wanted me back. It was at that moment that I realized I still had feelings for her, however suppressed, but I also had serious feelings for the girl I was dating. We ultimately got back together for the last time.

The following January, I stood by Geno’s side as his best man when he came back to marry his girlfriend, Charmaine. I knew Charmaine, but only through her relationship with Geno. Shortly after the wedding rehearsal, all of us gathered for some refreshments and a little socializing. I must have said something that made her think that I was claiming to be catholic. Explaining that I was not, I told her that I began school in Japan in the catholic school which was the only one in the area where English was spoken. Suddenly surprised, she sat up and asked if that school was Cherry Blossom Elementary School. When I confirmed that it was, she asked if I was that little blonde boy that they threw the going away party for before he returned to the states. I was indeed, but told her that I thought they did that for everyone, she assured me that they did not. After all those years and half way around the world, there we were once again! What are the odds, right?

The following day went as planned. Well, almost! I had been paired up with Geno’s brother’s girlfriend in the wedding party. Pam didn’t appreciate that and she told me so. During the reception, Geno took me aside and informed me that Pam had too much to drink and was in need of some help. Also in attendance was his former boss from Taco Bell. Overhearing what was going on, he offered his car for her to sleep it off. I wondered if he remembered who I was at that point but kept it to myself. We opened the car windows for ventilation before putting her in the back seat so she would be comfortable before we all returned to the celebration. Later someone informed me that Pam had gotten sick on the back seat and carpet of the car. Aplogozing to the owner, I then got her cleaned up. He told me that he would take care of the mess in his car as I prepared to take her home. Geno later told me that the carpet in the car had to be professionally cleaned. What goes around, comes around, right? I now considered the score between that Taco Bell manager and me, settled once and for all!

Just before my high school graduation, Mom and Dad let me know that they wanted to send me to Virginia to visit a couple they knew in the navy and had kept in touch with over the years. To make it more appealing, they used the couple’s daughter, whose senior picture they had shown me about a month earlier. She and I were just a few weeks apart in age and they insisted we’d get along great together. I felt a bit awkward about traveling clear across the country to visit a family I didn’t remember ever knowing. On the other hand, they were close enough that they even named their daughter, Inga Jo, after my mom and her own dad. Apparently, they used to talk about raising us together but the navy had other plans and sent us to California via a short stay in Texas before that could happen.

However uneasy I may have felt about it, I did eventually agree and was on a plane not long after graduation for a week or so in Norfolk, Virginia. They were very hospitable. Inga Jo, a free spirit, was cute and and very friendly, although she seemed somewhat preoccupied much of the time as I had also witnessed some friction between her and her mom during my visit. Inga Jo was gracious enough to take me to a couple places, one of which was the local mall, where incredibly enough, I ran into a female classmate of mine.

Inga Jo introduced me to her surfer boyfriend who I felt her mother objected to. One evening, following a heated exchange between Inga Jo and her mother, she and her boyfriend took me to Virginia Beach. I didn’t let on that I overheard what had happened between Inga Jo and her mom just prior as I’m sure it was never meant for my ears. Entering her boyfriend’s van, much to my surprise, I immediately observed a waterbed in the back. Shortly after we left the house, the two of them began to have issues, but kept it low enough that I didn’t know what it was about. It was dark upon our arrival and after he parked the van, I excused myself to take a walk while they worked things out. When I returned, he quietly drove us back to Inga’s house.

After returning home to California, Mom and Dad were curious about my trip. I told them that Inga Jo’s parents were very hospitable and seemed happy to see me, adding that Inga Jo and her boyfriend took me to the beach and that on a different occasion, I ran into a girl I knew in school while at the mall. When all was said and done, they seemed pleased that I went and that I enjoyed myself.

In my search to find an apartment I realized how difficult it could be for someone who was still three months shy of his eighteenth birthday. After all, 21 was the age of adulthood back then and the only thing an 18-year old could lawfully do was fight in the Vietnam war which was quickly drawing to an end at that time. I really wanted to go over there and win that war that I believed our politicians had made such a mess of. A higher power, however, had a different plan.

After finally working out an agreement with a landlord near the downtown area, I returned to my job at McDonald’s about a mile or so from my new apartment. In a conversation with the manager, a retired navy chief, I mentioned that I now had my own place. He consequently helped me out by giving me more hours, working split shifts and subsequently started to train me for a possible career in food service management.

Mom and Dad eventually seemed to accept that college was not meant to be in my immediate future. The reality was that I really didn’t know what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. Whenever I returned home for a visit, they always mentioned college, but never made it an obvious bone of contention. There was no question that they couldn’t afford a college education and I understood that. In all honesty, I did not believe that working while attending college was a winning combination for me after the negative impact it had on my GPA in high school. Determined to avoid setting myself up for failure, I had already seen more failures than I wanted at that point of my young life. After all, I was now at the portal of my adult life and I was determined to be more realistic where my future was concerned.

We eventually reached an agreement in October that if I moved back home and go to college, they would not require me to work as long as I was attending classes. Satisfied with that arrangement, I gave my notice to my landlord and moved back home the weekend before Thanksgiving. Still undecided about a career field, I was going to begin classes before declaring a major.

Sunday evening, before I even spent my first night back home, Mom told me that I would have to get a job because they just could not afford all of it. Feeling immediately betrayed, I quickly became uncontrollably enraged. It took everything I had to keep from lashing out and hitting something or someone! I had just given everything up and moved back home only to learn they didn’t intend on keeping their part of the bargain. Rushing to my bedroom, I packed up all my clothes, put them in my car and told her I was on my way to Ohio and wouldn’t be back, slamming the door closed as I left. I didn’t know how much she would remember of that night as she was drunk when it happened. I don’t recall where my dad was at the time. My best guess was that he was either still at the bar or at work.

Driving directly to Pam’s house, I told her what happened and that I was moving to Ohio. I explained to her that Dad Shepherd had told me on numerous occasions that if I ever wanted a good job, it could be found there. Naturally, she became upset and said she worried I wouldn’t come back. She still had two more years of high school but I promised her I would come back for her. It seemed like an eternity as we poured out our emotions to one another that night. Before leaving, we promised to write each other every day.

More to come…

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