“Tears on My Pillow” (instrumental)
Listen to Chapter 7
When the end of the week came, Julie packed her suitcase for another weekend, cleaned her room, flicked the light switch, and locked the door. She stopped briefly at the gas station. And then—home! The miles could not go by fast enough. Before turning into the welcome driveway, Julie stopped for the mail. There was Bob’s paycheck, Momma’s new flower catalog, a card from Darlene—and a letter from Allen.
“Yes, sweetheart, I’ll be down for the Fourth,” it said. “Your plans sound swell. Maybe Mom and Dad will come to your place for the dinner, too. And a swimming party at Donaldsons’ sounds wonderful! We’ll go to the beach next time I’m home. Tell Bob thanks for his invitation—I think I can stay Saturday night with him at your place, unless something drastic happens (ha! ha!). I love you….”
Julie stuffed the letter back into its envelope and hurried on into the house.
Bob’s ready smile was there to greet her. “How was your week, sis? Sorry, I have to run now, but I’ve got to pick up Sandra. Maybe I’ll bring her back here for supper.” And once again Julie was spinning in her old familiar world.
Plans could not have worked out any more perfectly than they did that weekend. Bob and Sandra, just bursting to announce their engagement, were most eager and happy to talk to Pastor Don and Betty Macintosh—Allen’s parents. And Momma’s surprise birthday dinner worked like a charm! She couldn’t have suspected it less. Then the screams and laughter from the pool at Donaldsons’ drowned any gloominess that might have crept into the hot summer day. There were the usual soda floats to top everything off—then Allen was the first to see the clouds.
Bob, Sandra, Allen, and Julie had said goodbye to the gang and made their way to Bob’s car when Sandra suddenly remembered she still had Kurt’s car keys, which she had playfully confiscated during the pool party. Kurt and Bill, of course, were still in the pool trying to outdo each other in endurance. Bob and Sandra went back to take Kurt’s keys to him. Allen and Julie stood outside by the car.
“Where’s the moon tonight?” asked Allen mystically.
Julie looked up into the darkened, starless sky. “Guess there isn’t any moon tonight,” she concluded casually.
“But there was an almost full moon last night,” Allen persisted. “It’s the clouds—see? See that faint patch of light behind the power lines—that’s the moon behind the clouds.”
“Oh.” Julie wasn’t particularly concerned with moon or clouds.
“There’s going to be an unexpected storm tonight,” Allen went on. “Wait and see.”
“Hey, when did you become Mr. Weatherman?” Julie teased.
But Allen was dead serious. “Don’t be surprised at anything that happens tonight, Julie. Most people wouldn’t expect it, but—”
But Bob and Sandra had returned, laughing and loving and living in their own special way. Allen opened the car door and he and Julie got inside.
They were almost home when it started to rain, large splashy drops, at first, that plopped like little fat people on the windshield. Julie put her hand out the open window. The raindrops felt warm and wet—almost like teardrops.
“Say, I guess you were right!” Julie directed to Allen. “But it’s probably only a summer shower. It won’t last too long.”
“It may last,” Allen disputed in that same low ghostly voice, “quite a while.”
“Wh-what?” For the first time in months, Julie was afraid of Allen as she looked questioningly into his emotionless eyes.
“Hey, you two,” Bob called from a seemingly different world, “what do you want to do tomorrow? What time do you have to be back, Allen?”
Allen answered, but Julie did not hear. The sound of impending doom was ringing in her ears.
The rain was growing worse and worse until, by the time the kids got home, they were glad for the shelter of the ancient house. It had even thundered just before they shut the door behind them. Just then, there was a knock at the door.
“Darlene!” Julie exclaimed. “Don’t knock; come on in!”
“Well,” Darlene drawled, “I didn’t want to bother anyone. I mean, well, you four—well, anyway—”
Darlene’s characteristic blush made Julie laugh. “You’re staying in town for the night, aren’t you?” Julie guessed. “It’s raining pretty hard now to go back.”
“Oh, it’s not that,” insisted Darlene. “Just that the dirt roads out at Harvey Hills get pretty muddy—”
“Don’t make excuses.” Julie pulled her inside.
“Well, if you don’t mind,” Darlene said hurriedly, “I think I’ll go straight to bed. I’m pretty tired.”
Julie, seeing Darlene’s slight glance at the four of them, protested when Bob said, “But won’t you join us for some hot chocolate and popcorn?”
“Are you kidding!” Darlene groaned and put both hands on her stomach. “After all the food we had at Donaldsons’?”
“Well, some popcorn, anyway.” Bob winked, knowing Darlene’s secret passion for hot buttered popcorn on rainy nights.
Darlene followed them into the kitchen and became engrossed in popcorn making and gay patter with Bob and Sandra, while Allen and Julie stood silently side by side and watched the rain beat upon the sullen earth.
“Funny,” Allen grunted. “This time last week I would never have guessed.”
“Neither would I.” Julie did not even raise her eyes.
“Well, it’s been a good summer—” The strangeness in Allen’s voice was almost unnoticed—“a good romance.”
Allen’s voice showed no inflections. “Don’t deny it, Julie. We were both at that party tonight. I know what they’ve been saying—I know how you feel.”
“But I’ve told no one how I feel!” She stopped quickly, fearing self-exposure.
“Just your dear best friend and your trustworthy ‘brother’,” he said. “But,” he interjected as she protested, “nobody said anything to me. I know—I knew it.”
Julie was quiet only a moment. “But does it have to happen, Allen? This storm, the rain, the tortured silence?”
“I still love you, Julie,” he replied like a true philosopher, “in my own boyish way. But you’re a woman now. How can you wait for me?”
“How can I not wait?” Julie was growing weak.
“Please don’t get sentimental,” he said, not unkindly. “I know there’s no more hope, not now, not for a long time—maybe never.”
“Five years?” But Julie’s struggling attempt at humor failed.
“Maybe five hundred. Whenever I grow up, whenever I find myself—in your adult world. But maybe we’ll still be in different worlds—maybe not. No one can say until the time comes—if it ever does.”
“Oh, Allen, please—”
“Popcorn and chocolate’s ready!” called Sandra cheerfully.
“Come on,” Allen nudged.
Reluctantly, Julie went. Amidst the conversation, she was hardly aware of when Darlene bounded away with, “‘Night, sis; I’m going to bed. Don’t wake me up when you crawl in!”
Julie suddenly noticed the faded gray and white tile squares on the kitchen floor. She remembered when she had scattered that floor with her paper dolls or chalked up with hopscotch. Just a few feet over there was the thin blue Persian rug that stretched almost wall-to-wall across the living room floor. But she mustn’t live in the past—there must be a clean break. There had to be—
“Oh, uh, let’s go on into the living room and turn on the hi-fi.” Julie knew the others were watching her. But they had just gotten settled when the music stopped and the lights went out.
Sandra, as expected, squealed with, “Oooh, Bob, I’m afraid of the dark!”
“I’ll hold your hand, little girl,” Bob returned.
Julie’s quick efficiency soon produced a storm candle she set on the iron chest at the opposite end of the sofa. The light revealed Bob and Sandra’s usual embrace and kiss. Julie giggled.
Julie noted it was at this very time a week before when Bob and Sandra had sat in the same spot. But this time, instead of being curled up alone in Grandpa’s chair, Julie sat with Allen on the other end of the sofa. The storm showed little sign of letting up. Both Allen and Julie wished that the power line to the house hadn’t broken when the eucalyptus limb fell; now they couldn’t even have any soft spooky music to set the scene.
Allen turned his face toward Julie’s, but she pulled away just before his lips touched hers. Slowly Allen withdrew his arm that had rested on her shoulder.
The candlelight’s flickering was casting weird shadows around the room as the wind howled mournfully outside and dashed the water against the old windowpanes. And the rain was still falling fast and hard.
She knew the time had come. But she knew better than to make plans for Bill. As handsome and brawny as Bill might be, he was still in love with Sandra—Bob or no Bob. Besides, there was that cute new girl Beth; even Sandra had hinted that there might be something there as far as Bill was concerned.
As for Kurt, well, he was pretty special. But not even Julie could quite match up to Kurt’s intellectual world. And guys at school—there was no hope there until September. Two and a half long hot dreary months lay ahead. Julie knew the score well.
Now the wind had ceased; only the monotonous pitter-pitter-patter-splash continued in the night. Allen placed one hand on Julie’s hands, folded in her lap. It reminded her of a November night long, long ago—almost four years now—their very first date when he had first held her hand. Now he took her chin in his other hand and pressed her trembling lips close to his own.
“Allen.” Her voice reflected all the simplicity and wide-eyed romance that it had held that November night.
“Julie.” It was automatic.
She chuckled, thinking of a corny television commercial for shortening. “Snowdrift!”
His face was expressionless.
*****
Bob rose slowly and stretched, then he gently pulled Sandra to her feet. “About time to go home, angel?”
Sandra nodded. “If we’re going to Disneyland tomorrow.”
He kissed her cheek lightly.
“Well, Julie, if I don’t see you tomorrow night, we’ll see you next weekend. And, Allen, maybe in a few weeks, huh?” It was Sandra who spoke.
“Maybe.” Allen’s response was cool.
“Goodnight, little sis,” Bob said kindly. Then he left with Sandra.
*****
When the blinding crystal chandelier lights blinked back on, it startled both Allen and Julie. Maybe the limb hadn’t broken the wires. Julie blew out the candle.
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay here all night with Bob? It’s awfully late to drive home to Oak Grove all alone.”
Allen’s face was blank. “No. No, I’ll be okay. I’ll make it fine.”
Unwilling tears filled her eyes just before she headed toward her bedroom. He grabbed her by the bedroom door.
“Julie, listen to me—don’t cry!”
Still turned away from him, she covered her face with her hands.
“Julie!”
Suddenly she brushed her hair from her temples and spun around. “Allen!” It was almost a rebuke that flashed from her tearless face.
“Julie?”
“Allen…”
“Snowdrift!” He laughed loudly.
Wordlessly, she brushed past him to the hall closet. Retrieving his coat, she placed it on his arm.
“Thank you for your hospitality,” he said as he pulled his arms into the sleeves and straightened the collar. “Tell Bob and Sandra thanks, too.”
As he opened the door, the chill dampness rushed in. “Maybe I’ll see you at La Paloma College next year, Julie; I don’t know.”
“Goodbye, Allen.” Goodbye, dear Allen—goodbye.
The screen door slammed shut when Allen was halfway down the steps. Then the darkness enveloped the form she had once grown to love. In a moment she heard a car door open and shut, its sound echoing through the empty street. She snapped off the porch light. It was rather chilly, even though the rain had stopped. She shut the door.
And there was silence.