1979: Ziggy
Summer of 1979 and Danny was once
again without wheels. There was hope on the horizon, though. His dad bought a new
(used) car and told Danny he could buy the old one, a ’69 Plymouth Belvedere,
for a dollar. The Belvedere had seen better days. It had more rust than body
and was really ten years old going on thirty, but it ran. Frank told Danny, “It
will start every morning without fail, even in the coldest weather. It’s probably
worth a dollar,” he added dryly. Danny just
had to get the Belvedere inspected (his dad assured him it would pass), line up
insurance and put plates on it. Piece of
cake.
Dean Bowman, Danny’s buddy since the trailer park, was
getting married in a couple of weeks to Christine, his girlfriend of a couple
years, and he wanted Danny to be an usher. He actually wanted Danny as best man
but promised the gig to his older brother, Ronald. That was fine with Danny--
pretty great, actually. He much preferred the role of usher. No bachelor party
to plan, no standing at the altar anxiously fishing around in his pocket for the
ring. Dean looked crushed as he told him about the demotion. “So sorry, man. He’s
my brother,” Dean said, downcast.
Danny
mirrored Dean’s sad face. “Oh, man, that sucks. I was so looking forward to it,
you know?” he lied. “But I’m just glad I can be in the wedding party with you,
buddy. I’ll just ush the hell out of those guests and make you proud.”
Danny was in five weddings the last five years, none his own. He was
five-for-five in garter catches and hoped to continue his streak.
Danny hadn’t any of met Chris’
bridesmaids yet, but he hoped he got paired up with someone single. Single and
hot. Well, single and attractive would be fine. If she was too good-looking Danny would
be totally outclassed. Regardless, he knew he had to be his charming and witty
self to close the attractiveness gap and maybe even have a chance to…dare he
think it? score.
Danny was still a virgin at the
hoary old age of twenty-three. He hadn’t come particularly close to not
being one, either. Either he was too young and scared to put on the necessary moves
or just afraid of getting a girl pregnant. His mom had, impressively, drilled
into him what a huge mistake that would be. He’d seen how disruptive that was
to June’s life. His one steady post-adolescent girlfriend, Claire, was “saving
herself for marriage.” Danny, channeling Meatloaf in “Paradise By the Dashboard
Light,” all but proposed while in the throes of many overheated back
seat romps, Not that it would have done
any good. Claire and Danny broke up while still, uh, intact.
Maybe the closest Danny came was
when he was at dinner one evening with coworker Frank and “Marvelous Marvin.” The
Marvelous one was an electronics manufacturers’ representative who serviced
Upstate New York, and Motronics was a big wholesale client. Marvin was
larger-than-life in more ways than one; literally (he weighed somewhere around
three hundred pounds); and figuratively. Marv always made a loud and grand
entrance, always brought doughnuts, pastries, and coffee; and also brought his
trademark ebullience. Everyone was always happy to see him. Unlike many other
reps that barely paid notice to front-line guys like Danny and Frank, Marv went
out of his way to make them feel special, and often took them to dinner when he
was in town.
One evening when Marv was in
town, Frank and Danny met MM at Scotch and Sirloin, a tony steakhouse in Dewitt.
Marvin was like an uncle to the boys,
and they were still just boys, really. He seemed genuinely interested in their
lives and their plans for the future. “Frank, are you married yet?” Marvin
asked Danny’s coworker.
Frank practically spit out his scotch and soda. “Oh, not
yet. I’m way too immature for that right now,” Frank said.
Marvin laughed, and said, “Well, I’ll give you points for
honesty, Frank.” Marvin turned to Danny. “Where do you see yourself in ten
years, Danny? Still at Motronics?” he said.
Danny blurted out his answer: “Honestly? Dead,
Marvin.” He said it with a laugh because, why not? Nothing was gonna change his
CF diagnosis. Danny was pretty fatalistic, realistic about it. Marv was
taken aback but then Danny filled him in. Until that point, Marvin was unaware
Danny had cystic fibrosis. He asked Danny a few questions about it. Marv, like
most people, knew very little about CF.
The steaks arrived
shortly afterward, the drinks flowed, and before long, both Danny and Frank
were pretty lit. They were having a great time. Entrees were polished off and a
few rounds of drinks were, too. Marvin said, “You guys having a good time?” and
they both nodded enthusiastically. “Well, maybe I can make your great time a
lot greater,” and then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a business
card. “I’ve got an offer for you two, but there’s a catch.”
Danny and Frank looked blearily but warily at each other. Uh
oh, where is this headed? they thought simultaneously.
Then Marvin said, “This card has got the name
of a couple of call girls I happen to know,” and here he smiled, “I will pay
for you two to use their services, won’t cost you a dime—”
Frank practically leaped out of
his chair. Danny stayed seated. “—but only if you both take me up on my
offer.”
Frank looked at Danny’s eyes for
affirmation, but Danny just looked away. “Danny?! We can get laid! For
free, no strings attached! Right? You’re in, right? Right?” Frank, his
tongue thick with liquor, pleaded with his coworker.
But Danny wasn’t in. A
call girl scared the hell out of him, and he didn’t want to lose his virginity
that way--though he didn’t admit, would never admit, to Frank that he’d
never been with a girl. Danny wanted his first time to be romantic, and loving,
with someone he cared about, at least someone he liked, not with some woman who
was on the clock--so to speak. So Danny said no. And Frank said, “No!!”
Marvin sat back and watched the
interplay. In hindsight, Danny wondered if Marvin was just curious, wondering
who might win the battle of wills. Maybe Marvin had sized the two up, counted
on them giving different answers, and now wanted to see who wore the other
down. Marvin was a great guy, thought Danny, but this was some sick game.
Frank begged Danny. He practically
got down on his knees to Danny, who didn’t budge. He felt bad for Frank,
who desperately wanted this. Danny even suggested to Marvin that Frank could
have both call girls, and Frank’s eyes grew wide with delight and
anticipation. Marvin shut that down quickly. “Sorry, guys, I told you the deal,
it’s either both, or nobody.”
The boys were at a permanent
impasse. Marvin paid the check, and they all left the restaurant about nine-thirty.
Danny thanked Marvin for dinner and drinks, and even said “I appreciated the
offer, Marv.” That produced one final glare from a very sullen Frank, who wanted
to leave Danny stranded in the parking lot. I ought to tell him to check to see
if my headlight is out and then run him over, Frank thought. Danny somehow
made it home alive, but the mood on the Motronics counter was very strained the
next few days.
Dean and Christine’s wedding was
fast approaching and Friday the fifteenth was the rehearsal and then the rehearsal
dinner. Danny rode with fellow usher Rich to the church, Sacred Heart in Cicero.
They met up with Dean and Dean’s cousin, Brandon, who was the other usher. The four
of them huddled in the back of the parking lot and smoked a surreptitious bowl.
Danny was barely inside the very bright church when he was sorry he
smoked that bowl. Danny was again secretly thankful he wasn’t best man.
Inside the church, Danny and Rich were introduced to Ronald
and the bridesmaids. “This is Elaine, my married sister, so hands off,
guys,” Christine said with a warning. Elaine was a knockout and as smart and
funny as she was attractive. “She’s my matron of honor and of course will be matched
up with Ronald. Diana is my beautiful younger sister, Rich, and she will walk
with you,” she said, “And Karen, my future sister-in-law, is matched with
Brandon.”
Finally, Chris said with a big smile, “This is my very best
friend, Marilyn, and she is paired up with you, Danny.”
Marilyn was about Danny’s age and was really cute, petite,
and girly. “Nice to meet you, Marilyn. Too bad Chris’ wedding party
turned into a Beauty and the Beast thing,” Danny said in typical self-deprecation.
He was surprised when his joke made her laugh, for two reasons. One, the lame
joke; and two, Marilyn’s laugh. When she laughed it was like a machine gun
tuned to a higher pitch, a living thing that reverberated across the room and
demanded attention. Yikes, Danny thought, that is some hellacious
laugh. Maybe I should tone it down a bit. Then he decided, screw it, I
have to be funny! Damn the torpedoes!
Danny and Marilyn quickly hit it off, chatting like old friends
almost immediately. More than once he caught her staring at him and, a little
intimidated, had to look away. At the rehearsal dinner that evening Marilyn
repeatedly grabbed his hand, touched his arm, and leaned into him when she spoke.
He was certainly no expert at body language but felt a connection. The evening
flew by. Danny was more attracted to her than any other girl since Claire. He felt
a little sad when they had to say goodnight after dinner, even though he knew
he’d spend most of the next day with her.
The day of the wedding couldn’t have been more splendid--sunny
with temperatures in the seventies and just a few wispy clouds. The wedding was
understated but elegant, with about a hundred visitors, evenly divided between
bride and groom. The bridesmaids wore baby blue dresses that were practical
enough to wear after the wedding, unlike some of the monstrosities Danny had
seen. Dean wore tails, Danny and the
other groomsmen wore classic black tuxes, and everyone was wowed by the simple
beauty of Chris’ gown. She looked so happy, and Dean looked even happier, if
possible. Danny was thrilled for them both, but especially Dean, who was more
like a brother than a friend.
During the ceremony, Danny kept peeking past the bride and
groom at Marilyn, and she did the same. Her slight Mona Lisa smile made his
heart beat just a little faster. He couldn’t wait for the ceremony to be over
so they could spend more time together. As they walked down the aisle after the
ceremony, Marilyn slyly took his hand, a touch that electrified Danny. The
bride, groom, and the wedding party posed for pictures. Danny, Rich and
especially Dean, who was relieved it was over, kept up non-stop commentary that
cracked everyone up, and of course Marilyn’s staccato laugh drowned out most of
the others.
After the photographer’s marathon session ended everyone
took off in different directions for a break until the reception. “Where’s your
car?” she asked, and he just shook his head.
“I rode with my roommate, Rich. You?” he asked Marilyn.
“Elaine picked me up. I don’t have a car, either” Marilyn
said. “Follow me,” and of course he did. The doors of Elaine’s ’72 Maverick
were unlocked, and they climbed in. “Want to get high?” she asked
conspiratorially. She smokes pot, too? Girl of my dreams.
“How can I say no?” he said, and took a deep toke off a
pretty expertly rolled joint. After a few minutes they were both lost in their
own thoughts, sufficiently buzzed. They looked at each other for a long minute
and then Danny asked her “Whatcha thinking about?”
“I’m thinking about kissing you. Or you kissing me,” she
said with a smile. After a beat, she said, “Well?”
Danny, emboldened, leaned in. They smooched for a few glorious
minutes. Marilyn said, “You’re a good kisser.”
“It’s my first time ever,” Danny said with a smile, and she
laughed her machine-gun laugh. “You’re a pretty good kisser, too,” he told her,
and then she said, “It’s just one of my many talents,” and she smiled a wicked
smile.
Oh man, thought Danny. He tried to play it cool but failed, and he
knew it. And she knew it too.
The reception was held at the beautiful and popular wedding
venue Wysocki’s, near the shore of Oneida Lake. Local favorites Sleepy Hollow played
the hits and kept the dance floor full. Danny danced just about every dance,
mostly with Marilyn but one with Dean’s mom, Wanda, and another with Christine.
He got winded but didn’t care. He took a brief breather then got back out
there. Finally, the band slowed it down with a fine rendition of Earth Wind and
Fire’s “Reasons.” Danny made eye contact with Marilyn and then, Fonz-like,
jerked his head towards the dance floor. Danny immediately worried that he
overplayed his hand, but Marilyn walked slowly towards him and melted into his
arms. They slowly spun around the floor, her head against his chest, the smell
of her perfume driving him wild. Danny wished that “Reasons” was two hours
long, and so did Marilyn.
The newlyweds were having so much fun they outlasted most
of the guests, but they finally drove off into the night about ten-thirty. By
then, the band had finished and packed up. The bridal party were stragglers but
when they got the evil eye from the Wysocki’s clean-up crew they also called it
a night. Rich said to Danny, “Hey Rooms, you ready to go?” Rich and Danny had
lifted the nickname “Rooms,” shorthand for “roommate,” from a book they
liberally quoted from, the Jim Bouton tell-all baseball diary, Ball Four.
“Give me two minutes, Rooms, willya?” Danny said. Rich knew
what was at stake, and nodded. Danny caught up with Marilyn, who was waiting
for him, anyway. “I’d like to see you again. I have to see you again,”
Danny said, heart plainly visible on his sleeve.
“Yes, me too, Danny. How about if you come over on Monday?”
Marilyn said. Elaine was waiting somewhat impatiently for her. Monday? That
was years away! What if I don’t live that long, Danny thought, but he
played it cool. Well, cool for Danny.
“Sure, Monday works for me,” he said, trying not to show
too much excitement. He failed miserably. Marilyn took his left hand, and very
slowly and sensually, wrote her phone number on his palm.
“Be careful not to wash that hand too soon when you get
home or you may never hear from me again,” she said with a smile.
“Fat chance,” said Danny. He already had it memorized.
“Good, ‘cause I’m looking forward to really getting
to know you,” said Marilyn, and her smile and sly wink said the rest.
Danny woke up Monday morning on a mission. He had to get
the Belvedere on the road, today. As soon as he got to work he cornered Mark
Longley and asked to borrow his car. Danny told him why, in some (but not all) detail.
“How can I say no to a request like that?” Mark said, laughing. “Sure, all yours.”
Danny left about noon, his normal lunchtime. He brought a
ham sandwich to eat while he drove. The mission was more complicated than it
would have been if he had planned better, which was the story of his life.
Instead of “Measure twice, cut once,” Danny was “Cut once, measure, cut again,
swear, throw the board away, swear some more.” First, he needed to go to Burnett Process,
where his dad worked, in some industrial park he had never been to before. His
dad had the registration for the Belvedere. Then, Danny had to travel diagonally
across the county to the trailer park where his dad and stepmom lived, because
Lulu had the car’s title. Then, he had to take both pieces of paper and proof
of insurance to the DMV. Only then could he claim title to the Plymouth and
fulfill his date with destiny that evening.
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