1974 Sadie Hawkins Dance. “CHUCK” The Heartbreaker Part 3

“Chuck Bucklin? Yes, I called several times and left messages to see if he was coming to our 25th Farmstead Class of 1974 Reunion. But he never returned my calls.”
Cynthia Mannor, Farmstead High School Alumni Chairman, Farmstead High School. Class of 1974.

“Chuck? No, I didn’t know him that well at school. Some of the Chicks… I mean women dug him though. But he pretty much kept to himself. After High School, he just disappeared off the face of the earth. He never came to any Reunion parties. So I don’t know. I mean there are rumors… One Guy said he ran into Chuck making Cappuccinos at an Espresso Bar in Greenwich Village in NYC, some other Folks said he was a Struggling Actor down in Hollywood.”
Gary Muselli, Drama Club, Debate Team, Farmstead High School, Class of 1974

“Ya know funny you should mention him. My wife and I took a Day Vacation last week in Napa Valley Wine Country.  I booked a Deep Tissue Massage for myself at a local Spa. So anyway, as I walked down the Spa hallway to get changed – I saw this Employee, Older Guy struggling with a big load of towels. “Oh My God… It’s Chuck!” I thought. But before I could say anything the Guy went into an Employee Locker Room. So I don’t know if was really him. But Seriously? Does anyone really care whatever happened to Chuck Bucklin?! Who knows? It’s a Big World out there.”
Gary Radovich, Water Polo Captain, Farmstead High School, Class of 1974.

The Story Continues… 

The tube of Brylcream emptied with obscene noises into my hand, making loud SPLURRRPPP! SPLUUUUURRRP! SPLLUUUUUURRRP! sounds. 

Hands loaded fully with oily grease I proceeded to slather my hair to the point it was fully coated. Pushing the soddened mop back I slicked back mess away from my face. 

I then grabbed an old pair of Levi’s, a white t-shirt, an old bike lock chain which I draped rakishly across my chest, pair of sneakers and my Farmstead Letter Jacket – all donned – completed my ensemble.

With a scalp full of greasy kid stuff I did my best to Combe my hair into an adequate DA and Pompadour with limited success. 

As a finishing touch, I put on a pair of cheap sunglasses, took a pack of Lucky Strikes and rolled them into my t-shirt sleeve, looked in the mirror and… Hey, Man check out Elvis! Costume Challenge was done. 

I was ready to Boogie! 

Grabbing the car keys from my Mom, who had loaned me her car for the night, I was off and running.

I then drove to Christine Jensen’s House in Mom’s old Ford.

There was a teeny little bit of an obstacle in regards to Christine.  We had a little history. And according to school spies and gossips – Christine hated my guts.

I don’t know why? Well, maybe I did.

It was probably because I cut out sitting next to her in the bleachers during a Farmstead Basketball Fame last year during halftime.

You see a couple of years ago, a friend had shown me a Farmstead yearbook with all the incoming Freshman. He pointed out with flourish All the Chicks he thought were Foxes. Christine was one of them.

I agreed with alacrity.

“Yeah Man She’s Bitchin!” I said. And that was that. So I thought.

Months later I was sitting next to Christine at the game. I hadn’t planned on it and I suspected my Buddy had something to do with the seating arrangement.

Unfortunately, the time had not been kind to Christine. She had put on a considerable amount of weight, was flush with what looked like a very bad case of cystic acne, plus her breath smelled strongly of Dinty Moore Beef stew.

We didn’t talk much during the Game. 
So at half time, I split. Heading for the exit doors and home.

 
A few weeks later after the game – I received word that Christine thought I was a Jerk and hated me.

So I thought it was totally bizarre that Sara wanted to meet up there. But, Women… You can never figure them out.

I got to Christine’s and headed up to the front door of her house. My bike lock chain rattling merrily along, as I strutted with a confident swagger that would have made “The King” proud.

I gave a shave and haircut knock.

 
And the door swung open revealing Christine and… A Very Cute Sara Connolly! 
Sara without her glasses looked great. 
She was wearing a maroon cardigan with large FU emblazoned on her left pocket, pleated dress, knee-length, of course, hair clips and… Lipstick! I was struck speechless.

Christine, on the other hand, looked like an enormous Orange Pumpkin or a lumpy Summer Squash in her costume.  But at least her acne had cleared up.

“Hi Chuck!” they said in unison.

 
“Ladies, how’s it hanging?” I said suavely. 

And in I went.

And I have to say Christine was the perfect hostess. There was no stink eye or bad blood between us from the way she treated me. That is unless the potato chips she offered were poisoned.

Grabbing a fistful of Lay’s Potato Chips I crammed them into my mouth and said in a choked voice “Let’s Roll!”

Yeah in situations like this I was the Crown  Prince of Small Talk. But Hey! I was in character.

“Chuck, you don’t mind if we give Christine a ride to the dance? She’s gonna meet her date there Sara asked politely.

“Nah. That’s Cool Man I said eyeing Christine nervously wondering if she’d fit in the car wearing The Great Pumpkin costume she had on.

But with some maneuvering, we all managed to somehow squeeze into the front seat of Mom’s old Ford.

 
And so our little party of three were off to the dance.

I was kind of sorry the trip only took 15 minutes to get to school as Sara was pleasantly mashed against me due to the girth of Christine’s voluminous costume.

 
The girls talked about the dance and I put on KYA AM Radio Station. FM radio was not really popular back then so it was AM radio stations for most kids back then, which meant you had to listen to a lot of Sugary “Pop.” I was strictly a Black Sabbath Man. Led Zeppelin, Queen, Uriah Heep, Grand Funk, and Foghat were in my wheelhouse as well.

Hell, I am still a headbanger even today. Nothing gets my blood singing more than hearing crashing guitars, thunderous drumming and  Operatic vocals that would pierce a 3-inch lead wall. Today I rock to bands with names like Fates Warning, Mastadon and Volbeat.

After parking “My Ride Baby” it took several minutes to extract Christine out of the car as she had become firmly wedged between the front seat and dashboard. We finally got her out with some tugging and pushing with a resounding “POP!” NOISE and headed to the Auditorium.

A short walk took us to the Auditorium where cheerful AM kind of Rock n Roll hummed out of the building. For this dance, they were skipping a band and playing records over loudspeakers. Kind of a disappointment but it sure beats a lousy band butchering some of our favorite songs doing off-key covers.

Crowds of kids, couples their arms entwined around each other swarmed like bees returning to their hive.

A warm feeling crept over me as I suddenly felt like I “Belonged” to something. It was also relieving in a sense to see that many Guys were actually having Fun rather just surviving this ordeal of Tribal Initiation.

Well Hell! This Boy wanted to have fun too.

So I immediately asked Sara if she wanted to dance. “Heck yeah,” she said.
Grabbing her hand I proceeded to swing her out to the dance floor with enough force to propel her into the top row of the bleachers.

On the dance floor, I was in my element like a duck to water. I had zero musical talent but this White Boy had rhythm. I strutted, gyrated and rattled my Bike Chain like I had a sand crab in my shorts.

Turns out Sara wasn’t a bad dancer herself. Not as primal like my Joe Cocker style but more graceful in her moves more like…Cherie Curry of the “Runaways.”

Kids around us gave us more room as Sara and I shook the boards to the sounds of Deep Purple’s “Highway Star” blasted out of the loudspeakers.

We then toured the dance floor dancing away to sounds of The Beatles “Back in the U.S.S.R., Rolling Stones, ” Mother’s Little Helper, ” and the Beach Boys “Surfing Safari, ” and Elton John’s “The Bitch is Back.”

With each song we danced my trepidation gave way slowly to a feeling of…should I say it –  Joy?! And with each passing song the happier I felt, as Sara and I danced without taking a break. We must have danced at least 6 songs in a row. Hell yeah man I was starting to have Fun!

Okay break time and we slumped onto first bleacher row spent and sweaty.

The crowd parted and my friend Tyler walked unsteadily towards us holding the hand of Billy Samson. They both were wearing the same matching blue and white OP shirts. Both looked they were half in the bag.

“Chuuuuuckkk!!! You look great out there!”

 
“Thanks, Dude. Are you Guys havin’ having a good time?”

“Yeah, Yeah. But Billy keeps bugging me to dance with her.”

“Tyyyylerrr! I wanna dance!” laughed Billy who then gave out a tremendous Belch! ” Uh ‘Scuse me,” she added then laughed again.

Yeah, they had been drinking.

“Later Billy I promise. Right now I wanna grab a butt outside. Yo Chuck, you wanna go out to smoke?

“Nah I’m good.”

“Later Dude. Hey lookin’ good out there you two!” he said walking away with a wink dragging Billy behind him who was swaying and tottering on her feet.

With Tyler out of the picture I thought it might be a good time to go for my famous ‘Ray Steven’s” Quick Wrestling Clinch with Sara. As I put my arms around, leaned over for a  kiss…a sudden enormous shadow loomed over us.

“Pat! How’s it going Stud!” Boomed Bob Cattleman. Giving me a high five that left my entire right side of my body numb.

‘Uh, fine Sir…i mean Bob” I stammered.

I felt like Tiny Tim dwarfed by King Kong.

‘Heh. Call me Bob Pat.” “Hey, Pat have you seen Candy around? I think She’s in the can putting on her costume. He bellowed.

“No Bob we haven’t seen her.”

“Heh. If you do, tell her I’m looking for her. OKAY?!”

“Yeah, sure Bob.”

“What are guys doing at this Dumb Candy Ass excuse for a Girls Party?”

“Having fun.” squeaked Sara.

‘Fun. You call this FUN?!” He grumbled ominously.

Bob was only happy when he got to break things or crush his enemies.

“I do!’ And furthermore (FURTHERMORE???!!!) His Name is ” Chuck” not Pat!” Sara said looking up defiantly at Gigantor.

Damn the girl had a pair of brass ones contradicting Bob like that publically. Most of us had learned a long time ago that it was better to let Bob be Bob.

Bob’s eyes flashed with anger. And I automatically put my hand on Sara’s knee in a protective manner.

He gave us a kind of admiring nod, smacked his lips at Sara a few times as if wondering how she’d taste with a side of fries and ketchup, and then stomped off into the crowd.

The DJ put on a slow song – Eric Clapton’s “Wonderful Tonight” and Sara pulled me out to the dance floor. She fit nicely against me and as we danced I could feel her hands rubbing my back.

At first, I kind of stiffened but then relaxed against her. Wow! This chick really likes me. Me! Chuck the former Creep! I couldn’t believe my good fortune. It seemed my luck with the chicks was finally changing for the better.

I leaned in, Sara put her hand on my shoulder and closed her eyes, our heads coming together, lips parted for a Big One. And then the lights blazed up fully onstage and everything changed.

Astrologists, Prognosticators, Palmists, and Spiritualists of their ilk say that our lives are ruled by the stars in the sky. And that the alignment of the planets affects our actions. If that is the case what occurred next was due to some Cosmic Twist of Fate, Kismet, a Cruel Opposition of Planets, a Miserable Star of Destiny that had been obscurely hovering on the horizon suddenly had risen to its ultimate zenith thus affecting the Disaster that followed.

The lights were blinding and we all blinked. It was kind of like one those vampire movies where all of a sudden, the Hero whips open a window to let in light or pulls a cross out on his Undead Adversary and a holy light streams forth, blinding the monster, who recoils averting his face with a snarl. Yeah that’s how it felt to me. Nope don’t even try it, it ain’t gonna happen Dude, some things aren’t meant to be,  SO BACK THE “F” OFF SUCKER!

Sara and I drew apart, as Mr.Elwin Shoemacher, school Vice Principal took the microphone and walked to center stage.

“Kids! We have the results of the Costume Judging Contest for this years Sadie Hawkins Dance. We’re gonna start now with announcing our winners!”

Mr. Shoemacher was joined onstage by Gail Huptman, Student Body President and Activities Director. Gail was bearing a handful of ribbons and a large trophy.

“In THIRD PLACE is Robert Neville and Christine Jensen as…uh ” The Great Pumpkins!”

Robert and Christine went up on stage and got a Blue Ribbon.

“In SECOND PLACE and for the “Cutest Couple” Costume I may add – Tyler Jones and Billy Samson.”

Tyler came up on stage and said loudly “Billy is in the restroom hurling – whadda I win?” He got his red ribbon and waved to his friends out in the audience. He saw me and gave me a thumbs up.

“And in FIRST PLACE…”

I got ready to stand and walk on stage. I took a breath and stood to pull Sara to her feet.

“And in FIRST PLACE – Bob Cattleman and Candy Benson as THE VIKING COUPLE!”

Bob stomped up onto the stage followed by Candy who was dressed in this Valkeriie Costume that made her look like the Goddess Athena. Wow! I mean wow!

She looked like she had put a lot of time in her costume and it showed. It was a totally bitchin’ ensemble, form-fitting, absolutely perfect. A golden nimbus seemed to hover around her. I think the mouths of every male in the audience dropped wide open at this vision of female pulchritude.

Bob, ever the gentleman walked over and snatched the Large Trophy out of Gail’s hands, then shifted back and forth on the balls of his feet, waiting impatiently for the picture to be taken, glaring at the audience the whole time, then dragged Candy off stage trophy in hand.

I sat down stunned, embarrassed dropping my hand and releasing Sara’s at the same time as I slumped back onto the bleachers.

I sat there stunned, mortified. I had been cast from the top of Mount Olympus, deemed unworthy. I felt shabby and unclean.

I was so sure they were going to call our names as First Prize winners.

As the old-timers put it ” We hadn’t cut the mustard” and I was pissed.

“Damn it should have been me up there. I should have been me up there with Candy Benson! Not that Huge Pile of Walking Luncheon Meat!” I thought.

I got up and made some lame mumbled excuse about having to go to the bathroom and stalked out of the Auditorium. My inner Daffy Duck in full bloom rage.

But instead of muttering cute sulky phrases like “Suffering Sucatash!’ I was yelling, cursing a tapestry of profanity. I kicked the school in frustration as hard as could. Lousy School! Lousy Date! Lousy Fricken’ Life!!!

I smoked several cigarettes and continued kicking school walls till my feet were screaming with pain. Goddammit! Goddammit, it should have have been me! Shiiiiiiit! Owwwww! My foot! God dammmit! Okay now I was literally hopping mad.

I limped back into the auditorium. My mood foul. I wanted to leave this crummy dance. I wanted tear off this stupid costume. I wanted to take this little Chick back home to Mama. Her! In her ridiculous costume, that was so voluminous she was lost in it! And me a greasy mess, looking ridiculous in this stupid costume. We were two Lame Ass nobody’s. No wonder we didn’t win that lousy, rotten, stupid contest!

” Let’s split!”

“Is everything ok?”

“Yeah. I’m just tired.”

“What happened to your foot?”

“Nothing. I tripped on a rock outside.”

“Do you want to talk?”

“No! Now get in the car! Please Sara just get in the car, I’m tired and I want to go home.”

I drove her home in silence. I had turned to ice. You could have chilled glasses just by me staring at them.

I got her home and parked in front of her house.

“Chuck…I…”

“Thanks for inviting me to the dance. Good Night.”

I lit up a cigarette. I stared out through the car’s windshield. I wasn’t budging. No walk to the front door stuff for me.

“Chuck…”

“Thanks again. Goodnight Sara.”

Silence.

I glanced over and Sara had “The Look,” the look I had seen numerous times before in my parent’s eyes. A look of abject misery and failure. It was a look that said “How could this Child be such a disappointment? “Sara’s eyes said the same thing to me and a whole lot more.

I hated “The Look” it reminded me of how rotten I was inside. It made me feel ashamed.

I went back to staring out the window exhaling smoke from my cigarette.

I heard a half sob as the passenger door, opened and closed quietly.

She was gone.

And Something inside me broke.

I drove home. Mentally trying to convince myself that what I had done, had been for the best. But my conscience said something quite different.

Chuck. You Prick.

Letting myself into the smelly apartment we called home I tore off my stupid jacket, the bike chain and threw them onto the couch.

Everyone was asleep. So I poured myself a glass of milk from the fridge and sat at the kitchen table. Glass of milk untouched. Staring at the table top for what seemed an eternity.

I had done right thing. Hadn’t I?

I didn’t want to really be with Sara. I wanted to be with Candy. Why lead Sara on?  And WHY did I feel like a FIRST CLASS PRICK? AN ASSHOLE?! I had done the right thing. Well Hadn’t I?!

And if I had,  shouldn’t I feel good? After all I was now a Free Man. The problem was The Free man felt absolutely miserable.

 
So Why in the Hell did I feel so rotten? 

After all…

Candy would come around eventually. Wouldn’t she?

The table top had no answers and I was tired.

And at some point I guess I fell asleep sitting there.

I began to dream…

I  was following Candy Benson who was walking across the quad. She walked through a classroom door and I followed. Except for the setting had changed I was back at the Sadie Hawkins Dance trying to find Sara Connolly. I was told by a teacher she was in the bathroom. So I waited but Sara didn’t come out of the bathroom. I went to find the teacher to ask if she had left. I saw Candy and Sara slow dancing together. And then I was on Fisherman’s Wharf in San Francisco. Someone was sitting on a bench in front of me. It was Candy. She was staring out at the ocean at a Clipper Ship that was sailing away. She looked like she had been crying and she looked utterly devastated. My heart broke. She looked at me and said “They’re both on that ship. They’ve left.”

My head bounced off the kitchen table with “BONK” and I woke up with the morning sun streaming through the apartment window.

No one was up yet so I dragged my sorry self to my room and collapsed into bed. I slept until late afternoon.

On Monday school resumed its monotonous grind. Some of the Guys bragged about their supposed conquests but I knew they were just full of it.

No one asked me anything and I suppose they took my foul mood as a testimony to how my “date” with Sara went.

The rest of the year went pretty much as suspected with a few surprises. Tyler broke up with Billy, Stevenson started dating one of Parducci’s sisters, I got straight A’s in all my classes and was accepted to a college up north. Socially I remained alone for the remainder of the year. And no, I didn’t go to the Prom. And no, Candy Benson and never acknowledged my existence.

Oh, there was that embarrassing moment when we bumped in the hallway of school. Candy flashed me one of her dazzling Ultra Brite smiles, said “Excuse me Carl and proceeded on her way. Since my name was not “Carl” this hardly counted as an acknowledgement.

As far as Sara…

Since we didn’t share any breaks or classes, I never got a chance to talk to her again. It was as if she had vanished off the face of the earth. And if I did see her, what could I say?

And now comes the tough part.

I close my yearbook with a sigh. My calloused hand with one of it’s arthritic fingers, sandwiched between the pages, marks the page of your Senior Graduation Picture.  I bow my head, an older man lost in his memories.

I open my yearbook and stare at your picture.

Sara,

Maybe if we had had met again we could have had some sort of reconciliation, maybe we could ended up going out on a date, to a movie, bought popcorn and drank cokes, sat in the back row. Maybe we could have gone to the Prom, maybe had one last slow dance, and maybe, just maybe we could have shared a parting kiss.
Nowadays memories of youth are colored dark and gray, filled with such sadness and regret.

So please I need to tell you something important right now. Please don’t tell me too much time has passed and that it’s not important. It’s Important to me!  Please DON’T TURN AWAY FROM ME! I can’t bear this awful memory…this regret anymore. Please stop walking away! PLEASE STOP! Sara, it’s important! For God’s sake turn around Honey. LISTEN. PLEASE! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD LISTEN TO ME, OH MY GOD STOP WALKING AWAY! I HAVE TELL YOU! I HAVE TO TELL YOU SOMETHING VERY IMPORTANT. I am crying! I can’t see! Everything is so dark! I HAVE TO TELL YOU!  I have to tell you something little girl. PLEASE LISTEN TO ME!

SARA CONNOLLY I AM SO VERY, VERY SORRY!

so, please baby let me go…

Finis