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Fireworks
Lynda hurried to finish up. It was 6 P.M., and the crowds were gathering outside of The Bryce Jordan Center, beneath the towering new construction around Beaver Stadium. Her new boyfriend, George, was to meet her at the hot dog stand on the walk between the two buildings. Doctor Savidge would be a problem. It was becoming a habit. He came into the receptionists’ office as predicted. Lynda was thin, with luscious rounded breasts that stood out nicely for all to admire. She had a dark July tan. Her dark brown hair hung straight to her shoulder blades. She had already changed into her slinky black dress with the thin shoulder straps. It almost reached to her knees. She skipped backwards on one foot while putting on her spiked heels, keeping a wary eye on the approaching doctor.
“Strange outfit for fireworks night, Lynda,” Dr. Savidge said, looking her up and down.
“No!” she said, looking him straight in the eye.
He quickly stepped forward and grabbed her as she fell back. The seam on the side of her dress ripped as she pulled away.
“Didn’t you ogle enough bodies today, PERVERT?” she said slyly, striking out at him.
Her long sharp nails just grazed his cheek, leaving light scratches. She knew the best defense with him was a good offense. She wished she had not met him that night three weeks before. He did nothing for her, but she had felt compelled to pretend he did. It was disgusting.
“George is picking me up soon, I’ll wait outside.”
She backed away from his reach and out the front door. It was a half-mile walk to their meeting place. She joined the steady stream of other locals walking to the fireworks at Penn State.
“I quit, you Viagra sucker!” she shouted over her rounded shoulder.
Dental technicians were in great demand, especially those who looked like her; she wasn’t worried about work.
George was her only hope for a date now. He was not a big hope though. She felt foolish dressing up for a guy she’d only met two days before. He’ll be there—he has to be. Notwithstanding her looks, she was having more and more trouble developing relationships. After her divorce, she just wasn’t comfortable with the men she knew. She walked briskly up the hill, winding a serpentine course between the mommies and daddies and all the little kiddies. Just five years ago she was working the 4
C'mon people, out of the way. Tonight’s the big night…don’t spend it alone.
Some pre-show rockets shot high into the air. “BOOM-BOOM!” they went, drowning out the children’s shouts.
She saw the hot dog stand. Hungry revelers surrounded it, but George wasn’t among them. Her eyes began to wander across the field of heads and clapping hands. It was still two hours until darkness. She decided to get a hot dog. Her heels were sinking into the ground. She held one hand over the tear in the side of her dress. What a shitty life…!
Mandisa Kameel only needed three things on fireworks night. She had her chase lounge, and two paperbacks, Sacred Sins and Carolina Moon, by Nora Roberts. She picked out the best spot on the grass and immediately lay back, covering her face with one of the paperbacks. Mandisa only read one page at a time. It was her habit of reading a page; then take time to live it, one at a time. She frequently seemed to be living in a dream world. That didn’t stop the stares, however.
“Mandisa,” her husband, visiting lecturer Oonagh Kameel admonished her. “Don’t sit there reading those cheap paperbacks. People will think we are not literate.”
She was already in a world of her own, guided by Nora. “Yes, Oonagh,” she replied unconsciously.
“You are ignoring me,” he said. “I am going to mingle with the faculty.”
“Take your time,” she replied, holding out a long slender finger, as if to point the way for him to leave her alone.
Mandisa was known as Mandy to her few friends. Oonagh Kameel didn’t like the short version. According to him it lacked dignity. No matter what one called her, she always drew stares wherever she went. She was light skinned, of South African decent. She was not large breasted, but had the appearance of a Nile Queen. Her legs and arms were long and agile. She carried herself in a regal manner, which made acquaintances think she was aloof. That was not true. She was very lonely, but her husband was too proud to pay any attention. She would lie upon her lounge and point her eyes at the show in the sky, but she would not be there. She longed to be Mandy.
“Mandisa, are you here?”
“Yes, Oonagh. Go and mingle—be important.” She sounded impatient.
“Oh, you are corrupted, woman. You need to pray more. A teacher of African heritage needs respect. You are not helping by reading those pedestrian novels in public.” He walked away shaking his head.
Mandy didn’t hear him. Frequently she didn’t even read, she just used the book to mask her reverie.
Odd, a black evening dress at a fireworks show…she must have been stood up….
They strolled the white beach in an unplanned search for a private place, a place where she could press against him and feel his hardness against her. The tide was rising and forcing them ever closer to the rock wall that ended the sand. If it continued, they would be trapped in a space too small to move in. They seemed oblivious to the fact, but she saw it. What better way to spend a few hours on a hot summer night? I will wait and watch….
There was a group of people on canvass chairs blocking Mandisa’s view of the hot dog vendor. They seemed to have recently come together, but were friends already. They took pictures and talked incessantly. There were little 6-pack coolers with drinks. Mandisa was observant even in here dreams…oh where have those days gone?
Lynda gave up and took her shoes off. Her makeup was quickly deteriorating in the heat. She wanted to go in the center where it was cooler, but the crowds at the entrances wouldn’t clear until the fireworks started. She wanted to take her pantyhose off too. She ate her hot dog and wiped the mustard from her fingers. She was trying to get the little bit from under her nails when she noticed Mandisa looking at her. She had to do a little sidestep to get a clear view. She stepped into the cool grass and moved around the group between them. She had completely given up on George. She wanted to sit down.
Her pantyhose were becoming like sweatpants. What the hell…. She moved away from the people at the hot dog stand and around the reunion gang and sat down in the grass. She had to hike her dress up to her hips to get down. Without even looking around, she skillfully stripped her hose down to her ankles and off.
Mandisa watched from behind Carolina Moon. She didn’t know why she watched, but it was something she had to do.
The tide did not stop rising, but seemed to slow down to a mere crawl up the white sands toward the waiting cliffs. He had his arm around her now. She felt like a floozy, and she liked it. They moved slowly, closer to the safety of the high rocks.
“Mandisa,” Oonagh, interrupted, rushing up. “Are you coming with me to the president’s barbecue?”
“No,” she replied, “I want to stay here.”
“What will I tell them, that my lovely wife wants to sit in the dirt and read dime novels instead of going to the president’s barbecue?”
“Tell them anything you like, dear. I’m staying here. It is pleasant here, and I needn’t perform for anyone.”
She heard some weak applause from someone nearby. From the direction, she knew it had to be from the pantyhose lady, but she didn’t look.
“Oonagh, I am partying five nights a week here at the university. Please give me an evening to rest here. I promise I won’t become like everyone else.”
While Oonagh turned and left again, she noticed a man walking briskly through the crowd. He was looking at the pantyhose lady, and heading straight for her. He approached her and appeared to be about to strike her.
“What’dya want?” Lynda said defiantly. “Get away from me!”
Everyone nearby turned and looked as the man with the scratches berated her. “Look what you did, Lynda! How am I gonna explain this?”
Lynda looked up with a catlike stare.
Very pretty—but she will lose this battle.
“I don’t care how you explain it to your wife. Is she going to sew my dress for me? Leave me alone now, I’m sitting with my friend.”
“Oh, where is George? I’d like to meet this boyfriend of yours?” He was mocking her as Mandisa watched.
“I dumped him too.”
Lynda’s manner was changing to the defensive. People were watching. They pitied her as she began to cry.
Suddenly! Mandisa was on her feet, and with two strides was within striking distance of the demanding dentist.
“CRACK!”
The sound of anger was heard forty feet away. Mandisa almost knocked him off of his feet. Applause was heard all around the immediate vicinity.“Come, Lynda, sit with me,” she said with authority. She didn’t take her eyes off of the dentist until he wisely turned and walked away.
“BOOM-BOOM!” Pre-show rockets exploded overhead. The crowd applauded loudly as Mandisa took Lynda by the hands and guided her to her chase lounge.
The seagulls sat atop the low cliffs looking down at the couple moving closer to the safety of the rocks. The Sun was getting very low on the horizon as they walked arm in arm. The crashing breakers and squawking gulls were medicine for their frazzled nerves. Their everyday cares seemed to recede farther away with every step and every wave.
“My name is Mandy, Lynda. Sit awhile…we’ll talk.”
“Thanks for helping me out, Mandy, but I could have handled him.”
“I’m sure you could. He already sported some evidence of an encounter with you. I just wanted to get one of my own in.”
They sat on the low chase lounge with their long legs folded over the side. Their knees touched and they were both uneasy. The Sun was getting low, and spectators were selfishly claiming their little plots to sit on. The show would soon be starting. It was billed to be among the top 10 fireworks displays in the country, lasting a full 45 minutes. Mandy and Lynda exchanged small talk, and unconsciously touched their fingers together.
“I feel kind of strange,” Lynda said. “I don’t even care if George shows up or not now. I don’t need him.”
Mandy looked at their legs, they were rubbing together. She became frightened.
“I watched you shed your pantyhose. You did it like an expert.”
She was laughing quietly, trying to deny what she was feeling. This cannot be….
“Mandy, you are so out of place here in the grass. Who are you?”
“Who am I? I am not sure now. I am an African American of high status in a sexless marriage. There is a good chance it is my own fault. Oh, forgive me.” She saw that Lynda was embarrassed. “I am sorry—I never talk about my private life. What’s come over me?”
“My embarrassment is for myself, Mandy. At least you’re still married. I’m going through one-nighters on a weekly basis. It’s just gone, I don’t want to do it anymore.” Their hands clasped together as they spoke. “It will soon be dark. I love the fireworks—I come to it every year. But the excitement is too short. 45 minutes a year isn’t much.”
“Oh, there is my husband again,” Mandy said sadly. Suddenly she perked up; “Let’s take a walk—explore The Bryce Jordan Center, where all the athletes and performers hang out.”
“Great idea,” Lynda replied, slipping her high heels on. “Let’s go.”
“We must find shelter,” he said.
They were standing in salt water as the tide rose around them. They hugged and kissed, but had to hurry to the high rocks. He held her tightly, her wet hair brushed his cheek and they felt the tingle in their nerve endings. They looked up.
“We must climb,” he said.
The giant circular building was clearing of people as they took their places for the show. Mandy and Lynda joined hands and entered through a lower door. Guests were not allowed in this part. It was reserved for athletic teams. There were locker rooms and many other spaces for specialized purposes. It was cavernous and empty, save for Mandy and Lynda, searching for something they could not identify.
“Look up, Mandy,” Lynda said as they entered the main arena.
It was intimidating, awesome in it size. They held each other closer, aware now of what they were about. They felt feelings long dormant, but not dead. They wanted to feel more. There hands wrapped around each other’s until their arms were entwined and they could feel each other’s breathe. Their faces and lips touched.
“Come now,” Mandy whispered, “Back into the locker rooms—someone will see.”
Mandisa was stronger, and stood tall, but Lynda became putty and transformed herself into a part of Mandisa. Her thin straps, already fallen aside, came down smoothly as her dress fell to the floor. They pressed their bodies against one another’s, and ground them together, rubbing and massaging. They pressed their lips together and probed with their tongues. They ground their pubic bones together and held each other’s cheeks, pulling each other firmly in.
In the coach’s office they found a large couch. They lay down together. They used their tongues on each other until they fairly exploded.
“Will we meet again?” Lynda whispered.
“If we choose to, yes,” Mandy replied, giggling. “But 45 minutes a year will not be enough.”
Just outside, above their heads, the crashing and booming reports of the rockets enthralled the audience. The red white and blue flaring streamers caused the children to screech with delight. It was an explosive evening.
The wet rocks were slippery and cold. Mandisa decided not to climb…it was no longer important.
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