Chapter August 3rd, 1968

Today mother sent me on an errand to buy bread, milk, sugar and butter.

As Pop’s have all these items in stock, I had convinced her to include alime-flavored milkshake on the grocery list.

She had answered, as she had been doing ever since that fateful day thatI returned to the past, “Fine, but just a small one. Don’t forget what happenedthe last time you had a large!”

“How can I? You’re forever reminding me!”

“Don’t be giving me any sass, young man, or you won’t get one at all!”

“Sorry, ma.”

“Off you go! And don’t spend all day looking at the comic books! I don’twant melted butter!”

“Okay, ma!”

I was halfway through my milkshake when an automobile screeched to a haltoutside by the curb. I recognized it immediately.

It was Frankie Hollywood’s beaten up old Chevy.

The fact that he had a set of wheels under his arse was the main reasonhis shares were high with the young male population, but even more so with thegullible, swooning female element that traversed the movie theaters, sodashops, high schools and The Strip (Although it was officially named ChurchStreet, the main street through the centre of town was better known to theyounger generation as The Strip.) of Sedgefield.

He and his two misfit pals fellout of the car and proceeded to lean against the side of it while lighting up asingle Lucky Strike that they then passed around between the three of them.

The sight was painfully pathetic as they did their utmost to behave ascool as possible, winking at girls of any shape, size or age that happened topass by on the sidewalk.

I almost felt the urge to throw upthe small milkshake.

I grabbed the bag of groceries next to me and decided to clear off home.

“Hey, little Crane!” exclaimed Frankie as I passed them. “Me and my goonshave been cruising The Strip for a little action. It’s been a kinda dullmorning so far. So, when’s Hannah gonna be babysitting you and your littlesister again?”

“Frankie Numbnuts! How the shit should I know? Besides, you seem to knowHannah’s work schedule better than anyone else in this town. By the way, haveyou molested any school kids lately, big guy? How’s it hanging, arsehole?Caught any venereal infections yet? No? What a goddamned crying shame? But…keepwatching this space.”

He was stunned speechless for a moment. “That’s…some serious vocalaboryyou got there, little guy. Your momma know you…”

“The word is vocabulary. Repeat after me slowly - vo...ca...bu…la…ry!”

“Sheesh! Who rattled your bloody cage?”

“Only one around here that belongs in a cage is you.”

“You need to cool down, hot rod. I was just trying to be friendly.”

“Yeah, I know. You should get the Sedgefield award for FriendliestPhallus!”

“Damn right! Ain’t a person in this town that don’t love dear ol’ FrankieHollywood.” He ran a hand across the air in front of him. “One day when myname’s up on that big screen, they’ll all be saying, ‘We once knew that guypersonally. He was a great guy even back then already!’”

“They don’t know you like I do. I’m betting you’ll never leaveSedgefield. And the closest you’ll get to having your name up in lights willbe…” I ran my hand across the air. “Frankie Hollywood’s Used Car Dealership!”

His cheeks reddened as his two pals were unable to conceal their mirth.“For a little kid, you got a damn big mouth. Think you’re a tough guy, hey.Wanna play with some real men?” He held out the cigarette towards me. “Take adrag? Come on; show us what you’re really made of?”

“No thanks!”

“He walks like a man, but he talks like a chicken. Come on? Just onepull? It’ll put hair on your chest!”

“Great! Then I’ll end up looking like a greaseball-gorilla like you.”

Again he blushed at his friends’ laughter, only this time he quelled hisfrustration by slapping the back of my head. “I’m trying to make a man outtayou, and you just keep sassing me!” He quickly rubbed my head then held out hishand, “Sorry about that, sport. Come on! Shake? No hard feelings?”

“Sure,” I said shaking his hand. “Don’t worry, Frankie, you still got myvote for Friendliest Phallus!”

“Attaboy!” After a short deliberation he said, “Listen, me and my twogoons here are gonna have a couple of sodas and check out any talent that mightbe inside – if you get my drift?”

“Loud and clear!”

“Good! You’re a bright kid! Although you shouldn’t concern yourself withthose sort of matters at your age. Although I had my first screw at fourteenalready. For Sedgefield that’s a goddamned record – and proud of it too.” Hepulled a comb out of his sock and fixed his hair before asking, “How’d you liketo make a little pocket money?”

“Doing what?”

He patted his car’s bonnet. “Bessie here don’t like to be left alone. Youkeep an eye on her while we go keep an eye on the talent inside, and I’ll giveyou the price of a soda.”

“How long you gonna be?”

“Twenty minutes tops!”

“Deal, but I got a brick of butter here that could start melting. Youtake longer than twenty, I start charging overtime!”

“Deal!” We shook hands and he looked at the entrance to Pop’s. “Ladies,fasten your seatbelts – Frankie Hollywood is about to enter the building!”

It was almost an hour later when they exited again. Frankie wasunwrapping a pack of gum.

I held out an open hand. “You owe me the price of three sodas, thank youvery much!”

He gave me the price of one sodaand a stick of gum. “Here, go chew on that. Now move along and stop botheringthe men, kiddo. Right now, me and my goons got some more cruising to do on TheStrip. Hurry home now before your momma’s butter melts, okay?”

They all laughed as they sped away with a screech of tires.

I smiled as they disappeared over the rise.

By next week, Frankie and the boys would have to cruise The Strip onbicycles.

I gazed down at the money in my hand. It would be just enough to buyanother packet of sugar. The other one had somehow found its way into Bessie’sgas tank.

In the future, the more sophisticated fuel filtration systems might beable to prevent any serious engine damage, but we’re still back here in theDark Ages. There was no way Bessie was ever gonna cruise The Strip again. Andwith Frankie’s status symbol rusting in the junkyard, his sway on theSedgefield prey would be dramatically decreased. I hurried into Pop’s.

By the time I exited again, the butter had started to soften! I ran allthe way back home, but I didn’t mind at all; it felt as though I was doing a victorylap!!!