Cindy's Close Encounter

I felt a tinge of sadness thinking ahead to next summer, where the Class of 1960 would graduate and go our different ways. It had been such an idyllic childhood growing up in such a nice town with so many friends, all of us going to school, and playing sports together, trips to the beach and the woods, going to summer camp in our younger days and having part time and summer jobs as teenagers.

Next year would be the start of a new decade -- the 1960s -- and towards the end of the year we would have a new President. Who would replace Mr. Eisenhower in the White House? It seemed to be a race in two, between the young incumbent Vice President Richard Nixon and charismatic young Massachusetts senator John F Kennedy.

"So Cindy, are you going to sit in the car all day, or are you going to come inside with us and do something useful?"

Wendy's voice cut into my day-dreaming and I had been so absorbed in my thoughts I hadn't noticed that Wendy had reversed into a spot, stopped the engine and that she and Jo had gotten out, and were standing beside the rear passenger door they had opened.

"Sorry Wendy, I was a million miles away," I said, getting out and going inside towards the gym with Wendy and Jo, other students arriving to help out with setting up for tonight's dance.

In the parking lot were two cars I recognized straight away. One was the old jalopy driven by Ralph in which he had nearly cleaned up Miss Thorpe, and the second was a brown Studebaker parked in the Principal's reserved parking space, obviously belonging to Principal Henry Herbert.

There was no sign of Ralph and company, but we soon heard Principal Robson's voice as he appeared from around a corner with the janitor Claude Clausen. Claude, a tall, African-American man approaching 60, lived in a small caretaker's cottage at the rear of the school. He had been the school janitor for donkey's years, but didn't seem to enjoy his job. He was a bit of an old fuss-pot, moaning and grumbling and complaining about everything, and this morning was talking off the right ear of Principal Herbert, and not about how swell the weather was today.

If Pine View Cove had a celebrity look-alike contest, our high school principal would win it easily as a double for President Dwight Eisenhower. In the main administration block outside the Principal's office there were pictures of all the men who had held the position since the school opened, and the photograph of Mr. Herbert looked like it belonged outside the Oval Office in the White House, rather than a high school in Connecticut.

With his thinning gray hair and his stern appearance, Principal Herbert was a strict and mostly humorless man, and his countenance this morning showed his exasperation as Claude went on and on. He was also dressed in a suit and tie, and one never saw him without such attire. I never had, both in or out of school. Wendy, Jo and I all had part time jobs waitressing at a café in town, and several times in summer Principal Herbert had gone out for lunch or dinner with his wife, wearing his suit, tie and jacket as usual despite the hot and humid weather. I had even seen him dressed like this at the beach on a day when the temperature had gone into the 90s.

Some speculated that Mr. Herbert wore his suits and ties to bed, but given he and his wife had three daughters -- now all adults with kids of their own -- he must have taken off his suit at least three times to go to bed.

Principal Herbert sighed. "Claude, we've been through this before, the four boys are on Saturday detention and will be putting their time to good use by assisting you to clean the windows."

Claude clearly wasn't impressed. "Mr. Herbert, why do I have to watch those slackers? I ain't no teacher, and I sure as hell ain't no babysitter. Last night I had to supervise them cleaning up after the football game, and I catch all four of them in the change-rooms having a goddamn water fight. And they're going to do a lousy job on the windows today and I'll have to do it all again next week, you mark my words."

"Then I suggest you teach them to do it properly Claude," said Principal Herbert.

The janitor snorted in disapproval. "That'll be the day. Kids these days, they don't know how to work, they don't want to work. If my brother and I didn't work when we were kids, our Dad would teach us a lesson with his belt and make us work twice as hard. And where are those four boys anyway?"

"I was just thinking the same thing, Claude," said the Principal, before he turned and saw Ralph, Roger, Simon and Tony approaching. "Speak of the Devil, there they are."

Principal Herbert turned and strode over to the four boys. "Where have you been?"

Ralph smirked. "Would you believe it if we said we were looking for you, Sir?"

"No, I would not Ralph, and lose that smart tone with me," barked Principal Herbert. He glared at Simon, Roger and Tony. "And the three of you can wipe those smirks off your faces too."

The quartet raised their hands to their mouths and literally wiped the smiles off their faces, failing to impress the Principal. "When I was in the army that would be considered dumb insolence and would lead to you being on a disciplinary charge..." He stopped and sniffed. "Have you boys been smoking?"

"No sir, but our parents all smoke, so that's why you can smell cigarette smoke, Sir," Roger asserted.

"And without meaning to be disrespectful, you are a smoker yourself Sir, so you might not be able to smell cigarette smoke," asserted Simon.

Principal Herbert indicated the janitor. "You four clowns know what you have to do. Go and help Mr. Clausen to collect the cleaning supplies and get started. Those windows are not going to clean themselves. Prove to me that you can work to at least some capacity."

Tony laughed and saluted the principal. "Sir, yes Sir!" he shouted, Ralph, Simon and Roger joining the laughter.

As usual, Principal Herbert was not impressed. "If the day ever comes when you are accepted into one of the armed services Mr. Ruggiero, it will be a very sad day for the American military. Now get to work!"

Principal Herbert thundered the last words and went on his way, and the quartet of trouble-making youths went in the opposite direction with Claude, the janitor mumbling and grumbling about the immense personal sufferance he was enduring by having to supervise these lazy boys on Saturday detention washing windows.

For those of us who were here to set up for tonight's Halloween dance, it was a far more pleasant experience. The gym was filled with our friends from the cheer-squad, players from the school's football and basketball teams and from other groups such as the school band.

We soon got busy, and orange and black streamers and balloons were set up, along with decorations similar to those seen in the houses around town. Jack-O-Lantern pumpkins, witches, black cats, Egyptian mummies, spiders, snakes, monsters, dinosaurs, dragons, bats and ghosts were put out on display. Some of the decorations were old and used by the school in Halloween from years past, while others were new and the art students had done a pretty swell job getting them ready in time.

After five minutes or so we had three more helpers -- our boyfriends Steve, Johnny and Phil, who had been delayed as Steve and his friends had been helping an uncle and aunt move some furniture this morning before coming to school.

"Hey Steve," I said, greeting my boyfriend with an embrace, Wendy and Jo doing the same with Johnny and Phil respectively.

"Hey Cindy, it looks good already, I'm really looking forward to seeing your fairy costume tonight," said Steve, running his hand through my long blonde pony-tail.

"Same for me and your handsome Prince costume," I said.

Steve didn't need a Prince costume to look handsome, he was as handsome as any All-American young man could be, an absolute dream-boat. Tall at six feet three with a muscular figure perfect for football, Steve's handsome face sported blue eyes and blonde hair framed his strong manly face. Steve and I had grown up together as friends, which had blossomed into romance as teenagers and we had been going steady for several years now.

While Steve and I shared blonde hair and blue eyes, Wendy and Johnny shared brown hair and brown eyes, and Jo and Phil red hair and green eyes. Like Steve, Johnny and Phil were tall, fit and handsome young men, and stars on the football field too.

Steve, Johnny and Phil were soon helping us to set up tables for the drinks and refreshments to be served this evening, as near the stage two girls who were good at gymnastics put their skills to good use near the stage, climbing up some ropes to affix false spider webs complete with big hairy spiders near the curtains.

"So, your sisters are all having a sleepover tonight?" Wendy asked as we worked putting out the table-cloths and conversation turned to what our younger siblings were doing for Halloween. "That sounds swell. But wasn't the junior high having some sort of Halloween party for the kids tonight?"

"Yeah they were," said Johnny. "But it got cancelled, not enough students interested. Apparently it was too square."

Johnny laughed, and Phil and Steve joined in.

"My sister said she wouldn't be seen dead there, it was a case of be there and be square," said Phil. "Plus a lot of the younger students in junior high would still want to go trick or treating, so it probably wasn't a good idea."

I thought back to this morning. "Talking about junior high students, Billy was acting pretty strange this morning. Well, even stranger than usual."

I went on to describe my younger brother's odd and evasive behavior about his Halloween plans for this evening, and Jo nodded.

"Andy was doing the same thing. Mom, Dad and I were asking what he was doing for Halloween, and he wouldn't really say," she said.

"Same for Richie," said Wendy. "He spun some story about studying with Ralph's younger brother Chris. I mean if he's going to lie, at least come up with a more convincing story."

"You know what I think?" Steve asked. "I think your brothers are at that age where they are just that little bit too old to go trick or treating but deep down they still want to do it and get candy. So they're planning to go out tonight in secret and hope nobody notices them."

"That does kind of make sense," I said, the others agreeing as we continued working, the gymnasium looking pretty neat by now.

About 10 minutes or so later, Wendy, Jo and I all got the call of nature, so headed off to the girls' room in the gym, talking about the night ahead as we sat on our respective toilets in three stalls next to each other. Finishing and flushing, we emerged from our stalls adjusting our panties after pulling them up, and stood washing our hands at the sink.

"One thing, we'll definitely need some more toilet paper for tonight," said Wendy.

"You're right," I said. The girls' gym bathroom contained a dozen toilet cubicles, and while the stalls Wendy, Jo and I had used were in no immediate danger of running out of toilet paper, there was only about half a roll of toilet paper on each holder. Of the other stalls, we could see that two others had a similar stock of paper, three more had just a few sheets and the other three were completely out of toilet paper. With so many girls at the dance tonight, the toilet paper would be gone in less than half an hour.

"Let's see if we can find Mr. Clausen to let him know," said Jo as we exited the girls' room.

It didn't take long for us to find Claude Clausen, in fact we heard him before we saw him as he walked away from his charges as they performed their window cleaning duties at a slow pace and with as little competence as possible, grumbling and grouching and moaning.

"Stupid fat white kid, calling me boy and asking if I liked fried chicken and water melon," he growled. "Other racist skinny white boys laughing, including the wop retard with the slut sister. Why do I have to put up with this shit day after day, week after week, year after year?"

Given the janitor was in such a grouchy mood, Jo and I held back, but the more forward Wendy wasn't intimidated and stepped up to him. "Excuse me, Mr. Clausen, we need some toilet paper," she said.

As the janitor glared at her Wendy clarified. "We need to stock the girls' bathroom before the Halloween dance."

"Come with me," grumbled Claude, leading us to his store-room while complaining non-stop. "Girls at this school are never satisfied, I stock their bathrooms with toilet paper every day and they use all of it, I have to go back and put more in there and they use all that too. Not only that but they put their disgusting time of the month pads in the bins in the stall, and I have to empty the bins and burn the pads in the furnace. Then there's your brothers and boyfriends, who piss all over the floor in their bathroom, and I have to work my ass off mopping it up. And then there's the cafeteria, where more food ends up on the floor and the walls thanks to you kids, I might as well be a laborer at a god-damn pig farm ..."

Claude continued his incessant grumbling as we reached his store-room, which he opened with his large set of keys, before handing us the requested toilet rolls. As Wendy, Jo and I returned to the girls' bathroom, our arms loaded with a dozen toilet rolls each, Claude went on his way again grouching about how the students at this school didn't put their trash in the trash-cans properly and spilled on the floor.

I shook my head and looked at the toilet paper I was carrying, thinking about how old Claude complained about how the girls used all the toilet paper he put in the stalls. Wasn't that kind of the point of toilet paper? And weren't the bins in the girls' bathroom stalls put there for us to use when we were having our monthlies and needed to change our sanitary napkins? Clearly not in Claude's mind.

*

With the gym set up and ready to go tonight, we all went home and I spent my afternoon studying in my bedroom; chemistry, biology and calculus. The bright sunlight filtered through my floral curtains as the clock ticked past noon, but as the afternoon passed the clouds moved in and became darker, clearly the weather forecast on the wireless this morning was accurate and we would get rain later on tonight.

As was usually the case on Saturday night, my maternal grandparents arrived for a visit, Grandma bringing Halloween candy for Billy and me and for any trick or treaters who called tonight. Mom and Grandma got into the Halloween spirit, Mom donning a black cape and Grandma an orange one but Dad and Grandpa didn't bother, and sat watching television in the living room enjoying some cold beers and laughing at Jackie Gleeson's Halloween problems which arose when he failed to give some rude children trick or treating any candy, and they put into action the 'trick' part of the evening.

Going back upstairs, I put on a fresh bra and fresh white panties, and then donned my fairy costume for tonight, a frilly white dress with white wings, white stockings and white shoes on my feet. I affixed my wings to my back, brushed out my pony-tail so my hair was hanging loose, put my crown on my head and collected my wand.

Looking at my reflection in the mirror of my dresser I felt satisfied with how I looked, but then nearly jumped through the ceiling as a black man appeared in the mirror beside me. The shock of the abrupt arrival caused me to fall backwards, my heart racing and nerves racing through my body.

Turning around to look at the new arrival, I felt relief as I realized this wasn't a strange man in our house, but in fact my brother wearing his own Halloween costume of a waistcoat, blazer and striped pants, white gloves on his hands and black shoes on his feet. He had completely covered his face in some black polish, and covered his blonde hair with a curly black wig, on top of which he wore a straw boater hat. In his left hand he carried a walking cane, which Billy twirled around.

"Billy, what in Heaven's name are you doing?" I asked, patting my chest.

My brother was overcome with amusement. "I told you that you'd be surprised by my Halloween costume," he said. "What's wrong Cindy, did I scare you?"

"Yes you did, sneaking up on me like that," I said.

Billy again laughed and pointed in the direction of the bathroom we shared. "The toilet is in there if you need it, Cindy."

"Shut up, Billy," I said. "And what are you supposed to be anyway?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Billy twirled his cane.

"No, not really."

"How about you guess?"

"A golliwog doll?" This was my first thought. My brother looked like one of those creepy black dolls with huge grins stitched their faces.

Billy shook his head. "Wrong?"

"Al Jolson?" I had seen some of his movies as a little girl, and the effect of the shoe polish Billy had applied to his face reminded me of this effect.

Billy adopted a patronizing tone to his voice. "Cindy, I know you're a cheerleader and that Mom, Dad and I have to explain things slowly to you, but come on! What do I look like?"

"Well, you look like you're going to be in a minstrel show," I said. "A really bad minstrel show."

"Close, but not quite," said Billy. "I'm a negro."

"A negro?" I was taken aback. "Billy, you can't just be a negro for Halloween."

"Yes I can," insisted Billy. "I'm not a negro, so it's okay for me to dress up as a negro for Halloween."

I shook my head. "I think we'll have to agree to disagree on this. But I thought you and your friends weren't going trick or treating tonight?"

"We're not," said Billy.

"Like I said this morning, you'd better not be going out to cause trouble," I warned Billy.

"We're not causing trouble," Billy asserted. "We're going out on patrol to prevent trouble for the younger kids going trick or treating."

This was bizarre. "Patrol? What sort of trouble are you trying to stop? Who are you protecting the younger kids from?"

Billy leaned forward and whispered. "Homosexuals."

"Homosexuals?" Things were getting downright peculiar. "One question, what are you talking about?"

Billy sighed, clearly thinking me ignorant. "You're so naïve Cindy. What do homosexuals like to do? They like to abduct kids by offering them candy and taking them away in their cars, never to be seen or heard of again. Halloween is a night where kids go out to collect candy, so there must be lots of homosexuals out and about, hiding in bushes and in the dark evening shadows, waiting to pounce on unsuspecting kids. You know the Pine View Cove orphans who vanished on Halloween night 1939? Who was responsible for that? Homosexuals did it."

"Who told you that?" I asked.

"My buddies and I figured it all out," Billy said confidently. "It's the only explanation that makes sense. Think about it. An orphanage full of retarded, spastic, mongoloid and crippled kids out on a quiet country road in the bush. The retards and mongoloids would be too dumb to run away when the homosexuals turned up to get them, the cripples couldn't run away even if they wanted to, and the spastics are too shit stupid to work out they should run and even if they did, they couldn't anyway. So the homosexuals abducted all the kids, gave them candy to keep them quiet and drove away into the night. Tonight its 20 years to the day, so we think that the homosexuals might come back and try their luck again. And we're going to stop them."

"How do you know so much about homosexuals anyway?" I asked.

"The police came to our school and showed us this film about how evil and dangerous homosexuals are," affirmed Billy. "It starts of slowly when they're kids. You get boys who want to play dolls with girls instead of playing sports like real boys. They get older and these boys who want to do cooking, sewing and typing with the girls instead of woodwork, metalwork and mechanical workshop with the boys in junior high. Some boys even like to secretly dress in their mother or sister's clothes. It's all part of a sickness of their minds, a warning sign that they're homosexuals, and before you know it they're evil and driving around all day and all night looking for kids to abduct."