Hazel and Dan in the Hazy Days of Fall Bk. 01

Hazy says. "Well, Mom, I could not let the boys get away with it, Right? So I fought back by fighting fire with that fire."

We had lit the Bic lighter to light up with when my Sister yelled out from the backdoor. "You fucking prick, you did not put the bedpan back or empty it; she needs it, you shit." A door slams.

I groaned, looking up at you and saying. "Wow, now whose face is red? Hazy, are you mad for me? You see the crap I have to deal with every day? Your mad is the kindest thing ever to happen to me; thank you."

Hazy spit what sounded like a cuss word out, heading toward my back door. "I give her a piece of my foot in her ass, is what. Why? Made to change your Moms bedpan when your Sister is in there."

I reached out to put my hand on your chest to stop you, but I did not think it through. Oh god, I holding your breast. I stop breathing. I meant to prevent you from entering my house wet and mad, but you moaned. I see you like a firm feel on them and squeeze them firmly again.

It's working, Hazy moaned again. "Holly shit Dude OK, I won't kill her today. But after pizza. I'll go change to eat."

I groaned and say. "Yeah, got to change too. I'll see if I get my Sis to do it; needing to change my things due to a water balloon fight. I lost to a better player or at least one who looks hot when wet!"

Hazel says. "Oh man, this was such a great idea. My bike was fixed. I'm sure my plumbing works better, getting out that backed-up clog. We're doing lots more of this, by the way, my man, but we need to prep better; towels and a shower are a must."

I left the shop door propped open it reeked of our sex. I squirted a drop of motor oil on the sweatbands in our clothes; it smells of motor oil now, not so much wild hot sex.

Hazel asked. "Shit, Dan, that smell was me?"

I say. "Well, us, I think, but it is what makes sex great, or so my Aunt told me; if you still like each other's smell after that, you have a good match."

You say. "Dude, was once enough?" Hazel looked hungry; it was the only word that fits.

I say. "Come on, please, we have to go now. If my Mom wets the bed, who has to change the bed sheets? Oh god, Hazel, she makes me bath her and change her clothes...."

My fear of talking about my world is gone. I never thought I would see that. Hazel stops her bike; you put the kickstand down and walk back to me, the sun bouncing off your blond hair giving you more of that Goddess look again. You stop about a foot away, leaning into me.

Hazel says. "Dan, nothing you can tell me would change my feelings about what happened today, not a damn thing."

You held my face in your soft hands; you kissed us; I mean me, I'm not sure how long, But Hazy says. "Go, Baby, hurry up. I'm hungry for lots more of your kisses."

I go into the house to the usual berating from Mom and my Sis. "Why do I have to be the one to bathe and change my mom's things?" I asked my Sister.

My Sister Cheryl blesses her as far as I can throw her says. "Damn, dudes are fucking slow; you have to change, Mom. If I do it silly, that will make us gay."

How do you answer that? Nor do I feel like Hazy will believe me when I tell her, and I will.

Now for the millionth time, I try to forget my Sister and her friend Dorthy munching each other's carpets on the back deck last spring or the dozen or so times both flashed me. Nothing added up, so I changed and closed up the shop. I can still smell you in the air.

It makes me happy, almost aroused, but if I stay, I will be playing, and yes, Hazy was right. Once was not enough.

I close up shop, go to my 1967 Honda cub Ninety, and pick Hazel up. We smoked behind the Kroger. I told Hazy about the bedpans or baths. I was right; you did not believe me.

Scooting over to the Pizza shop on my Honda Hazy has fun holding on to my fun parts. Getting us there It has all her friends at one table, and her friends come out to bring her in. Getting off the ride she goes into her friend's all smiles. I am parking my scooter and locking it up. I see Hazy with her friends; there's no spot left to sit.

Hazel looks up and looks around and sees me outside; she looks at my face through the glass, and she glances at her friends. Then, finally, you stood, flipping your hair out of your face, and walked back toward the door.

I fell in love that second I did not stand a chance again after that. I will never be able to say no to you; you came out and kissed me. Then, when my brain reconnected, I heard you talking.

I say. "You're right; once is not enough, but the shop still smells of us, Hazy; this will take lots more planning."

Hazy wraps her arm around my waist, and her friends think she is nerd slumming.

Mae was there and says. "Good for them both. I wish my man looked at me like I was a four-course steak dinner; you notice she looks hungry too, don't believe me; ask your Moms."

Well, being a photo geek on the school newspaper and the yearbook rather than a jock meant without Hazy's arm, I would unlikely be sitting with the 'A' crowd. I might be taking their photo but sitting with nope.

The school's jocks walk in crap. Scott's there. I'm sure he heard about spin the bottle from his so called friends.

I asked. "Mae, you talk to Scott about..." The Son of a gun hits me on the top of my head. I have been swinging an eight-pound sledgehammer making garden tools or knives for my stress relief for years.

As Scott swung again at me, I grabbed his arm mid-swing, twisting his wrist; we all heard things cracking as he screamed in pain. Then, one of his friends jumped me from behind. I stood up, the guy still on me. I hold my arm out, protecting Hazel and the rest of the table. I kind of laughed as I tossed him off my back one handed. I could throw his ass further than I hoped to fling my Sister.

But when a hundred-fifty-pound guy gets tossed a few feet into a wall, Scott's friends think twice about further action. One dumb-ass who ran at me from behind, Hazy, tripped his ass and bounced off me. I again laughed; working in a blacksmith's shop had made me much tougher than I thought I was.

Well, one last brave heart, you know, the kind that dyes their face the team colors and found out later the dye packs they got were not Easter egg temp dye but fabric dye. It was months before that crap faded away. I still feel bad about selling him that; well, not really. I did not feel guilty.

He grabbed me by my shirt to flip me like in the martial arts movies. Unfortunately, my nice Rolling Stones Tee shirt was not up to the challenge; it was shredded. I pushed the kid into the wall he bounced off hard.

Without thinking, I turn to the table and say. "Sorry, Mae, I did not mean to hurt Scott. So those are the best our school has to offer?"

The owner came out yelling at me. "I started it, and the Police were called."

Hazy says. "We got you, baby; they hit him first; you need to cool your heels, old man, or were going to other places the whole school; how long do you think you stay open after we stop coming?"

Well, it got messy, but the girls all spoke up for me, and we were over an hour and a half later than curfew getting home on a school night. Trust me, I've heard of boys being shot for this.

Stopping at the shop first, I put on a flannel shirt we went to tell your folks what had happened. I was unsure if they believed me, but they seemed happy. I told them why we were late rather than dropping Hazel off and running.

On our way to school the next day, Hazy on the back of my scooter says. "Her folks talked about me at breakfast. She said a dinner invite with her folks was offered. That's a first."

As we left school later that day, we hit the books at Hazel's at their kitchen table. Hazel's Mom noticed the bite mark on my neck as she checked her Baby for marks finding none she left.

Hazel says. "Not to sound too weird, Dan, but my Mom and I talk a lot about everything. I mean everything."

I was worried about what that might mean as we went to dinner. Eating Soup with vegetables, together with hot bread at the Soup and salad place and a movie the next day, and we talked about dinner at the folk's home coming up.

We road on our fourth day together, going to school on my scooter; Hazel jumps off to see her friends. Hands me her helmet. I locked up the Honda and clipped the helmets to their hooks on my scooter seat as I locked it on the rack.

I saw the world move slowly out of the corner of my eye. I ran, but you were too far away. I had no hope of getting there in time.

The kid Hazel tripped, came up to you and hit you in the knee with a crowbar. He saw me turn white and ran before I got there. I had no thought other than Hazy; you were in pain. You screamed, laying on the ground with blood from your knee, wetting your jeans. I picked you up. I see Mae drive up in the parking lot in her cute little Volkswagen Karmann Ghia convertible.

It would take too long to get the Honda cub unlocked. So I open Mae's car door, putting us into the seat. "Hospital now, Mae Please Hazy is hurt bad."

We were there in under fifteen minutes. I speak softly the whole way there. I was calm. I had seen blood before, and this was not a plate glass window or my cousin's split-open arm kind of blood.

I held you to me, you're not bleeding too bad, but the knee cap your Cheerleader days are in question. I'm calm as I hold my hand out to Mae. "Slow down or find a cop, Mae; we need calm, Hon."

I spoke to you calmly; also, we slowed down some. Then, finally, Mae's face lost its panicked look; you stopped at a light it was safe, and you ran a red light.

I say. "This is a bump in the road, Hazel, but you got me now; you are not alone. I see your folks' love for you; we will get you through this, Baby. So hang on to me, Baby; I've got your back." I kissed your head, held you tighter, and discussed things we would do.

Hazel is holding my neck in a death grip but my words of. "Breath, I got you, Baby, OK Baby. I will call your folks as soon as we get there. We have not danced yet, damn it, we will. I won't let you go unless you want me to, ever; I have you're back, dear, Baby; we have each other now."

I kissed your head again; you held my face, and you say. "It's less scary in your arms, Baby, But it hurts so much." Hazel cried.

I say. "We are there soon; hang in there, sexy." I start rubbing your temples; it calms you.

Pulling into the Emergency Room, I say. "Mae, if you need to get back to school, it's fine, but I not leaving her. Thank you, dear."

Not leaving her side did not mean being in the same room, but I carried her in and say. "Where do I put her?"

I spoke out louder but calmly. "Somebody slapped her with a piece of iron; please help her; Hazel is in pain."

I was shown where to place you right on the table.

I laid you down, your hand locked onto mine. "He stays with me, or I screaming my bloody head off," Hazel says, groaning through the pain.

A tall nurse says. "Sorry, your man has to wait outside. That's the rules, Hon. I will say this though, young lady, it looks like he waits till hell freezes over for you if you ask him to, and you have to ask him, dear."

Hazel looks up at me and says. "Kiss me before you go, Baby, please. Will you wait? I'm not as scared if I know you're here?"

I say. "Yes, I will wait, Hazel, till hell freezes."

I do kiss you, the Doctor says. "Well, her lips work; you must go now, son."

I went to find a pay phone and called her house. I got her Mom. "Mrs. Campbell, It's Dan from next door; some prick busted Hazy knee bad were at the hospital now the Doctors are with her. I'm sorry I let the bastard get away. I took Hazel to the hospital with Mae rather than chase him. I take care of that Son of a..., excuse me after you get here."

I waited for twenty long minutes till Hazel's folks got there; the Doctors' news was not good, but she needed surgery now; the fact she got here so quickly was good.

The Doctor came out saying. "The family can come back, but only after you, Dan? I'll take you back first, and you two can join him in ten minutes. Hazel needed to run for office; she negotiated to see him first. She said you two would understand. Dan, come this way, please."

You had a green hair net on, looking scared to go under the knife.

Hazel says. "Hold me, please, till they ask you to leave."

I do as you asked her Mom and Dad come in, stopping, seeing us both; they hold hands and walk over to the other side of the gurney. They both have her other hand; my head is next to yours. I see them nodding my head, but I promise to hold her, and that's what going to happen.

They came for her for surgery, Hazel says. "He picked me up, Mom, like I weigh nothing; he got me here. He kept kissing me on my head Dad and talking softly, telling me it would be alright just like you did, Dad. Mom, because of him, I am not scared. Promise me Dan will be here when I wake Dad; make sure he's on the visitor's list, please, Dad."

She was asked to count down from twenty as they injected her and wheeled her out before she hit fourteen out like a light.

I asked. "I need a ride back to school, please I got to find that Son of a Hor, err, that prick, and talk to him hard. Can you please take me back to school, Sir?"

Bob Hazel's Dad says. "No, sir Hazy would kill us if we let you do that. She wants to see your face when she wakes; you promised her Son."

The next thing I learned was that even rich hospitals how bad hospital coffee could be or how hard the chairs were. The police were called. I gave my report naming the prick. I thought twice about holding back his name till we could talk fist to face but did not; the last talk like that cost me a hundred hours of community service, but it would be worth it.

I let her folks talk about her; there were dozen charming stories. Then, from her doing finger paints in the hall, they put a frame around one and repainted the rest of the wall.

I felt warmth hearing them, but there were no stories of me that were cute.

They let us back in the recovery room, Hazel all hooked up with wires and asleep like an angel. I did have a funny one about my Dirt bicycle days. I lowered my voice as we stood near the bed; you were still out, but they brought in two chairs and wanted me to leave. So Bob Hazel's Dad went talking to whoever, but the result was I got to stay.

I wanted them to stop feeling so nervous and begin my tale.

I say. "Dirt bikes did not exist in the poor parts of Houston yet. We used street bikes; mine was a Schwinn Fatboy bicycle my Dad and I rebuilt. My friends and I would go every day after school and, most of all, on Saturdays to a place eight miles from my house. It was off Mykawa Rd. It was the Harris County Prison Farm, also known as the P-Farm."

"There was a creek near the edge of the farm outside of the fence. We spend weeks digging curves in the side of the small hills building earthen ramps for jumps. For some older kids with early off-road motorcycles, the Honda Trail 90 was one, as was a cool Harley Davidson dirt-bikes. The guys loved what we were doing, so they brought buckets. We watered down all the turns and ramps. The guys with the dirt bikes packed the earth down, making it one hell of a ride on a pedal bike."

"There was one ramp that jumped the creek a good fourteen feet away, and unless you could hit over twenty-five mph, you would splat into the side of the hill, falling back in the water. No one could ever do it on boy power alone; we built a longer downhill run up to the ramp giving you a shot jumping the creek. So working on my legs at my friend Billy's home gym for two weeks while the rains went away, and it was time to do this! Bright one Saturday morning, a few of us 'dirt bike kids' pedal our way talking about how high we would jump!"

"We drew straws that day; one kid was all safety first; OK, that was me. I brought a football helmet. I won. I get to go first! Running in place to warm up with stretching and testing for the wind. It was at my back perfect, so I took a spin up to the ramp; we made a bailout turn that went down and came back up on the same side of the creek; if you chicken out, you could go around again."

"I passed on my first run thinking I could do it faster but making the turn back to the ramp, I had not noticed that the wind was picking up speed and had changed the direction it was coming from."

"Giving every ounce of speed I could make on my bike, I headed up the ramp and shot off the ramp. I felt a gust of wind hit me in the face as the wind seemed to hold me in place. Then, I see the middle of the hill rushing up to meet me. My bike hit like a ton of bricks, trashing my bike into a pretzel. When I came to sit on my bike in the creek, my friends kept my head above water. The bikes dug in good to the bottom mud; my friends pull me up on dry land and pull out my bent ride."

"I give Billy my helmet he says. "Naw, that shit slowed you down, and you won't wear it."

He runs up to the ramp, checks the wind, does two spins around the track going for it, and makes it. Now the wind was in his favor, not mine. Mine was Gone with the Schwinn!"

Two groans are heard. Jean laughed says. "Bob, that's bad enough to be one of yours."

Bob says. "Kids got mad skills; I give him that. That one would be good at the Petroleum Club."

Hours go by I sit on the floor, finely falling asleep. I hear voices. I awoke rubbing my eyes and heard this.

"God! Mom, oh, Mom! god, Dan's not here?" Hazel cried out. You could hear the panic in your voice.

Jean says. "Oh honey, we've all been here for hours. Dan was asleep on the floor, Baby."

I stand, and our eyes meet. I walk over and say. "I going to have to figure out how to buy a car sooner; no way you're riding on the back of my scooter in that damn brace, sexy."

Hazel asked. "Mom, what did the doctor say about my Cheerleading?"

"You're fine, Hon; you be up dancing by Prom," Mom answered quickly.

Hazel asked. "Mom, do you want me to ask Dan that same question?"

Jean says. "No, Dear, he said lots of hard work; in six weeks, after your heal from a few months of Physical Therapy, you might walk without a limp again."

I promised. "I'll work your butt off getting you to walk and dance with me by Prom, but it's on you if you Cheer again."

Hazel says. "Mom, oddly enough, I'm not scared because I have Dan's arms keeping me safe. But, Mom, can we have a second I got something to give my new man."

I say. "You mean this?"

I lean over you; it's like our first kiss again, I say. "I'm not ashamed kissing you," I say as we hold hands.

Jean Hazel's Mom says. "Dan, I never thought I witnessed my Baby getting her first kiss, but we will have dinner soon. We need to get a few things first a wheelchair and a ramp. Without it, I don't know how to get her up the front porch stairs."

I say. "I can build a ramp for Hazel. I know how to make a few things like hold-on bars to get up off the can, out of the tub, and one to get out of bed with. I made them for my cousin; she had Polio."

As I smile, looking over at Hazel's Mom and moving my head back into Hazel's eyes, I wink at you and look again at your Mom.

Hazel says. "Mom, Dan is on me to tell the truth, this kiss was like our first, but it was as nice and loving as that was, but it was four days ago now. Mom, how did you and Dad know? I mean, know well, you know?"

I heard Dan, not Dad; working in a shop has hurt my hearing, so I answered. "When? It was when you came out and brought me in with you when there were no seats for me getting pizza on our first date."

"Never mind, Mom, I have all the answers I'll ever need. Can I have some tissues, please I got some cute guy in my eyes."