The Lost Hours with Annabelle

Three of the kids were young boys and they stopped short, their eyes going wide in amazement at how tall Annabelle was. Showing the usual lack of tact in children, one of the boys pointed at her and yelled out, "Hey Mum, Dad -- look at that really tall girl!"

"I think she's come from a circus, or she's walking on stilts," said another boy.

"Mum, how would the tall girl sit on the toilet?" asked the youngest of the brothers, he also pointing at Annabelle.

The mother and father blushed bright red. "Sorry about our boys," they said to Annabelle in passing, before reminding their sons not to point or yell out rude things in public.

I looked at Annabelle's pretty face and could see she wasn't all that pleased. All the way down Swanston Street people had been staring at her, and some young men sitting on the outdoor tables at one of the café bars there had wolf-whistled her tall figure when she passed by.

"Sorry about that, those kids weren't very polite," I said.

"It's okay really, they're just kids, I hear things like that all the time, I'm used to it, it just gets annoying sometimes," said Annabelle.

The man running the boat hire shop was equally surprised to be serving a tall young man with a very beautiful and way taller girlfriend who towered over him, but obviously he was polite and professional, he wanted to make a sale. At least the man seemed to assume we were boyfriend and girlfriend and I didn't correct him on that. I wished Annabelle and I were girlfriend and boyfriend, but obviously we weren't. Still, it was nice to pretend.

We put our lunch and other belongings into the boat and climbed in, me at the front and Annabelle at the back, her long legs extended close to me as we took hold of our oars and pushed away from the bank, rowing up river in an Easterly direction, turning back to look at the Princes Bridge.

Annabelle turned on her transistor radio, turning the dial to the 3QG frequency so we could enjoy the music as we rowed along the Yarra, glancing back at the Princes Bridge as the cheerful sounds of Bobby Rydell were audible in the pleasant sunshine, both Annabelle and commenting that he sounded that he went to a more exciting high school than the one I attended in Melbourne or the one Annabelle attended in Adelaide.

"So that's Government House and the Botanic Gardens," I said, indicating the land marks on the Southern side of the banks as we went under the Swan Street Bridge. "And across there, that's the Melbourne Cricket Ground, the home of the mighty Demons, and Olympic Park." I indicated the MCG and stadium.

"It would have been so exciting living here when they had the Olympics back in '56," said Annabelle as we both rowed along and Bobby Rydell was replaced by Shelley Fabares.

"It was, it was like Melbourne was the center of the universe that year," I said.

"We didn't have a television set at that stage, so we could only listen to it on the radio," said Annabelle. "But even just listening to it, I could feel the atmosphere."

"It's always like that at the MCG for the football and cricket," I said, thinking about how I had been lucky enough to see my football team the Demons win a number of premierships at the ground in the last few years. We continued onwards, making good progress along the river, listening to two Connie Francis songs, respectively about a young lady who has issues with a Roman god and who was looking forward to her summer vacation. Connie certainly seemed to be a favorite of the enthusiastic young male DJ.

"So that's the posh areas of Melbourne," I said, pointing to the southern bank. "Toorak, South Yarra, Prahran and Kooyong." I indicated the northern bank. "And that's Richmond across the way, and Abbotsford. It's not so posh over there." The factories, warehouses and industrial buildings there contrasted with the expensive riverside mansions just across the Yarra.

"I just love Victoria, it's such a beautiful state, you're so lucky living here," said Annabelle. "On the drive across we stopped at Colac, the Twelve Apostles in Port Campbell, drove down the surf coast and Bellarine Peninsula and then Geelong. I had such a great time."

"It is great living here, but I'm sure you have lots of beautiful spots in Adelaide too," I said.

Annabelle nodded. "The parklands around the Torrens are nice and so is the city, then there's the beaches at Glenelg or Henley. The Mount Lofty Ranges are really good, and outside of the city there's Victor Harbor, the Murray River and Kangaroo Island."

Annabelle and I talked about our favorite holiday destinations in our home states, and I most definitely wanted to visit South Australia from what the teenager was saying. Were all South Australian girls as pretty and nice as Annabelle? If so, that was another good reason to visit.

Rounding Herring Island appropriately as the Four Preps were singing about an island -- a much larger island off the California coast than the small island in the Yarra River - the next two songs by Johnny Tillitson and Neil Sedaka seemed to sum up the swell day I was having, and the wonderful feelings of my developing crush on Annabelle. True, the girl of my dreams was sitting behind me in a row boat rather than walking by my side like the young lady from the Johnny Tillitson song. And likewise, Annabelle was not my next door neighbor but visiting from interstate which contrasted from the angelic young woman from Neil Sedaka's song, but both songs could not have been more apt and I felt like I was floating on a cloud. The songs of the magpies from the tall trees on the banks made the day even better.

"So what's this area?" Annabelle asked as we came to a quiet part of the river.

"This is Hawthorn, a very nice area but a bit out of my price range," I laughed.

In this area were lots of private schools and they and the universities had boat sheds in the area. A team of girls from an exclusive girls' college had just finished practicing and were putting away their boats and equipment and heading to the showers. "They're keen, practicing on Easter Saturday, must have a race coming up," I said.

"We sure have rowed a long way," observed Annabelle, looking back to the city.

"We have, such good exercise and I've worked up an appetite even though it's not even 11 yet." I looked at my wrist watch and showed it to Annabelle, the hands at 10.40 am. I looked around, and not far from the girls' boatshed and change rooms was a small jetty, shaded by a large weeping willow tree.

"How about we tie up there for a while?" I suggested.

"That's good with me," Annabelle replied.

We rowed the boat over and tied it up, then moved positions in the boat so we faced each other. I had no problems, but for poor Annabelle it was much trickier, not designed for such a tall young lady. As she moved around, I caught a glimpse up her frock, and saw her white cotton teen panties. It was just for a second, Annabelle soon got her dress in order and it wasn't polite of me to look between her legs and at her knickers, so I glanced at the opposite riverbank.

"Thanks Jim," said Annabelle as I poured her a cup of lemonade from the thermos, then one for myself and we sat in the boat shaded by the willow tree sipping at our drinks. Rowing was thirsty work.

"I can't believe my brother and sister and your brother and sister are studying maths rather than enjoying such a great day," I said.

"I can, it's because they didn't want to be seen out in public with me," said Annabelle. Her pretty face didn't show annoyance, but rather a sad acceptance.

I tried to reassure her. "I'm sure they really did have to study, remember Mum rang Doris's friend's mother to check."

Annabelle shook her head. "No Jim, I saw the way they were looking at me at church yesterday. People were staring at me like I'm a freak, and Chris, Doris and Eddie were so embarrassed. I could see it, that's why they didn't want to be here today, they were ashamed to be seen with me."

"I'm sorry Annabelle, they're just shallow," I said. "And you're not a freak, you're great, I've really enjoyed spending Easter with you. You're one of the nicest people I've ever met."

Annabelle smiled thinly. "You're really nice too Jim, and I'm really enjoying spending time with you, you don't treat me like I'm different even though I am. I'm used to comments, jokes or people staring at me, or even taking photos of me without permission."

"That's so rude, you shouldn't have to put up with that," I said.

"I've only ever known life being tall," said Annabelle. "I was five feet ten by the time I was nine, six feet one by the time I was eleven. I don't complain, there's a lot of advantages to being tall and there's lots of worse things than having an abnormal height, like people who are crippled from accidents, war or polio, or people who are blind or deaf."

"Still, the jokes and comments must get on your nerves at times," I said.

"Most of the time I can laugh it off, like my brother and his friends joking that we have a beanstalk growing in our garden, that Robert Wadlow should be my date for the school dance or that the people from the Adelaide zoo are here looking for a lost giraffe," said Annabelle. "Sometimes teachers make jokes that I'm head and shoulders above the rest of the class, and you've met my Dad, he's always joking around. But sometimes there's kids who can be really hurtful."

"It's awful to get bullied, I can't stand bullies," I said, feeling so sorry for Annabelle.

"I wasn't bullied physically, but some kids weren't nice to me growing up," said Annabelle. "It did hurt though when other kids would exclude me, or they were nasty with no humor in what they were saying. One time, we went for a school trip to Somerton Beach. We were going by the Crippled Children's Home and some of the kids were saying if they can build a home for cripples, spastics and retards to live, why can't they build a home for weird kids, and they can start by putting that circus freak Annabelle in there. For some reason it just got to me that time and I had to keep from dissolving into tears all day. When I was alone in my bedroom later that evening I just broke down and cried and cried."

"Annabelle, I'm so sorry, that's such a terrible thing to say to you," I said.

"No need to apologize Jim, you aren't the one who said it," said Annabelle. She swallowed hard, and said, "Anyway, I'd rather not dwell on it, it's all in the past and I just want to concentrate on having a nice day with you and enjoying the rest of my holiday in Melbourne. I'm glad the others aren't here, it's much better just the two of us."

"Me too, it's nice the two of us having a fun day out together on the river. No parents and no younger siblings."

We heard the announcer on Annabelle's transistor radio say. "And now listeners we travel to Africa with Bert Kaempfert to have a swinging good time on a safari. Hey, if there's any clever guys or girls out there who can tell me the words to this song, get on the phone right now to Radio Station 3QG Melbourne and I'll give you 100 pounds."

The cheerful and catchy instrumental was audible as Annabelle and I looked at each other. I was filled with desire and wanted to lean forward and kiss her so badly, or just hold her hand. The way Annabelle was looking at me, it seemed like she might be receptive. Then again, maybe I was mistaken and such an action would frighten her and ruin a good day.

I couldn't quite get the nerve or think of what to say next, and in the warm morning I strangely found myself falling to sleep. It wasn't long, just that couple of seconds thing that happens if one is struggling to stay awake in the evening or if accidentally falling asleep during a boring class at school.

In any case, I was fully awake when a large drop of water landed on my arm, the Bert Kaempfert instrumental still playing. I opened my eyes and could see similar large rain drops falling into the Yarra from massive black rain clouds in the dark and ominous Melbourne skies. A roll of distant thunder was audible and the warm weather had gone, now a chilly breeze blew along the river.

What?!?!? Feeling utterly confused and disoriented, I stood up causing the boat to rock and looked at Annabelle. Her pretty face showed confusion and apprehension as she surveyed the complete change of weather conditions. Sure, Melbourne was notorious for four seasons in one day, but changing this much in a matter of seconds? It was impossible, at least it should have been impossible.

"Jim, what's going on?" Annabelle asked, her face showing utter puzzlement.

I shook my head. "I don't know. I drifted off for a couple of seconds at most, and here we are."

"The same here," said Annabelle. "I feel really strange, like something isn't right. I've fallen asleep for a few seconds at time before, but nothing like this."

I had never had a feeling as strange as this before, it was just outright peculiar. "Me too. Something just feels very wrong."

Annabelle and I looked nervously at each other. "Yet the song on the radio is still the same as when we fell asleep."

There was soon an explanation for this when the song came to an end and the DJ's voice was audible. A different DJ from the one on earlier. "And that was the great sounds of Bert Kaempfert, and now we go back a couple of years for another great instrumental from Santo and Johnny."

Both Annabelle and I looked at our wrist watches, and showed them to each other, maybe thinking that the other's watch would show a different time, but both were the same but many hours in advance.

"A quarter to four!" I exclaimed. "Just what is going on? No way did we fall asleep five hours, we couldn't have."

"We'd better be getting back, we're so late, our parents will be wondering where we are," said Annabelle.

"Good point," I said. Annabelle and I moved positons in the boat, I untied us from the jetty and we grabbed our oars, setting off at great pace back towards the city. We made good pace, in fact if there was a rowing event for teams of two one guy and one girl then we would have probably qualified for this at the upcoming Perth Empire Games later in the year. While the up-river row in the morning had been pleasant in the warm autumn sunshine, the down-river row in the late afternoon of a day where the weather was turning wet, windy and cold was not nearly so pleasant.

Then there was that strange feeling causing so much apprehension to both of us, it was like we were missing five hours of our lives. It was the strangest feeling, never in my life had a felt that way before. And I could see on Annabelle's face she was just as confused by the disorientation.

Finally, the hard rowing paid off and the Princes Bridge was in sight. The man with the hire boat business was pacing up and down, clearly looking for us.

"I thought you might have stolen my boat," he said as we tied it up to the jetty and collected our things.

"Sorry Sir, we must have lost track of time," I said, paying the man for the extra time we had used before making haste for the bridge.

"We must have fallen asleep and slept five hours," I said. "That's the only explanation." I was aware as I spoke that I was not convincing myself, much less Annabelle.

"That's what I was thinking, but look at this," she said. Annabelle opened the lunch hamper and the sandwiches and fruit we had packed were all gone, and the thermos of lemonade empty. What had happened to it? I'd heard of sleep walking before, but sleep eating?

We had reached St Kilda Road, and fortunately a tram was pulling in at the stop, and Annabelle and I jumped aboard, paying the conductor for our fares. The tram took us along Swanston Street, the large drops of rain turning to persistent rain, and it was very heavy by the time we reached Carlton and got off at our stop.

Fortunately Annabelle had her umbrella, and we sheltered under it as we ran for the car, rain coming down in torrents, lightning in the skies and rolls of thunder. What had happened to the fine Melbourne morning? More to the point, what had happened to about five hours of our day that neither Annabelle nor I could account for?

As soon as I turned on the car's engine, the first song to come on the radio was an Everly Brothers song from several years ago about a girl named Susan who seemed to have some problems with sleeping excessively. It couldn't have been more apt as Annabelle and I made most of the drive home through teeming rain in silence, unable to make any sense of how so much of our day seemed to vanish. It was like we had jumped forward in time.

"My parents are going to be worried about me," said Annabelle as I pulled into the driveway and we got out of the car.

This was true, the two of us were met by four anxious parents as we brought ourselves and our things into the house.

"Annabelle, where have you been?" Mrs. Smith asked.

"Jim, what happened, why are you so late?" Dad asked.

"We were getting worried about you," said Mum.

"Something funny happened on our picnic," said Annabelle.

"Funny? What was so amusing that you were out for hours in the pouring rain?" Mr. Smith wanted to know.

"No, not funny amusing, funny peculiar," I said.

"Well, I think both of you had better come into the kitchen and explain it to us," Dad said.

The six of us went into the kitchen, and Annabelle and I described our day and how we had hired a row boat on the Yarra and after going so well early, we suddenly woke up five hours later with no recollection of the missing time and feeling most disoriented.

Mr. Smith had been looking at me most of the time, the man clearly thinking that I was indeed a rat bag after all. I had been coveting his teenage daughter's vagina since she arrived, and at the first opportunity had corrupted her into becoming a floozy, Annabelle quick to lower her knickers for a boy she only met two days ago.

However, the complete confusion of Annabelle and myself at the missing time and having no explanation for it must have convinced our parents that we hadn't done anything wrong. If we had been up to no good -- such as me driving us to a motel in which Annabelle took off her knickers and made herself available to me and risked becoming a girl in trouble rather than going on a picnic -- then we would have come up with something more convincing. And we would have made sure to be home in plenty of time so as not to arouse suspicion.

With four puzzled parents now accepting our explanation of the strange turn of events on this very peculiar Saturday, Annabelle and I could only speculate on what had happened to us. Our younger siblings however had no doubt how we spent our Saturday afternoon, and I overheard Doris, Eddie and Chris gossiping about just this.

"I think Jim and Annabelle might be one of those couples who 'have' to get married while they're still in high school," said Doris.

"And we're going to be aunts and uncles while we're all still in high school," said Eddie.

"Does Annabelle move to Melbourne, or does Jim move to Adelaide?" Chris asked.

"Imagine how tall our niece or nephew is going to be?" Doris speculated. "Especially if Annabelle has a son rather than a daughter, boys are always taller than their mothers."

The conversation continued between the teenagers, and this time they had an alternate hypothesis for our experience, that Annabelle and I had simply fallen asleep and somehow stayed that way for five hours. Their hypothesis that was because Annabelle was a square, and I was a square too, the two of us together had bored each other into a coma-like sleep that neither of us could remember.

The gossiping had stopped as the trio sat down in the living room that night to watch their favorite TV show, 'The Twilight Zone' and Annabelle and I joined them. The eerie theme music was appropriate and the wet and stormy Melbourne night added to the creepy atmosphere. The episode was about a family who had moved into a new neighborhood and their young daughter made friends with a little girl who lived up the road -- only for the family to find out that the friend in question died a decade earlier.