A Summer in Time

Chapter VII: "The Last Hurrah"

A SUMMER IN TIME by Norman H. Goroshnik
CHAPTER VII: "THE LAST HURRAH"

With the Labor Day weekend coming up, it was the beginning of the "Last Hurrah" of summer. Here it was, Thursday morning already.  Where is the week going?

Parties will be going on all over Cape Cod.  Even though there is some sadness.  It's a little depressing having to say good-bye to newly made friends.  Not knowing if and when people will meet again.  Also a deserved vacation for many ends way too soon.  But hopefully it was a happy time, enjoying the sights and sounds of Cape Cod.  Taking great pictures.

But the worst part is lovers having to take leave of one another.

Back to the cities, towns, trains and planes!  Down on the farm!  Back to the stress!  Whatever!The year-round residents were fortunate enough to be able to live on Cape Cod. 

Paul and David returned to your cottage.  Paul stood by watching you hang out your clothes to dry.  The clothes basket was full as you prepared to do some packing.  Afterwards, you walked back toward the cottage door with Paul at your heels.

"Did you eat anything?" you asked.  "I will make you something to eat," you suggested,  sounding supportive.

"Thanks, Blair, that would be great," Paul answered, very much pleased.

Sheila caught your attention for the moment as she also came into the kitchen.  You wondered what Sheila's feelings were concerning your relationship with Paul since you hadn't even mentioned it or discussed it.  Perhaps she was waiting until you brought it up, or was watching to see how things would work out.  She always sided with your parents on everything.  Never one to unfairly criticize or show much anger.  She was more liberal.

It was obvious that Paul liked to stand next to you.  One foot over the other, he was relaxed and comfortable in that position.

After, everyone played house at the cottage and when the chores were done it was time to head to the beach.

After arriving at the beach, you eagerly prepared to follow Paul into the water, arranging your bathing cap before diving in.  You had been thinking about a secret you'd kept rather well, a secret that involved Paul.  You didn't realize how difficult this would be for you or for Paul.  But now was a good time to tell him. 

As you and Paul stood facing each other, drying yourselves with a beach towel you nervously said, "Paul, can we talk for a minute?" 

"Sure," he replied, looking directly into your face.

"I won't be able to be with you most of the weekend"

"Why not?" Paul asked in a sterner voice, his New York accent more pronounced.

"I had a prearranged date with a friend of mine from Providence. He should be arriving some time later. We made plans to see each other this weekend. I've known him a long time." You stated the facts plainly, not knowing any other way to bring it up.

You had become the spoiler! Boy, did you drop a bomb! And just when things were going so well.  Surely this caught Paul off guard, only adding to his frustration.  He tried to process what he just heard, tried to figure out where this left him.

Motionless, you held your head low, unable to look directly at Paul.  He tried hard to conceal his disappointment.  "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Are you mad at me?' you asked.  "I am not mad, do I sound mad?" Paul asked.  "Yes, you do!" you exclaimed, almost letting out a sharp scream.

Paul picked up his army bag and started toward the lifeguard stand, retreating without a word.  Marching himself off the beach.

"Where are you going?" you asked, watching him walk away from you.  Flabbergasted,  stunned, you broke into a run.  Climbing up the elevated beach you chased after Paul without your shoes.  That was not like you at all!

"Paul! Paul! Why are you behaving like this?" you called out to him.

"I don't know what you mean," Paul replied, still walking  away with his back to you.

"Paul, are you going to answer me?" you yelled out to him.

"What do you want me to say?"  he answered over his shoulder, with disappointment in his voice.  Paul stopped long enough to let a car leave the beach parking lot.  His stopping allowed you to catch up to him.  You both stood on the right side of the roadway, facing north.

He had to bend down to place his hands on his knees for support. The tension was painful to him.  In a matter of minutes, Paul was battered and worn, lost and defeated.  The picture of you in his mind was shattered.

The Plymouth pulled up along side of you both, Sheila had enlisted David's help.

"Get in here you two!" Sheila yelled out of the car window.  "Do you hear me?"

Paul tried to control himself the best he could.  By now he had caused a major disturbance, although not exactly a crime scene.

He climbed into David's car. Then you got in, your face close to his, searching for understanding and forgiveness.

Sheila was puzzled. The tension in the car was altogether embarrassing.

Sheila signaled David, letting him know what to do.  He turned into traffic, heading back to the cottage.

There were cars of all makes and models at the cottage, parked on the street and in the driveway.  Some were almost on the lawn.  Unfamiliar "Guys and Gals" coming and going.  It looked like a party was in progress at the cottage.

You quickly left the Plymouth, without so much as a word or a gesture.  You all but raced towards the screen door and up to your room.  The air in the room only added to your discomfort.  It had been closed up since you left for the beach. 

The whole matter was out of control!  Realizing you could not stay in there, you darted, past the people in the living room, out through the screen door, searching the crowd for Paul.

You found him just where you left him. With one good yank you pulled him as far away from the crowd as possible so as not to be over heard.  Paul did nothing to resist.

"Paul, I want to know what the devil is going on with you," you demanded, your head turning from side to side, in agony, agitated in every which way.

"I don't know Blair," came Paul's response.  He was unable to respond differently.

You were being aggressive now, "Well stop acting this way!  I should have told you sooner, but I forgot about my date with my friend.  How was I to know it would come to this?"  Your voice cracked as you tried to justify your position.

It was an uncalled for confrontation. A tense moment.  The voices from the lawn vanished as if you two were the only ones there.  At least it seemed that way.

Tears filled your eyes.  It hurt you as much as it seemed to hurt him.  "Paul, I don't want you to be mad at me.  Do you always act like this?"

"Come over here!  I don't understand you. I don't know what to say! What do you want me to do?"  Adding to his torment, as well as your frustration also!

Paul stood pondering, aggravated, uncomfortable, torn apart, behaving badly.  He tried making a correction by lowering his tone, "We should not be talking to each other like this.  I am sorry."

"Paul, you are taking this much too seriously," you fired back at him.  "Maybe we should not talk to each other at all," you exclaimed, making a heated point.

"Blair, let's not say anymore,"  came Paul's response.

"I did not mean to hurt you, Paul," taking a much needed breath, "I won't see him!"  The tears grew stronger.  Desperately you tried to stop crying, "that is final!"   

Paul had to reach out to you, he could not bear to see you in so much pain.

"Leave me alone!" you shouted, pushing Paul away.  But Paul drew you to him, suffering as he waited for you to stop struggling.  Not wanting to separate from you and risk losing what he wanted the most.

Then Paul released you.  He turned away helplessly, dragging down the road, alone.  All you could do was  stand and watch Paul disappear in the distance. That had to feel like the end of it all.

Paul went straight to his room and dropped down on his bed trying to regain composure.  He got up to shower, hoping to cool  his emotions as well as his body. Twisting and turning on his bed did not help matters.  He lie there listening to the wind as it grew stronger outside.  Paul did not know which way to go.  The room felt like it was closing in on him.  It was getting dark earlier.  Fall had arrived.

Paul remained stretched out on his bed, hatching a plan to resolve the riff between you. The more he thought about it, the more painful it became.

The shutters banged in the wind driving him crazy.  He had hoped David would come looking for him and he would have someone to talk to, but David never came.  Time moved very slowly--too slow for Paul.  He could not tolerate it any longer.  He had to do something.

So, down the stairs he flew, out the door, running straight into the wind.   He could have been blown over in the strong wind as he raced up the road toward your cottage.  The road was desolate as he ran, gusts of wind tearing into his body.  Boats anchored on Nantucket Sound rocked from side to side.

Paul ran as if his whole life depended on it.  By then his feet felt like logs and he was barely able to gain momentum.  Paul looked like he had been running for days.

Finally he reached the lawn of the cottage, out of breath.  The porch light was a sign of relief.  He pushed through the front door into the living room and dropped into a straight chair.  Paul ignored the other people in the room.  He was unable to speak or look anyone in the eye.

Low and behold!  You came from your bedroom.  The sight of Paul frightened you.  The staircase suddenly felt unsafe.  You held on tigh to the banister, slowly descending the stairs.

Paul got up and dragged himself over to you.  "Blair, can we go outside to talk?" he asked.  His chest was going up and down.

"What about?" you answered him with an icy stare.  "Please, Blair.  I need to talk to you,"  he begged, making himself very vulnerable.

Not wanting to cause anymore embarrassment for either of you, you agreed to go outside with him, avoiding his eyes.

 "Can we be friends?" you asked, standing with Paul in what felt like a wind tunnel.

"Don't ever ask me to be your friend!" If he wasn't mad before, he surely was mad now.

"Let me say something to you. I am sorry I caused you all this pain. You don't understand how I feel.  I had hopes for us.  Can't you tell I care for you?  I expected too much.  I look at you and see someone special," he desperately tried to make you hear what he had to say.

Paul turned around and melted into the darkness.

"Paul!  Where are you going?  Where are you?" you called out.  The wind was having its way.

Coming soon--CHAPTER VIII
It takes patience, perseverance and dedication to develop a great relationship.  Much to often, couples are too eager to give up too easily. There are more chapters filled with promise, anticipation, and suspense.  I hope you can enjoy this story as much as I  enjoyed writing it.

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