Wednesday, October 11, 2017

THIS NOVEL SHOULD HAVE STAYED IN THE FILING CABINET!



When I was in junior high, I used to spend my summer days sitting out on the front steps of the tenement building where I lived. There, with a well-sharpened pencil, I would scribble my masterpieces (my novels-in-progress) on notebook paper, usually a chapter per day.  And at the end of each day, a group of neighborhood kids would gather to eagerly listen as I read my latest installment to them.  I loved to write, and even more, I loved to see my audience’s reaction when I read my creations out loud.

The other night, I was searching for something in one of my old file cabinets when I came across several of my aforementioned junior-high novels.  One in particular, “Babies in Black” (I “borrowed” the title  from Baby’s in Black, which was a popular Beatles song at that time), was written when I was older, nearly 15.  Curious, I sat down and read it from cover to cover.

I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time.

The novel centered around the lives of three beautiful women in their early 20s: Shelly, Sue and Sybil.  They were best friends, inseparable, and each had an incredibly handsome, wealthy boyfriend.  Unfortunately, these wealthy boyfriends, on their way to meet Shelly, Sue and Sybil for a triple date one night, were killed in a terrible car crash.  The girls vowed to wear nothing but black from then on, as a tribute to the memory of their lost loves (and as a way for me to justify the title, “Babies in Black”).

I thought it might be fun to print an excerpt from this book exactly as I wrote it back in the 1960s - corny dialogue, bad grammar, bad spelling and all.

OK, now to set up the scene:  One year has passed since the deaths of the boyfriends of our three heroines, Shelly, Sue and Sybil.  The girls decide to ease the pain of the anniversary of the tragedy by taking a “fun” trip to London (the “hip” place to be back in the early ‘60s).  There, they meet three seemingly nice, leather-clad, English chaps named Steve, Dave and Mack, who invite them out on dates. 

Unbeknownst to the girls, however, these “nice” guys actually are part of a notorious British motorcycle gang!

The chapter begins as Sue, on the back of Steve Blackwell’s motorcycle, is the first of the three girls to arrive at an ominous-looking beach called “Black Cove.”  She still is blissfully unaware that Steve not only is a member of a motorcycle gang, he’s also (insert a shocked gasp here) their leader!  (Remember, I am printing this exactly as I wrote it at age 14-and-a-half.  No editing!).

BABIES IN BLACK - CHAPTER 5

After a long cold ride that seemed to take hours, Sue and Steve finally arrived at a rocky deserted seacoast area. “Well, here we are,” Steve said as he helped Sue off the back of his motorcycle.

Sue rubbed her back as she attempted to straighten her legs out.  She moaned. “God, I feel like I’m permanently bowlegged!”

“You’ll get over it,” Steve said, slipping his arm around her shoulder.

“That was some ride!” Sue commented. “Not only was I scared half to death, you guys drive on the wrong side of the road here!”  She eyed her surroundings a little uneasily. “So what do we do now?”

“There’s a party on the beach down around the bend,” Steve said. “We’ll leave the bike up here and hike over the rocks.”

Sue’s eyes displayed doubt. “Shouldn’t we wait for Shelly and Sybil and your friends to get here?”

“Nah, they’ll catch up!” Steve took her hand and led her over the jagged rocks.  He held her hand tightly, guiding her just as a perfect English gentleman would.  Soon, laughter and loud music could be heard above the crash of the waves.  The ocean breeze was cold and made Sue shiver from head to foot.

“Hey, Steve!” a voice called out as he and Sue approached. “You’re late!”

Steve laughed and pulled Sue over to the crowd of approximately 50 people, mostly males, sitting on raggedy blankets on the shore and drinking beer.  Small fires dotted the beach, probably for warmth, Sue thought, shivering again.  After all, this group didn’t exactly look like the marshmallow roasting type.

“Have a seat!” Steve said to Sue, gesturing toward one of the blankets as he grabbed a beer.  Sue sat stiffly on the blanket and eyed her surroundings.  Most of the guys there were long-haired and real filthy looking. Barely ten girls were present, and they, in their skin-tight hot pants and leather go-go boots were far from being visions of purity.  Guitar music was furnished by a guy who looked like he hadn’t seen a bar of soap in months. To Sue, the entire scene was…well, pretty grotty (note: British slang for “grotesque”). Sounds of sinister laughter and beer bottles crashing against the rocks made her even more tense and jittery.

Steve noticed her discomfort. “Hey, loosen up, bird!” he said, reaching to rub the back of her neck. “I’ve seen corpses that looked more relaxed than you do.”

His words were like a knife sticking in Sue’s back.  “Corpses!” she screeched at him, leaping to her feet. “Don’t you DARE talk to me about corpses!  You don’t KNOW what I’ve been through this past year, or why I still wear black!  And what kind of jerk are you to bring a girl to a crummy place like this on a first date anyway?!”

Steve didn’t answer her.  His gaze suddenly was concentrated on the other end of the beach where a line of much cleaner looking guys, all in pure white T-shirts, now stood blocking it.  A sickening silence fell over the entire area.  Sue couldn’t help but notice that these guys in white were carrying weapons – everything from baseball bats to knives “Who are they?” she asked in a hushed voice.

Steve did not remove his eyes from the newcomers.  “We call them the Sissy Boys,” he answered quietly, scowling. “They’re the do-gooders, always trying to get rid of the likes of us.  They think we’re nothing but slime, the scum of the earth.  We usually stay out of each other’s way, but when we do happen to come face to face, it’s war, explosive - like a keg of gunpowder meeting a lighted match.  Problem is, right now we’re on their beach, their turf.”

Sue’s eyes widened in fear. “Then why on earth are you here?  Why don’t you just go to another beach?”

“Because we like this beach,” Steve said. “Now, listen, there’s apt to be some trouble here tonight – big trouble, bloodshed. You head back to where we left the bike, OK?  If I live through this rumble I’ll meet you up there later.”  He squeezed Sue’s hand and his huge blue eyes met hers for a brief moment, then he grabbed a broken beer bottle and disappeared into the darkness.

Sue stood silently and watched him for a moment before heading back up the rocky path.  She knew she HAD to find Shelly and Sybil, and fast!  She had a very bad feeling about this battle with the Sissy Boys.  A very bad feeling.

END OF CHAPTER

Did Steve and his buddies win the fight against the Sissy Boys?  Or were Shelly, Sue and Sybil left “widowed” once again and forced to hitchhike back to London and stock up on even more black clothing?  

Believe me, for the sake of my reputation as a writer, it’s better if the world never knows. (But just how tough can a gang called the “Sissy Boys” be anyway?).


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