Norm / Reflections
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."..I had been transported across 2000 miles...Memories and heartaches,
however, came along for the ride."
CHAPTER SIX
Norm/Reflections
It seemed impossible to think that I may never see Norm again. I
thought about the kite that we bought at a grocery store and flew in
the spring gusts until it was a mere speck in the blue sky. I
remembered our discussion about the importance of seat belts, after
which a love-smitten, one-armed Don Juan nearly forced us off the road.
I thought about the many times he pitched to me, saying, "Keep your
eye on the ball!," and how we rumbled up the street to K Mart on
low-budget shopping sprees. I did not have Tracy's address, so letters
would be a pointless effort. My mind began to create images,
concocting chance encounters and elaborate dialogues. I pictured his
tall form striding from a store into the sun-bathed parking lot; I
would run to him despite the protests of my parents. The image would
dissolve and another would take its place. This time, I saw him while
I was alone; I was able to obtain his phone number and address, and
planned to keep in touch. Again the fantasy would fade. I wondered
fearfully whether the years would so change his facial appearance that
I would fail to recognize him. Nothing and no one in life was immune
to change; features, health, relationships...everything could bloom or
wither in an instant.
Many thoughts flooded my mind during the next week. I considered my
parents and their steadfast values, and understood their torment.
Their son was about to embark on a lifestyle which they viewed as
morally wrong. After 20 years of guidance, Norm's action was
translated as an injustice done to them. Often I heard my dad describe
an incident, remarking, "If the kid really loved his parents, he
wouldn't have done (it) out of respect for them."
I had been raised under the same school of thought, and, until my views
had been tested, my stance on various issues usually echoed those of my
parents. Following the incident with my brother, however, I could no
longer believe that cohabitation without marriage was so wrong that the
act should tempt a parent to disown his son, especially if the two
cohabitants loved each other. Had Norm been a promiscuous lout who
flitted from one woman to the next merely for the purpose of filling
his primal needs, I would have agreed that his irresponsibility
demanded punitive action.
As I reflected over my silent disagreements, I wondered why Norm and
Tracy couldn't get married. If their life was to be shared, why didn't
they just marry to please society? Sure, the legality may only have
been a grand joke to Tracy, but if it saved certain relationships, was
it not worth the trouble? Moreover, Norm had always avoided involving
himself in a scene which would direct undue attention. I found the
current circumstances rather odd and out of character, for "shacking
up" was a relatively new phenomenon to strike the midwest. I had no
answers, and my questions had no ear to rest upon. It was best not to
dwell on that which I could not hope to change.
After a week of emotional survival, I boarded a jet bound for
California. With all my expenses paid, I was to spend several weeks at
the Santa Monica home of my aunt and uncle. Never having flown, I was
excited when the journey commenced and the jet tore a path into the
hazy summer sky. I found flying to be a delightful affair, especially
during the circulation of complimentary pop and peanuts. Silvery
mounds of cloud formations glistened against the sun's blinding light.
Across the blanket of white, another jet raced toward a secret
destination. Corn and wheat fields made a quilted pattern of the
landscape. Rectangular fields slowly gave in to circular ones as the
jet scorched westward; irrigation. The Rocky Mountains pierced a
jagged line through low-flying clouds that skirted each side of the
airliner, and the fertile land disappeared where the soaring mountains
grew from the earth. The jet flew past that which nature took
centuries to create as if it was insignificant and worth little more
than a fleeting glimpse. The mountains were now behind us. As I
peered out of the tiny window, the land became increasingly arid and
fewer roads disrupted the sea of creeping grass and sage brush.
As we began our descent, I felt my ears clog in rebellion to the slight
change in air pressure. Swallowing and trying to induce yawns, I
cleared my ears continuously until the jet was hanging lazily above
city streets and buildings. Not until the aircraft touched down on the
runway was I aware of the speed at which the jet was moving; the grass
was at first a green blur against outstretched silver wings, and we
rushed on as if powered by an unstoppable force. Then I perceived that
the forward thrust was steadily reined until the huge jet slowly
strolled along the landing strip and taxied toward the Los Angeles
terminal. Within the passage of hours I had been transported across
2000 miles; it certainly did not take a long time to leave a place.
Memories and heartaches, however, came along for the ride.
This was my vacation, and I tried to avoid thinking about that which
had transpired the week earlier. While my aunt and uncle showed me the
sights in their part of California, my parents decided to take a
vacation of their own. They, too learned that miles did not alleviate
worry. Worry cannot be left at home. It is weightless baggage that
one is obliged to carry.
After several days of eventful tours, relaxing on my aunt's patio
swing, and tempting their aged and extremely bored cat into playing
with a ball of yarn, I received a phone call from my mom. They had
returned from their small trip and found a note from Norm saying that
he and Tracy were married. I was ecstatic. My fears had never
materialized.
I hung up the phone, feeling that I had been revitalized by a flood of
happiness. It now was possible to truly enjoy the remainder of my stay
in California. I determined that I would attempt to find gifts to give
Norm and Tracy for the purpose of demonstrating my affection; and a
"wedding gift" seemed rather inappropriate under the circumstances.
After a joyous day in Disneyland, where I rode countless rides and was
seemingly transported into a magical world, I finally purchased two
items, a hand-carved wooden box for Tracy and a back-scratcher for my
brother. My treasures were placed in a sack and I clung to them
excitedly. No longer helpless and unable to express my love, I felt
like a child who had just recovered a favorite belonging from the "lost
and found." Disneyland shined that night, and the parade of lights
glistened on Main Street with a star-like fire. No fantasy could
compare with a dream that came true.
The summer had ended well. I reveled in the hours spent with Norm and
his wife; it was easy to be with them, for their life appeared low-key
and free of pretense. As we discovered many common interests, Tracy
became the sister that Sharon was unable to be, living 80 miles
distant. Toward Norm also, I developed a greater understanding, and a
deep, yet unspoken bond formed between us; we discovered that we were
quite alike, thinking in the same manner and sharing the same type of
humor.
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