“Josh called, Josh called, Josh called about seven times while you were out Betty,” a somewhat harried Mrs. Becker yelled up to Betty rushing to her room in order to get ready for her big date with new romance Teddy. Elizabeth Becker (named after favorite grandmother Elizabeth Simpson although everybody called her, the favorite granddaughter, Betty to keep things straight) froze for just a minute, just a minute decisive minute. Today Betty’s world turned, and she thought for the better or at least a chance for the better, and no Josh, Josh Breslin was going to hold her back. Hold her back from getting ahead in this wicked old world (to use a forever Josh expression) even if they had been going “steady” for the past two years since they met Freshman year in that silly old Civics class where Josh offered to help her through the thickets of the American governmental, local, state, and federal process. They fell for each other although he for her more than she for him especially lately, and she was wearing his class ring (Class of 1961) as of last summer.
Today though the world turned . Teddy, Teddy Andrews turned. Teddy today freshly met, six hours and fifteen minutes ago freshly met, at the beach, the beautiful, beautiful Olde Saco Beach, formerly just a beach, a too stony to the Betty feet touch beach, fetid at low tide (it stunk, honestly) and on more than one occasion held to be a beach fit solely for lowlife by one Betty Becker. But now beautiful, beautiful since Teddy, Teddy Andrews, had noticed her, had graced and traversed with his bare feet that stony brine in order to introduce himself to her, her Betty Becker, soon to be a senior at Olde Saco High and then, then …fleeting moments of fantasy, Mrs. Teddy Andrews.
Now it was not merely happenstance that Betty Becker was on Olde Saco Beach this July 1960 afternoon, stationed there along with her bevy of summering Olde Saco High School girls (okay, okay three other girls just in case four does not make a bevy) in their sacred sanctified spot between the Seal Rock Yacht Club and the South Saco River Club. This spot had been a dedicated place for the pick (and not so pick) of the Olde Saco High soon to be senior girls since, well, since there was probably an Olde Saco Beach, or at least as far back as anyone, any soon to be senior girl could remember. Reason: reason number one and there was (is) no other reason worthy of mention was this was prime real estate, stony brine or not, to be noticed, noticed in summer swim suits or diaphanous sun dresses, by what passed for the Olde Saco Mayfair set, junior division. In short, future husband or lover material to take a step or two up in the world without much heavy lifting (or so most of these young unworldly women thought).
That reason was moreover of more recent origin, and datable as well, since Lydia LeClair, Olde Saco Class of 1944, a friend and classmate of Betty’s Aunt Judy, and of humble MacAdams Textile Mills mill worker family had snagged Robert MacAdams, a grandson of the founder, and was even now comfortable ensconced in a small mansion over in Ocean City for all to see, and admire. Aunt Judy had brought Betty over there a couple of times to see how the other half lived and to emphasize that with Betty’s good looks she too should be thinking of snagging some local scion of a Mayfair swell family. After that first couple of visits Betty needed no coaxing to go pass that mansion on her own (or rather with that bevy of girls she hung around with) and dream her Betty dreams about getting out from under her gentile shabby existence (her mother’s term for the downwardly mobile fate of this branch of the Becker family since the old small Becker mill had closed a decade or so before).
So from that Lydia LeClair snag onward not only was this spot sacred senior girl ground but the seat of dreams, of getting out from under some small white picket fence cottage over on Atlantic Avenue and a pinched life fate like their parents. So daily in the summer, pretty girls, not so pretty girls, even just average girls could be found between those two boat clubs and nowhere else. And heaven help, no better, hell help any soon to be freshman, sophomore or junior girl (one not even need to mention junior high girls) found in that precinct before her time. Come to think of it most days anybody at all but that select company. (And those any other at all would be well advised to avoid that place what with the preening, the giggles, and the incessant johnny angel, teen angel, fool in love, earth angel, angel baby, endless sleep, music roaring out of those collective transistor radios). But enough of beaches, enough of stones, enough of boat clubs, enough of blaring music back to Betty Becker and her palpable dream.
That afternoon Teddy (father a lawyer for the MacAdams Textile Mills and therefore worthy of local Mayfair swell-dom) had spied her, he said, from the deck of the Seal Rock Club and was compelled, compelled he said, to check out the foxy blonde-haired chick (boy term of art, circa 1960 and forward, for, girl, woman) in the red bikini. Betty smiled, smiled the smile of the knowing, knowing that she had turned more than one head this summer, older guys too sporting silly no-account leering looks, with that very revealing bathing suit. Unlike the others though, young and old, that she would have rebuffed if they had approached (some if they had come within a mile of her) Teddy had noticed, saw red, saw sex in big letters, walked over to the bevy of blankets (the other three of the so-called bevy not exactly unbecoming but not blonde and red-bikini-ed and therefore this day not Teddy Andrews temperature raising) told her just that, told her how foxy she looked. And she practically swooned (although already practiced in coyness-ship just smiled, obligatory smile responded). A few minutes of off-hand banter and they were dated up for the evening.
Dreamy Teddy, rich Teddy, of the father-bought new Pontiac Star Chief sitting in front of the Seal Rock Club for all the world, all the Olde Saco girl world to see, and that was what mattered, with plenty of zip and style (car and boy) that every girl in school was crazy to get in the front seat of, and with. Teddy of the now forget Josh, forget he ever existed Josh. But more importantly, forget Josh in a “what is a girl to do, big doings, and a big hungry world ,” walking Josh of the no car fraternity. Josh and Betty eternally walking from her house to wherever, mainly the summerfallwinterfspring hang-out seawall in front of Seal Rock at the far end of the beach or, worst (since she did not like him) double-dating, eternally back seat double-dating with Josh’s corner boy (their term) Jimmy Leclerc and whatever thing he brought with him. Josh of the no dough family even lower on the totem pole that the Becker family what with his father unemployed a lot and sometimes without a car, or even a phone. Not even a phone. Blah.
And before Betty could hear the faint ring of another Josh call she was out the door and planned to be off-limits, Teddy off-limits, to every Josh in school, including Josh, until somebody came by with a father-bought Cadillac and then maybe she would find herself in the front seat of that automobile. Maybe. Yes, a girl, a working-class girl with good looks, a good personality but admittedly a little light on the book smarts, and a lot light on the dough smarts had to look out for herself. Josh, eternally understanding Josh, would understand, wouldn’t he?
Meanwhile Josh, Josh of the infinite nickels, had stepped away from the public telephone at Doc’s Drugstore over on Main Street after making that eighth call to one Betty Becker. See, Josh had two reasons for using the public telephone at Doc’s, first, he didn’t want snooping older brothers to harass him over his long Betty craze (they had her figured as, at best, a gold-digger and was just hanging on to Josh until the next best thing came along) and so he would not use a home phone to call her. And secondly, currently, the Breslin residence, due to an out of work father, had no phone with which to call Miss Betty in any case. So he was pushing shoe leather between the telephone booth and his stool at Doc’s where a forlorn Coke (cherry Coke) was waiting on the completion of his errand. He said to himself one more time was all and then he would head home. Ninth call, no soap, and he left saying a pitiful good night to Doc.
Out on Main Street Josh walked head down, lost in thought, when a big new Pontiac, two-toned (a couple of shades of green then stylish, uh, cool) passed him by, honking like crazy. He didn’t realize who it was until the car came back to him honking like crazy again. Then he saw Betty and her dreamy Teddy laughing, laughing like crazy at the “pedestrian.” The car stopped, Betty got out and gave Josh his class ring back saying that she was not walking any place anymore, thank you. And then, to add insult to injury, Teddy floored the gas pedal leaving dust all over Josh. He could faintly sense what he thought was them laughing, laughing like crazy once again as they drove away. Betty though was miffed at Teddy for that last act, and she later through one of her girlfriends conveyed that message, although she never said anything to Josh about it then or latter since she avoided him like the plague thereafter.
That emissary also found out and conveyed to Betty information that Josh had thought over the situation and while he was still hurt he could see that Betty had to take her chance, take her chance to get out from under the Olde Saco rock and while he didn’t forgive her he did understand. What he didn’t understand, and said he wouldn’t understand for many years, was why she acted that way that night on Main Street after they had just recently discussed the issue of not making fools of each other under any circumstances. That conversation ended when Betty and he had laughed at that thought promising eternally that such would never be their fates. Betty froze for another moment on hearing that news but her fate was cast. Just then Teddy honked his beautiful new Pontiac horn and she was off. That night as if to seal her new fate she let Teddy finally have his way with her.
[Betty MacAdams, nee Becker, did eventually find her Mayfair swell, for a while, marrying a great-grandson of the founder of the MacAdams textile fortune, moved over with the rest of the clan to Ocean City, had a couple of kids, was eventually divorced by that great-grandson when he went to live with his mistress, and was last heard to be living quietly in Europe on her divorce settlement. For a while, until such things went out of fashion, public fashion anyway, Betty was held up as the Olde Saco High senior girl example of the possibilities of summering between those two old boat clubs waiting on the Mayfair swells, junior division.- JLB]
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