Hidden Past – Chapter 6

Chapter 6 - Hidden Past

Junior high school in Gallipolis was hard work for Angela. Her mother continued in a cycle of depression, binge drinking, brief periods of euphoria, and then anger. The anger seemed directed at her deceased husband, at God, and at life in general. Sometimes she even got angry at her girls.

Angela, who—by almost anyone’s standards—was a very dedicated, hardworking daughter at age fourteen, began working at the same clothing store where her grandfather Capelli had worked. She rode her bike to run errands, take packages up Second Avenue to mail at the post office, and then pick up food and snacks for the clerks, the assistant manager, and the manager. She also cleaned the store three nights a week and rearranged the window displays at least once a month.

“Louie’s granddaughter has style. She has taste. She has an eye for what goes together and catches people’s attention as they look in the window,” the store manager told his best salesperson and assistant manager, Kenny Chessin.

“Yeah, and she’s mighty easy on the eyes too,” the twenty-one-year-old hotshot salesman and assistant manager retorted. Kenny was smooth and confident and hoped his part-time college career nearby at the University of Rio Grande would one day lead him to becoming a high school teacher or guidance counselor.

“You’re a dirty old man, and you’re barely old enough to drink,” the manager reacted with feigned disapproval.

“When they’re old enough to sprout, they’re old enough to sample,” Kenny leered, rolling his eyes. He tried to never let Angela know or be aware of his staring at her, imagining what she looked like naked, and vowing to himself that he would be the first man to show her what sex was all about.

“Well, let me know how the sampling goes, stud,” the manager said, and both men laughed loudly as if they had just see a funny pornographic scene.

Angela sensed that the cool, convertible-driving Kenny watched her whenever he thought he could do so without being noticed. She wasn’t sure about this man-woman thing, although she had read some pamphlets that had been passed out without explanation in eighth-grade health class. The pictures had shown diagrams of a man’s penis and a woman’s vagina, but no one had the nerve to ask questions.

Some of the athletes in high school asked her out, but she was basically afraid. She was afraid they might try to touch her breasts or try to get her to touch them. Her friend Sally, whose father was a minister, told her that sex was bad and was dirty unless a husband and wife did it together in an attempt to have children. Apparently, they could only have sex if they were trying to make a baby. But just exactly how the penis and vagina got together and created a pregnancy was not clear. Somehow, an egg got fertilized and became an embryo, a future person.

It didn’t seem like sex would be fun, but she guessed she would eventually find out. Her mom never dated after her dad died, and Angela didn’t have time for dating. Her mom, though, actually encouraged her to go out with boys. “Why don’t you go to the movies with Tom Fleming? His dad’s a doctor, so you know Tom will have money someday.”
Usually, Angela’s mom would go on to say, “You have to marry for money, Angie. Long after the love and the sex are gone, the money will still be there.”

No, this sex business didn’t sound like much fun, but maybe if the man had money, it would help take one’s mind off the sex.