BOOSTERS

Episode

Scene 1;The Pool

             Setting; Late1960s – Early 70s [Music] - “Paint it Black" by;

                                              The Rolling Stones

    

             School bell rings and all the kids charge out; some getting into cars others into buses. But one boy bursts through the crowd. Darting past the cars and buses, weaving through teachers and crosswalk cops, he runs out of the parking lot, turns right and heads down the street toward home. He waves at neighbors mowing or watering their lawns, shouts hello at Mr. Jones, picking up a newspaper and Miss Gibralter, sweeping her driveway. He slows to a respectful walk and pulls out the Mr. Goodbar Mom always packs for the walk home. As he unwraps and cherishes the Chocolate, he passes the “Grove”; a place feared by all kids because, first of all, because the olive grove was an endless sea of darkness and the driveway that lurked beside it vanished to nowhere. Or so it seemed. And secondly, no one ever came or went from the forest. Noone. Ever. The boy, now about halfway home, reaches down picks out a suitable stone,clears the long blonde bangs from his view, spits on the stone for luck and throws it, left- handed with all of his might deep into the ocean of trees; Just because? No! To destroy one of the countless demons that wait within, For Him. He finishes the candy bar, crumples the rapper and tosses it to the ground where it lies with countless other discarded Mr. Goodbar rappers. After successfully escaping any danger the grove had to offer, the path was clear for a quick dash home.

                                                   

                                  Music - "Strange Brew" by Cream 

                                                Man Speaking

    The swimming pool in the our apartment complex would have been just any other lower income Northern California experience of the late nineteen sixties if not for the man, Vicious Valentino Coule (pronounced Cool); Vic Coule, Uncle Vic, Vic.

     He called me Kid. I don’t know what he called the other kids or if he even knew any of the other kids. But, I do know this. Every day after I made it home from school, I would carefully remove the latch key, from beneath my,” Monkeys”, tee shirt. (Mickey Dolans was my favorite. Everyone else liked Davy Jones )I would slowly turn the key and carefully enter our apartment as "James Bond" or "The Green Hornet". Then quickly and silently, not wanting to disturb any unwanted intruders, I would drop my school stuff and head next door to say hi to Grandpa, who would smile, sip his burgundy, nod, wave and continue reading the sports section. Not a care in the world. Finally, I would put on my cut-off Levis and head for the pool, no shoes of course because my feet were tough from blazing the charred blacktop all summer. After a quick dip I always knew what would happen next.

“Hey Kid”.Vic would whisper, from his Cadillac, poolside recliner.

     Vic’s whispers could travel across the universe. I could somehow hear him even when I was under water. Lady, my neighbor’s cockapoo - terrier, who lived in # 239, would always take notice by hopping on her hind legs and pawing the air.

“Hey Kid, You wanna get me some smokes?”

     Vic didn’t have to ask anyone for anything. But he always asked me if I wanted to get him smokes. Nineteen sixty eight - smokes were 25 cents. With a clandestine handshake move Vic would slip me a buck. Then he would motion to one of his many bathing clad apartment house beauties  who would faithfully hand him his shades and oil his thighs. And I, without a question, would close my fist and head for the shortcut through the back fence to the local Shell gas station where they had a pack of Lucky Strikes and 75 cents waiting for me on the counter.

            On return, I would stealthily open the gate to the pool and work my way to Vic’s right shoulder. He would put out his hand out and I would hand over the smokes and 75cents. He always gave back the 75. Then, quick as a snake, silent as a shark, he would snatch me up and toss me miles into the air, where I would viciously clutch the seventy five cents and plunge into the pool. No one including myself ever knew how I was going to land. But I’m pretty sure everyone knew I wouldn not let go of the cash. Kurrsplash! I never did let go; Not even the first time when everyone knew I couldn’t swim yet. That’s how I learned. Maybe that’s why Vicious Valentino Coule trusted me with his money; and many other things later in life.

            My mother would arrive after work, at poolside.We had been swimming for a couple of hours. Thinking back, I swear she would wink at Vic as she called me for supper. I never wanted to leave the pool because we always seemed to be in the middle of some very important business; Marco Polo, Dive and ditch, or Rag Tag. Ragtag was my favorite, where whoever is “It” had the rag and had to hit one of the other players. It’s a fierce practice in holding your breath and escaping death; especially if you’re one of the targets trying to dodge the double barreled soaking wet rag, flung at warp speed toward your face…

 Grudgingly, mid –game, I would work my way to the gate, cross the scorching blacktop, leaving a wet footprint trail and head home for some Mac and Cheese or Hamburger Helper.

       After supper, we would watch some TV at Grandpa’s. But if Speed Racer or Gilligan’s Island weren’t on, Grandpa would teach me chess. I’d finish my homework as quick as a snake and still have time for a late swim. There was no lifeguard at our pool and Vic was never out after supper. So I had to find an adult to “watch me”. Every child had to have an adult to take responsibility for them when swimming; Even though most of us kids were better swimmers than the adults. If there were no adults at the pool I would go door to door. I would knock on Mr. and Mrs. Farrell’s door first. Their daughter Tiffany was in my second grade class. I don’t remember them ever coming out to watch, but I always went there first just to see if Tiff wanted to swim: Then came Jerry, the truck driver who was rarely home; but when he was he would always “watch me.” Next I would go to 239, Mrs. Jacobie.

“Mrs. Jacoby, Will you “watch me.”

“What about your mom, or your Grandpa?” She would kindly question.

“Oh, you know Grandpa. And I think my mom’s ironing”

 Mrs. Jacoby relied heavily on the opinion of Lady because she would glance down at the pooch, and if Lady stood on here hind legs and pawed her thigh, it was a go, if not, oh well. It was about a fifty- fifty shot. I would hit three or four more doors before Josh’s. Josh was nineteen and just started college. But if he was home he was good for ten minutes. He'd say.

“OK Kid, ten minutes. I’ll be down in five. And don’t go in before I get there. Last time you did, you nearly got us both in Dutch.”

“OK Josh. We don’t need any trouble. Right?”

“That’s Right Kid.”

     I liked swimming with Josh. His girlfriend would always come down with him to catch the last of the Day- light-savings sun. While she sunned Josh would do laps. He would fly by me like an Olympian. But I would try and keep up. I think I learned more about swimming from Josh than anyone else. After he finished his laps he would say.

“Time’s up Kid.”

“Ah, Come on Josh the pool lights just came on.”

       I always felt like Jacque Cousteau when I got to swim at night because the giant floodlight in the deep end somehow transformed the pool into an ocean. And I was scuba diving somewhere off the coast, searching for Great whites.

“No... Maybe next time Kid.” Go to bed. Get out of my hair.”

“See you tomorrow Josh, Thanks”

” Yeh Kid. You will.”

He’d whisper.

      As I walked through the door of apartment 22 mom inevitably would be relaxing in her Lazy Boy recliner; watching Gunsmoke or Perry Mason and having a smoke.

“It lives!!”... She would proclaim. 

After being in the water I must have looked like “ The Creature from the Black Lagoon”.

“Yeehhh.”…I would sigh sarcastically as we hugged.

“Now go wash up before bedtime son.”

“Mom?"…

“Yes honey.”…

“What’s Vic’s ring doing on the bathroom sink?”

“Don’t you worry my little tough guy. I’ll get it to him tomorrow with his ironing.”

“OK. Mother.”

          A toilet flushes and a kids bedroom door slowly closes.

On the door is a toxic chemical waste sign that reads "Danger! Do not Enter"

Casper the Friendly Ghost night light inside the bedroom fades to black.

                     Music - The Doors - People Are Strange