Thursday, April 30, 2015

CONTINUED: Jimmy Bean 9/10





  

A year is a very long time when you’re fourteen.  Especially when Jimmy had graduated the year before and I was yearning to see him again in the hallways
and at lunch.  Now it would be another year.    I day dreamed about us meeting outside the high school at lunch time, sitting on the iron pipe that surrounded the grass while all the girls noticed us and were jealous of me. 
But when I finally arrived at the free academy the next year, Jimmy was lost to me in a cloud of older girls who swarmed around him constantly.  Often he came down the hallway surrounded by a group of girls, all giggling and talking.  If I wasn’t so in love, I’d have been angry with him.  He just got more and more handsome and grownup while I got pimples, eczema and often had sporadic times of the month, which Irene called peek-a-boo periods.
I remember one afternoon after school when I started up Elm Street for home and Jimmy Bean came toward me, walking in a group of eleventh grade boys and girls. He recognized me and ordinarily would have stopped to say hello, but the crowd dragged him along with them.  He quickly glanced at me but kept going along with his friends.  I felt ignored and I knew that even if I were in the same grade as those kids, I’d never be invited along with them and Jimmy.  They wore the latest clothes and said smart things.  I never thought of anything to say.  Maybe I should have given up on being with him, but instead I became even more determined to somehow take him away and  have him all to myself. 
There wasn’t much chance of me pulling it off, not with a boy so popular that, even after he graduated and went to work in the fish pole factory on Whitesboro Street, the senior and junior girls still talked about Jimmy. 


When church let out on Sunday morning I got a half a minute of his time out on the street after Mass.  I kidded him about being so popular. 
“Pretty soon you’ll be in the newspaper,” I said as I caught up to him outside of Saint Francis de Sales Church.  But instead of being embarrassed or even trying to look a little humble, his face lit up in a winning smile.  I never met a boy who made me love him more by loving himself.  He was like his own cheerleader and I couldn’t help to not stand up and cheer him on.
I wasn’t very good at small talk, but I always felt completely comfortable with Jimmy, even though my heart was pumping a mile a minute whenever I was near him.  And although he always said something nice to me,  I knew he was looking at me as a little girl.  That was disappointing, because I was aware of boys in my grade starting to stare at me with that weird look in their eyes.
“Mary, you’re just the swell-est kid on Steuben Street,” he said to me.  I went home and rolled this pronouncement over and over in my mind, trying to find a hint of interest from him.