Christopher Prato - Little Boy or, Enola Gay

“Why don’t you come back home with me tonight? My mother’s cooking dinner soon,” she said.

“Nah, I can’t really. I have to get home and study for a test tomorrow.”

“Maybe some other time?”

“Sure, sweety.”

“I’m so happy that we’re not fighting anymore,” she said with a big, sappy grin. I didn’t realize that not calling her meant we were fighting, but apparently that’s what she thought.

“No, Lynn,” I replied. “We’re not.”

When we got outside the bus pulled up immediately and as she was about to get on I grabbed her arm and whispered, “You’ve never done that before, right?”

“Done what?”

“You know—let a guy touch you there.”

She was a little confused. “Oh, no, no! Never! But I liked it!” And she smiled like the big tall idiot that she was.

“Okay,” I said, “just checking. See ya.”

With that Lynn boarded the bus and went home. She must have glowed the entire ride back. I was glowing, too, but for a different reason.

When I got home I nestled into the sofa in my den and watched TV for a few hours. I thought about calling Maria, but I was just too damn tired to talk. Being among the hoods at the mall made me exhausted. The mall’s like a big high school dance, only everyone’s shopping instead of dancing. And, like a dance, I’m always tired after I go there, probably because it takes up so much energy to tolerate the people inside.

Late that night, after dinner, I called up Lynn for the first time in weeks—and dumped her.

I couldn’t wait to go out with Maria again. When I called her up, she’d already heard about me and Lynn breaking up—and she was pissed.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you were going to do that?” she asked.

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want to make her mad, but I didn’t want to look like a jerk, either.

“I’m sorry. It all happened so quickly. I just wanted to go out with you, really.”

“What the hell did you do with her by the elevators?” she asked.

Shit! I didn’t know what to say.

“Well, nothing, we just fooled around a little bit. That’s all!”

“She told me you did a lot more than that! What kind of person are you? ” she screeched. That question sunk like a dagger into my heart. I thought: Good question. What kind of person am I?

“No, really, we just kissed a little bit. She really wanted to kiss me, so I kissed her. That’s all! I wanted to let her down easy. I don’t want to ever kiss her again, Maria. I only want to kiss you.”

She paused for a moment. I’m sure she was happy with what I said, but doubts lingered. “So, if we start dating, and you decide to break up with me, what are ya gonna do? Fuck me right before you dump me?” She had a point.

“Listen,” I continued, “just don’t worry about it. Nothing happened. It meant nothing, really. I just didn’t know what to do. I felt bad about breaking up with her, I wanted to make her feel better. Maria, I want to go out with you and you only. Please, let’s stop talking about this crap.”

She paused again. “Fine.”

“That’s it?” Her capacity to end such a heated discussion so quickly and maturely was startling.

“Yeah. Fine. Okay. But I don’t know if Lynn will want to be my friend if we start dating.” She was really worried about her stupid friendship with Lynn.

“Listen, Lynn wasn’t exactly your best friend. If you only knew what she said about you…”

“What did she say?” Maria demanded.

“It’s not so much what she said, really. But I think she wanted to fool around with me to get me to keep going out with her, and avoid dating you.” Was this true? Probably. Partially. But I had no right to say it. I had Maria so confused. I just wanted her to forget about Lynn. I didn’t want her to even see Lynn again. I wanted that part of her life, and mine, to be over with.

“Don’t worry, all that matters is that now we can go out whenever we want to! I really like you, Maria. Please don’t ruin this for us. Just forget about it.”

“Please don’t ruin this for us?” She was so angry and perplexed she sort of stressed every word in that sentence. There was a long pause. But then she gathered her thoughts and calmed down. “All right,” she said. “All right.”

I didn’t let a second go by before I asked her out. I can’t explain how badly I wanted to see her again. It’d been so long since I’d last inhaled her luscious aroma and touched her tiny hand. We’d had only one date in Central Park, that’s it. There was so much more to do.

I thought about how beautiful she was that day in the park, and how she clasped her hand to mine so tightly. I wanted to hold her hand again. I wanted to hold it and never let go. I told her so on the phone. I divulged all of the high hopes I had for us. And I told her that I had a surprise for her when we went out the next time. And I did. I wanted to carve our names into the tree near the pond where we’d sat for hours talking.

“What’s the surprise?” she said.

“Say you’ll go out with me this Saturday, and then you’ll find out. Please.”

“I want to see you again, too, A.J. But, I don’t know, something just doesn’t seem right.”

“What do you mean? You’re just worried about Lynn!” I was exasperated. But don’t worry—that’s all in the past now. We can do more than talk on the phone now. We can see each other as often as we want.”

She seemed a little confused, but I knew I’d gotten through to her.

“You’re right, A.J.” She paused again. She was always pausing. “Where do you want to go this weekend?”

“Same place as last date. Same time.”

I felt her smile over the phone. “Okay—the mall at eleven, right?”

“Let’s make it twelve. I should be done with my test by then.” God, was I thrilled that she wanted to see me again.

“Oh, that’s right. You’ve got your SATs on Saturday! Good luck, A.J.!” Her upbeat voice would propel me through the SATs successfully, and right into the Air Force Academy. I just knew it.

“Thank you,” I said. “I know I’ll do well now that I’m with you.”

“And I know it, too. Good night, hopeful.”

“Goodnight, hopeful ?”

“Yes, because that’s what you are—you’re hopeful—to me. You’re the only person who gives me any hope. Just don’t disappoint me, okay?”

I wanted to say I love you . I wanted to ask her to marry me right then and there. I wanted to go over to her house and see her, only I couldn’t drive yet. So I just said: “Thank you, Maria. Thank you so much for saying that. Goodnight.”

Looking back on my second date with Maria and describing it without bias is an arduous task. The sum of my time spent with Maria is uniformly positive or negative, depending on my mood. Nevertheless, in my heart, I am confident that the second time Maria and I went to Central Park was flawless, no matter what mood I’m in when I recount it.

It was a beautiful day in May. It was the kind of weather where you can keep your window wide open perpetually, warmed by the sun by day and cooled by the breeze at night. Between the SAT in the morning and my date with Maria in the afternoon, that day could have been a powerful journey from childhood to manhood. Could have been.

I took the test that morning and met Maria precisely at noon in front of the Queens Center Mall. She asked if we could go shopping in the mall for a while first, but I politely refused. I wanted to be with her in the park as soon as possible, and I told her so. She complied, gracefully.