Santa Cruz

This is how I told Darlene about the daughter that wasn’t born yet. Another day, sitting in the car, eating tuna sandwiches and watching cars go by on Scotts Valley Road. Brown log and cinderblock building across the way, with different old cars, or maybe just the cars were moved around.

"What would you say," Darlene said, "If I told you I was seventeen?"

"You're not seventeen," I said, after I swallowed my bite of sandwich without chewing. I hoped she wasn't seventeen.

"What if I was?" Darlene said, "Would it matter?"

"Well, yeah," I said, "It would."

"Why?" Darlene said, "Age shouldn't matter."

"Well, it does," I said, "Even if it didn't it would because you lied."

"But if age doesn't matter," Darlene said, "Why would it matter how old I was."

"Because you told me you were twenty three." I said.

"It's the lying part," I said.

"But what if I really was seventeen," Darlene said, "and you knew it from the start."

She took a bite of her sandwich and chewed it. She was looking at me, one eyebrow up.

"But you're not," I said.

"But what if I was?" Darlene said, "Would it matter?"

"Yeah," I said, "I guess it would."

"But why would it matter," Darlene said, "If age doesn't matter?"


Darlene was looking at me, cool clean look said she wanted to know. Really wanted to know my answer, my true feeling. Really wanted to know why it would matter if she was seventeen years old.

"Okay, I said, "Let me think."

"You need to think about it?" Darlene said, eyebrows up.

Darlene's eyebrows were up and her chin up and her face solemn like she was a seventh grade civics teacher who just asked you why America was such a great place to live after spending a month on the constitution and the bill of rights. Why is America such a great place to live, she asks, standing in front of the room and then she calls your name. Your name. Don't you just hate it when they ask the question first and then decide who they're gonna call on to answer it and you've been sitting there thinking about Charlotte Post's legs in that mini-skirt her round thighs all white with blue veins because she doesn't wear stockings or pantyhose and so you know that up under there, up under that tan miniskirt that's so tight across the front when she sits down it leaves a dark tunnel that goes all the way, you just know, all the way to her panties and she's sitting next to you in class, so you sit back in your seat and push the chair back so you can watch her legs, her round thighs, her blue veins, her calves and can't really think about anything else and then Ms. Beekman is asking you, asking you but you didn't hear the question so she repeats it, why is America such a great place to live and when you try to get that list from your book in your mind overlapping Charlotte Post's legs and then Charlotte Post actually turns toward you and you can see a whole inch of Charlotte Post's skin up inside her thigh up under her tan mini skirt and all you can say is
"Uh," You say.

"You have to think about it?" Ms. Beekman says.

That's how Darlene looked, asking me if I had to think about it.

Maybe that's not a good analogy.


"Well," I said, "Just to get my thoughts in order."

"Take your time," Dar said. She took a bite of her sandwich and chewed. I looked out the window and watched cars go by on Scotts Valley Road. Kind of watched them go by, while I was thinking.

"I think I got it," I said, "It matters, because when you're seventeen, you really don't know what you want."

"When you're seventeen," I said, "You think of things a certain way, and it's too early to settle down."

"Huh?" Darlene said.

"I mean," I said, "When you're seventeen, you still have a lot to learn, a lot to explore. It's kinda too soon to think you've found somebody you want to spend a long time with, even though you think you're ready for that, most times you're not."

I wasn’t looking at Darlene. I couldn’t look at Darlene and think about this answer and get it right, so I just looked out the windshield at the cars going by.

"Especially somebody older," I said, "When you're older, you've had more time to explore and do things and then you know more about what you want out of life."

"I mean," I said, "At seventeen, you're about to go stepping out into that whole world of alcohol and bars and disco and running around and first apartment and stuff. If you're with someone older and they don't want to do that, then you’d get resentful after a while and want to leave."

"I mean," I said, "You kind of have to feel like you've lived some life before you're ready to settle down."

"Settle down?" Darlene said.

"Yeah, you know," I said.

"Are we talkin' about settlin' down?" Darlene said.

Talking about settling down? Is that what we were talking about? How did we get to talking about settling down? I looked at Darlene and she was smiling just a little smile at me, just a little we’re joking now, aren’t we smile.

"Yeah, I guess." I said.