Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20A | 20B | 21 | 22 | 23
PART I
SPEAKING IN TONGUES
24
“HELLO, MRS. SCARRITT,” Trey said cheerfully from the doorway the next day. It was Saturday. Marina was peeking around the corner where he couldn’t see her, as she was skittish about how rude she’d been at the concert last night. Her rudeness weighed heavily upon her mind, but, as Mother always told her, least said, soonest mended.
“Hello, Mr. Dunham,” Mother said stiffly. “Please, do come in. Marina will be out in a moment.”
“Thank you,” he said pleasantly and stepped into the foyer, but Mother kept him there.
Marina darted to the kitchen to gather the picnic basket, then waited for at least a minute before she went to meet Trey, who was standing in the foyer talking to Mother. “ … hide-and-go-seek.”
Mother said nothing for several seconds, during which Trey caught Marina’s eye and smiled.
“Hide-and-go-seek,” Mother said as if she’d never heard of it before.
“Yes. Gene and I are afraid the girls are getting tired of baseball—which, of course, they wouldn’t tell us because they are too polite—”
“Marina, most definitely.”
“Especially Marina,” Trey said with a conspiratorial nod at Mother. “What better Saturday afternoon entertainment than a soda, picnic, and games?”
“I think that’s a fine idea,” Father said from behind Marina, startling her. “Don’t you, Mrs. Scarritt?” he asked as he extended a hand to Trey.
“Sir,” Trey said with a firm shake of the hand. “Thank you. I’ve been very careful to select activities good Christian couples can indulge in.”
“Couples?” Mother asked sharply, while Marina tried to calm her racing heart.
“A man and a woman out courting,” Trey answer solicitously.
“She is not a woman. She’s sixteen. You are twenty-four.”
“Mrs. Scarritt,” Father said patiently, lightly grasping Mother’s elbow, “I think we can all agree that Marina is very mature for her age—”
Mother made a small peep.
“—and we have never had reason to doubt her ability to choose the right path. Dorothy will be there, Mr. Dunham?”
“Yes, sir, as well as Gene. We will be stopping by Kresge’s first, as usual, then go to a park amongst other picnickers, and we will leave long before dark. Mrs. Scarritt, I understand your concerns and will honor them to the best of my ability. I cannot, however, do anything about my age. To be honest, and this is a credit to you, I forget that the calendar says she’s sixteen. Her maturity is years beyond. I appreciate the reminder.”
“Lovely turn of phrase, Mr. Dunham.” Father’s mouth pursed in thought and he nodded slowly. “‘The calendar says … ’ Yes. Please do have fun, Marina.”
“Thank you, Father,” Marina said dutifully, but with a shy, grateful smile that garnered an indulgent smile from him in return.
“Thank you, Sir. Ma’am. Marina, shall we?” He swept her out the front door. “My, my!” Trey breathed as he took her picnic basket and offered his other arm to her. “I do believe your father likes me.”
“He does,” Marina said gaily.
Trey flashed her a grin. “Aren’t you chipper today!”
“Well,” she said matter-of-factly as he handed her in the car and put the picnic basket in the back, “Father’s been so kind, allowing me to walk out with you.”
“Is your father usually not kind?” Trey asked as they zipped down the street.
“He’s always kind, but not always as approving of things I thought he might be. I mayn’t go to Dot’s church, but I may walk out with you alone on Friday and Saturday evenings.”
“Courting is normal. Dot’s religion is not. I’m part of your church family. Dot never will be.”
“Ohhh,” Marina drawled in understanding. “Yes, of course, you’re right.”
“And he seems to have a lot of faith in you to know what’s right and proper.”
That made Marina the happiest of all. “I suppose he does.” Then she deflated. “I wish Mother did.”
“She likely does,” Trey said lightly. “I believe Dot’s right about your mother not wanting to let you go.”
Marina scowled. “I don’t know why. She knows I’ll not leave.”
Trey slid her a glance with a half-amused smile. “Are you planning to get rid of me?”
“Yes! I mean, no!” Now Marina was totally flustered. “I would like to enjoy having a beau for a while. That’s the way things go. I’ve told you that and I remind her often, so I don’t know why she continues to be irritated.”
“Marina, a man doesn’t court without intention and I have been courting you for weeks now. I told you that. Your parents know—which you would have no reason to, so it’s not a reflection of your smarts—that men like me always have the end in mind.”
Marina stared at him, but he was busy navigating from her house to downtown. “Are you saying … ”
“I am saying,” he said firmly, “I would not have gone to your father for permission to court you if I didn’t have something in mind for our future, you and I.”
Marina gasped, her heart in her throat. Her! Marina Scarritt! Marrying this man— Why, it was as good as a formal proposal! “Oh, golly gee whiz,” she whispered, one hand on her hat and the other pressed flat to her chest.
“Your father is happy with it, with me. Your mother is not. Yes, you are mature and yes, I do forget what the calendar says about you, but you would have no reason to understand what’s going on underneath what’s going on. No proper girl of any age should.”
Suddenly shy, Marina only said, “Oh,” in a small voice and sat back to simply enjoy the ride.
It wasn’t that simple. She was too thrilled at what Trey had just said. Marina Scarritt! Married!
“But the calendar is dictating how your father and I discuss it.”
Marina sighed, her hopes dashed. There was plenty of time before she turned eighteen for Trey to change his mind and, truth be told, she wanted to pop up at school able to say her name was Marina Dunham.
“That dratted calendar,” she muttered.
Trey chuckled. “Here we are,” he said smoothly as he pulled into a rare parking spot just a block beyond Kresge’s. Gene and Dot were already waiting for them in their booth.
As usual, Marina had a catawba flip, Trey a lime rickey, Dot a cherry lime phosphate, and Gene a vanilla phosphate.
As usual, Gene and Dot fell into conversation about his perfect Delaware family and her queer religion, which got more queer the more she talked.
As usual, the waitress tried to flirt with both Gene and Trey.
“You’re new here, aren’t you, doll?” Trey asked when she put his soda in front of him. She wasn’t so pretty as their usual one, but she wasn’t homely. She was, well, interesting looking.
“First day,” she chirped with a brilliant smile. “My dogs are already barking, but never had such fun working.”
Marina started to get jealous when she put her hand on Trey’s shoulder, but he ever-so-slightly shook her off. He tilted his chin toward her tray. “This is Marina. She’s got the flip there.”
“Of course,” she said smoothly, leaning over him to slide the drink in front of Marina. “There you go, sweetie.”
There was an awkward silence as she slid Dot’s drink to her, leaning across Gene the way she had Trey, who didn’t like it any more than Trey seemed to.
Marina relaxed. Of course they didn’t. They were courting good and proper gentlewomen because they were good and proper gentlemen. They didn’t hold with such brazen flirting.
But then she was gone and as usual, Marina and Trey fell into conversation about the books they were trading. He had a new one for her.
Her brow wrinkled. “Elmer Gantry? I’ve never heard of Sinclair Lewis.”
“You read mysteries, doll,” he said dryly.
Doll. She hated that.
“What? What did I say?” he asked softly, startling her.
It didn’t usually bother her that he could read her moods. In fact, it was quite convenient. Today, it bothered her.
“C’mon. You know I don’t take offense at anything you tell me, even when you think I’m not going to like it.”
That was true.
“I don’t like when you call me ‘doll,’” she admitted reluctantly, careful not to let Dot and Gene hear, but they were involved with their own conversation.
“Oh,” he said with surprise. “I’m sorry. It is too familiar, I’ll admit—”
“It’s not familiar enough,” she blurted.
He drew back a little. “How?”
“You call every girl ‘doll.’ You say it to Dot. You say it to the waitress—and you don’t even know her. You say it to the girl at checkout. If we—” She gulped. “If, um, what you said in the car, about a future, then I shouldn’t be the same as all the other girls.”
“Oh. Oh, my. I don’t intend that at all, d— Um.”
He was flustered and she felt herself blush. “I’m sorry. That was completely out of line. Of course, you may call me what pet name you like.”
“I just want to make you happy. Now we have to find one that will make you happy.”
She smiled shyly. “Thank you. I don’t want to seem demanding. It’s not proper.”
“I doubt you could be demanding,” he said dryly, sipping on his soda. “How about … ” He glanced around, then gestured toward the wall where it met the table. “Sugar. In honor of where we met.”
She smiled in utter delight. “That would be lovely, thank you.”
“You are quite welcome, Sugar.”
“Now, tell me about this book.”
“Do you know what satire is?”
24
If you don’t want to wait 2 years to get to the end, you can buy it here.
Pet names. Ha. Reminds me of an old Calvin and Hobbes strip:
https://www.reddit.com/r/calvinandhobbes/comments/o8ezi0/bitsy_pookums/
I cannot, however, do anything about my age. To be honest, and this is a credit to you, I forget that the calendar says she’s sixteen. Her maturity is years beyond. I appreciate the reminder.
I chuckled because I think “I appreciate the reminder” is an underhanded insult.
LOL Yes. She’s sharp enough to pick up details and insults, but she also doesn’t know enough to figure out why they’re important/insulting. She knows she’s missing some important piece of information.
you would have no reason to understand what’s going on underneath what’s going on. No proper girl of any age should.
Ahhh… he slipped up and referenced the bet to Marina. Though she probably doesn’t realize it.
It could be read that way, but he’s really referencing the undercurrents between him and Scarritt. Not even Mother understands what’s going on.
That part is what is confusing me. The preacher-con-man’s wife being more savvy than the man who plays games himself.
He was flustered and she felt herself blush. “I’m sorry. That was completely out of line. Of course, you may call me what pet name you like.”
“I just want to make you happy. Now we have to find one that will make you happy.”
She smiled shyly. “Thank you. I don’t want to seem demanding. It’s not proper.”
“I doubt you could be demanding,” he said dryly, sipping on his soda. “How about … ” He glanced around, then gestured toward the wall where it met the table. “Sugar. In honor of where we met.”
*stupid grin*
“I doubt you could be demanding,” he said dryly, sipping on his soda. “How about … ” He glanced around, then gestured toward the wall where it met the table. “Sugar. In honor of where we met.”
She smiled in utter delight. “That would be lovely, thank you.”
“You are quite welcome, Sugar.”
🙂
I wonder if “sugartits” was a thing back then… well, I might have chosen differently anyway.
Sugar is a motif. Like… sweet tea.
Trey is getting a lesson. I’m liking Mrs Scarritt more and more.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Zkm9ahFbVQ
Made my reservation for next Friday, Moj. Thanks
In a few more chapters, I guarantee you will absolutely despise her.
I already don’t like her.
Also only sixteen.
The obvious one.
Damn your nimble fingers!
On her next birthday…
I was expecting this.
But before then
https://youtu.be/UmPgMc3R8zg
Oof I remember that barely, not any of the lyrics.
Also only sixteen
Also only sixteen.
Sixteen
Sixteen.
https://youtube.com/watch?v=cY3g-UwnPaI&feature=shares
::lobs one in, runs away cackling::
Cackling is right.
Sam Cooke.
🙂
Awkward teenage blues.
I’m just hear to make sure you bitches know that MikeS has never Firsted in his life. That he is a seconding whore who eats his own pathetic cum to sustain the energy to second.
He grabs it with his small, hammer shaped fingers and just mashes it in his mouth as it the gray sludge oozes everywhere.
Are you deaf?
Also, don’t call me a bitch, bitch.
Fuck you YouTube. You’re not TikTok. Stop trying to push your garbage shorts.
You know, Firsts were the original shorts.
You could say that we essentially invented Twitter, Tiktok, and the shorts on other social media platforms. Only to have them stolen from us from the seconding robber barons.
CryFirst harderhttps://archive.ph/3wev6/421cc68c19b8889c05d9c88b59c01dfdcb431fe3.webp
NSFW.
https://archive.ph/hnyJt/809128df15d59643b0e0c4e0f5e514d01c241ded.webp
NSFW.
https://archive.ph/bRwBE/84ba4d8f5cdba8dccdf59288a3322ec34c04d63a.webp
NSFW.
https://archive.ph/6lutP/95edd4dd0ae5b46451aabc3a00c855ecb24b0ece.webp
NSFW.
oh my
Each one prettier than the next.
https://archive.ph/5rjgL/6ffcebb78867830d855443c01b4376887f2d0ee9.jpg
NSFW.
Liz Hurley’s nearly as pretty sister?
Well Rip
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gordon_Moore
Software gets slow faster than hardware gets fast.
There’s a euphemism in there somewhere.
That’s unfortunate. He seemed like a decent guy.
Aw. Looks like he lived a good life. “Died at home in Hawaii.” At 94.
Honestly didn’t know he was still around.
Me neither.
Hawaii and Florida are both good candidates as “God’s waiting room”
TBH I didn’t realize he was still alive in 2023.
awe was hoping for late late night zoomies. Oh well. Well done Mojeaux
I am excellent at catching the overnight lull. I could even make it my shtick, but I won’t.
Morning Glibs and the world!
It’s Saturday, time’s a-wastin’. I gotta get busy if I’m gonna screw things up today.
Mornin’, Ralph!
Morning, TO’G
Give ’em a break and they want the whole day off. That’s the problem with young people today.
You’re supposed to reply, “Mornin’, Sam”. e.g., http://looneytunescaps.blogspot.com/2014/11/steal-wool.html
But I’ll allow it. 😉
*waves*
Mornin’ all. Wet and rainy out there this morning. Supposed to mix with snow this afternoon. Bleah.
But then again, nobody has to shovel rain.
☕😉
morning,
Mornin, Ralphs.
😃
https://www.wfmz.com/news/area/berks/2-dead-in-explosion-at-west-reading-chocolate-factory/article_8a23064a-ca89-11ed-8b80-bf25e067fdf1.html
Russian saboteurs trying to ruin Easter!*
*adjusts tin foil
https://twitter.com/KadhimWrites/status/1639400926233473024
Yikes.
The milk chocolate melts in your factory, not in your hand.
https://nypost.com/2023/03/24/time-traveler-claims-hostile-aliens-are-coming-to-earth/
Good. I can’t wait.
I need more proof that they are a time traveller and not yet another kook.
Winning lottery numbers aren’t going to save you from the aliens. 👽👽