Locomotive to the Past by George Schultz (iphone ebook reader .TXT) 📕

As overcome as Jason was—overwrought, with bare emotion—he was unable to answer, vocally. He could only shake his head—slowly, sadly—in the negative.

“I’ll tell you what,” observed the, obviously-deeply-moved, young woman, in response. “I’d sure give a cookie! A cookie… and everything else . . . to know more, about you! To know about… how you grew up! About who brought you up! And brought about all this emotional… well, all this emotional… this emotional wreckage! I’ve never seen anyone… with such an inferiority complex.” Then, she smiled—warmly. She patted his hand. “Well,” she augmented, “maybe I have. But, you see? They were inferior!”

Her observation caused the number—and rapidity—of his tears to abate! Noticeably! More significantly, his smile—while labored—was a bona fide smile! To her immense relief!

“Jason,” she admonished, “You’re going to have to learn… that you are! That you are . . . a nice man. A genuinely nice man! Listen! I love you! Love you… deeply! And not because I see you, as some kind of… some kind of a reclamation project! I, for sure . . . for damn sure… love you! Love you… for who you are! For what you… really and truly… are! I see a kind man! A gentle man! An honorable man! A man with principle! A loving . . . a giving . . . man! An unselfish man!”

“Valerie!” The tears had begun, once more. “Valerie? You can’t know! Cannot know how what you’re saying… what it’s doing! What it’s doing . . . to me.”

“I really think… that I do! And it’s all stuff… all things . . . have been needed to have been spoken! Spoken before! Spoken well before! You are . . . all of those things! All of those things! Always have been… near as I can tell! It’s bad enough… that they weren’t being said! But, to have you headed… headed off, in the opposite direction… well, that is, positively, criminal!”

“Aw, Valerie!” The tears were beginning to dry up! Surprisingly quickly! “I think you’re making too much of…”

“Jason, I know . . . what I’m seeing! I know who I’m speaking to! I know what a fine man you are! I know the man! I know . . . the man, whom I’m deeply in love with!”

“Valerie? Valerie, could I ask you to come up… come up… and look at my apartment?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” she replied—nodding her head exuberantly!

Ohio Street! Jason had had a goodly number of reservations—over the fact that he’d invited his fiancée, to “inspect the premises”. They’d especially run rampant—during the drive, from the eatery. This—despite Valerie’s obvious anxiousness, to see his living quarters. Like everything else, his inferiority complex was—obviously—rearing its ugly head, once again! The malady was, obviously, “kicking in”—as a later generation would come to say, some years down the road.

Another “false alarm”! What else was new? The latter was another expression—from the future! Why would it be, that they, all of a sudden, were bursting forth—helter-skelter—within his overheated mind? Inside his smoldering brain? “False alarm”—consisting of the fact, that Valerie was absolutely thrilled, with the “joint”! Contrary to his fears! Contrary to his expectations!

The celebrated dwelling was located, on the third floor—at the rear, of the six-story building! It looked out over Cherrylawn, the next street over—toward downtown. A block of single-dwelling, two-story, classic-looking, homes—built sometime around the turn, of the century.

If Jason was remembering correctly, one set of Grandpa Piepczyk’s grand parents would be living—at that very moment—on Cherrylawn! On the far side of the street—in the short block nearest Grand River. That’s what Our Hero thought that he’d remembered—from the old man’s frequent mention, of his mother’s parents. Something he would have to follow up.

This night—this special night—had turned out to be picture-perfect! The bright moonlight flooded the backyards—of all the many houses, on “this side” of Cherrylawn! Jason allowed as how he’d never seen the landscape so beautifully painted! A world class “mosaic”!

This, he thought, MUST be a special night! A very special night!

As the couple—after the traditional, obligatory, “tour of the joint”—stood in the living room (“side-by-each”) looking out of the windows (also “side-by-each”), the host remarked, “Look at all those bicycles… just lying out there! In the driveways! On the lawns… in back! I can’t believe . . . that the kids would just leave them out there, that way!”

“Why wouldn’t they?” responded his guest. “Who’s gonna steal a kid’s bike, for heaven’s sake?”

Truly—it was a different time and age! Truly! Different!

Our Boy was not to be allowed a great amount of time—to reflect upon the pronounced difference, in cultures! A seemingly silent signal caused them to—simultaneously—turn, and face one another! (A “special night”, indeed!)

“Jason?” Valerie’s voice was soft! Velvety! “Jason… I love you! Love you… so much!”

She reached over—and took each of his hands, in each of hers! Then, she led them, with a good deal of force, up to her breasts; theretofore “off-limits” territory!

He had, of course, patted her—on her beautiful bottom—from time to time! Even slapped her—that one (that very first) memorable time! Aside from a number of deep—extremely tender—kisses (and the occasional hand-on-the-knee, in the darkness of a movie house), that had been the extent of “intimacy” between the two!

As he’d clung onto her, he was hoping, fervently, that the “gesture” was not too physically intense—for the couple, to cope with! The contact was sending a multitude, of thoroughly-new, strictly-unknown, highly-electrified, emotions! Swirling them—again, helter-skelter—throughout his entire being! Warping his ulta-precarious psyche! Physically! Emotionally! Psychologically!

He’d never been that physically “involved”—with a woman—before! In either epoch! The closest he’d ever come had been the occasional, infrequent, “pats on the fanny”—with Valerie!

These random “Valerie-situations” had—easily—trumped, each of his scant previous experiences! Encounters, of any sort of erotic adventures—which had taken place, in his “other life”!

Those had consisted, mainly, of an occasional glimpse, of the shapely leg, of “Aunt Debbie”! There had been numerous times, when his fevered mind had gone ahead—and pictured his gorgeous “aunt”, in quite another “venue”! When he’d imagined her—in that simply-exciting mode, wherein she would be orchestrating, all