The Letter - Chapter 7

This is so crazy!  I can’t believe I am doing this.  Snow was coming down hard.  The roads were wet, but they were getting slick as the snow started to stick.  I should be ok once I get to the main roads, but this looks like a pretty serious storm.  They’re saying four to six inches, but most of that is supposed to fall after midnight. I drove as fast as I dared given the treacherous conditions. What should have been a twenty minute drive looked like it might take forty-five or more.

And what kind of punishment should I give Jennifer?  I mean, what could have gotten into her to pick up my letter and then not give it back right away.  I do have to give her credit for owning up to her mistake before it was too late.  Of course, the way it’s snowing, it may already be too late.  I turned onto the main road and it was clear of snow.  Then I saw the long line of tail lights about five hundred yards up the road. 

“Shit!  Look at that line of cars,” I said out loud.  I gave the steering wheel a good whack. I considered turning onto a side road and turning on the GPS to help me find an alternate route.  No, I’m better off going the way I know.  Knnowing the hills of Pittsburgh and the way it’s snowing, I’d probably get stuck somewhere and never get there.  I saw flashing lights up ahead.  Just my luck.  An accident. 

I got in place behind the last car, hoping the accident would clear quickly.  I checked my watch.   Quarter to eight.  I tried to think.  How long is a basketball game anyhow?  Are there quarters and a halftime like in football?  If so, how long are they?  I tried to think back to high school – probably the last time I attended a basketball game.

“That would be a mere forty-five years ago,” I chuckled to myself.  It could be 8:30 before I get there.  The game might be over by then.  Anyway, what the hell am I doing?  Running off like some desperate school boy to see a woman that I haven’t seen in forty-five years.  And I don’t even know who she is. 

I looked at the cars ahead of me.  Cars were starting to move slowly.  Either the accident had cleared or the police were letting cars pass. 

She said we were classmates.  We had nearly 400 in our class if I remember correctly.  And she said we were only in one class together. How in the hell am I supposed to recognize her, let alone how will she recognize me?  People change in forty-five years.  Why would she write to me?  And not sign her name.  The only thing I can figure is she must be desperate.  Probably old, gray and weighs like 300 pounds.  Why else would she be trying to meet?  Her husband’s dead.  She probably drove him to the grave.

I passed the scene of the accident.  The car was on the side of the road, hitched to a tow truck.  No one appeared to be injured, thank God.  My thoughts returned to the letter.  Well, if nothing else, it piqued my curiosity.  Of course there’s that saying that ‘curiosity killed the cat.’  But no one is saying I have to marry whoever this is.  It’s just a chance to say ‘hi’ to an old classmate and chat over a cup of coffee.  And the way it’s snowing, we may have to take a raincheck on the coffee.  Or would that be a snowcheck?

I turned onto the road that would take me to the high school.  About another mile.  I looked at my watch.  Twenty past eight.  I hope I haven’t missed it.  I turned into the school parking lot.  Still full of cars.  The game must not be over yet.  I parked and ran to the school lobby.

“Is the game still on?  Can I get a ticket?” I asked the two students that were sitting behind a table in the lobby outside the gymnasium.  I heard a loud buzzer and the crowd inside cheered.

“Sounds like it just ended,” the female student with the frizzy red hair said.  We were ahead by 20 with a couple of minutes left.” 

Yeah, we creamed Steel Valley.  This will put us in first place,” said her male counterpart with the slicked back hair.

People started filing out of the gym.  I looked at the mass of people filling the lobby to see if I recognized anyone.  I positioned myself near the main exit thinking maybe she would recognize me and introduce herself.  The lobby slowly emptied until I was the only one there except for the custodian and the students that had been selling tickets.  I walked over to the students. 

“Hi.  My name is George Leskovic.  Is it possible that someone left a message for me?”

“You mean with us?” asked the kid with the slicked back hair.  “Not that I know of.”

“Me neither,” said the girl.  “I guess someone could have left a message with Cherry.  She sells candy at half time.  But she probably would have told me or Jared.”

“OK, thanks.”

“Hey mister,” said the red haired girl. “Here’s a schedule in case you want to come to a future game.”

I took the paper she handed me and stuffed it into my jacket pocket.  “Thanks.  Looks like the snow storm has taken a break,” I said looking out the glass doors.  “That’s probably a signal to all of us to get home while the gettin’ is good.”

I walked to the car.  The parking lot was almost empty.  I got in and drove back home.