Bingo Brown's Guide to Romance (2 page)

And he definitely would not Xerox the letter when he finished—no matter how perfect it was!

The soft drink aisle was empty, and Bingo pushed his cart directly into Health Supplies. One of the cart wheels stuck, and Bingo came to an abrupt halt. He glanced down and saw the trouble. A leaf of lettuce was jammed into the wheel.

He knelt, dislodged the leaf of lettuce, and looked up.

There she was!

Melissa was in Health Supplies!

Melissa and a friend were picking out a box of health supplies!

Fortunately Bingo was on his knees, so he was able to duck-walk backwards, pulling the cart with him, into the safety of Soft Drinks.

Here, after a few tense moments, he was able to straighten up.

Melissa—if it was Melissa—had been reading the directions on a box, and her head had been bent—so maybe it wasn't Melissa at all. Maybe it was a girl so like Melissa that he had made the same mistake as Billy Wentworth.

Bingo found that he was badly shaken and short of breath. The shock of thinking he had seen Melissa was as great as if he had seen Melissa. He was glad for the support of the grocery cart.

There was a convex mirror at the end of the aisle to keep people from stealing health supplies. Bingo had read only this week that the most frequently stolen product was Preparation H, so this mirror was a must.

In this mirror he had a good look at the girl who looked exactly like Melissa, and he found that it was Melissa.

No other girl had that hair, those eyes. No other girl had that T-shirt with the Declaration of Independence on it.

Bingo had only seen that T-shirt one other time, on the day of the T-shirt wear-in, but he had never forgotten it. It had been her mom's shirt and was very, very large on her. Now, however, the shirt was not so large. Either the shirt had shrunk or Melissa had enlarged.

He checked the mirror.

The shirt had not shrunk.

Therefore Melissa had enlarged.

He checked again.

The phrase “bigger than life” came to his mind and stayed there. Melissa was bigger than life.

He had a brief but troubling picture of her seeing him and holding out her arms. He would hold out his arms, too, of course, anything else would be unthinkable, but—and this is where the picture got troubling—when they met, where would their arms go? He knew where the arms went if the boy was taller, but now he was shorter.

Bingo's arms began to twitch nervously, as if they wanted to reach out and hold back at the same time. He understood his arms' reluctance. If his arms misjudged her size and reached out too low or too high, it might be embarrassing. Well, perhaps if one arm reached high and the other low, they could sort of meet around her without actually touching anything. That is, unless she reached out low-high, too, and her high arm hit his high arm and her low—

He forced himself to look at the situation rationally.

Problem
#2.
Girl Larger than Usual.

Suppose that you have not seen a girl for a long, long time. And the last time you saw this girl was on the front porch of her house. Suppose that even though her mother was watching, you kissed her good-bye because she was moving to a place like Bixby, Oklahoma, and you might never have this opportunity again. And so you leaned down—because she was smaller than you—and kissed her. Suppose months pass, and the next time you see this girl she has grown enough so that you will no longer be the one who has to bend down for the kiss. Should this deter you?

Bingo's Answer:
No, but other things might deter you, like the fact that she didn't answer your letter or let you know she was coming to town and was more interested in securing health supplies than in seeing you. Those things are far, far more important than height, which is—after all—only a statistic.

Bingo had now worked out the situation to his satisfaction, and he pushed his cart boldly into Health Supplies.

Melissa was gone.

“E
XCUSE ME.”

“What?”

“I'd like to get by, please.” It was a woman with a grocery cart.

“Of course,” Bingo said.

He discovered he was still blocking the aisle of health supplies. He pushed his cart quickly against the deodorants.

As Bingo waited for the lady to pass he checked the convex mirror. He didn't see Melissa, as he had hoped. He saw something he had hoped not to see—Billy Wentworth.

Wentworth was in the meat department, moving as if by radar straight to Health Supplies. Bingo U-turned his cart and moved to the front of the store.

Again no Melissa, but he sensed Wentworth was now moving to the front of the store, too.

Bingo abandoned his cart and began darting through the aisles, looking for Melissa. He had to see her again. He had to.

And he had to do this without Wentworth witnessing the meeting. He needed time to get his arms under control, to say nothing of his face, his thoughts, and the rest of himself. He stopped.

Melissa was at the end of Pet Products. Bingo rushed down the aisle and stopped behind a pyramid of Kibbles 'n Bits.

Melissa and her friend passed directly in front of him—not five feet away—on their way to the checkout counters.

The girl with Melissa glanced in his direction—the pyramid wasn't high enough to hide him completely—and she said something to Melissa. Bingo waited with his heart in his throat for Melissa to turn, to meet his eyes, to speak.

But Melissa did none of those things. She was concentrating on getting a place in the express lane.

Melissa was saying, “I can give the best home perms of anybody. My mom says I could be a beautician. This—my hair—”

She shook her head, and her hair flew out with such vigor Bingo could feel the breeze from it against his pale face.

Her earrings jangled. And these were not the tasteful gypsy earrings Bingo had given her last Christmas. These earrings were as big as handcuffs.

“—this is a home perm, but I don't broadcast the fact. Most people think it's natural.”

“It sure looks natural.”

Melissa turned the box over and checked the instructions. “Do you want body, waves, or curls?” She glanced sideways at her friend, but Bingo thought she looked beyond to where he stood behind Kibbles 'n Bits.

“What do you have?”

“Can't you tell? Curls, obviously.”

“I want curls, too.”

This exchange caused Bingo's doubts to return. Melissa—his Melissa—had naturally curly hair, didn't she? He had seen it up close. Maybe there was some mousse involved, but …

And! This Melissa didn't sound like his Melissa. She sounded like somebody from out of state. It could be something she had picked up in Oklahoma, but Bingo didn't know what an Oklahoman sounded like.

Bingo thought he had caught the faint scent of ginger-snaps as she fluffed out her hair, however, and if so, then it was Melissa. No other girl smelled like gingersnaps.

Bingo didn't know what to believe. Burning questions rose as bitter as indigestion.

Was it Melissa or a Melissa clone? Would Melissa come to town to buy health supplies without telling him? Could one girl have gotten that big in a year? Had he gotten bigger, too? And if he had gotten bigger, then how had she gotten even bigger? And—

“Yo, Melissa!”

It was Wentworth.

Melissa turned. “Oh, hi.”

“Remember that kid who used to be in our room at school?” Wentworth asked.

“Which one?”

“Named Bingo … had a lot of freckles?”

“Yes, I remember.”

“Well, he came in the store looking for you.”

“Did he? Well, he didn't find me.” She smiled.

Bingo's heart leapt in his chest. It was Melissa. Those were her teeth, and no matter how the rest of her had grown, her teeth had remained blessedly the same.

“I'll check around if you want to see him,” Wentworth offered.

Bingo got ready to step out.

“Don't bother.”

Bingo found that he had already stepped out, but no one noticed. Melissa and her friend went through the checkout line and left the store. Wentworth followed.

Bingo had to follow. He didn't want to. He had to. Then he remembered his mom's box of Rinso.

As if he were being fast-forwarded, he made his way back to Health Supplies, got the Rinso, and returned to the express register.

He gasped to the checkout girl, “I brought this box of soap into the store. See, I thought a girl I knew was in here and since I hadn't seen the girl in a while—her name is Melissa—I was in a hurry to see her and I rushed in and I had just been to the laundromat, which is why I have this half-empty box of soap. Do you need to call security?”

“Not really.”

“Thank you.”

She waved him on with a bored shrug.

Bingo rushed out into the parking lot, but Melissa and her friend were not in sight. Neither was Wentworth. Bingo stood for a moment clutching his box of Rinso.

He knew he didn't have a moment to waste. He had to get his bike and immediately set out after them.

He spun around, trying to remember where he had left his bicycle.

Then he remembered the laundry. He gave a cry of anguish. If he didn't start after Melissa immediately, he would be a troubled person for the rest of his life, always wondering why Melissa had come to town to buy health supplies, always dangling, suspended in the atmosphere of life, never able to get his feet on the ground.

He saw this as the crossroads of life. If he took the road that led to Melissa, he would find the answer to life's questions and happiness. If he took the road that led to the laundromat, he would find wet clothes.

Bingo sighed.

Slowly, painfully, he made his way to the King Koin. The only thing he had to be grateful for was that Wentworth had not waited to jeer at him.

In the laundromat, he emptied the first washing machines he came to and put the clumps of wet clothes into the basket on his bicycle. Then he pedaled through the doors.

He found himself pedaling faster as he crossed the parking lot.

Maybe all was not lost. Maybe there was still a chance. He could ride up Main Street and, if she wasn't there, take an immediate left onto Madison.

He pedaled harder, bending over his handlebars, and then he stiffened. He braked so fast he left rubber on the sidewalk.

He didn't want to see Melissa now. And he certainly didn't want Melissa to see him.

Problem #3. Sustaining Romance.

Suppose that you are forced, by family reversals, to carry a load of wet laundry on the back of your bicycle. And suppose that in the past you have presented yourself as a knowing, cool, gypsy-type lover. Will the sight of you with a load of unattractive wet laundry dampen this romantic picture as well as the flame of passion in her heart, or will it bring out her maternal instincts and a new depth to the flagging relationship previously …

Bingo didn't bother to answer the question. Once again, he took the long, painfully slow route home.

D
EAR MELISSA,

Bingo was at home
. HE
sat at his desk, hunched over the much-creased sheet of notebook paper.

His hands appeared to be steady, but the paper trembled, as if it had somehow absorbed the shock of the event in Health Supplies.

Dear Melissa,

Bingo tried to remember when he had written those two words—it had been at least three months ago, but he remembered the moment as clearly as if it had occurred yesterday.

He had started the letter, thinking it was going to be just one of his usual outstanding letters, and then—and then the pen had begun to move across the paper on its own, as if by magic, and that was when Bingo had realized this was going to be a love letter for eternity, maybe even infinity.

Bingo glanced back at his bed because he felt the need to lie down, but his bed was unmade. Not only that, but his mother had replaced his Smurf sheets with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, which had been on sale.

Bingo could barely sleep on the turtles, much less read a love letter for eternity on them.

He glanced at his letter and read what he had written:

Dear Melissa,

He looked up at the ceiling.

There was no need to continue reading the letter because he knew it by heart. The letter was that perfect.

It was too perfect. Actually, how he wished it hadn't been quite so perfect because then he wouldn't have Xeroxed it.

I have been thinking of you since breakfast. We only had Corn Pops because the baby had cried all night, and at first I thought my unsettled feeling had to do with an unsatisfactory breakfast.

Then came the sentence that had told Bingo that this was going to be a letter for eternity.

At nine-thirty I pedaled to Wendy's for a sausage biscuit, and after I ate a sausage biscuit and fries, I was still hungry. Then I realized that my hunger was for you.

The hunger of love, and this is truly the first time I have experienced it so intensely, is a unique experience, Melissa, and I sat in Wendy's until the waitress wiped my table three times and gave me a funny look. Then I went home and had a small box of Cheerios and felt a little better.

The letter went on in that heated manner for a full page. He had sent the letter off and waited anxiously for her reply. It wasn't like Melissa not to answer immediately. For a letter like this, she should have called.

And what a phone call it would have been!

Her voice would have undergone that wonderful change, deepening with pleasure as she thanked him. Girls were fortunate to be able to deepen their voices so attractively, and a thank-you in a voice deep with pleasure was something a man could carry in his heart forever.