Pewter Angels (11 page)

t
hey arrived just as
the trolley pulled into the stop. “Quickly, hold my hand,” Henry said as they ran across the avenue. Jenny playfully smacked him for stealing her line but took his hand just the same.

On board, Henry paid for both of them. No sooner had they sat down than the trolley jerked forward, throwing their heads back sharply. Instinctively, Henry sought Jenny’s hand once more. Jenny only stared ahead and smiled as she curled her fingers around his. Fifteen minutes later, they were on Broad Street. The Broadway Theatre beckoned from half a block away.

“Oh my, look at the line up!” exclaimed Jenny as the trolley rolled closer.

Henry couldn’t believe his eyes. The line up was almost half a block long. As soon as the trolley stopped, they hurried to join the throng.

“I hope we get in on time.”

“So do I.”

By the time they reached the wicket, it was almost show-time. As they paid for their tickets, the theatre manager came out and announced to the people behind them that the theatre was full and they would have to come back for the second screening.

“Whew,” Jenny remarked, “that was close.”

Henry nodded and asked if she wanted something to eat.

“I’m not really hungry—we just finished dinner before you came. But we could share something if you like.”

“Okay,” Henry replied. He got them a bag of popcorn and a drink.

The movie was starting as they entered the theatre and there were very few seats to be found.

“Over there!” Jenny whispered, pointing. “There are two seats, but a man is sitting between them.”

The man was enormous. His body flooded the entire seat, hiding any evidence of a second vacant chair. Henry politely asked if he would move down one so he and Jenny could sit together.

The man glared at him. “What! What are you saying? Just sit down, kid.”

“Would you mind moving one seat over?” Henry repeated.

“Look, shut up and sit down or find somewhere else to sit!”

Unsure what to do, Henry shot an apologetic glance at Jenny, who stepped in front of him. “It’s okay, Henry,” she murmured as she leaned in to talk to the man herself. “Excuse me, I want to sit in that empty chair.” He growled at her but pulled in his legs as much as he could, which really wasn’t very much. Jenny slid by and collapsed into the empty seat.

Henry took the spot on the other side of the fat man, fuming; he could’ve killed him for being so rude and stubborn. Now he regretted not sending away for the Charles Atlas muscle building course advertised on the back of his comic books.
This might have been an entirely different story,
Henry thought.

They’d missed the first few minutes but settled in to watch the rest. Henry had seen Bing Crosby in movies before and really liked him. After eating half the bag of popcorn, he leaned forward to see that Jenny was absorbed in the movie. How would he get the popcorn to her? The back of the chair was too high for him to reach around. He leaned forward instead and tried passing the bag to Jenny over the huge man’s knees.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing? You’re not getting fresh with me are you?”

“No, no,” Henry gabbled, flustered. “I’m just trying to pass the popcorn to my girlfriend.”

The man grabbed the bag, spilling some of the popcorn and thrust it into Jenny’s hands. Turning back to Henry, he snarled, “Now just watch the movie and shut up!”

A while later, Henry was worried Jenny would be thirsty from the popcorn. He decided to risk passing the drink. Halfway across, the bottom of the cup brushed against the fat man’s knees. He swatted the drink from Henry’s hands, spraying pop down the neck of the person sitting in the seat in front of him.

The guy jumped up and danced around, trying to rid himself of the cold wet slither down his back that soaked his shirt and jacket, drawing the attention of those around him. The guy turned around and leaned over the back of his chair, towering over the fat guy, who cowered into his seat.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the wet man hissed. Before the fat man had a chance to explain what happened and pin the accident on Henry, the wet guy demanded two dollars to dry clean his clothes.

Sighing, the fat man reached into his pocket with great effort and managed to pull out some coins. “This is all I have.”

“Gimme it.” The wet man took the money and, pointing his finger at the fat man, warned him not to do anything so stupid again. He turned and sat down. It took several moments for him to find a comfortable position.

The fat man glared at Henry and spat, “Now see what you’ve done! Get bent, kid.”

The man in front motioned as if to turn around again, raising a fisted hand and the fat guy shut up.

Henry tried to concentrate on the movie but couldn’t. This was not cool at all. He’d wanted to put his arm over Jenny’s shoulder and hold her hand—maybe even kiss her cheek—but that sure wasn’t about to happen now. He couldn’t even see her over the big oaf beside him.

When the movie ended, Henry stood and waited in the aisle for Jenny. She was waiting for the fat person to move, but he didn’t budge, seemingly intent on watching the credits in their entirety, though Henry suspected he was doing it deliberately. The crowd streamed around Henry, pushing him along the aisle towards the exit.

In the lobby he waited again, but Jenny was nowhere to be seen. Finally the fat guy came out, but Jenny was not behind him. Reluctantly Henry approached him and asked where the girl beside him had gone.

“Oh, she went out down the other side. Hey, aren’t you the kid with the drink?”

Uh oh
. “No, no,” Henry replied, backing away.

“You owe me 45 cents!” the fat guy bellowed as Henry dashed outside.

People swarmed around the entrance. Henry looked everywhere for Jenny, but she was gone, vanished. He rushed to the trolley stop on 11th Avenue but before he got there the trolley they needed pulled away.

“She must be on it,” he muttered under his breath. “She knows we have to be home by nine-thirty.” He stood there, helpless and sweating, trying to think of what to tell her parents. “She came with me but somehow got lost.” Yeah,
that’d
fly. My God, what was he going to do? His eyes followed the trolley as it trundled out of sight down 11th Avenue.

He turned back towards the trolley stop, totally dejected— and there was Jenny on the bench, elbows on knees, heart-shaped face resting on her palms, a slow smile blooming on her lips. She was as pretty as Grace Kelly, the actress they’d just watched, and Henry’s heart skipped a beat. He ran across the street.

When he got close enough to hear her, she said, “I knew you wouldn’t leave me behind, so I wasn’t about to leave
you
behind.”

He plunked down beside her with a sigh of relief and slung an arm around her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Jenny. I got swept away with the crowd and couldn’t fight my way back.”

“That’s okay,” she said, patting his knee. “Well, now what do we do?”

He looked at his watch. “It’s ten past nine and we’ve missed the trolley. Guess we’ll have to walk home. I’ve done it before; it takes about half an hour.”

“Let’s get going, then.” She jumped up. “Which way do we head, oh great leader?”

“Straight ahead that way,” Henry pointed east.

The sun set behind them as they walked along, humming bits of “True Love,” the song Bing Crosby and Grace Kelly had sung in the movie. The clouds spilled fiery shades of deep orange and red across the evening sky.

“The skies here are sure beautiful,” Jenny observed.

“Yes, they are. It would be one of the things I’d miss most if I ever move.”

“In B.C, you’re so surrounded by the mountains you really don’t get to see these kinds of sunsets unless you’re by the ocean.”

They strolled along 11th Avenue, talking and laughing about the fat guy and the movie. Henry was just thinking that the lyrics they’d been singing described exactly the way he felt when a car crawled up behind them. Henry caught sight of the souped-up vehicle out of the corner of his eye and guided Jenny away from it, taking her place at the edge of the sidewalk. As it neared, he heard a bunch of guys yelling and snickering, out cruisin’ for trouble.

“Hey, is that Pederson with that babe?”

The car pulled up beside them, trolling the curb. Jenny glared at them.

“Wow, that’s a real cute dolly you got there, Pederson. How’d you manage that? Look! They’re even holding hands, all lovey-dovey. Can we hold hands, too? Hey, John, pull over and lemme out, I want some of that action.”

Man,
Henry thought,
here it comes
. He didn’t want to fight these guys, but there was no question he’d do so for Jenny.

As it turned out, he didn’t have to. A patrol car crept up behind the car and honked.

“Geez, it’s the cops! Haul ass, John!”

The car roared off.

The patrol car pulled up beside Henry. “Everything all right?”

“Yes sir,” Henry replied.
it is now
.

“Have a nice night, then.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Henry half-lifted his hand in farewell before reaching for Jenny’s again.

“Whew, that was close. I was ready to take my shoe off and throw it at that nincompoop,” she said.

Henry laughed, relieved those punks were gone. He prayed they wouldn’t see them again before they got home. As they neared the end of 11th Avenue, they passed a clothing store with bare mannequins. Clothes and an assortment of wigs were laid out on the floor of the showcase.

Jenny ran up to the large display window and pretended to be one of the mannequins, standing with her legs slightly apart and raising one arm to hang in midair. She raised the other arm, bent her elbow, and with a sharp movement, twisted her wrist and opened her hand, extending her fingers into the air. She held that position for a long moment.

Henry stood there mesmerized as she mimed a mannequin springing to life. First, she moved her head, then her hands and arms one at a time, then all together. She shaped her face in a variety of expressions. Henry was amazed by how she suggested action, character and emotion using only gesture, expression and movement. Her movements grew more and more exaggerated until finally she was miming the altercation between the irate man and the fat guy from the movie theatre. Already chuckling, Henry now laughed so hard he couldn’t stop. This only encouraged her, but Henry couldn’t help it; it was far more entertaining than the movie they’d just seen.

Henry couldn’t believe he was with such a wonderful girl, so spontaneous and full of life. He couldn’t imagine ever being without her. Jenny was beautiful, one of those people who could probably wear rags and still look lovely. She could be completely bald like the mannequin she had mimicked and still steal his heart. He wanted to be with Jenny forever. He would lay down his life for her.

The streetlight beside them flickered on and Henry started. “Jenny, I could watch you for hours—you’re great!—but we’d really better get going.”

She pulled a face like a stubborn little kid and stomped her foot, then laughed out loud and returned to real life.

“Oh, that was fun,” she said, grabbing Henry’s fingers, swinging their joined hands in the air the way she liked to as they walked.

At Winnipeg Street they turned south, the sound of their footsteps coming faster as they hurried a bit more.

“Oh, look,” Henry gestured, “there’s Northern Paint. I’ve got to pick up a couple more gallons on Monday to finish at Mr. Engelmann’s store. I want to make it just as nice as—or maybe even better than—the confectionary we were in the other day.”

“Yes, that
was
a nice place. It was clean, bright and well organized. And I loved how things were displayed, especially all the drinks in the glass coolers. Wow, if you could get Mr. Engelmann’s store looking like that, it would be quite an accomplishment.”

“Yeah, it sure would be nice to get new coolers. I’ll have to ask the guy who delivers the pop how much they cost.”

Henry had spent so much time thinking about how to improve the little grocery store and working to make it happen, he wasn’t surprised to find he had started to feel a little like it was his, too. And there was a whole list of things they could do.

“What are you thinking about, Henry?”

“Oh, nothing really. Just Mr. Engelmann’s store and what needs to be done.”

After a long pause, Jenny said, “You sure are an enterprising person, Henry. You’re going to be a really good businessman someday, and maybe an artist, too.”

Henry squeezed her hand. Jenny always managed to confirm his feelings without him saying a word.

As they approached Victoria Avenue, Henry slowed down.

Dead ahead was a parked car, the same one that had approached them earlier. It was stopped in front of Eddy Zeigler’s place. Odds were Eddy was one of the guys in the car.

“What’s wrong, Henry?” Jenny asked, curious and alarmed by the expression on his face.