The Last Fling of Freedom

Roz and Ben were both band geeks. Roz was a senior and played the clarinet. She sat in first chair, the row ahead of Ben, all the way on the right. He played the trumpet but preferred goofing-off. Even so, he was good enough to be third chair despite being only a sophomore. That allowed him to sneak looks at her during band practice. Her cheeks reminded him of Red Delicious apples when she played.

The band director, Mr. Reeves, considered Roz his star pupil. She served as one of the drum majors in the marching band and guest-conducted the symphonic band on occasion. Everyone thought she would get a scholarship to attend a university that had a prestigious music program. But then she met Michael at a church camp, which complicated things. He had already graduated the year before and was going through basic training to become a Marine.

They spoke once a week on the phone. Roz sat on the shag carpet of her bedroom floor and wrapped the coiled phone cord around her index finger while Michael promised her the moon. Whatever that meant. No one at school had ever met the guy, not even her closest friends. That was kind of weird, but no one had cause to say anything. She was happy, ebullient, and funny. Everyone liked her.

Ben, on the other hand, was a show-off. And he had a big mouth. Everything about him felt like the opposite of Michael, who was clean-cut and courteous. Ben had sideburns and cussed with grandiloquence. They didn’t hang out with the same people, even among their fellow band brethren, and had barely noticed each other the year before. He first caught her eye in the middle of a bad day.

Band camp always happened in the middle two weeks of August, before everyone returned to school for the fall semester. You could tell who was in band by inspecting the school ID photos taken at class registration. Their faces looked nuclear after spending so much time outside, marching in the sun. They started in the morning and didn’t finish until the afternoon. When they weren’t rehearsing music for the program, they drilled glide steps and about-faces. It was a big challenge to keep everyone in step while learning the choreography for “The Show.”

As senior drum major, the task fell to Roz to keep the marchers in line. Sixty-four young musicians were milling about in an open field behind the high school, shirtsleeves rolled up to the shoulders, lazily holding their instruments to the side. Mr. Reeves stood in a scissor lift overlooking the unfolding disaster on the field. They were in the middle of their second run-through, and no one could hit their spots. Frustrations had reached a boiling point.

“Atten-hut!” Roz shouted.

The band slouched rather than snapped to attention.

One of the percussionists cried, “This sucks. Can we get a drink yet?”

Murmurs of discontent spread through the ranks.

Exasperated and quite thirsty herself, Roz said, “No, not yet.”

She moved down the zigzagging line of brass players, who were supposed to have formed an arc, and began repositioning them to the correct spot. She arrived at Ben, who stood at attention with his trumpet held out in front of him. Sweat matted down his hair.

“Is there a problem, boss?”

“Yes.” Roz grabbed his shoulders and pulled him to her left. “You need to come two steps this way.”

Although she had barely touched him, he followed her lead like a lurching drunk. He careened into the person beside him, and one after the other fell like dominoes. Roz had felt on the verge of crying for most of the afternoon. This silly pratfall of his, however, made her spill tears of joy. She started laughing so hard she snorted.

Ben got up and brushed himself off with a theatrical flourish. He winked and said in a booming voice, “Come on, guys! Quit clowning around! Let’s get this right.”

It was an act that stayed in Roz’s memory long after band camp ended. A few weeks later, at the homecoming football game, they performed the half-time show to perfection. She had never felt so proud.

After the game, a bunch of band members went to Denny’s for pancakes and coffee. Ben and Roz ended up squeezed next to each other in a booth. It wasn’t until a few hours later that Ben realized his ride to the restaurant had already left, and he had no way home.

“I can give you a lift,” Roz offered. The two of them stood alone in the parking lot. There were thousands of stars above them, but at that moment, they only had eyes on each other. “Come on.”

They hopped into her truck. It was a rust bucket with a camper shell, but it still ran well. Except the tank was low on gas.

Ben patted his pockets. “Sorry, I don’t have much money on me.”

“Got a dollar?” She turned the ignition and switched the heater on max, which started blasting cold air.

“I think so.”

“Then we can get a buck of gas.”

Ben didn’t think she literally meant a buck of gas, but when they pulled into the Moto Mart, that’s exactly how much she put into the tank. Ben watched her feather the pump so that it landed on $1.00. She turned to him and beamed with pride.

“Nice. It’s good luck when that happens.”

With the extra fuel, the two of them took the long way to Ben’s home, traversing unlit back roads and singing along to a Beach Boys cassette that Roz said had never been removed since she bought it.

The headlights glowed like owl’s eyes on the garage door as they sat in Ben’s driveway, figuring out how to say goodnight to one another.

“Thanks for the ride,” Ben said.

“You’re welcome.”

“I had a great time.”

“Me too.” Roz paused. “Say, wanna go see a movie next weekend?”

“Sure,” Ben said. “Sounds fun.” He got out and looked back in. “So…how does this work? Should I call you or you call me?”

Roz tore a tiny square of paper from an envelope and wrote down her number.

“Here. Does that answer your question?”

They decided to see an animated film about misfits destined for bigger and better things. It wasn’t very good or memorable, save for one moment somewhere around the middle of the movie when Roz and Ben’s hands touched. Calling this an accident would be disingenuous. Their mutual attraction was palpable, felt deep in the bones, pulling them inexorably together. But that first touch was the mere brush of a caterpillar, pinky to pinky, delicate enough to be almost nothing. Until neither of them moved away. Their fingers continued to exchange pleasantries during the big action sequence before becoming intertwined by the end.

They exited the cinema in a state of euphoria. The chilly evening autumn air had them racing hand-in-hand to her truck. Once inside, Roz kicked on the heater. They rubbed their hands together and watched their breaths form dragon’s smoke.

“Come here,” Roz said. “I want to tell you something.”

Ben scooted across the bench seat.

“Yeeesss?”

She brought her mouth next to his ear. He could feel the puff of air from her warm breath. It almost tickled. Then, she plunged her tongue in.

Ben had been fortunate enough to kiss a couple of girls in his young life, and those had been immensely pleasurable experiences, yet nothing prepared him for this. As Roz worked her tongue around his earlobe and the entrance to his ear canal, Ben’s nerve centers lit up like a pinball machine. A moan escaped Roz’s lips, and Ben became very aware of the erection in his pants.

They kissed then, their tongues darting and dashing in a dance. The truck hadn’t finished heating up, yet both of them were already warm. Roz removed her coat, revealing a white t-shirt. Her rosy cheeks reminded Ben of those offhand moments in band practice when he’d glimpse her during a solo, somehow both present and transcendent. A part of her would remain distant and inaccessible.

It’s worth remembering that Ben had never had his heart broken. At least not yet. He closed the door to his bedroom after she dropped him off that night, feeling so light he wasn’t sure if his feet were still touching the floor. He never told anyone about these little rendezvous, not even his closest friends. What he and Roz shared only belonged to them.

The rest of the fall semester slipped away with sporadic contact between them. They were both busy leading the lives of teenagers. Roz stayed active with all sorts of extra-curricular activities. Ben finished his homework in class and spent his evenings playing computer games. After his sixteenth birthday, he got a job at a restaurant washing dishes to save up for a car.

A friend from band, Sarah, invited Ben to a party. She played the oboe. They didn’t usually hang out but had gone to the same church since forever. His mom thought it would be rude if he didn’t at least make an appearance.

With a reluctant groan, Ben said, “Fine.”

Upon dropping him off, Ben’s mother noticed a familiar truck parked in front of the house.

“Oh, look, your friend’s here.”

“Looks that way,” Ben said, unbuckling his seatbelt.

“Let me know if you need a ride home, okay, pumpkin?”

Ben nodded. “Good night, mom.”

A sign at the front door said to go around back. Ben lifted the latch to the wooden fence, then followed a stone path leading to a large fire pit surrounded by people roasting marshmallows. The sliding glass door opened and out stepped Roz. They both froze when they saw one another.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“It’s been a while.”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t know if you were gonna come,” Roz said.

Ben curtseyed. “Here I am.”

Their fingertips touched for the briefest of moments, the most discreet public display of affection. They joined the others around the fire. There was laughter, mirth, and music. The demands of socializing kept Roz and Ben apart for most of the night, save for a brief period when the others went inside to warm up. The two of them sat for a few extra minutes, silently watching the dying firelight cast liquid shadows on their faces.

“It’s cold,” Roz said. Her cheeks were rosy red, delicious.

“Wanna join the others?” He rose to offer her his hand. She took it.

Instead of heading inside, where it was bright and noisy, they relocated to the deck. Ben hopped up on the railing. She stood a short distance away, wearing a distracted expression.

“Come ‘ere,” Ben said softly.

She drew in close. Their body heat mingled while their breaths blew steam into the air.

“We can’t keep doing this,” Roz whispered.

“What?” Ben asked, rubbing her arms and shoulders. “This?”

Their foreheads came together. “I like you, Ben.”

Ben realized he had been holding his breath. “I like you too, Roz.”

She sighed.

Before either could speak again, a few people came back outside, including Sarah and her boyfriend. He was about to join the Navy.

“We were wondering where you were!” Sarah said.

Roz and Ben inched away from one another and greeted them.

“Are you guys hungry? We still have a ton of food left. My mom made taco dip.”

“Oh, that sounds yum!” Roz could turn the enthusiasm on with a switch.

“Want a plate?” Ben offered. “I need to go inside anyway.”

He returned several minutes later — having been waylaid by some friends on his way to the bathroom — carrying a paper plate piled high with chips and dip.

“That’s the funniest thing,” Sarah was saying to Roz. “Who could have guessed we’d both be engaged to military boys named Michael?”

Everyone seemed to look at Ben, who suddenly felt very warm. He blinked a few times. Ben could be naive, but he wasn’t dumb. Band kids gossiped as much as anyone. Still, it stung to hear it spoken out loud like that. In a moment that called, in retrospect, for acerbic wit, Ben could only manage to say congratulations.

Things between Roz and Ben probably should have ended there. That would have been the sensible thing to do. And indeed, Roz tried like hell to be faithful to her betrothed. She spoke to him with increasing frequency on the phone, especially once the finish line of graduation appeared on the horizon. Michael told her he couldn’t wait for them to be reunited. After they got hitched, he said, they’d settle down, buy a house on a tract of land out in the countryside, and start a family. Sometimes it still felt like a dream, even when she looked at the ring on her finger.

But plans were being made, real ones involving dress fittings and appointments with the caterer. The duty fell to Roz to take care of all these tasks, no matter how big or small. It was exhausting work. She intended to go to the florist right after school. That would be one less item on her to-do list.

It was a warm day. Roz rolled the windows down and the sleeves of her t-shirt up, just like at band camp. There was always a mad dash of cars trying to exit the school parking lot, so she preferred to wait until it emptied before leaving. That’s when she noticed Ben standing outside the gym.

“Hey!” She waved. He came walking over with his backpack slung on one shoulder. “Need a lift?”

She couldn’t understand why she called out to him then, even many years later. Maybe it was for solace or a sense of closure, she reasoned, a way of trying to twist a frayed end together. She loved Michael. She knew that, deep down inside. But why did she feel so comfortable around Ben? Why did it feel like everything just clicked when they were together?

“I dunno.” Ben peered through the passenger window. “How far can a buck get me?”

“There’s only one way to find out,” Roz said. “Hop in.”

This final joyride of theirs never felt like it would be the last time. These country roads didn’t lead anywhere. But the sprawling skies ahead of them sure felt like freedom at the time.

“Looks like it might rain,” Ben observed, sticking his head out the window like a dog.

“Hrm.” Roz checked the time. “Maybe we should start heading back.”

“You hungry? I could go for a bite to eat.” They looked at each other. “Besides, I don’t have anywhere else I need to be.”

After picking up burgers from the drive-thru, Roz took Ben to her house. He’d only seen the outside of it once and wasn’t sure he could have found his way back by memory alone.

The living room was upstairs from the entrance. Roz handed Ben the bags of food and said she’d be back in a minute. She went downstairs to the kitchen to say hi to her dad, who was home all the time on disability. Ben sat on the sofa across from the TV and wondered which room down the hall belonged to her.

When she returned, they ate and watched an episode of Jeopardy! The mood was light, playful. Ben went to check out the movie collection near the TV. Roz sat on the cream-colored carpet. She’d removed her engagement ring and changed into a plain white t-shirt. Her hair, usually pulled back in a ponytail, hung loose past her shoulders.

“Ben,” she said softly. She leaned back, beckoning him with a finger. He crawled over. They started making out. He grazed a finger across her waistline, where she was usually ticklish. Instead of squirming and squealing for him to stop, Roz stayed silent save for her steady breathing, her gaze inscrutable.

“This synonym for ‘burning’ is the name of a ‘chamber’ where rockets burn fuel,” the game show host declared. “Michael.”

“What is oxidation?”

Ben scoffed. “What is combustion?”

Roz raised a hand to Ben’s face, guiding his lips back to hers. The intensity of their kissing increased. For a few minutes, the rest of the world became out of focus, a blurred photograph. With Roz laying on her back, Ben traced his tongue along the length of her neck before finding her earlobe and giving it a nibble. Their legs became twisted together, a slow and steady grind, culminating in Ben coming in his pants.

In the afterglow of orgasm, they remained for a few minutes in each other’s embrace on the carpet. Roz’s eyes were huge and caring. She didn’t say anything derogatory, nor mention the sticky fluid that got on her shirt. She got changed, then they rode most of the way to Ben’s house in silence.

“Here we are,” she said, pulling into his driveway.

“Here we are,” he repeated. He noticed Roz had put the ring back on her finger.

“I have something to ask you, Ben.”

“Sure,” he said. “Anything.”

She bit her bottom lip. “Would you come to my wedding? I know it’s…”

“I’ll be there,” he said, swallowing. The tears would come later. For now, they smiled at one another, two teenagers holding hands, not quite ready to let each other go, even though they both knew it was time.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”