Marty stayed home from school the next day on Friday, calling in to the office to excuse himself because he was “sick.” It rained all weekend, and he mostly stayed in bed; not even getting up to take a shower. Marge came in to see how he was and held her nose, insisting he clean himself up. She changed his bed while he was in the bathroom, sensing that her son was emotionally crushed, and was kind enough not to question him about it. The White family could never talk about heavy emotional stuff, anyway.
On Monday at journalism class, Michelle tentatively asked Marty how he was doing, and he made no attempt to hide his pain and disappointment. He could tell she was upset, too. The classroom was infused with school spirit, so they had no time to talk, but their eyes broadcast a soap opera full of unspoken melodrama. Basketball was big news again, and Drake came alive with forced cheer, in the annoying way all the people in town might start singing right on cue during a Broadway musical. The Varsity squad was doing very well, and Pirate pride was everywhere. While in years past there had been posters, now there were banners emblazoned with their mascot “Pirate Pete,” and cheerleader graffiti lauding their favorite players. Jocks with Varsity jackets were high-fiving each other in the halls, trailed by an entourage of frisky cheerleaders. Marty followed the season closely, only because the Jolly Roger had two star players on its staff: Russ and Mark. One might say the sports page was a little biased in their school paper, but success breeds enthusiasm the way feeding rats encourages them to have more babies.
Later that week came the shocking news that Bon Scott, the lead singer for AC/DC, died after a heavy night of partying. The news reports simply said he drank too much, but the DJ at KTIM learned from a ‘reliable source’ that he had aspirated his own vomit. What a way to go! He’d probably get to the pearly gates and St. Peter would ask him, “How did you die?” and he’d say he choked on his own puke, to which St. Peter would reply, “Take the Highway to Hell, my son.” Marty was still feeling down in the dumps, and actually considered Bon to be luckier than himself, who was clearly going to suffer a long and painful life. At least the singer avoided one hell of a hangover!
Marty took refuge in watching the Olympics on TV, which were in Lake Placid that year. President Carter had announced the U.S. would be boycotting the Summer Olympics in Moscow, so the Winter Olympics was chilled with political tension. Any contest pitting an American against a Soviet became an allegorical trial by combat. As it turned out, the U.S. hockey team made it to the medals round, where they faced a juggernaut Soviet team that had won the last 4 gold medals, and 6 of the last 7. The young, upstart American team – comprised of mostly amateurs – was given no chance against the heavily favored Soviets. Jimbo was back from his job in Southern California, and was excited about the contest, because he’d played a lot of high school hockey back in Minnesota. Throughout the match he became increasingly excited, as the Americans were hanging in there against a dominant, veteran team, and the thrill was infectious, as Mike and Marty wondered, is this really happening? The intrepid U.S. squad came from behind in the third period, and actually defeated the superior Soviet team, and the partisan crowd went completely bonkers! The announcer was hoarse and shouting, “Do you believe in miracles?” while Jimbo, Marge, Mike, and Marty were screaming and dancing like little kids. Susie stuck her head out the door and yelled for them to shut up, because she was talking to her boyfriend, and hastily ducked back inside to avoid a hail of empty beer cans. It was the most exciting sporting event any of them had ever witnessed, and Marty forgot his loneliness and broken heart for two precious hours.
He really had no reason to be so down – Michelle had said clearly that if she could choose anyone, it would be him. That should have been an inviting beacon for Marty, but instead it made him extremely depressed. He didn’t take any kind of rejection very well, and being so close and yet so far from the girl of his dreams was too much to bear – especially with Mike & Annie fornicating like jackrabbits in the same room where he was trying to sleep! Marty was frustrated beyond the capacity to be rational about his past failures, his lost opportunities in the present, and his future chances with Michelle.
Marge returned to work about the time that Voyager confirmed Saturn’s moon Janus, and she continued her two-faced life right where she left off. At the pet store she was alert and lucid, but at home she locked herself in her room often, and if she was sneaking in some beer she was getting better at it, because her kids never saw any. But she’d come out late at night and fix something to eat, just like she used to when she’d been drinking heavily before her operation. Marty considered confronting her, but it was tiresome to always be the parent to his parents. While together or separate, his mom and dad never spoke about their personal lives, and acted as if they were still trying to figure out how to relate to him after 18 years. At times it seemed as though they had emotionally abandoned him, and he lamented to himself that there was nobody with whom he could talk about his deepest feelings. Mike was away with Annie most of the time, and taciturn when he was home. Teenage Susie was too self-centered and emotionally immature to engage in a meaningful conversation. Julie was only around on holidays, and never called. Oddly, the only person he felt comfortable talking to was Chas, his younger friend from the art room at Drake, but he didn’t know him well enough to really open up. At home, when no one else was around, he listened to the saddest music he could find, like Early Morning from Les Dudek’s eponymous first album:
“Early morning’s on me, Lord, and I’m so lonely
It’s hard to face the mirror, much less face the day
I lie back down in bed, and smoke a cigarette instead,
And dream about a woman I may never see…
I’m lying down beside her meadows green.
Her eyes are on me like suns a-shining
Giving light to the shadows of my blues.
I love her laughing… love her eyes
And I wish that I could hold her for a lifetime,
But a dream’s a dream born to die.
Sometimes I just let my mind fade away,
Fade away.”
1980 was a leap year, so at the end of February, Marty got an extra day to suffer. Chas often helped him carry his stuff to art class during the time he was using crutches, and they talked about school, current events, music, and cartoons. He was very witty, and made Marty laugh with genuine verve, which was much needed at the time. Chas noticed his older friend was deeply depressed, and advised him more than once to give up his hopeless quest for Michelle. Marty wondered if he could give her up so easily… every time he saw her lovely eyes on the movie screen of his mind, he brightly remembered her laughter, or the kiss they shared, or that intimate hug… he still believed they had a chance! But then that life-giving star of a face turned away at the end of the picture, the credits rolled, and the theater went dark. Marty needed a lift, so it was a symbolic day for him the first time he left those awkward crutches home! He considered it a metaphor for outgrowing the broken heart on which he had been leaning for weeks, and it felt good to be free. He still wore the splint for walking, but took it off several times a day and exercised his leg to increase its strength and range of motion. He gave up listening to sad songs, and played some upbeat records on his stereo while rehabbing.
At school, Michelle noticed Marty was without crutches and congratulated him hesitantly; not certain what her reception would be. He couldn’t be mad at her, she was too stunning and uplifting to the spirit whenever she was around! In a grossly unsubtle hint, he announced he was trying to rehab his leg so he could go to the Senior Prom (not quite saying “with you”), and waited to see her reaction. She quickly responded, “Oh, I hope so,” and his heart soared with optimism once again! Too much faith can be a terrible thing when the desired outcome never materializes – like a hopeful signal fire that burns brightly, but no ship ever appears on the horizon. But Marty didn’t care. She said clearly that she hoped he would go to the prom, and she must have known there was only one girl with whom he wanted to go! At home he began trying out some dance moves to test his weak left leg, but moving laterally was still quite painful.
The Drake basketball team had a terrific season, and was playing for the league championship. They were so popular the gym couldn’t hold all the students who wanted to attend. Marty had planned to ask Michelle to go to the game, but tickets were sold on a first-come, first-served basis. He missed out because he had to work more often. He’d lost a lot of income due to his leg injury, and his family really needed the money. Their propane tank was empty again, and Marge was depending on his paychecks more and more. Still, there would be a large gathering outside the gym during the game, and he might meet up with Michelle there. After work, he parked the Apollo in the back of school (because he knew the parking lot would be a zoo), and limped carefully but briskly towards the gym. He could hear the roaring of the crowd before he got there, and then he started to see bleacher creatures and other students on the fringes, smoking pot and drinking beer – right on campus! Granted, school was not in session, but that was a risk Marty was not willing to take, so he waved off the joints and bottles they offered him and gimped on.
Outside the gym, a huge crowd of students (and even some older folks) had gathered, straining to look in the doors and reacting to every cheer from the home crowd. It was a close game right down to the end, but the Pirates prevailed, and the place went wild! One would think they had won the NBA Finals instead of a high school league championship, the way people celebrated in the parking lot! The fans cheered, and lingered inside for a long time after the game was over, and Marty watched carefully for Michelle coming out of the gym, but didn’t see her. The next day in journalism class, the two heroes of the game, Russ and Mark, proudly held court while all the females – Michelle included – basked in the glow of their virility. All the male rah-rahs were panting at their feet, too, while the nerds sat in the corner and criticized the blind adulation of the masses for sporting events that weren’t even important – they were just fantasies to keep people distracted from the real issues facing society, like hostages and imminent war. The geeks gnashed their teeth on well-chewed pencils and plotted their antisocial revenge.
Later on, in the North Coast Section playoffs, the Pirates did quite well, winning the first two games going away. That turbo-charged the spirit engines at Drake, with formerly apathetic students jumping on the bandwagon. Tickets sold out quickly for the tournament, and especially for the finals, which became like trying to get seats for the Super Bowl. Marty didn’t see any of those games because he had to work, but the staff of the Jolly Roger was electrified, and could talk of nothing else. His old friend from Lagunitas School, Carl, was the de facto editor because he basically did all the work. Carl was a high-energy kind of guy, and became a “mascot” of the basketball team with another Valley boy named Jeff. They dressed in white overalls and green and black striped shirts, and resembled two “wild and crazy guys” getting down on the farm, with their fluffy hair and white Converse sneakers. For a counter-culture cartoonist like Marty, it was downright ludicrous. But the chicks loved it, so what did he know?
The championship game was a tremendous disappointment, because the Pirates lost two of their starting players to injuries before halftime. Even with sophomores in their places, they lost a very close game by only three points! Missing one starting player in a final was bad, but two was devastating, and yet their team almost pulled out a miraculous victory! Nothing else was discussed all over school the entire week. The hostages in Iran were forgotten. The war in Afghanistan was no longer important. The Democratic and Republican primaries garnered no interest whatsoever. Instead, the two plays that injured their fallen heroes were discussed and debated over and over, ad nauseum. Russ and Mark sat next to each other in journalism class as if they were raised on a dais, surrounded by a crowd of fawning (mostly female) hopeful admirers, seeking absolution for their unworthiness to be in the presence of greatness.
Russ displayed an arm cast as a purple heart from combat, and Mark passed around his trophy for making the all-tournament team. They really were terrific athletes, and nice guys, too, which made it all the more difficult to mock them. The less popular life forms on the lower levels of the gene pool looked up to the light where the big fish swam, detesting that their dubious attributes weren’t appreciated. At one point Michelle actually sat on Mark’s lap, while Matt and Dan’s flashbulbs illuminated them as movie stars. Marty was jealous that his place as the star of the newspaper had been usurped by a couple of fluffy jocks who could barely put two sentences together! Meanwhile, the paper received a letter complaining about his previous column, and Carl was duty bound to print it, so it appeared on “his” page, next to Nertz and The White Pages. Marty had the same problem as any media superstar, and that was: how to stay relevant. It was difficult to gain any traction for erudite satire when everybody was yakking about the sports page.
And so, Marty retreated further into his cave of fantasy, exploring the murky depths of insignificance. He just didn’t fit in anywhere. Too smart for the bleacher creatures and party animals, but too poor and insecure for the high-class rah-rahs and cheerleaders. He still felt as if he had something to give to the world, but sadly, it did not appear to be a gift that it wanted.