by Stanley L. Daniloski (bio at end of story)
She was in the same grade as I but in another classroom, and every boy in our school was in love with her. When classes let out at the end of the day, a bunch of the older boys would crowd the corner where she had to pass, and elbow each other around jockeying for a position close enough to get her attention. I thought the whole spectacle seemed a throwback to some primitive mating dance, but the lovely Ericka seemed quite oblivious to the commotion she generated on the sidewalk each day. A casual observer would suspect that it was her deep blue eyes and fair complexion that attracted the attention, but that would only be a part of it. Her distinct German accent is what drove all the guys wild — including me! Because she was so popular in school, she constantly had people around her, and I never really had any opportunities, or excuses, to speak to her. Many afternoons I found myself behind Ericka and her entourage as I walked home from school at a safe distance behind her circus. Never the bold person, I was content to admire her from a distance.
Her family came from Germany, and they lived at one end of a street of row homes. I lived on the same block but on the opposite side of the street at the opposite end. One evening after school, I was walking home with my best friend. Ericka and her group was a block ahead of us. My friend and I were deep in conversation on our favorite topic - cars - when suddenly we caught up with Ericka’s group. I saw Ericka look at me for a few long seconds, and I felt uncomfortable. My buddy kept jabbering at me, and I tried to pay attention to him, but at the same time I was watching her from the corner of my eye. I could tell she was a woman on a mission as she worked her way through the crowd toward me. She put her hand on my arm and asked point blankly, “Vhy do you not talk to me?�
She caught me off guard and I was tongue-tied. “Are you shtuck-up?� she added.
Before I could answer either question, my friend glibly chimed in, “He’s a lis’ner, not a talker.� This drew a laugh from the circus.
“Valk vit us,â€Â? Ericka coaxed. She offered us a candy from a white paper bag. The candy had a delightful coffee taste, and Ericka asked if we liked it. I made some silly remark that I’d be her friend forever as long as she had the candies. In return I got a smile that could melt a tray of ice cubes, and she slowly handed me another. Before I knew it, we had arrived at our street. The circus, of which I was now a part, disbanded on the corner. Walking up the street to my house, I observed that the trees on our block looked a lot greener that day; even the sky was bluer. I also had the sensation that I had grown a foot taller. Being inexperienced with puppy love, I chalked this phenomena up to a high from the coffee candy.
I traveled with the circus for a week or more before the school year finally ended. I hated to see it end because I was just getting to know Ericka and now we both were headed to different high schools in the fall. The month of June passed, but my thoughts were still preoccupied with Ericka. Sometimes I’d get on my bike and ride past her house hoping to perhaps get a glimpse of her sitting by the front window, or in the back yard.
I received an invitation to a July birthday party for a girl who lived across the street from me, and who was also friendly with Ericka. I attended the party and met several people that I knew, including you know who! We danced and played games, including Spin the Bottle, a fun game made even funner because I got to kiss Ericka seven times. (But then, who was counting?) That evening we talked a bit and Ericka told me about Germany and the places her family had lived before coming to Maryland. Her dad’s job caused them to relocate every so often. Since her family moved to the U.S. when she was only six years old, I was curious as to how a bi-lingual mind operated, and I asked if she thought in German or English.
“Churman,� she answered.
Chihuahua! How I loved that accent!
Some days later I walked to the corner drugstore to pick up a prescription. I had to pass Ericka’s house, which was three doors up from the drug store. Giddiness swept over me at the thought that she might appear in the doorway at any moment. I tried to be cool, so I kept my eyes straight ahead and hurried past the house. The next thing I know I was lying on the ground. I shook the cobwebs out of my head, and waited for a quick update from my brain. The first thing it said is that I was tackled or blocked by an unknown force.
Somewhere behind me a shaky voice asked, “Are you alright?�
I recognized that accent. Great! Here I am on my knees with my head in the gutter and my butt up in the air, and wouldn’t you just know who’d show up? My heart did flip-flops as I got up and turned to face the voice. Relief sweep over me when I saw it wasn’t Ericka; it was her younger sister, Anna.
Anna was a hyperactive girl who ran where ever she went, and I just happened to be in front of their home when Anna decided to come flying out her front door. She had a habit of taking a running jump from inside the vestibule and leaping over the three white marble front steps onto the pavement. Unfortunately for me, Anna had great timing and broad sided me.
My side and elbow hurt and I scraped a wrist. I felt like a truck hit me. Then suddenly, there was Ericka…oh, yeah, and her Mom, too. I tried to act like I was ok but my wrist was bleeding. Anna apologized over and over. Her Mom took me in the house and put a bandage on the scrape. I tried to look everywhere except at you know who, but I could feel her eyes on me. On my way out, Ericka offered me a candy from a dish on the table. The pleasant aroma from the coffee candy floated on the air as she let her shoulder touch mine and we walked to the door together. I quickly forgot about the pain.
Days later, on a warm summer evening in July, I was sitting on our front steps with my dad, feeling good about life and talking baseball. I didn’t see Ericka and her girlfriend coming up the street. By the time I recognized her, she was walking up to us. I think I may have turned a little red when I introduced her to my dad. Then she dropped the bomb! Ericka’s family was moving. Her father’s company was relocating to Virginia. To say I was stunned, or numbed, is understatement. Devastated may be a better word.
The days shot by too quickly for me, and then that dreadful, hot, August morning arrived. I watched from my front steps as the moving van pulled up and four men began carrying out furniture and boxes. I sat heartbroken on my front steps. The air was humid and sweat ran down my face. I looked at the trees. They didn’t seem very green that day, and the sky was certainly not blue. Finally, Ericka and her family got into their automobile and followed the van up the street past my house where they stopped for the red traffic signal on the corner. I strained to get a last look at Ericka inside the car while they waited for the light to change green. Ericka leaned out the window and motioned me to come to the car. The light changed as I got to the car. Without a word, she smiled and handed me a small box. I got back to the sidewalk and looked inside. It was filled with our favorite thing.
When I looked back up, I saw Erica blow a kiss at me from the back seat of the car before it turned the corner and she left my life.
Read the sequel, “Five Years Later”
© Stanley L. Daniloski. All Rights Reserved.
Finalist - Puppy Love by Stanley L. Daniloski
Stan is the oldest of five brothers born and raised in East Baltimore, and is himself the father of two sons. He belongs to Local #2610 U.S.W.A. and has been an employee at Bethlehem Steel’s Sparrows Point Works since 1959. In his free time, his hobbies are genealogy and country and western dancing. He began writing as a hobby about five years ago. One of his non-fiction stories was accepted for a steelworker’s anthology. Presently, he is working on a family narrative. “Puppy Love” is Stan’s first attempt at fiction.
Editor’s Note: “Puppy Love” was chosen for the first round for the following reasons: First, for correct punctuation, no spelling errors and excellent writing. As we read this story, we felt the writing - and the plot - would be a great sell in the younger teen market. This is what made this story stand out. This was an entertaining read with a sad, but encouraging ending. The dialogue was charming, and we both wondered what would happen to these teens as they grew up.
