Don Edrington's Home Page     Shy Guy from Hollywood High     Brief Bio   All Stories

    There was a time when I used to frequent the AOL Story & Poetry Boards. These boards offer writers a place to post their short stories and/or poems, as well as to read and reply to the postings of others.
    I discovered that the boards not only give one an outlet for his or her urge to write, they can be a marvelous place to meet other writers. I made some wonderful friends who changed my life in many ways. (More about that another time.)
Delores     I also discovered that much of what the writers posted would be about incidents in their own lives. So I decided to do likewise. As for our subject matter, a new "topic" would be suggested each week. One week the topic happened to be Panic.
    Well, I've had a few panicky moments over the years, and decided to write about some of them. The following is one I remember rather vividly. (Some names, not surprisingly, have been changed to protect privacy.)

1955 — Signs by George — Sherman Oaks, California

The call came when I was at work.

"Don, I need to talk to you. Very important. But it would be best if we weren't overheard. Can you call me back from the phone booth on the corner?"

"Sure," I said. He gave me a number and said to call ASAP.

"Oh God," I thought. "I'm too young to be a daddy."

It had been three months since our last date and I thought it was over. Not that I didn't care for Delores. I liked her a lot. But she'd begun to get serious. And she had two kids.

I liked the kids, but was not ready to be a father.

Delores's dad and I used to work together. But he'd found a job closer to his apartment in downtown Los Angeles. He was a widower and Delores was divorced. I met her one night when Raleigh invited me to dinner.

After dinner we played with the kids until their bedtime — then the three of us played cards and told jokes. It was a fun evening.

Then it started to rain.

It was a long drive back to Sherman Oaks and Raleigh knew my old car had threadbare tires.

"Stay here tonight," he said. "You can sleep on the sofa."

"Thanks, Raleigh," I said. "I appreciate that!"

Delores was smiling. She seemed pleased that I'd been invited to spend the night.

After we all said our goodnights I tried to get comfortable on the sofa — but couldn't sleep. So I began thumbing through a magazine.

About then Delores appeared and said "Hi."

"Can't sleep either?" she asked. "I have the same problem — too warm. May I join you?"

I didn't know what to say.

Her sheer nightgown didn't leave much to the imagination and she was carrying a couple of sheets of paper.

"Did you know I like to draw?" she asked.

"Uh — no, I didn't."

"Would you like to see the pictures I was drawing in the bedroom? Bet you'd like them better than that magazine."

"Uh — okay."

She handed me one of the drawings. It showed a naked couple smiling at each other.

The guy had an oversized erection.

Now I really didn't know what to say.

Then she handed me the other drawing.

In this picture, the couple was fully engaged in copulation.

"I figure if you're going to draw," she said with a provocative smile, "you might as well draw something interesting."

I was speechless.

Then she said, "It's hot in here. Why don't you take off your clothes?"

"Uh — what about your dad?" I asked, "and the kids?"

She lowered her lashes and said, "Don't worry about them."

"But," I said, "I don't have any — uh, you know — protection."

"Don't need it," she smiled. "I know what time of the month it is. Now just come over here and relax."

Well, that was how it began.

But I thought it had ended.

Nonetheless, I had to make that call.

My palms were sweating as I dialed the number Raleigh had given me.

"Capitol Signs," an unfamiliar voice answered.

My mouth was so dry I was scarecly able to say, "Raleigh Bernard, please."

"Just a moment."

The ten or twenty seconds it took for Raleigh to get to the phone seemed like an eternity.

"Hey, Don," he said, "glad you were able to call. Didn't want to be overheard — but I have something to tell you."

I just gulped and didn't even try to speak.

"Guess what — they need a good journeyman here at Capitol. And they pay better than where you are now."

"Interested? You could start right away."

"And you can see why I wanted you to call from somewhere other than work."


After posting the above story, I decided that Delores deserved more than this.
As mentioned earlier, I used to post on both the Story and Poetry boards.
So I posted the following as a poem:


I wrote about Delores
And of the night we met.

But there's more to the story
My heart just can't forget.

She filled my nights — but there was more —
She had an earthy charm.

And I was proud when we went out
To have her on my arm.

She had a regal bearing.
She had a knowing smile.

She had a certain sense of pride.
Let's face it — she had style!

But when I took her to the place
Where I then lived with friends.

Some said, "So long, we gotta go."
And didn't make amends.

And later at a night club
We'd get more than a glance

And hear the stifled whispers
When we got up to dance.

I feel the pain we felt back then
As now I'm looking back.

The year was 1955.
My lady friend was black.

So what went wrong? Why did we split?
Did color do us in?

I wish I knew the answers
To the mysteries of the skin.

I know I'm not a racist
But relationships are tough.

We then were victims of the times
And felt we'd had enough.



(But I still have feelings of uncertainty and guilt about this — even to this day.)



Click for a story about some time spent with another black partner.
Comments or questions about any of my stories can be sent to:
 pcdon DonEdrington@gmail.com