Saucer in the Dunes

21 Calling Dynamite Don!

Ronnie and I spent the rest of the day whittling items off our list and exploring around town. It was all still so new to me, and there were stories Ronnie told about nearly every house and building in town. Of course, he spent the night with his mom's permission. We actually did get it too. Ronnie called his mom at her first job; she was the attendant at the rest stop just outside of town. After that, she worked most nights at the diner. Ronnie did call her, though; I sat at his kitchen table and listened when he asked her.

I couldn't hear her answer, but I could tell by Ronnie's reaction that she agreed. Since my mom wouldn't be able to talk to her, I would have to be Ronnie's witness. Mom would surely buy it, and she did. Of course, she liked Ronnie. It was hard not to. He was polite. But you know, he was the type to be polite without giving you the creeps. Back in Atlanta, Chuck Haney, a tall, sandy-haired kid who lived another block up from me, always came around and was so nice to my mom that it gave her the creeps. It gave me the creeps too. It made me feel like he was messing it up for the rest of us kids. His hair was always combed and slicked back, and no matter what, his clothes were always clean. He volunteered way too much information to parents when it wasn't necessary. I could go on and on, but you get the idea. No one wants to be like that. Ronnie wasn't like that.

"Are you sure your mom said it was okay?" Mom questioned us, her eyes shifting back and forth between us, looking for signs of rehearsal.

There weren't any. We hadn't even talked about it after his mom agreed. We were too busy with other things, our plans for the night. We were going to call Dynamite Don ourselves! He was the man to talk to. We were going to take our questions straight to the top!

"Yes, Ma'am. I'm sure. She's going to be working both jobs tonight."

Mom looked down at him and smiled as she did when she was happy to help but sad inside.

"Well, okay, you boys, go get cleaned up some; why don't you? Your dad will be home soon, and I need you to set the table."

"What are we...."

"Spaghetti," she said, cutting me off and returning to the stove."

"Now get! Both of you!"

Ronnie looked excited. I was even excited. The smell made it even better when we dashed through the kitchen to my bedroom to stash all our junk and kick off our shoes.

"Spaghetti night, man! That's great!" Ronnie said.

I was excited too. We took turns washing our hands and faces before returning to the kitchen to set the table as mom asked. Ronnie helped me, and we were done in no time; Ronnie even folded the cloth napkins mom always used on spaghetti night. We read comic books until dad got home. We could hear him talking to mom in the kitchen. It wasn't too l poked his head in my room and told us to come and eat, which we gladly did. Mom's spaghetti sauce smelled up the house with the best smell, and by supper time, we were starving!

Over dinner, it didn't take mom and dad too long to agree to let Ronnie and I sleep in the den. We told them we wanted to watch monster movies. Mom rolled her eyes, but dad laughed and said it would be okay. Mom looked at him, but he told her it would be better than having us cutting up all night in my room, keeping them awake.

So far, so good; our plan was working out. We would set out our sleeping bags in the den and watch television. I would have my radio with us too. After mom and dad went to bed, we would turn on Dynamite Don. We would miss the first hour because he came on at ten at night. Dad didn't usually go to bed until eleven. I always heard him watching the news in their bedroom; then, sometimes, I would hear the Johnny Carson music before mom turned their television off.