FRESH YARN PRESENTS:

The Way we Were
By Susan Van Allen

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During breaks I insisted we had to keep rehearsing. We waltzed in the hallway, counting out the steps. Joanne Palucci walked by and barked at us -- "Shut up!" -- she was trying to learn her lines. Ray walked by and… I couldn't believe it. He talked to us. He was the senior AND the star. He told us he had terrible stage fright. That last year he threw up twice before every show. Once at home before his mother drove him over and once right in the trash can backstage before he had to go on. He said he wasn't a very good dancer. He asked David to help him with a turn. I stood back and helped by counting: "One two three, one two -"

"I told you guys to shut up!" Joanne Palucci flew around the corner screaming. And Ray told Joanne to shut her pie hole. Then the two of them laughed and Ray gave her a big hug. I thought when we were seniors David and I would be the stars of the show and David would hug me like Ray hugged Joanne.

But I wanted more than a hug or a waltz. I wanted the kiss. I waited for the last night of the show, after curtain call. That's when I knew everybody cried and hugged and kissed each other. It was a tradition. It had to happen. When the curtain finally closed for the last time, I got caught up in a big group of all the chorus girls grabbing each other. I broke away.

I looked around for David. He was walking towards me. We were both crying. Everybody was. Nobody wanted the show to be over. It had been the best time of our lives. David held me tight for a long time. We were both shaking and crying. I tried to move my head out of the hug and up towards him… Finally, our chins touched. And then… Ray Hoagland came up behind David. Ray grabbed David and turned him around. Ray's face was screwed up and red, he was bawling. I stood there alone. Everybody was hugging somebody else.

There was still the cast party. My mother drove us over. In the back seat, David whispered to me that Ray was so upset, he might not even go to the party. "Think about it," he said. "It's Ray's last play." So if it was sad for us, imagine how bad it was for Ray. David said he was afraid Ray might do something crazy. "Like what?," I asked. "I don't know," David whispered. "He might try to commit suicide."

When we got to the party, Ray was sitting on the porch steps with his head between his legs. I didn't know if he was throwing up or crying. David went straight over to him. Ray whispered something to David. David gave me a look like: "I have to talk to him." What could I do? I left the two of them out there. I tried not to hate Ray. I tried just to think what a good sensitive guy David was to help somebody out. It was amazing how he could do that.

Inside Mr. Marotti was banging on the piano and Joanne Palucci, as if she could read my mind was belting out "The Way We Were." I walked through the party acting like I was looking for somebody. I tried not to think all the bad thoughts coming into my head like: Why doesn't David just let Ray commit suicide? I don't care. He stunk in the play! Maybe I should try to commit suicide, then David would hold me and talk to me and kiss me. I walked towards the bathroom. There were probably razors there. Someone was barfing in the bathroom. The room next to it was dark and people were dry humping on the coats.

Back in the living room Joanne Palucci was on the second verse. "Ca-a-an it be-e-ee that it was all so-oo-o simple then…" How true. How simple it had been when it was just David and I in his basement on his bed. I kept walking, out the back door, out the driveway, home.

Lying in my own bed I thought about The Way We Were. I moved my fingers in the air like Barbra Streisand moved her fingers to push Robert Redford's hair away from his forehead and say, "Hubbell… Hubbell Gardner…" I still hadn't tried that finger move with David. I practiced it on my pillow.

Next chance I get, I'll do it to him. That'll get him. I couldn't give up yet.

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