Showdown At Stony Creek
I had moved from the city to this suburban town in 1925. If you blinked while moving down the main road, you'd miss it completely. I was a young lad of thirteen and ready to conquer the world. Now being the new kid in town, I had expected a scrap or two with the local boys, the normal "welcome" to any small town back then.
I ventured out on this beautiful morning, it was summer and we were off from school, to meet the locals and maybe prove my stuff. As I made my way up the dirt road, I noticed a group of fellas my age range, milling around a large oak tree. "Well, here goes", I thought, and strolled over to introduce myself and wait for a challenge. To my surprise, the lads were most cordial at making my acquaintance and welcomed me with friendly smiles and shared pop. As we chatted on about baseball and the summer adventures we all had that year, I began to notice that just about every lad there had a black eye, fat lip, or some contusion about their faces. I asked them what gang of thugs had they been tangling with, and they all looked at me and said, "Sandra".
"Cruel name for a boy", I retorted. The group lowered their heads and muttered that Sandra was in fact...a girl. "You got beat up by a girl", I gasped? They hung their heads and nodded embarrassed at the fact. I was told the horror stories of each lad who had faced her in combat and had fallen in defeat at her maryjanes. "You're pulling my leg", I exclaimed! They assured me that Sandra was real and I'd cross her boy hating path sooner or later. I shuddered at the thought of this "monster" who beat up the boys in town...just for the fun of it. I pictured a goliath female, probably fat as a house, who lumbered into these guys like the Hogan Street Railway trolley cars lumbered up and down Main Street. On the following day, while the group of us were roaming the dusty streets of town, we stumbled almost into her path. At the last second, Toby saw her and motioned us to take cover behind Mrs. Cranstan's hedges. We leaped behind them and waited for Sandra to lumber by. I waited to see if the ground would shake on her passing. Well hidden from sight, we waited and watched through the green cover that shielded us from this menace to all boys.
I heard her maryjanes approaching up the walk and shuddered again at the terrible sight I was about to witness. It should be noted that in the twenties, sneakers were not around in great numbers and the girls usually wore their older janes for play and the newer ones for school and church. Closer and closer she came...my heart thumped faster and faster as this monster came near. I almost laughed out loud at my own excitement, like waiting for an enraged bull to pass us by. I strained to get a good look at this beast as she made her way past. My attention was pulled away for a moment as I watched a vision of beauty glide by. A good look at her and I resumed my beast watch. We stayed put and then all was quiet. The lads motioned an all clear and we stood up and sighed a sigh of relief. I asked, "So where did she go"? The lads looked at me in confused stares and said, "You must have seen her!" "The girl that just went past us!", they said. "Her", I said??? "The pretty one in the yellow sun dress", I said??? They nodded a yes and we moved in the opposite direction of what I had seen as my target for love at first sight.
Sandra was perfect...well if you're thirteen in the twenties...that is. She had golden hair and a pretty face with a touch of freckles and a perfect nose. She walked with the grace of an angel and her frame was lean and feminine.
We made our way to the railroad tracks at the edge of town and settled in to watch the parade of trains that whizzed past. Back then, the railroads were the main means of transport between cities and towns. I looked at the battle bruised lads around me and silently shook my head. They shrugged and we moved our thoughts to other things.
When I got home that day, my parents were waiting for me, luggage in tow. My aunt had fallen victim to a serious illness and my parents were off to care for her and her three toddlers. Being thirteen, I was capable of manning the home front alone. My parents informed me of the situation, patted my head and headed off to the train station. They would return in about a week and would telegram me when they were ready to come home.
The following morning I decided to stay home and enjoy the man of the house status that I had been honored with by my father. I tended to the chores of the house early and treated myself to a cool lemonade under the oak tree that ruled the center of our back yard. Maybe living in Nowhere, Pa. wouldn't be so bad after all, I thought. The sound of footsteps approaching interrupted the morning's quiet majesty. I turned to see Sandra coming up the dirt road to my house. She was carrying a basket...to my front door! I snuck around the side of the house and watched her for a few moments as she knocked on the front door. My heart floated inside me with puppy love as I peered at her standing there. Finally, I made my presence known and greeted her with a friendly hello. Sandra turned around and I informed her that my parents were away for a few days, leaving her to deal with me. The blonde target of my boyhood interest introduced herself and handed me the basket. Her parents were on the "welcome to town committee", and she delivered the welcome baskets to new neighbors. I thanked her and her parents and offered her a cool lemonade. She accepted the offer and we enjoyed the apple pie that was part of the welcome basket and lemonade on the front porch.
I found it hard to believe that this dreamboat was a boy hater. As we chatted on about everything under the sun,she seemed eager to hear all about my life in the big city. Nothing special to me,I was used to the daily life of hustle and bustle. But to her my tales of riding the el trains and subways,screaming sirens of the police cars, and all that went with it,were enough to keep her fascinated. Our city had placed into service the first police cars just before we moved and yes they did have hand cranked sirens mounted to the sides of each car. Model Ts they were.
Sandra noticed the time and reluctantly announced her departure. I stared at her in that frilly white sundress and her maryjanes and white anklets as she stood up from her chair and turned to leave. I walked her to the road and we chatted along the way. Our dirt road led to the paved road which ran into town. We lived in the rural part of the town. On reaching the paved road I bid her farewell and said I'd see her around. Sandra turned and looked my right in the eyes. With an impish grin on her pretty face,she said,"Sooner than you think." I paused and before I had a chance to question her phrase,she was on her way.
I got up early and had everything done by nine o'clock. A good strong cup of java and a toasted Lucky Strike were my companions on the front porch. The morning had a chill to it when I had rolled out of bed but the morning sun was beginning to warm things up. I pulled off my heavy work boots and changed into my lighter shoes, opting to keep the heavy socks on for the day. They were snug in my old shoes but thick and padded in a way that made walking like stepping on clouds. I loosened the laces a bit and brushed off the dust from my work pants, which because they were almost always worn with boots, were a little more than knee high. The shoes were black lace ups that went to just above my ankles. Old dress shoes that I had worn out for everyday use. They were soft and comfortable, unlike when they were new; stiff and hard.
I was sucking in the last of my Lucky when I saw her. She was just standing there at the edge of the property, staring at me. I noticed that she wasn't wearing the typical outfit of the day for girls of that era. Instead, Sandra stood silent in an old tan pullover shirt, old brown trousers cut to knee length, her old Maryjanes and bulky white socks that she had pulled straight up to mid calf height. I adjusted my old grey pullover shirt as I stood up to greet her.
Sandra's hair was pulled tight into a bun at the back of her head and her eyes twinkled with a devilish glint. She walked to the porch and joined me,sitting down to my right. My offer of coffee and a smoke went untaken and she countered with an offer of her own. I still smile to this day when I recall it.
"I have a proposition for you. You and me will go out behind your house into that field over there, and have a fight. A fair fight with no rules or time outs,unless one of us is bleeding too much and we need to wipe off the blood to continue. If I win, I'll never say anything about it to anyone and just go about my business. If I loose, I'll be your girlfriend, if you want me, and make you the happiest boy in the whole county."
I nearly fainted at the thoughts of happiest boy in the county! Now it was dawning on me why the guys called her a boy hater and why they were all beaten up! All except Pierrie. I wondered about that boy. Only kid in town who wore a pinky ring. To each their own, I say. I grinned a sly grin and invited her to use the new indoor plumbing before we went over to the field. She gleefully accepted and I waited for my turn to empty my tank. We strolled into the quiet field,like we were going to a picnic instead of going into battle. Once in our private arena,we checked our persons for rings and earrings and the like. I tightened up my laces and she checked the little buckles on her janes. All set,we moved to a back to back position like duelists (her idea),and stepped off ten paces. On the tenth step,we turned and the fight began.
I waited for her lead and followed when she raised her graceful hands and balled them into two fists, just like a bare knuckle boxer of the era. The knuckles faced the boxer holding them in front in those days. She looked out of place in this position as we circled slowly and waited for the first punch to strike. I watched her from head to toe, keeping a safe distance, and marveled at how I wanted this maiden who now circled me and beckoned me to fight. Her janes slid across the ground and her body seemed to float on air.
I almost let down my guard watching her move. A fast moving fist pierced the air and whizzed past my ducking head! I backtracked two steps and got my mind back to the fight. I tracked her movements with my own and let loose a hard right jab. Sandra ducked and came back with a right uppercut that smacked into my side. I grunted and blocked her incoming left roundhouse, countering with a dead on left hook that slammed into her soft right side. She chirped out a cry of pain and backed away from me.
I paused for a second and decided to force the fight now. I plowed into her straight one with a left right combination that hit home on both parts. She squeeled out as I forced my fists at her. Sandra countered with her own barrage of lefts and rights. We stood there in the morning sun and swung away at each other with wild abandon. All punches were to the body at this point and neither of us were in any danger of being knocked senseless. Sandra leaned into me and we fought a fierce exchange of punches to our bodies at close range. Our heads rested against each others' shoulders as we slammed each other with uppercuts and hooks.
Sweat began to flow as she gripped me in a tight clinch and held me close to her. Panting deeply, Sandra brushed her face against mine in an almost romantic jesture. I kept my mind on my task and wrestled free of her,pasting a solid left jab to her shoulder. She jolted back a step and moved into me again.
I over stepped my confidence and took a hard jab to the cheek. It stung like a bee sting. Sandra followed with a followup roundhouse that I blocked and countered with a roundhouse of my own. It thudded into her stomach and she gasped before stumbling back. Tears welled up into her beautiful blue eyes as she glared at me and stood bent over for a time. I took to watching her again, a mistake,and never saw her right fist coming. It slammed into my face at the right cheek! Stars! I saw stars! This gal could punch! I staggered to safety and met her attack head on.
Sandra smelled blood and launched into me with both barrels. I ducked and weaved her assault as she erupted into a frenzy of slugs and misses. Half hit home as I counter attacked with wild uppercuts and roundhouses. The sound of fists hitting bodies filled the air! We slowly moved around the field and hammered away at each other without pause. One punch after another slammed into us as we fought in bitter rage. I felt her right fist collide with my left eye and the stars were back! A shiner for sure! I covered up and let her continue to batter my body until the stars left. My head cleared enough to slam her with my westside willy. A punch that I made up. When I saw an opening, I literally rammed my body into her's. As she jolted back a step and dropped her guard to regain her balance, I nailed her face with a hard right cross. It careened into her soft blue left eye and Sandra went down. Her supple body went into a fetal position as she wept freely. I waited and asked her if she had had enough. Sandra sobbed loudly but refused to give up. I looked at her eye and I had used too much force on the girl. Her eye was beginning to swell and puff up. It would be closed soon.
Sandra struggled to stand and squared up again. We circled and jabbed. I was careful to avoid her eyes from that point. Another clinch and we were soon on the ground locked together in a tight body punching wrestle. We rolled slowly across the green grass of the field locked in an exhausting conflict that had us gasping for breath and grunting out in pain. I felt our legs stiffen up as we strained to stretch them to painful limits. Our socks layed in heaps together and rustled as they were forced to rub together in this violent entanglement. I couldn't breath and Sandra seemed to be in the same predicament as we fought on in this vise like knot of bodies.
With the last strength I had left, I managed to roll Sandra under me and held on as we battled on in double bearhugs and leg locks. I heard a faint "I give up" from the wimpering girl and loosened my grasp. We rolled apart and layed on our backs in agony. After ten minutes, Sandra sat up and started to pull off her shirt! She had promised herself to me if I won the fight and now she was going to deliver!
I quickly pulled her shirt back on her and promised myself to her, but in an upright way. I would wait for us to be married before she and I would give ourselves to each other totally. After all,I was a gentleman. Two years later we were wed after a courtship that rivaled Camelot's and she never fought again. Unless you count our little "play fights" every Saturday morning for the last 70 some years.
The End