My Boots were made for Walking

My Boots were made for Walking

Suzanne Marsh

Summer of 1966

“Mallory, there is girl that I want to date. I know that this is really rotten timing.”

“Rotten timing? I have my prom dress, you said you were taking me. Now

what am I supposed to do? I can't return the prom dress back! You are making me

look like a fool.”

The radio in his baby blue Mustang began to blare, to drown me out no doubt. Then I realized the song was These Boots were made for Walkin, at that instant I decided that so were my boots made for walking. The traffic light turned red. I grabbed the car door handle, shoved with all my might, got out and slammed the door so hard I heard glass cracking. I didn't care, this was the last straw. I walked about a mile back home. Stomping in the door, and up to my room. I knew Mom was looking at Dad as if to say: 'now what'. I slammed my bedroom door, locking it. I did not want to talk to Mom, not at this point. She makes that cooing sound she always made when trying to calm me. I did not want to be calm, I wanted to destroy Mark MacDonald. It might take the rest of my life but that was my plan.

Later that night, Mom knocked on the door:

“Mallory, open this door. I don't what's wrong but we need to talk.”

Damn that was the last thing I wanted to do. My eyes were red from crying. My heart was broken and I had no date for the prom. I opened the door, I knew I couldn't avoid my Mom forever. She walked over to me, placed her arms around me as I sobbed.

“Mom, oh Mom, Mark he...” I could not even get the words out I was hurt and humiliated.

Mom held me as she quietly asked:

“What happened Mal? What ever it is we talk about it.”

Between sobs:

“Mom, Mark asked another girl to the prom, when he said he was going to take me. I can't face

friends, not without a date. Why? Why did he have to do that now, two days from the Prom.”

Mom took a deep breath:

“Mal, Mark seemed like an earnest young man, maybe there is something more to this.”

I shook my head no:

“He told me he wanted to date another girl; period end of quote.”

Mom smiled as she stood up:

“Mal, time heals all wounds, and this will pass. You'll find someone new and you will

forget all about Mark. The ah, humiliation that you are feeling.”

The following day, the phone rang, I could hear Mom say:

“Yes, Mark, Mal is here, I know she wants to speak to you.”

Like hell I did. I gave Mom the most withering look I could muster as she handed me the phone:

“Mal, I'm sorry, I...

I slammed the receiver down so hard I broke the cradle of the phone. Mom was not amused but understood I was angry. I never did go to the prom. I went off to college, met the man I thought was my soul mate. We married after we finished college. He cheated on me and I divorced him. Our marriage lasted fifteen long miserable years.

Summer 2017

It was the beginning of June when the invitation arrived for the class of 1967 reunion. I accepted the invitation, then promptly dragged out my high school year book. Had it really been fifty years since I graduated from high school? That was going to take me few moments to let it sink in. Well, if I did the math yes, I just hated to admit that I am now sixty seven, divorced with grown children. Times certainly does have a way of passing by. My class reunion would take place at Salvatore's Italian Garden, it was expensive but their food was terrific. The reunion was to begin at Salvatore's at six o'clock in the evening; cocktails. I began to study faces of my classmates wondering who would be there and how much they had changed since high school. Some I would not recognize even if they came up and bit me. I thought about the plane ride tomorrow morning. I was taking the early morning flight out of Dallas/Fort Worth, Texas. It was a direct flight so at least I did not have to change planes; something I truly abhor.

I dozed on the plane so I would be awake and refreshed when I arrived. I had already made my hotel reservation at the Statler Hotel. I wanted to pamper myself, and I could afford it. Once that plane touched down I hailed a Taxi which took me directly to the Hotel. I took a hot shower, dressed. I ordered a cab for five thirty; it was a twenty minute ride to Salvatore's or so I thought. Rush hour traffic in downtown Buffalo is not a pretty sight. I arrived at twenty minutes after six. The first person that saw me enter was my friend a cohort Monica Maynard. We ran to each other hugged, fifty years is a long time. We began by talking about a terrible thing we did to Mr. Waldron, the Geometry teacher. We put glue on his seat; as he rose to begin the day the chair stuck to his butt. The class was in hysterics, Monica and I included. Mr. Waldron was not amused; the rest of the semester, we had double homework every night...it was worth it.

As Monica and I began speaking a tall sparse man approached us. I noticed the name tag; my eyebrows shot up, my eyes opened wide. The man said quietly:

“Monica, will excuse Mallory and I?”

Monica nodded; I wanted to crawl under the table, what did Mark MacDonald have to say to me after all these years. I just could not imagine. I really did not want to speak to him, the past was the past, nothing was going to change the hurt or humiliation. Mark, took my hand abruptly leading me toward a table for two; whether I wanted to go or not. Mark sat me down:

“Mallory, there is something that I think you should know about that date. I did it on a dare; the

girl was Mary Lou Hopkins, you remember the one with buck teeth. I accepted the dare. I

hated hurting you but I really did not think you were ready for the truth.”

I could feel my blood pressure rising along with my temper:

“Mark, a dare? You dumped me on a dare?”

My voice was rising hysterically. I was making a scene then I saw a tray of pies. I got up out of my seat; sauntered over to the pies, picked one took it over to the table and threw it in Mark's face. He wiped the chocolate off his face and laughed:

“I guess I deserved that. Mallory, I am so very sorry I stood you up.”

Once I got a hold of my rather raw emotions I smiled and we laughed. Mark and I talked all evening about high school. I showed him my year book, where he had written:

'Mallory, my sweetheart, I will always be yours.'

He took my hand and placed it to his heart. Three months later Mark and I married in a small ceremony on a hilltop in Hawaii.