FIRST IMPRESSIONS

FIRST IMPRESSIONS

I’ve always heard you only get one chance to make a first impression. Apparently that’s not true. 

I had just arrived in Middleburg. Fresh out of the Army, I was eager to re-enter civilian life.  I got off of the bus and hoisted my duffle bag over my shoulder and started walking towards the motel I spied two blocks away. I had a job interview lined up for tomorrow and I was eager to get familiar with the town that may be my new home. 

Middleburg was your typical small town, just like the one I grew up in. This was the main drag and I saw a couple of taverns where the locals drink their beer, a mom and pop grocery store, a hardware store, a Woolworth and an assortment of other businesses. Just like my hometown!

I breathed in the air. So fresh and invigorating, unlike the stench of Afghanistan. It simply felt right. I  spent last night in Atlanta and I was uncomfortable. Too many cars, too many people. Too much everything! I was insignificant. Dad always said there was safety and security in a small town where everybody knows who you are. 

Turns out Dad was full of crap! Sometimes anonymity was a blessing!

I was marching down the sidewalk towards the motel and a true small town beauty was walking towards me. And to my utter surprise she seemed to be looking at me! I glanced over my shoulder to see 

who might be behind me but the sidewalk was empty. 

I’m no lady’s man but this young lady was worth taking a shot at. Tall, slender, with long blond hair and the cutest dimples and she was eyeballing me. When we were a few steps apart I removed my cap, smiled and said, “Hello, how are…” and suddenly I was sitting on the sidewalk with blood streaming from my nostrils. 

I don’t know if it was luck or skill but she could throw a punch! And she also could curse because a steady stream of obscenities came flowing from her pretty mouth. She would have impressed a longshoreman with her knowledge of curse words. 

I was shaking my head trying to clear the stars that were clouding my thoughts when the girl began kicking me. She was obviously aiming for my crotch but the tears that were streaming down her face were likely messing up her aim. 

It also appeared that she thought she knew me as she kept referring to somebody named Teddy and her comments seemed to be aimed at me. I tried to get to my feet but she delivered a nice roundhouse punch to my left ear and I went down again.  Definitely she had skill!

Apparently satisfied with her Pearl Harbor-like attack she spat out the words, “Don’t you ever call me again, Teddy! Don’t you ever!” And then she stomped away down the sidewalk. 

I wanted to tell her my name isn’t Teddy but I didn’t get the chance. 

I managed to get to my feet and slung the duffel bag over my shoulder again and stumbled to the motel. Later, I took a hot shower and examined the damage to my face and the bruises forming on my legs and wondered what had happened? 

I decided to go to one of the taverns and get a sandwich and a beer. When I entered I saw a group of people shooting pool in one corner, then a small dance floor with some  tables and chairs and  a long bar with a number of people sitting on the stools and enjoying a cold draft. I smiled. It was much like my uncle Henry’s bar back home. A comfortable setting where friends gathered and relaxed after a long day at work. If I get the job, I could see myself being a regular patron here. 

But two seconds later, a meaty paw grabbed my left shoulder and spun me around and for the third time since getting off the bus an hour ago, my face was introduced to someone’s fist. Again I went down on my butt and I realized this punch had knocked out one of my molars. I hoped it wasn’t the one the dentist put a crown in. 

Blood was filling my mouth and I spat out a wad of corpuscles along with my former tooth and I saw it was indeed the repaired one.  I was sad when I remembered the agony in the dentist’s chair as well as the expense. Then I was hoisted to my feet and a very large black man stuck his face into mine. 

I nearly gagged. Not only from the blood again entering into my mouth but his breath was horrendous. He grinned evilly at me as he said, “Hello, Teddy! I sure hope you have my money! Because if you don’t, I’m going to keep the promise I made you yesterday and give you the ass kicking of your life!” 

I stared at him dumbly and muttered, “I’m not Teddy!” and this was answered by a vicious punch to my gut. My knees buckled and I went down again. 

In the background I heard a number of people laughing and clapping their hands and yelling, “Give it to him, Jerome! Give him one for me!” And also I heard somebody shout, “Fuck you, Teddy! You asshole!” 

Who is Teddy?

I was blinking my eyes, trying to clear the tears that had formed and to focus, when I heard a feminine voice shout, “Stop it Jerome! Stop it now!”

I looked up and saw a tiny white haired woman push the black man away then knelt down beside me. She hissed, “Teddy, you stupid asshole. I told you to stay out of here. The only reason I don’t let Jerome stomp you is I want what you owe me! And you better pay up soon.” 

I tried to tell her I wasn’t Teddy but she had left.   I couldn’t stand so I crawled on my hands and knees to the door. A fat young girl held the door and kicked me in the ass as I crawled past. Then, on the sidewalk, I passed out.

I came to, sitting in an uncomfortable metal chair and was shocked to realize I was handcuffed! Sitting across a metal desk from me was a young police officer who was furiously typing on a desktop computer. Groggily, I asked, “Where am I? Why do I have these handcuffs on me?”

The officer stopped typing and smirked at me, “Welcome back, Teddy! And congratulations! It’s been three whole days since you last graced my desk. And by the looks of you, you haven’t had a fun time, compared to most of our meetings!” 

Gingerly, I felt the side of my face and the spot where my lost tooth had been was on fire and my lips were swollen. And much of my body ached. 

“My name’s not Teddy. It’s Carl.  Carl Fredrickson. Why does everybody call me Teddy?”

The officer laughed and said, “Well ol’ buddy, I’ve heard you tell some whoppers before and this is the best. When we were kids in Elementary School together, you always impressed me with the excuses and lies you came up with. Sometimes our teacher, Miss Sater, actually believed you. But you never tried to deny being yourself before. Very original. Might have worked with somebody else. But not your ex-best friend!”

Chuckling, he returned to his typing but paused to add, “By the way, I’ve already called your folks. They should be here soon.”

“My parents?”

“You do remember your parents, don’t you? Reverend and Missus Danford? Good God, Teddy! Drop the “I-don’t-know-who-I-am act. It’s not only stupid but you don’t carry it off very well.”

“ Where’s my wallet? Look inside at my identification!”

“I’ve got your wallet right here. I was just about to inventory it.”  The officer picked up the battered leather wallet and opened it. “Hey! Look! You’ve got almost six hundred dollars! Just yesterday when I asked about the two hundred dollars you owe me you said you were broke! I’m sure you won’t mind paying up now, would you?” 

I didn’t know what to say as he counted out ten twenty dollar bills and stuffed them in his breast pocket. Then he flipped through the receipts and assorted notes and then to my Army ID card. “What’s this? Corporal Carl Fredrickson?” He looked at me and said, “I’ve seen some good fake IDs before but this one is excellent. Really looks authentic. Where did you get it? eBay? And you have a fake Social Security card too? And a library card? Even a VISA card.” He shook his head and chuckled. “Teddy! Teddy! Teddy! This might work in a different town but not where you grew up and everybody knows you.  Well you know I’m required to confiscate and destroy all fake IDs.” And then he ran my only forms of identification through a shredder. 

Moments later, an older officer entered the room leading  a middle-aged couple. “Here you go folks! See you in Church on Sunday!” Then he left. 

The woman rushed to my side and gently touched my face. “Dear Lord, Teddy! What happened to you?”  She pulled a scented handkerchief from her purse and softly dabbed at the dried blood on my chin. I winced and softly said, “My name isn’t Teddy. I don’t know you. This is all a mistake.”

The man looked angry and pitying at the same time. “Son, how long is this going to continue? I thought we raised you right. But your behaviors are a disgrace. A disgrace to your mother and me as well as yourself. The whole town talks about you. I’m embarrassed to go to the pulpit on Sundays. How can I preach to my congregation about living a righteous life when my own flesh and blood doesn’t?” 

There was a hubbub of sound coming from outside of the room. I heard a man sharply say, “What the hell?” and a woman said, “No way! I don’t believe my eyes!”

Another officer entered the room and excitedly spoke to the man still typing on the computer. “James! You’re not going to believe this!” 

Then another officer entered, leading a second man who was handcuffed. The woman who was still tending to my face looked at the second man and screamed shrilly. Her husband’s face turned white with shock. 

The man in handcuffs said, “Hi Mom! Hi  Dad! What are you doing here?”