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mind?ā€ he’d finally inquired, of his ā€œtraditionalā€ girlfriend. ā€œI’ve heard so much . . . about this place.ā€

ā€œYou have?ā€ she retorted. She was still a little shaken, by his frightening traffic ā€œmaneuverā€. ā€œI’ve been by here… passed by here… twenty-five or thirty times,ā€ she noted. ā€œAnd I never even knew… never noticed… that the joint was here!ā€

ā€œUh… couple guys, at work. They said the food’s great here.ā€

He thought that he’d seen a look of cynicism cross her pretty face—for the briefest of seconds. But, she said, ā€œIf you want to eat here, that’s fine, with me. Besides, we’re already here.ā€

Jason wondered—as he exited the car, to open the passenger’s door, for his date—how he’d ever recognize his grandfather, as an 8—or 10-year-old boy. And that could only be—if the Piepczyk family was inside! But, he pressed onward! Excelsior!

As it turned out, during their 90-minute stay, no one (no group of people) could possibly have been considered to have been Grandpa Piepczyk and his parents! Our Boy was patently disappointed!

Oh! And the food—while tasty—was not exceptional!

Moving! Now, that turned out to be ā€œa whole ā€˜nother thingā€!

The apartment did not become available—till the following Thursday! The day which turned out to be halfway, between Blackhawks-and-Rangers! To Jason’s extreme relief, it didn’t take him all that long, for the heart-fluttering relocation, to be accomplished! He’d had, not all that much ā€œstuffā€ā€”to haul, to his glorious new residence!

The move did prove to be quite exhausting—in one aspect! There were no parking lots! Nothing assigned—or available—for any, of the many large apartment buildings, which were lined up, side-by-each, right next to one another! For a full city block! Only ā€œcatch-as-catch-canā€ street parking!

Fortunately, these edifices lined only one side of Ohio Street. Private one-family dwellings populated the other side. Still, the arrangement caused a bleak parking situation! Where to park—the elegant, ā€œnewā€, Dodge? The closest Our Hero could get to his building—on that magical night—was a slot, which was located three-quarters of the way, to Grand River! Definitely at the other end—the far end—of the block!

But, that was all right! Jason Rutkowski—who’d always feared (who’d, forever, been actually positive) that he’d always be consigned, to the small area, adjacent to that damnable, lumpy, God-awful, Murphy bed, in Sheila’s apartment’s living room—was now safely ensconced, in his new diggings! His own, private, residence! WOW! HIS! His—and his alone!

And, fortunately, the former tenant—from whom Jason was subleasing—was an honest man! He’d left—literally—every piece of furniture, that he’d promised to provide! And that stuff—all now belonged, to the grateful, overwhelmed, new occupant! Instant household!

This is great!

The most difficult part of the move—by far—had involved saying ā€œgoodbyeā€, to Susan!

She’d clung onto him—for an uncomfortably-long period of time! And, the ā€œhugā€ had been accompanied,—by a copious number of tears! They simply continued to cascade—down those, peaches-and-cream, cheeks, of hers! The heart-rending, tear-filled, parting—was, after a seemingly-unending number, of minutes—proving to be almost embarrassing, for overwrought Jason! (Almost—but, not quite)!

The emotional parting had caused him to wonder anew—as he’d done, on many occasions, before—exactly what the special attachment, between himself, and his now-former landlady, had always included! It had been obvious—even to ā€œimperceptible ol’ Jasonā€ā€”that some sort of special bond, between the two, had been in place! And from that very first

day!

She’d always shown a special, albeit-platonic, love for him! Platonic! But, it was a form of love! Of that, he was certain! It had to be! Love had to ā€œfigure in there… somewhereā€! And it had been beautiful! Was love not always beautiful?

Still, what was it? What chemistry between them—had caused him, to break down and cry, that one time? To bawl—like some kind of little baby? With his head, in her lap? Following—of all things—his very first date? The one—with Valerie? What made her implore her husband—to let Jason move in—in the first place? That had been little more than a couple of months before!

And Eric! What could he be thinking? His wife—indulging in a long, almost-passionate, highly-emotional, embrace! With his former boarder!

When, once the ultra-tender, prolonged, embrace had ended, Jason had ā€œsnuckā€ a look at Eric! The latter’s face was totally impassive! It was impossible, to gauge anything—any emotion—from his mentor’s expression! Or lack thereof!

Back to the Thursday night hockey game—vs. the New York Rangers: Our favorite couple had found themselves ensconced, near the top of the balcony—behind goalie ā€œSugar Jimā€ Henry—as he took his place, in the Rangers’ nets.

Henry’s appearance was a bit of a surprise, for Jason. He wasn’t absolutely positive, but—from what he’d remembered, of his grandfather’s many diatribes, pertaining to the NHL—he’d pictured ā€œSugar Jimā€ as coming along, a good deal later. Possibly in 1948 or 1949.

The young man’s silent wish—to be able to afford more attention to the game itself—appeared to be coming to fruition! For the first period-and-a-half, his ā€œtestified-toā€ girlfriend had seemed totally wrapped up—in the colorful happenings, on the ice, far below. And Jason was spending most of his time—explaining the action (offside and icing rules, etc. etc. etc.) to his date.

During a lull—at about the 11-minute mark, of the second period—Valerie turned to him, and asked, ā€œHow is it that you know so much about hockey? I wouldn’t think that there’d be a whole lot of teams . . . down there in West Tennessee. So, I wouldn’t imagine there could be all that much interest.ā€

That question had set off a two-pronged alarm—in Our Hero’s fragile psyche: First of all, this obviously-smart young woman, obviously, was aware that Memphis was located, in the far-western end, of the Volunteer State. Did she know that—off the proverbial ā€œseat of her pantsā€? Or had she been ā€œchecking him outā€? Doing an inordinate amount of research—on him? On where he’d come from?

Secondly—and probably more significantly—he had been expounding entirely too much, about the finer points of hockey! Probably far too much!

ā€œUh… well, we did get to see the Blackhawks game. You and I.ā€

ā€œThat game? We hardly watched that game… at all! Neither one of us.ā€

ā€œWell… ah… Eric did take me to that one

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