Locomotive to the Past - George Schultz (famous ebook reader .txt) 📗

Jack’s endorsement, of Eliasson’s, had been glowing! So, naturally, it had to be “auditioned”, by the happy couple! Like, immediately! It sometime troubled Jason—that he was still, occasionally, using phrases from the future. (Although this particular one—“immediately”—had been in use, well before he’d been born. It simply lacked the “like” attachment.)

So, the pair had trundled off, to Elliason’s—on that very Friday night. Excitedly, in the case of Jason. Valerie had seemed to have been a slight bit concerned—over what she’d perceived, as a plainly—noticeable change, in attitude, by her, suddenly-brimming-with-confidence, fiancé.

Once seated—in one of the many high-backed booths (ones that seemed almost semi-enclosed)—Jason began:

“Y’know? Y’know, Valerie? If you don’t mind, I’d really like to… to set the date! Our date! The date . . . for our glorious, 12-guage-affair, wedding.”

“You mean, for us… for us to be… for us to get… to get married?”

“Yep! I’d had… there were times, y’know, when… when I’d been… uh… well, I’ve had these worries, y’know! Lots of worries! Financial worries! About the wedding. About us being able to afford to… you know… us affording to, actually, be married! But, I really think . . . really think, right now… that we’re gonna be… that we’re really gonna be all right! So, I’d really like . . . if you don’t mind… would really like to set a date!”

“Jason? Jason… I’m a little worried!”

“Worried? About what? I mean…”

“Well, I remember this time… day or two, after we’d wound up, in bed! The night, that we’d…”

“And the morning,” he’d inserted. “Don’t forget the morning! The morning after . . . we’d been to bed!”

“Right! The night… and the morning… when we made love. And I got to thinking.”

“Didn’t I… ?”

“You did fine! Let’s face it! Neither one of us have had all that much… ah… experience! That much experience, you know… in these things! And that’s at the bottom, of…”

“Speaking of which… you have a beautiful bottom!”

“I’m highly complimented! But, you’ve just made my point! Made it for me! How many other ladies’ bottoms… have you ever seen? Seen… in the flesh? None? I’m guessing . . . none! What worries me… is that you’ve never sown your wild oats! Probably never come close! I’m afraid that…”

“Valerie, I really don’t think that I’ve got any wild oats… to sow! I mean… you’re right! I never have seen another lady’s bottom! (He reflected—to himself—as to how he’d felt that he’d “come really close”, a few times, when it had come, to his “Aunt Debbie”.) “But,” he resumed, “your bottom is enough for me! Believe me! More than enough! As much… as I could ever handle!”

“For the present . . . it is! Of that, I’m sure. But… down the road? Of that? Well, I’m not too sure!”

“Well I am! Listen, Valerie! I’m not experienced! That was, probably, pretty much evident… on that wonderful night! And the next morning! I’ve not ‘been around’! Not only… in regard to what we’re talking about. But listen, I’ve had very few… damn few… occasions, to be making decisions! Any sort of decisions! So, in many cases… in most cases, I guess… anyone could question, just about any decision I might ever make! And, I suppose that could even include this one! But, at this point… in my young life… well, I’m sure of it! Not only sure of it… but, damn sure of it! I want to be your husband! To have you . . . as my wife! The only real reasoning I can give you… is that it feels right! Feels so right! Nothing has ever felt righter! Nothing has ever seemed so… well, so damn right, to me! So absolutely logical! And I’m not known, y’know… for such things, as logic!”

“Once again, you’re not giving yourself enough credit! Not giving yourself any credit, at all! You do fine, in that area!”

“Ah HAH! You’ve just hemmed yourself in, Mrs. Rutkowski! If my judgment is that unerring… then, you’ve got to know! Got to know . . . that I’m right on! Right-the-hell on . . . in wanting you, to be my bride!”

“Right on? You must be excited! Or disturbed! Or upset! That’s the only time… those are the only times… that you ever talk so strangely!”

Oddly, that comment came as a bit of relief to Our Hero! It was reassuring to know that he’d seemed to be mastering (maybe to have almost mastered) the to-him charming—the basic—vernacular, of a totally-foreign epoch!

“Listen, Valerie,” he pleaded. “Please believe me! I love you! Love you deeply! More than I can even say! More than I can ever begin to tell you!”

“Well,” she replied—laughing heartily, “you’ve been doing a pretty good job of it! A really good job… of telling me. Actually, a damn good job!”

“If I’m so damn efficient… so damn wonderful, at telling you about it… then, why are you being so damn resistant, in agreeing, to setting a date?”

“I’m not resisting!”

“You’re not?”

“No! I’m just… just kind of… kind of thinking out loud.” Then, she smiled. “Thinking out loud,” she repeated. “And being a pain in the fanny. Not, necessarily, in that order.”

“Never a pain in the fanny! So! You’ll agree to setting a date?”

“Yes! But, not tonight!”

“Not tonight? Why?”

“Because, there’s a lot . . . a helluva lot… to think about. Do you have a date… any specific date… in mind?”

“Uh… well, no. Not one, that I can… you know… hang my hat on.”

“Hang your hat on?” Then, she smiled—warmly. “Neither do I,” she continued, moping slightly. “There really is a lot… to think about! And… besides… I’m enjoying the idea, of being a pain in the fanny.”

“Again, you’re not being a pain in the fanny.”

“Hang your hat on?” she repeated. “You really must be fighting a lot of… a whole lot of… internal goings on! I’ve never heard that one before.”

“Well, you’re not the only pain in the fanny here-present, y’know. And you’re not even…”

“We’re both pains in the fanny! Surely… that should make a good pair!”

The weekend cometh! Jason was