"You and Sandy get your butts into that garage and get hopping on that load of ironing. Do not even think of going anywhere until that bag is empty! YOU HEAR ME?" Sandy's mom was in rare form this afternoon. Work was not new to us. Loving, bathing, feeding, changing, and watching over the three younger siblings on a daily basis was just part of our duties. Not to mention the Saturday ritual of scrubbing and waxing the kitchen floor on our hands and knees. The temperature on this extremely hot and muggy afternoon was well over 100 degrees and the garage temperature was no improvement.
Sandy and I just gawked at each other knowing that one of us would be extra special and really have to do this hard work--after all, there was only the one hated iron. So, we alternated the starching, wetting, ironing, and hanging up of the dreaded garments. We were not thrilled with this turn of events knowing that we still had our own cloths to iron later. With a household of ten, that bag looked like a mountain called "hopeless."
It had already been a long, hot, boring summer for both of us. It seemed that our only fun was summer school, Sunday church, and walking to the store. "I just want to go to the beach, Gail. I am sick of being mother's slave." Sandy was losing her cool under the dripping sweat. "Let's just run away from this miserable place! What do you say?"
"I say 'HELL NO' Sandy! We can not do that! Just the thought of making your mother mad scares the living daylights out of me. I do not need that kind of trouble." I truly was scared and with good reason. Dolly had a temper that could scorch the shirt Sandy was ironing. It was always difficult to "please" her. I tried desperately to do anything and everything I could do to be liked by that whole family, and God knows how impossible that was. Dad was a GOOD GUY, but, let's face it--Dolly had him by the you know whats--smack dab in the palm of her hands...literally.
Sandy just would not give up with this fantasy of hers. She was working us both into a well-devised plan. We would walk 26 miles to Huntington Beach. No word of night time seemed to enter her mind...it was all about laying on the sands and getting some sun. Okay--who was planning past that? I was a naive 14 years while Sandy was an angry 13 and at that age no one thinks ahead. Sandy conceived a plan where she would enter her mother's bedroom...and oh my goodness, my father was there fast asleep since he didn't go to work until late shift. She took some loose change and an orange transistor radio that was my fathers. She just had to have THAT radio. I can remember the feeling in the pit of my stomach as we walked away from the house. I was terrified! We got about 1/4 of a mile down Santa Gertrudes Road when I said "Sandy, this is CRAZY! I just cannot do this!" Sandy got so mad at me that she started walking backwards away from me, screaming "You are nothing but a yellow chicken shit and a coward. I have made up my mind. I am NEVER going back to that house. I hate it there! I hate my mean mother! So I am gone...out of here, never to return again. Go on! Go home to daddy! I should have known I could not count on you!"
"Come on back with me Sandy...no one will know we left, and we will still be safe from anyone knowing we have been gone." Sandy was having no part of this and her body language was proof of that. "You cannot change my mind, Gail" "All right, all right! You win! There is no way I can let you get into trouble on your own. I am no chicken shit, Sandra Lee. So, don't call me that again, you hear me?"
Twenty-six miles is a long way for two young girls that rarely get out of the house. It was an interminably long and blistering hot walk. I thought we would never stop walking. We wore only cutoff shorts and little crop tops. The thongs we wore would barely hold up for this long journey. Who was thinking of the weather conditions at night, and who needed a hairbrush or toothpaste? Certainly not for two little teenagers. We were beyond understanding what laid ahead of us. There were several situations that were extremely frightening to me. Each time something bad could have happened, it involved boys. Two big guys passed us on the sidewalk just beyond Knott's Berry Farm. They bumped and groped us laughing at their boldness. Both Sandy and I were shocked beyond comprehension. What the heck! I had never been touched between my legs before. And, Sandy's butt ached from the pinching she got. Then as we got into the town of Huntington Beach, several boys in an old car stopped and asked us if we wanted a ride. I said "NO thank you!" but Sandy was already one leg into the backseat of the car when I pulled her out yelling at her. She was going to leave me there on the street while she went off with these guys. Who was this girl? She scared me worse than the boys did.
We could not believe our eyes when we saw the ocean through the trees as the sun was setting. It was a beautiful sight, but now we were more frightened than ever. What now? We walked to Huntington Beach pier and decided to find a place to spend the night. Again, Sandy made talk with two guys who wanted us to go to a party. I begged Sandy not to put our safety in jeopardy again. The car incident earlier was still on my mind. I wanted so much to be home. We found a woman's restroom and checked it out. It was wet and sandy with ants to be found everywhere. It smelled none too sweet. I can tell you that! There was one long bench and we each curled up at the opposite ends and tried to sleep. It was cold! Then the sweeper started working up and down the beach....ALL FRIGGIN NIGHT! We had a terrible night in that dark place.
The sun had not even made its way up yet and we were out on the beach. We found a spot near the water and tried to sleep. We didn't have anything to lie on...just the sand. The beating sun took its toll on me. Within hours I was burnt to a crisp. We went swimming to cool off. I asked Sandy to call home and tell our parent's where we were and she said, "What, are you out of your mind?" I was so hungry because we hadn't eaten in well over 24 hours. A police car caught my eye and I got up and walked over to the policeman. I asked him if he would call home for me and Sandy, as I pointed toward her on the beach. He knew immediately that we were runaways. If I could have seen myself in the mirror I would have been shocked...I looked like a dirty drowned rat. Sandy didn't even look like Sandy. But as I was looking at her disheveled appearance I saw that steely look of angry cross her face as she bolted down the beach to put some distance between the policeman and herself. I could not believe my eyes when the policeman ordered me to stay put and began to chase Sandy down. Good grief!...are we in trouble now! A funny thing--Sandy had money in her pocket and yet I had to ask a policeman to call home for me. Subconsciously, I think I knew what I was doing.
That was my first and only ride in the back of a police car. I felt like a caged criminal. The worst part was being closed in with Sandy. She was spitting mad at me. Matter of fact, she was madder at me than dad was. She didn't want to ever speak to me again as long as I lived. To this day it seems she says what she means because I haven't spoken to her in years. We sat in the reception area at the police station waiting what seemed like forever for our parents to arrive. The horrible expressions on their faces about killed me. I don't think they would have recognized us if they had passed us on the street---we looked that bad. They were angry to say the least. We evidently scared the hell out of them...but, the anger won out. We both got the belt when we got home. Sandy got it worse than I did. After explaining to them the what, when, and why of the situation we found ourselves in... I think poor Sandy got the main blame for it all.
There have been times in my life since when I am so upset about something in a relationship that I just want to RUN AWAY....but, I always relate running away with that horrible experience when I was a teenager...and it seems safer to work through things---problems no matter how serious will always work their way out. Patience is all it takes.
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