Palo Alto and no company other than Dale and Doug.”
“Man, that’s jacked up,” replied Dennis. “What’s wrong with your pops? Is he prejudiced or what?”
“No, he’s not prejudiced, “replied Charles. “He just knows Dale and Doug, and he trusts them.”
“But why does it always have to be those two Buddha Heads?” replied Dennis. “You always hang out with Asians. You act like you’re prejudiced toward blacks.”
“What! Don’t even come at me like that, Dennis,” Charles responded angrily. “You’re blowing this thing way out of proportion and trying to turn this into a racial issue just because you’re upset. And for the record, yeah, I mostly hang out with Asians. The two in particular, whom you called Buddha heads, just happen to be my two best friends.”
“Man, I didn’t mean it like that,” Dennis said, trying to swallow his words.
“That’s how it sounded,” Charles responded scornfully. “Dennis, I’ve known you for about one year, right?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ve known Dale and Doug for over seven years since we were kids. We had the chicken pox and the mumps together. Man, the three of us would die for each other. Dale and Doug are my true brothers, Dennis. They’re my barkadas.”
There was a long silence on the other end of the telephone. “Man, what can I say?” said Dennis. “I’m sorry.”
“Aw, don’t trip, Dennis,” said Charles. “Those guys are my buddies. I just don’t like people talking bad about them.”
“Like I said,” apologized Dennis, “my fault.”
“Awe, it’s cool,” responded Charles. “If I were in your position, I would have been mad too. I mean, we’ve been planning this thing for the last two weeks already, right?”
“Right.”
“So, let’s do it like we planned it,” said Charles, realizing that he felt guilty for forgetting the prior commitment that he had made with Dennis. “I’ll tell you what. Meet me in the student parking lot right after school, and we’ll go to your house, pick up some extra clothes, then head out to Santa Cruz Beach. After that, you can stay over at my house for the weekend.”
“Sounds cool to me,” said Dennis. “See you after school.” They both hang up the phone.
Charles grabbed his jacket from the clothes hook and hurried out of his bedroom. Halfway down the stairs, he realized that he had forgotten to bring his backpack. He turned around and went back to his room to get it.
Entering his bedroom, he picked up his backpack. The telephone rang. “Hello,” he said after picking up the phone.
“Hi,” said the voice on the other end. “May I speak with Charles.”
“This is Charles,” he said.
“Hi, Charles. This is Sharron.”
“Sharron who?” he asked.
“Sharron Morris,” she replied. “I go to Ravenswood High School with you.”
There was a pause at Charles’s end of the phone. Sharron Morris is considered to be the most popular senior on campus. She is captain of the cheer leading squad for the Ravenswood High School’s Varsity Football Team and is the most sought-after girl by every boy at school. Charles was surprised—stunned at the least—that a girl of Sharron’s status would even have his telephone number, let alone be calling him. There must be some mistake, he thought to himself. Girls like Sharron think that I’m some kind of nerd or geek.
Charles took a moment before speaking. He didn’t want his nervousness to be conveyed over the telephone. “What’s up, Sharron?”
“Charles, I got your telephone number from the student directory at school. I hope you don’t mind.”
“No, no, that’s okay,” he said, still puzzled.
“The reason that I called you, Charles, is that I wanted to know if you were going to the ‘Dollar Night on the Boardwalk,’ today after school”
“Yeah, I was planning to go,” he said.
“Good.” she responded. “Are you in a hurry right now?”
“Well, I was heading out the door for school,” said Charles.
“Are you driving?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“Charles, do you think that you could come by my house and pick me up on your way to school?”
“Come by your house and pick you up?” exclaimed Charles, the shock evident in his voice.
“Yes,” she said, “if that wouldn’t be a problem.”
“Are you kidding?” Charles responded excitedly, but then caught himself.
“I mean,” he continued, trying to sound more composed, “sure. It won’t be a problem at all. Where do you live?”
“On Fordham Street,” she said.
“Fordham Street?” he asked. “Where is that exactly?”
“In East Palo Alto,” she responded. Sharron was a little puzzled. Everyone knows where Fordham Street is. Why would Charles ask her such a ridiculous question, unless he did not live in East Palo Alto.
“Where do you live, Charlie?” she asked with much curiosity.
“In Atherton,” he responded.
“Atherton!” she gasped, the shock evident in her voice. “Charles, you live in Atherton?”
“Yeah,” he responded. “Wasn’t it listed in the student directory?
“The telephone numbers are, but not the addresses,” said Sharron. “Let me give you the directions to my house.”
Charles wrote down the directions on a piece of paper, then hung up the telephone. He grabbed his backpack and ran out of his room and down the stairs. “Maria! Maria!” he shouted upon entering the kitchen. He wondered why Maria did not answer him, but then he remembered that this is the time that Maria normally goes to the market to do her shopping.
Charles walked toward the cabinet where the car keys were stored. Opening it, he noticed that the keys to the Ford were hanging next to the extra set of keys to the Ferrari. Without hesitation, Charles reached up and grabbed the keys to the Ford and proceeded into the garage.
Entering the garage, he could see that the Ford was parked in the farthermost stall away from the door. As he continued walking toward the Ford, he couldn’t help but notice the Ferrari, which was also parked in the garage. He paused for a moment to look at it. The stylish black leather interior, the sleek red painted frame with the custom tires. This car, he thought to himself, is a true statement of masculinity.
Charles continued on to the Ford. Opening the car door, he climbed in. Sticking the key into the ignition, he started the engine and let it idle for a moment. When he felt that the car had warmed up enough, he reached for the automatic shift. He was about to shift the car into reverse when he hesitated for a moment; and without much thought, his hand moved from the automatic shift back to the ignition. He then turned the key, shutting off the engine.
“I can’t do it,” Charles said. “Here I am on my way to pick up the most beautiful girl in school, and I’m doing it in this stupid old Ford.”
Charles got out of the Ford and walked back into the kitchen. Opening the cabinet, he replaced the keys to the Ford on the hook where he had taken them from. Five minutes elapsed while he stood in front of the cabinet, trying to muster up enough courage to take the keys to the Ferrari. Finally, he reached out and took the keys from the hook.
Dad, I know you’re going to kill