Every day that summer he hurried home on the Rock Island to get to the summer workout at Ridge Park. He had a job that summer at his uncle’s ice cream factory.
Only $1.20 an hour – pretty good compared to the $1.00 per hour he got his first summer after grade school.
He used to call Moon’s name out at night, as he listened. “Trees swayin in the summer breeze, showin off their silver leaves as we walk by.” Yes, all good things must end some day, as end they did.
Moon had just finished 8th grade and was entering Mother McCauley High School next September. He was going into 3rd year of high at Leo.
He had a couple records, but wasn’t good enough to swim for Ridge. They had some national champions on their team, including one Olympian and several future all-Americans.
Joe only wanted to do his personal best. Moon was a breast stroker; he was a distance man.
The lockers were in rows across from each other, boys on one side and girls on the other side, facing each side of the pool.
Everyone showered together in their suits. Moon was just starting to blossom. He could see every detail – tiny breasts with nipples straining against her Speedo.
She was no Annie Gonya, girlfriend of the Olympian. She couldn’t butterfly like little Jackie Bergland, but she, like everyone, could do all the strokes.
Joe could do an individual medley but freestyle was his forte. He would go on to win several – many awards – but none that summer.
Their free and medley relays were their best events, always placing or winning. The Leo team could always capture firsts in Catholic league tournaments. They won most of their dual meets but never better than 3rd at city.
He was proud of his physique but he knew he could not compare with most of the regulars.
He hurried so he could see Moon and chat in the showers before and after workout. He later realized that Moon and the girls were flirting. That word was not in his vocabulary.
Finally, at the end of the summer, he decided maybe he would go on a date.
His cousin Val carefully coached him on what to say. He hid in the closet while he called her.
“May I speak to Cathy?” “This is Cathy.” “If you’re not busy Saturday, would you like go bowling?”
Cathy said ok. “What time can I pick you up?” He walked over to her house in Beverly Hills, wearing his Robert Hall chinos and a faux top with a little alligator on it.
The Rice guys could afford Levis. They wore madras shirts and penny loafers. He wore white tennis shoes and white sox.
Brother Mullins asked everyone to stand up so he could see the shoes everyone was wearing. Black shoes with white socks. Leo guys didn’t follow fashion because they didn’t know what it was.
Moon was at the door. The stepped onto 101st street together. He was too nervous to attempt to hold hands.
They talked about swimming and school next year. He bragged about himself – knowing nothing better to say.
Moon won the first two games. He won the last – she let him win, he thought later.
They walked back, mostly downhill. Thank God none of the other Leo guys, or God forbid Rice guys saw them.
He walked her almost to her door.
That fall he asked her to the Leo Dinner Dance. He was shocked when she accepted.
They went to the Martinique afterwards. He could only slow dance and twist. Moon pointed out “Fred and Ginger” dancing around the floor. He had no idea what she was talking about.
His rival from Rice took Moon to their dinner dance. Unforgiveable. He would not call her again.
Several summers and a million years later he saw her at Soldier Field, sitting with the McCauley girls. Leo was playing someone. She walked over and stood by an exit.
He glanced up at her. The next moment she was gone.
He never saw her again.
