Great memories of decades ago. What great entertainment it was....out in the open
under the stars.....not a care in the world. This is story 25 in Tales Unleashed.....it
would be a night remembered for years to come......for many.
Lost
at the Drive-In
It was 6:00 on a Friday night and
Jerry was looking at the clear sky over the perfect farmland which butted up to
his dad’s property. It was the ideal place to live . . . a hundred acres
outside of a little town of less than twelve thousand people. Two minutes into
town to the malt shop, the bowling alley, the tackle shop, and the best of all,
the Starlighter Drive-In. Jerry remembered going to the drive-in as a kid,
sitting in the back of his father’s Hudson while his mom and dad were in the
front. His memory brought back the great smells of the drive in—the hot dogs
and relish, the popcorn, the hot fried
dough.—but all that was years ago. Now it was June 1965, and a glorious night
it was.
Jerry got on the phone with his
steady girl Cindy and they agreed he would pick her up at 8:30 . . . maybe stop
for a quick vanilla cone then head to the Starlighter for the show. What was playing?
Was it even important? Heck no, the Starlighter was the make-out spot for the
whole high school it seemed. Jerry cleaned out his red ‘57 Chevy and made it
look very inviting for Cindy, as this was the first time they were going to the
drive-in alone. No double dating, no chaperones. Just the two of them, under
the stars and watching the big picture show.
Jerry’s jaw dropped as he drove up
to Cindy’s house and saw her bopping down the steps. She was gorgeous tonight .
. . a white blouse and pink sweater, pleated skirt, bobby socks, and penny
loafers.
Jerry thought that this girl could
actually be the one . . . the one that they always tell you about as a kid, the
one you have to never let get away under any circumstances. Jerry’s smile was
wide as he opened the door and Cindy slid over the white leather car seat to be
as close to him as she could. As Sam Cooke’s
“You Send Me” played on the radio, Jerry put the Chevy in gear and they headed
for their night out.
It was 7:00 am and Jerry’s dad was
up and getting his fishing gear together for the day. He had promised Jerry
that the first Saturday he had off, they would head out to Brier Lake and try
their luck for some rainbow trout. The locals said the rainbows were large and
mighty plentiful there. As Jerry’s dad made the coffee, he looked out the
window and noticed the ’57 Chevy was not in its usual spot. That’s odd. He knew
that Jerry was taking Cindy to the drive-in, but that was last night. He
chuckled to himself . . . could they have fallen asleep and not noticed the
early daylight? He had heard of it happening before. Such an incident would
surely be met with grave words from parents upon returning home.
As the hours passed, there was no
sign of Jerry, Cindy, or the red ’57 Chevy. The local Sheriff and state police
put out an all-points bulletin for the vehicle and its occupants. The day
turned into three days, then to five, then to an agonizing seven days with no
resolve. Jerry and Cindy were both level-headed kids, the kind not to run off
or to make bad decisions, so it stumped everyone in the small town. Both
popular kids in the same class, these two were the least likely to be in any
sort of trouble.
Time continued to pass. A year
turned into five years, the sixth year stretched into the tenth, and then into
year sixteen . . . but it wasn’t to be sweet sixteen. After failing health and
no son returning, Jerry’s father passed away, a desolate and frail man.
It was in the 17th year
that a young man scuba diving in Brier Lake found himself in very dark, murky
water and swam headlong into a vehicle entwined in seaweed and muck. He
recognized the swept- back tail fin. The young diver knew in an instant that
this indeed was the profile of a ’57 Chevy.
Within two hours the local Sheriff and coroner
stood on the bank of the boat launch and watched as a wrecker gently pulled the
vehicle out of the water. As the vehicle emerged from its long-held place in
the lake, the bright sun reflected off of the rusted bumper and trunk lid of
the old car. It was indeed a red Chevrolet.
Jerry and Cindy had been found.
What had happened that night would remain a mystery, though. Did they go to the
show as planned? Did they make a detour and head elsewhere for more privacy?
Did they become lost in the twilight, or worse yet, become victims of some
insane person? All unanswered questions.
As the tow truck operator pulled
the vehicle up on to the flatbed, he lit a cigarette and started whistling a
very melodious tune.
“Say”, said the Sheriff. “I know that tune.
What is it you’re whistling there?”
“Oh, it’s an old Sam Cooke favorite of mine.
‘You Send Me.’”
The Sheriff nodded and said, “Yep, remember it
well.” He got in his patrol car and headed home.
