Strong Armed Date
July 31, 2021 – Cortez, Colorado, USA
Peanut stepped off the front porch and grabbed the small, round rock she had spotted in the driveway. She picked it up, aimed for the center of the shade tree 100 feet away, and threw a perfect strike that bounced of the tree with a CRACK.
Peanut always threw rocks when she was nervous and she was definitely nervous while waiting for J.P. She watched the road at the edge of the bean field and then peered toward the farthest fence where the cattle were grazing. J.P. would have to come that way.
Sure enough, in the distance a pickup kicked up a little dust tail in the evening light. It was him. She would know that truck no matter what speed it was moving. She had been watching J.P. all her life, but felt invisible around him. Starting in the fall, he would be a senior at Cortez High School and Peanut was only a little sophomore.
J.P. had the looks and build of the cowboy version of Captain America. He was friendly and polite and would be the first to rush into a burning house to save a basket of kittens. He spoke slowly, in a deep voice that made you listen. Pretty much everyone in school liked him. Most of the girls, including Peanut, had written his name next to theirs to see how they looked together.
When J.P. pulled up in front of Peanut’s porch, she climbed into the passenger side of the pickup’s cab before he could get out.
“Hi. Should we say goodbye to your parents or anything?” said J.P.
“No. They know I was waiting for you. They’ll be okay,” replied Peanut.
She sat close to the door and glanced over to see that J.P. was wearing jeans and a long sleeve, button up shirt. He had obviously changed and cleaned himself up. Peanut was dressed in a similar way except that her long-sleeve shirt was unbuttoned with a T-shirt underneath. It was late in the summer, but things would cool down once the sun set and she wanted to have some layers.
J.P. turned his truck around and drove down the gravel lane that led to the county road. Peanut tried to think of something interesting to say.
“Have you been to the fairgrounds yet?” she asked. She already knew the answer. Both of their families had spent time over the past week showing off calves in the livestock arenas. She had even seen J.P. there from a distance.
“Yep. Almost every day this week,” answered J.P.
“Have you been on any of the rides?”
“Not yet.”
“Did you win any blue ribbons for your calves?”
“Nah. The judge was kinda blind.”
J.P. turned onto the dirt county road and drove a little faster. Peanut tried to think of something else to ask. They made it all the way to the paved road before she came up with a question.
“Are you playing basketball again this year?”
“Yeah.”
“Is the team going to be good?”
“Depends.”
Peanut wished he would keep talking, but he kept his eyes on the road as if he was the only one in the truck. She wondered if he would have been more talkative if their date to the carnival was J.P.’s idea instead of her dad’s. The whole thing started when she was playing truth or dare with her visiting cousin and admitted she liked J.P. That would not have been a big surprise to anyone attending Cortez High School, but her cousin treated it like juicy gossip and soon her dad was giggling about it.
“I hear you’re sweet on J.P.” he said in front of the whole family at the dinner table.
Peanut flashed an angry glare toward her cousin.
“You’re a pretty girl. J.P ought to be sweet on you too,” continued Peanut’s father. “I might consider letting him take you out. Maybe I’ll talk to his dad about you.”
Peanut knew nothing she could say would stop him. Once he got an idea in his head, he stuck to it. It was her dad who first gave her the nickname Peanut. He was the only one who thought it was cuter than her real name, Penelope, but he persisted and eventually everyone else called her Peanut too.
J.P.’s family farm was only one road over from Peanut’s. Her dad inevitably ran into his dad at the nearby farm co-op and they both got to talking. Soon they were both sold on the date idea and concluded that the carnival after the county fair would be the perfect time and place.
When she got the news, Peanut’s emotions swung from embarrassment to excitement. So what if J.P was obligated to go? It was still a date with him. But as the night for the carnival got closer, the excitement turned back to embarrassment, and almost dread. She decided the carnival was the worst possible place for them to go. They would be surrounded by high school seniors. Instead of J.P. paying attention to her, he would end up getting dragged away by his friends. A movie would have made for a much better first date.
Peanut had watched the carnival rides and midway games being set up during the middle of the day. When she arrived at the fairgrounds parking lot with J.P., the colorful lights on the rides were just turning on. The Ferris wheel was spinning and Peanut heard screaming from the other thrill rides. Peanut memorized where J.P. parked in case she lost him and had to return alone to the truck and wait. He walked fast toward the sounds of the carnival crowd. Peanut hurried to keep up and stay beside him.
“What should we do first?” Peanut asked him as they moved past lines of parked cars and trucks.
“I’m not sure,” answered J.P.
“The Ferris wheel? The Tilt-a-Whirl? Do you wanna get a scone?”
“Uh, maybe,” answered J.P.
Peanut had $30 in her pocket she had earned from babysitting. She was not sure whether to expect J.P. to spend any money on her, but she was prepared to blow everything she had on rides and food.
The first carnival related thing they reached was a line of people in front of a ticket booth. J.P. joined the end of the line like he was being sucked into a gravitational field. He and Peanut tried to read the sign showing how much each ticket cost.
“I think they’re a dollar,” said Peanut. “But the rides might take more than one ticket.”
“Yep,” said J.P., looking at a spinning ride called the Stormtrooper, which was next to the ticket booth.
“Hey J.P.!” called someone in the distance.
A few seconds later, a group of two guys and three girls sauntered up to the ticket booth line. Peanut recognized them as seniors at the high school.
“What are you doing?” one of the guys asked J.P., ignoring Peanut.
“Getting tickets,” answered J.P.
“C’mon, you can use some of ours. We’re going to the Gravitron,” said the senior guy.
One of the senior girls, Stephanie Andraudee, slid over and hooked one of her arms around J.P.’s. “Yeah, c’mon J.P.,” she said. “I’ll hook you up with tickets and whatever else you need.”
“Alright, alright,” said J.P. and he let Stephanie pull him out of the ticket line. Then he stopped and looked back toward Peanut. “You okay riding the Gravitron?”
Peanut waved and said, “Maybe I’ll just watch.”
The Gravitron was the one ride she knew would make her sick. She followed behind J.P. and the other seniors at a distance. She hated the way Stephanie had her arm around J.P. and caressed his neck. Peanut imagined how good it would feel to grab Stephanie by her hair extensions and yank her to the ground.
She had predicted this would happen, but Peanut was surprised it had happened so fast. Stephanie had swooped in like a blood sucking leach, wearing Daisy Duke shorts and her shirt tied up so her belly button showed. Peanut imagined tying her shirt up that way, but carnival-trashy was not her style. And her belly was not tanned and display-ready like Stephanie’s.
The seniors got in line for the Gravitron and Peanut acted like she was interested in watching the Tilt-a-Whirl next door. At one point, J.P. caught her eye and waved. Peanut waved back before Stephanie shot her a nasty glare.
When their spin on the Gravitron was done, the seniors stumbled off looking unsteady. Stephanie immediately called, “I want a scone!” and the group strolled to the booth selling scones and deep fried Oreos. Peanut trailed them at a distance and then got in line behind them.
J.P. ordered a scone the size of a plate, which was covered in powdered sugar. He pulled off a piece and held it out to Peanut. “You want a bite?” he asked.
Before Peanut could react, Stephanie grabbed the piece of scone and said, “I’ll take it.”
J.P. scolded her for being grabby, but it was mostly a playful scolding. Peanut was left in line to buy her own scone. She nibbled it as she watched the senior group wander from one midway game to another and lose money to the carneys.
“What are you doing here?” asked a familiar voice from behind Peanut.
Peanut turned around to find her friend, Charlotte, dressed in almost an identical outfit to Peanut’s. “I’m supposed to be with J.P., but he’s kind of forgotten me,” said Peanut.
“You came with J.P.? How did that happen?”
“Our dads. But it doesn’t matter,” said Peanut, shrugging her shoulders.
“You wanna ride the Ferris wheel or something?” asked Charlotte.
Charlotte let her family know where she was going and then she and Peanut got in line for the Ferris wheel. When it was their turn and they finally made it to the top, Peanut looked out on the carnival below and tried to spot J.P. She still wished it was him sitting next to her instead of Charlotte.
The two girls finished their ride and drifted back to the midway games. They returned in time to watch J.P. and the seniors try to knock bottles over with a baseball. J.P. threw hard but completely missed the bottle stack. Stephanie’s tosses fell well short and she stomped her foot like an upset toddler.
“You should try that,” Charlotte said to Peanut. “You can hit almost anything when you throw.”
“Maybe I will,” said Peanut.
The two girls waited until the seniors cleared out and then Peanut stepped up to the booth.
“Three balls for three dollars,” cried the long-haired carney running the game. “The more bottles you clear the better your prize.”
Peanut looked up at the stuffed animals hanging from the wall of the booth. Most of them were miniature. A few were the size of a pillow. A single human-sized stuffed horse hung near the back.
“How do I win that?” asked Peanut, pointing toward the horse.
“Knock down ten sets in a row,” said the carney.
“Ten bottles?” asked Peanut.
“No, ten sets. Three bottles to a set. You have to take out all three with one ball.”
Peanut looked at the bottles lined up on a table, twenty feet away from her. Two of the bottles in a set sat on the table and the third bottle was balanced on top of the other two. Three total sets were stacked and waiting.
“I’ll take three balls,” said Peanut.
The carney placed three baseballs in front of her. Peanut had played countless games of catch with her brothers, and when she picked up the first baseball, it felt familiar in her hand. The bottles were too far to inspect closely, but she figured they were probably heavy and hard to knock down. She would need some heat on her throws. She leaned back and let the first ball fly with a full rotation of her arm. BAM! Three bottles tumbled to the ground.
The carney let out an audible grunt like the ball had hit him in the stomach.
Peanut grabbed the second ball and pitched another hard strike. BAM! Three more bottles down. Then she did it again.
“Not bad, kid,” said the carney. “You can choose any of the large prizes on the wall.” He pointed to the pillow-sized animals.
“Nah, I want the horse,” replied Peanut. She handed him another three dollars and said, “Three more balls, please.”
The carney reset the bottles and passed Peanut the balls. She had not forgotten Stephanie and J.P. and so she threw angry. BAM! BAM! BAM! All the bottles fell.
“That’s six in a row. All I need is four more,” Peanut said to the carney.
“Listen, how about taking two of the big prizes and I’ll give you your money back,” said the carney in a low voice.
“I want the horse,” said Peanut.
By that time, word had spread around the midway that something interesting was happening at the throwing booth. Loud cheers went up when Peanut dropped the 7th, 8th, and 9th sets. The carney seemed to have accepted his fate and he did not try to bargain with Peanut before passing her the 10th ball. BAM!
When the carney handed over the giant horse and Peanut tried unsuccessfully to pick it up, J.P. came to her rescue. He had been watching since the 4th pitch.
“I didn’t know you could throw that hard,” said J.P. in an awestruck voice. He looked at Peanut like they were meeting for the first time. “Here, let me carry that for you.”
J.P. draped the stuffed horse over his back while Peanut lifted its rear legs to keep it from dragging on the ground. J.P. suggested they ride the carousel together and he recruited a couple of his friends to guard the horse while he and Peanut waited in line. Stephanie disappeared completely.
“Can I feel your arm?” J.P. asked Peanut as they stood together.
She held out her right bicep and J.P. squeezed it with his right hand, clearly impressed. “You must have to help a lot at home. With your calves and stuff.”
“Yeah, we all do,” said Peanut.
J.P. wanted to know if she had won any blue ribbons and if maybe she would be playing basketball for the school later that year. They got in line for more rides and J.P. kept staring at her in the multi-colored carnival lights. He bought another scone for them to share.
They carried the horse back to this truck and tied it down in the bed so it would not fly out during the ride home. J.P. mentioned the school dances that were coming up and wanted to know how Peanut would get to school every morning, once it started up again.
By the time they reached her house, they had both forgotten about the stuffed horse in the back of the truck. Peanut noticed it as she watched him drive away.
“Something to help him remember me,” Peanut said to herself with a smile.
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