Prisoner Of Love

Prisoner of Love

AuthorHouse

Chapter One

* * *

How It All Began

January 18,1928: A baby boy was born in a town called Niles, Ohio.

December 30, 1929: A baby girl was born in Chicago, Illinois.

A few years later the baby girl's family moved eight hundred miles to the city of Hoboken, NJ. About the same time the little boy's family moved four hundred miles to the town of Fairview, NJ. Here their paths eventually crossed, and they became bonded forever. It was fate, a song, a hamburger, and a love at first sight that brought the two of them together. A love affair was born, and two hearts were forever joined.

I have had many birthdays, but the one I remember most was a milestone in my life. My 16th birthday meant I would be eligible for working papers. I was the middle child born of nine children, five sisters and three brothers. My father was a barber, and raising nine children on his earnings was a difficult undertaking. As each of my older siblings came of age, they sought employment immediately to help support our large family. However, when World War II broke out, my three older brothers left home to serve their country. On my 16th birthday, I was still in high school, but with my brothers in the service, it was necessary that I get employment as soon as possible and help share my father's burden. As soon as I received my working permit, I began looking for employment. One day after visiting many department stores, restaurants, and different businesses with no success, I stopped at a local White Castle diner for a hamburger. To my surprise I knew one of the workers there, and he asked how I was and what I was doing. I said I was trying to find a job all that day but had no luck. He said his manager had told him he was thinking of hiring another worker, and he thought I would enjoy working there. I quickly made arrangements to meet with his boss the next day. He interviewed me, and I was hired. I worked there for the rest of my time in high school. It proved to be an unforgettable experience and an important part of this story. Learning to deal with so many people everyday was an education in itself. Working there taught me discipline, courtesy, patience, a sense of humor, and respect. There were many, many pleasant memories there during the war. I cherish the memories of the many people who became regular customers—bus drivers, policemen, firemen, defense factory workers, returning servicemen, and of course young ladies. Then there were the revelers who always came in when the bars closed at three am. They could sometimes make things interesting though not always pleasant. Strangely enough there were even customers I became acquainted with who worked at other food establishments but would stop by after work for a cup of coffee and for a chat. It was always a source of pride to me that for many years afterwards I occasionally would meet people who remembered me from my White Castle days. I truly believe that I grew from a teenager into an adult in my few years there. For the rest of my life, White Castle will always have a special meaning for me because it became the foundation of my manhood, and especially because it was there that I first met My Love. As the war came to an end, this story begins ...

The First Glimpse

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It was the summer of 1945, the war had just ended, and I had graduated high school. I would soon be eligible for the draft, and follow my three older brothers who had been serving all throughout the war. I had been working in the White Castle diner during my last few years of high school and was anxiously awaiting to serve my time in the Army and get on with my life. Working at the White Castle, I had the opportunity to meet many people. Every now and then a pretty girl would catch my eye, and I enjoyed flirting with her. Those were very exciting days and a happy period of my life. Then one day, after my high school graduation, a group of young ladies entered, and sat at the end of the counter. Singer Perry Como's latest hit, "Prisoner of Love," was playing on the jukebox, and I glanced at the young ladies and waited to see if my co-worker was going to wait on them.

Suddenly, I was staring at the most beautiful face I had ever seen. I pushed past my co-worker and said, "I'll take care of them." I took the others' orders, and as I stood before this beautiful young girl, she ordered a chocolate milk and a hamburger. I was determined to strike up a conversation with this beauty. I began to panic because I had to meet her, but I didn't know what to say. I was afraid my usual routine wouldn't work on her. For the first time in my life I was speechless. Finally, I told her she had beautiful eyes and asked why I hadn't seen her before. She ignored me, and after a few more futile questions, I was completely deflated. I changed tactics and said, "Please, I am just trying to be friendly, I didn't mean to annoy you, but I've never seen you here before." She looked at me and smiled and said, "That's okay, you've never seen me because we've never been here before. We're from Hoboken. We were on a hike and we have to change buses here."

With a little more coaxing, I managed to get her to tell me her first name, but she wouldn't give me her last name or her address, no matter how I pleaded. I asked if she would ever be coming this way again. She said maybe they would come one more time the following week before school started again. I had to wait on other customers and couldn't continue the conversation, but when they finished eating and were leaving, I quickly followed them outside. I asked, "Are you sure you're coming back next week? I want to see you again." She said, "Maybe." In an act of desperation, I took off my new graduation ring and pressed it into her hand. She protested and tried to give it back to me, but I wouldn't take it. I said, "You keep it until you come back next week or else you'll have to keep it." At first she was flustered, then she just laughed and walked away. I had met other girls before, but this one I would never forget.

Dream Girl

* * *

She did return the following week with her friends and was a little friendlier than before. She handed me back my ring, although I tried to get her to keep it. She told me because she was only 15 years old, she was not allowed to date. She then told me her full name and her address, but cautioned me not to try to see her. Her mother and father were very strict, and it would be useless to try to see her. I had a helpless feeling. I just couldn't imagine not seeing her again. We said goodbye again, and I thought to myself "This couldn't end like this." After that last meeting, she went back to school, and I continued working. During those few months I couldn't get her out of my mind. As the winter went on, I dreamed and fantasized about this beautiful girl I could never forget. Occasionally, there were new customers and diversions from my thoughts of ever seeing my dream girl again.

It was during those few months that winter I found out for sure that no one could take the place of that girl from Hoboken, and it wasn't because I didn't try. I had the opportunity to meet several other young ladies during that time, and I never had a problem with finding a date for a night of bowling or a movie or just a trip to the local ice cream parlor. I never considered myself a ladies' man by any means so I suspect my success with the girls might just have been a case of availability with so many boys still away in the service. I soon realized no matter how many girls I met, my mind was always on the one from Hoboken.

I did have one particular relationship that occurred during that time that became a temporary distraction from my fantasizing over a possible reunion with the girl of my dreams. I always enjoyed dealing with my steady customers and meeting new ones. There was a dry cleaning store across the street from the White Castle, and the young lady who worked there used to come in every day. One day she came in with another young lady and informed me she was going to a new job and this girl was to be her replacement. She was a pretty young lady and few years older than myself. We introduced ourselves, and she became a steady customer. After a few weeks we became better acquainted and occasionally would meet after work. We sometimes went to a movie or to the local ice cream parlor just to socialize. We enjoyed each other's company without expressing any serious intentions. Then, an incident occurred which changed the complexion of our relationship. One day, three of my steady customers who were bus drivers were having coffee. They were always very friendly with me and liked to tease me about my exploits with the girls. One of them said, "Gene, I heard you're dating the girl across the street in the dry cleaning store." I blushed a little and said, "Oh yeah!" He asked, "How do you like her?" Ordinarily I wouldn't have said anything personal or derogatory anyway, but in this instance I was glad I answered him as I did. I said "She's just a real nice girl, and I just like being with her that's all." He said, "That's good, because Ed here is her father." And he pointed to the driver sitting next to him. For a moment I was stunned, and I thought what a stupid thing that was for that driver to do. I said, "Gee, I'm sorry. She told me her father was a bus driver, but I didn't realize it was you." Fortunately he seemed amused and probably somewhat proud I gave the answer I did. He had been a steady customer for quite a while. I always liked him, and he seemed to like me. This caused my relationship with his daughter to take on a new perspective. I saw her more often and was always welcomed at her home. It was a casual relationship, but an enjoyable one, although the difference in our age did have something to do with our relationship not becoming anything more than platonic. She was very mature in many ways, and I had not quite reached my manhood. Many of her friends her age had steady boyfriends and some were engaged. As we saw each other more often, I suspect my friend was beginning to think about a more serious relationship. It was ironic, my first real love was too young to date and my friend, who was now twenty years old and was probably thinking about the possibility of an engagement ring, was too old. Getting engaged was not an option at this time because I was still carrying a torch for the girl I might never see again. I had to admit to myself this new situation was not going to work. I never stopped thinking about My Love from Hoboken. Sometime, somehow I would see her again. My friend and I slowly drifted apart although we stayed friends.

I would not hear of her again until a year later. I had renewed my courtship with My Love by then, and I was in my army uniform riding a bus from Hoboken. I was the last passenger to disembark when the driver asked, "Hi Gene, how are you?" It was my friend's father. Surprised, I said, "Fine, I'm home on leave." He said, "You look great." I thanked him and said it was nice to see him again. He looked at me for a second and then asked, "What ever happened with you and my daughter?" For the moment I felt a touch of remorse as I searched for an answer and after a slight pause said, "I don't really know, no special reason, it just didn't work out I guess." He said, "That's too bad, I wish you two had never broken up. I always liked you. She has a new boyfriend now, and I don't really know him that well." I detected a tinge of sadness in his voice and said I was sorry to hear that and we shook hands and said good-bye. We never met again. I was too young to think about it then but as I think back on it now, as a father of two daughters myself, I can understand what he was feeling at that time.

Actually, the reason we stopped seeing each other was because, while dating his daughter, I was still thinking of my Hoboken love, and I think my feelings showed. It became obvious to both of us that I was still a lovesick teenager playing the part of a man. I continued working through the winter and began thinking ahead to my date with Uncle Sam. Then, on Valentine's Day, fate smiled on me, and my world would never be the same afterwards.

I had just turned 18 years old and had a part-time job driving a taxicab evenings. One evening, I received a blessing. It was on Valentine's Day, and I had a customer who wanted to go to Hoboken. I had never been there before, and I was anxious to see where my dream girl lived. I dropped my fare off, and when I saw the apartment house where she lived, my heart skipped a beat. On impulse, I stopped the cab and wrote a little note on a card and dropped it in her mailbox. I wrote my phone number, told her I had my 18th birthday and would soon be going into the Army. I told her I understood how she felt, but it would mean so much to me if I could just see her again. I waited patiently with no immediate reply, but I had two more opportunities to drive past her house and leave my messages hoping for an answer.

I had just about given up hope when one day, to my pleasant surprise, I received a phone call from her, and we had a pleasant conversation. She also had a birthday and was now sixteen. She repeated her concerns about dating anybody because of her mother and father, but said she did enjoy talking to me and we could try keeping in touch. Several weeks went by and there were a few more phone calls. Finally, I was getting desperate and running out of time. I had to see her again. I told her to explain to her mother that I was going into the Army soon and that I would like to see her just one more time. She begged her mother, who finally consented to allow her to go to the local movie theater with me.

I was elated. I was to meet her at the theater. As I anxiously waited, suddenly, there she was, walking toward me. I couldn't believe I was actually seeing her again. It was a feeling I will never forget. I was actually dating this girl I dreamed about so often. While watching the movie, I tried to snuggle up a little closer to her, and she shied away. For a brief moment I thought I had made a bad move. Then she whispered to me, "My mother is sitting behind us." I turned around very slowly and sure enough her mother was sitting right behind us. This wasn't what I had in mind on our first date. I did manage to hold her hand for the rest of the movie and even that was a thrill. She wasn't just holding my hand, she was holding my heart. After the movie we walked back to her house with her mother following, and that was our date. Then her mother told me she allowed us this one date, but I was not to see her again because she was too young to date boys. I felt helpless. I didn't know what else to say except, "Please, whenever you can, keep in touch." She said she would try. She didn't have a telephone in her home, so she would have to use a pay phone.

The Courtship

* * *

One day she called, and once again I had a chance to keep my dreams alive. Thereafter, she would call me first, and I would call her back, and we had quite a few long telephone conversations. During one of our conversations I asked if she had dated anyone else since our last meeting. She said she hadn't but there was a neighborhood boy who was trying to court her but she hadn't encouraged him. Gradually, I was able to keep her interested in me. Then the calls began to get more intimate and although she was still hesitant about meeting me in secret, she agreed to meet me at a local luncheonette. I began to think I might have a chance to win her heart completely. After that, we would meet at every opportunity.

During one of our meetings the one thing I feared most became a reality. Apparently, a neighborhood boy who knew My Love for a long time had begun to show more than a casual interest in their friendship. He faced the same problem I did in relation to dating her, however he had the advantage of knowing her parents. Evidently, he was encouraged by the fact that she was now dating me and assumed he could now try winning her affection. I had to consider him a worthy rival, because they knew each other before we met.

(Continues...)

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Excerpted from Prisoner of Love by Eugene Fagnano Copyright © 2013 by Eugene Fagnano. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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