Arcade Days

It ended up Steve got his mother’s car and we drove up 9N and parked near the Million Dollar Beach. We played a round of miniature golf, and then had soft ice cream in front of the Mohican on the Steel Pier. We said, Moonlight Cruise.

Mr. Downing was directing traffic on Canada Street. He was a summer cop. He taught us social studies at school, and in summers he directed traffic.

We walked up the lake-side of Canada Street past Shepherd Park, browsing the t-shirt shops, crossed at the old courthouse, and walked back down to the arcades. We bought slices of pizza, took turns in the batting cages, visited the head shops, waved to Frankenstein in front of the wax museum.

In the arcade on the corner of Canada and McGillis I played the pinball machines. I wasn’t very good at pinball, but better than Steve. Shelly and Steve played air-hockey. You played the pinball machine next to mine. Then we switched machines.

When Mr. Downing waved us on to cross Canada Street, we said, Hey Mr. Downing.

Hey gang, Mr. Downing said.

We thought it was funny to see Mr. Downing in a cop uniform.

We sat on the steps going up to Fort William Henry and fooled with the idea of parking up on the golf course. Instead we went over to the battlefield park and stared at the bluegreen statue of William Johnson and King Hendrick. Then we went back down onto the common.

Steve and Shelly lay in the grass and started making out. Steve rolled on top of her. It was almost night.

You and I sat there looking at the boats coming off the lake. The motels and cottages lit up the shoreline, like the bumpers and targets on a pinball playfield. The lake stretched out north as if it could never end.

You leaned into me, and since I wasn’t sure what to do next I let you lean into me. You put your head on my shoulder and slid your arm through mine. I wished I could smell your hair.

A few minutes later we were making out. I think that’s how it went. It’s not the part I remember.