Bob Weaver had lusted after Justine since senior year at Wellington High School. She was the captain of the cheerleaders. He was “the Dweeber,” an anagram of his middle initial and last name. For Justine, the highpoint of her high school years had been being named homecoming queen. For Bob, it was making it through a day without being pantsed. Bob wanted nothing more than to graduate. Actually, he wanted nothing more than for Justine to notice him even if it meant she was laughing at him.
Now, seven years later, with a degree in chemical engineering from Penn State and a high paying job in the nuclear defense industry, Bob looked nothing like “the dweeber.” He would be unrecognizable to his high school classmates. The summer after graduation had brought a transformation of major proportions. A late growth spurt caused Bob to reach 6’3.” He gained 20 pounds, joined a gym and hired a personal trainer. The kid who could not run one lap around the football field had won the Boston Marathon in record setting time. He hefted 300 pounds and had biceps that bulged against even the loosest tee shirts.
Bob’s metamorphosis continued in college. Gaining weight and exercising caused a structural change in his face. No longer pudgy, his high cheek bones and cleft chin gave him an aristocratic air. Having slumped his way through life for so many years, few people ever saw his startling blue eyes and long lashes. With head held high, those eyes mesmerized passersby. The perfect combination of beauty, brains and brawn made Bob popular with both guys and gals. He was voted person most likely to succeed and was sought after by fraternity brothers and sorority sisters alike. The brothers wanted a drinking buddy and the sisters wanted, well, what the sisters wanted was obvious from the way their eyes raked Bob’s body. His options were plentiful. He felt like an explorer in virgin territory.
Bob returned home once a year – during the Christmas holidays. His real life was thousands of miles away in southern California. When he was home, he spent his time watching television, reading or going to the movies. His only concession to his mother’s demands that he “… join in the fun” was going to the South Florida Fair. Every January, he walked the midway pretending to enjoy himself while his family rode the Ferris Wheel and ate corn dogs. Every January, except 2014.
While licking the sticky sweetness of cotton candy from his fingertips, a loud scream caused Bob to turn his head. Rather than fear, the scream Bob heard was filled with youthful joy. As his eyes took in the crowd, he saw a familiar face reaching up to take an enormous teddy bear from the hands of the carnie running the gaming booth. Justine! Bob’s heart began to pound. His mouth went dry. He was once again that besotted teenager pining away for his lost love.
Bob followed Justine who was walking with girls he recognized from high school. “Some people never grow up,” he thought to himself. The teddy bear was almost life sized and Justine juggled it clumsily. Bob saw his opportunity.
Walking up to Justine, he reached for the teddy bear and offered assistance. “Seems to me that this bear should be carrying you.”
New Bob smiled at Justine; his blue eyes holding her captive. “If you let me, I will carry him to your car for you.” Justine blushed. “Oh, thank you. He is heavy. I’m Justine”
“I’m Robert.”
“Have we met?” Justine asked, a look of confusion on her face.
“Once having met you, I know I would never forget you,” Bob said by way of answer.
As her friends moved off, Justine led Bob to her car in the farthest reaches of the parking lot. She kept casting glances in his direction, searching for answers to questions that had not yet formed.
“You do look familiar. Tell me your name again.”
“Robert… Bob… Bob D. Weaver.”
“Bob D. Weaver… why does that sound… oh, my God, you’re the dweeber.” Justine grabbed for the teddy bear. “Give that to me. Why didn’t you say who you were? You are just as creepy now as you were in high school. Go away.”
“Why are you being mean to me? What did I ever do to make you hate me?”
“Once a dweeber, always a dweeber!” Justine lifted the stuffed animal as high as she could and began to run across the parking lot.
Bob yelled after her, “Please, let’s put the past behind us. Just take back what you said and we can start all over.”
“I will never take it back! Dweeber!” Justine’s voice faded away as she put distance between herself and Bob.
Hours later, the midway dark and the music of the carousel silenced, a security guard walked through the parking lot. One car, lights on and engine running, was all that remained. As the guard got closer, he could see the silhouette of someone in the driver’s seat. That someone turned out to be an enormous teddy bear, its eyes dangling from the sockets. On the windshield, written in a sticky red substance, was the message, “You should have taken it back.”
The headline in the paper the following morning reported the disappearance of a local woman. She had last been seen at the Fairgrounds with friends. Those friends reported that she had left early due to a headache. They did not remember her meeting anyone. Surveillance tapes showed a photo of Justine walking with an unidentified man. In the photo, the man appeared translucent almost to the point of seeing through his body. His face was obscured.
On the obituary page that same day, there was a notice for the passing of Robert D. Weaver, a former Wellington resident, who had died a week earlier. A memorial service was being held at a local funeral home. Donations could be made to the Penn State Paranormal Research Society.
Donna Carbone is the Executive Director/Playwright in Residence at the Palm Beach Institute for the Entertainment Arts, where education through entertainment is the mission statement.
Please visit: pbinstituteforentertainmentarts.com