I Am Skippy Wellington
~ A Short Story by Allen Kopp ~

I had fifteen minutes before bus time, so I sat down on one of the ratty seats with part of the stuffing coming out. It was Friday night of a difficult week and I felt terrible. My toothache was killing me, I felt a cold coming on, and I had heartburn from the spicy goulash I had for dinner. I took another pain pill for my tooth and was beginning to feel sleepy when somebody sat down beside me. I turned my head and saw it was Skippy Wellington.

“How are you, Dickie?” she said.

I was surprised, not only that she would speak to me, but that she knew my name.

“Just wonderful,” I said, sounding more cheerful than I felt.

“I’m Skippy Wellington,” she said.

“Yes, I know.”

“Isn’t it funny that we should both be at the bus station at the same time?”

“Yes, isn’t it?”

“I hate the bus station, so it’s good to have somebody to talk to while I wait.”

“Yes, the bus station is, uh, ugly.”

“How do you like college so far?”

“It’s all right.”

“You’re in your first year?”

“Second.”

“I’ll bet you’re finding college much different from high school, aren’t you?”

“Well, I have to study more.”

“What’s your major?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“I guess you can decide that later on, when you’re farther along.”

“That’s the plan.”

“As for me,” Skippy said, “I have a double major. English and drama. I want to be an actress and if that doesn’t work out, I guess I’ll teach English. I was in one Drama Guild production in the fall. Now I’m studying another part in another play, to be staged in the spring. If you’ve ever carried the lead in a play, you know how much work it is.”

“No, I haven’t ever done that,” I said, realizing how stupid I sounded.

“And, you know, I don’t like the roommate I have now. Her name is Rocky. Isn’t that absurd? A girl named Rocky! If I can make it through another week without strangling her, it’ll be a miracle!

“Why don’t you ask to move to a different room?”

“I have, but there isn’t a vacant room for me to move to now. I’ll have to wait until somebody drops out.”

“I was lucky to get an end room,” I said. “No roommate.”

“Yes, that was lucky. Where do you room?”

“Prentiss Hall.”

“Well, isn’t that a coincidence? That’s where my boyfriend rooms. You must know him. His name is Peter Piper.”

“Yes, I know him. He’s on my floor. I mean, we both room on the same floor.”

“Isn’t Peter something? He’s just the all-American boy, isn’t he?”

“The truth is, I don’t know him all that well. We don’t move in the same circles.”

She laughed. “You are funny, you know that?”

“No, I didn’t realize it until now.”

“He’s very good-looking, don’t you think, with his blond good looks?”

“I haven’t ever thought about it.”

“Hah-hah-hah! Oh, Dickie! Come on, now! You can admit to me that you find Peter attractive. I won’t think you’re gay.”

“Well, I guess the casual observer might find him attractive.”

“The casual observer! Hah-hah-hah! You are original!”

“Is that my bus? I think I just heard my bus! I don’t want to miss it!”

“No, it isn’t your bus yet, Dickie. Do you talk much to Peter? You know, man to man?”

“I hardly talk to him at all. A couple times in the TV lounge is all. He offered me a cigarette one time, but I didn’t take it because I don’t smoke.”

“You never heard him talk about girls or dates he’s been out on or anything like that?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“You see, I’m terribly in love with him. We’ve discussed getting married when we’re both finished with school, but I’m not too sure about him. I know a lot of people find him as terribly attractive as I do. When he tells me he’s in love with me and wants to spend his whole life with me, I’m not sure how seriously I can take him. Do you know what I mean?”

“I think I do.”

“You’re never heard him say anything about a girl named Doris? She’s a biology major.”

“No, I don’t know her.”

“I’ve heard that Doris calls him up all the time, and she makes sure she’s in the places where she knows he’ll be. She is so forward! She’s such a swine and will do anything, I’m sure, to take him away from me! I’m terribly jealous. Oh, this is all too much! You probably think I’m just being silly, don’t you?”

“No, it’s okay.”

“I’d like to strangle Doris.”

“I won’t tell anybody.”

“If we wait two or three years before we get married, I’m afraid I’ll lose him. I won’t be able to hold onto him that long with so many different girls after him.”

“That’s a tough one.”

“But if I go ahead and marry him now, I can kiss my acting career goodbye. You see, he doesn’t approve. He thinks women should be traditional like his mother and not be interested in bettering themselves. He thinks I’m just being silly when I say I want to be an actress. He doesn’t take me seriously as a person. Do you take me seriously as a person?”

“Sure.”

“I’m terribly serious about my acting. After I’ve acted on the stage for a few years—and I mean the real stage and not college productions—I plan to go to Hollywood. I think I have what it takes to make it big. People have told me I have talent; I know I have talent. I also have the drive and the ambition, which are just as important as talent.”

“Do you have your bags packed? That’s important, too.”

“Hah-hah-hah! Since you and Peter room on the same floor, I was wondering if you’d be willing to help me out.”

“Help you out how?”

“Well, it’s kind of a delicate situation. Keep your eyes and ears open and see if you see or hear anything.”

“Like what?”

“Well, boys love to talk about their conquests and things. They love to brag.”

“Peter would never brag to me.”

“I know, but you room on the same floor with him. You’re bound to see and hear things. Not only from Peter but from somebody else.”

“Are you saying you want me to spy on Peter for you?”

“Oh, no! Nothing like that! I just thought that if you do happen to come by any knowledge that you think might be of any interest to me you wouldn’t mind passing it along.”

“Oh, I don’t know…”

“I’d be willing to pay you!”

“Oh, no! I couldn’t take…”

“I know this is asking a lot, but you’re such a sweet and sensitive boy that I was certain I’d be able to talk to you about just anything.”

“This is not really what…”

My phone number is in the student directory. Skippy Wellington. Call me any time, on any subject. It doesn’t have to be only about Peter. I knew the moment I started talking to you that you and I are simpatico. If you’re ever having trouble finding a date, I know dozens of girls who would be thrilled to death to go out with you!”

“Finding a date has never been my problem.”

“Hah-hah-hah! You are so funny!”

“Here’s my bus,” I said. “I have to go.”

I stood up and she stood up beside me.

“Have a wonderful weekend!” she said.

She surprised me by putting her arms around me and kissing me on the lips. Her lips tasted like wax. I didn’t especially like it, but I can’t say I disliked it, either.

The bus wasn’t crowded; there were plenty of empty seats. I took a seat close to the back on the left side. I had a three-hour ride ahead of me and I hoped to spend most of it sleeping.

My conversation with Skippy Wellington had reinvigorated me; I felt better now. I was sure she was flirting with me. Nobody ever said to me the kind of things she said, about how I was sweet and kind and any girl would be lucky to know me. I considered Peter Piper an arrogant jerk, and I was sure Skippy could do better than him. What if she found she preferred me over him? What is she just gave him the go-by and told me she wanted to be with me instead of him? It’s true I wasn’t as good looking as he was, but I had other things that he didn’t have. I had depth and sensitivity and maturity. I used good English and I bathed regularly.

The bus hit a bump in the highway and jolted me out of my reverie. When I looked out the window, I couldn’t see anything. We might have run over a person or a grizzly bear, for all I knew. This stretch of highway was hilly and curvy and worse in the dark. As we rounded the curves and slowed for the hills, I always wondered if we were going to make it or not.

And then it started to rain, at first a little bit and then a lot. Soon the rain was pounding the windows mercilessly. The tires hissed, as if holding on to the highway for dear life. I had felt better, but now I felt worse again. My stomach was churning. I’d try to sit still and not think about anything and, if I was lucky, I’d go to sleep and not wake up again until we reached our destination.

I did drift off to sleep, but it didn’t last long. The bus hit an icy patch and veered off the highway on a curve, first the front tires and then the rest of the bus. Some of the passengers near the front of the bus screamed.

The driver struggled to get control, but it was no use. From where I sat, I could see he was losing the battle. The bus tipped over; we rolled down an embankment. It was while we were rolling that I lost consciousness.

I might have been dead because I didn’t know anything after that. I wasn’t aware when they lifted me out of the wreckage of the bus and took me away.

I woke up in a strange place. I was in a high bed. I thought I was back at school, but I didn’t recognize anything. My mother was standing over me, looking down at me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked her.

“You were in an accident.”

“What kind of an accident?”

“The bus you were in rolled down a hill and crashed.”

“Is Skippy here, too?”

“Who is Skippy? Is he a friend of yours from school? You’ve been babbling about Skippy the whole time.”

“What whole time?”

“You’ve been out.”

“Out where?”

“Unconscious. You know.”

“Am I going to die?’

“The doctor says you’ll be all right, but it’s going to take some time. You have a fractured jaw bone, a broken collar bone, and your right arm is broken in two places.”

“I need to get back to school. I need to see Skippy.”

“And besides all that, you have a brain concussion. I think you can forget about Skippy for a while.”

“I’m afraid Skippy might be hurt.”

“You don’t need to worry about anything now except your own self. You’re going to have a long road to recovery.”

“Skippy. Skippy. I need to see my Skippy.”

“Don’t you worry about your Skippy. I’m sure he’s all right, or we would have heard.”

I groaned and turned my head on the pillow to keep from having to see my mother’s face. I saw a nurse with red hair and a clock on the wall with a blank face, and then I fell back into a deep sleep.

Copyright © 2023 by Allen Kopp