Don't Be The Charlie Browniest-The Further Tales of Charlie Brown

I get Charlie Brown. . .no, I really do. . .I get the whole thing of what makes Charlie Brown tick.  He can take the unappreciative dog, his philisophical friend Linus and that bastion of Evil, Lucy, forever pulling the ever loving football out from under his dreams. But yet, day in and day out he goes on, because he believes in one thing: hope. He has hopes that one day The Little Curly Haired Red Headed girl will finally take notice of him and perhaps one day. . . .sit next to him. For year after year the seasons would come and go and with each passing season his feelings for the Little Curly Haired Red Headed girl never faded. Each day he believed, with his heart of hearts that she would stop and say hello to him.  But the days went on, the years went by and by most accounts, The Little Curly Haired Red headed girl went her own way.  Now the story could have ended there, but believe it or not, it didn't.  No, because I know how the rest of the story ended, and being the narrator of sorts, I have a right to tell it to you.

Charlie Brown found himself in the big city, working at a big firm, making the big bucks, coming home, putting his feet up, sitting next to the stuffed remains af Snoopy and Lucy, life was good, or so he thought. He was still lonely. The great Central Park view, the nightly parties, the fame. . . it all meant nothing because there was no one to share it with. Well, let me rephrase, no one worthy to share it with.  His first marriage to Violet never worked, leaving him almost penniless, but he built his way back up to the successful man he is today. And then, as he leaned back, the NY Times art sections at his feet, he noticed a story about an aspiring chef who opened up the most exclusive bakery in all of Manhatten. It was called Curly Cakes. And it was her. . . his eyes blinked many times before he could focus on the woman in the picture. It was twenty-plus years later, but it was her; The Little Curly Red Headed Girl. . .  smiling, making cupcakes. He quickly picked up the paper. . it was her. . .it was Heather. . . . the little Curly Haired Red headed girl was making cupcakes and her name was Heather. . .and she was simply a cab ride away.  Just a quick ride.

Charlie Brown laid awake that night, staring at the ceiling, thinking sleep would come, but no, it would not this night, like so many nights before. This night would be different though, because tonight there would be no high gas prices creeping from his closet or screaming candidates trying to get his vote from under the bed. No, tonight, it would be The Little Curly Haired Red Headed girl. But she was not little any more. . . she was a tall beautiful woman and Charlie turned on the bedside lamp to look at her picture again, for the millionth time.  She was holding a large tray of cupcakes with American flags on them. .  and he noticed another thing. . .no ring on her finger.  He turned the lamp back off and suddenly all his voices in his head which guided his life thus far started to join in.

"What if she's seeing someone. .someone that pretty must have many boyfriends" 

"What if she lives with many people and cooks for them and only them? Would she ever make me a cupcake?"

"Will she still care that I'm bald at 40, just like being bald at 10?"

"She never cared before!  Wait, that was because she never noticed me"

"I bet she's got such a hip life, going to all the hip parties, dancing with a Baldwin or two, tossing rock and roll cupcakes at Steven Tyler. Does she even like Aerosmith??"  He had little clue of Aerosmith and whether she like them or not, she liked classic crooners he once heard, but that could've been a rumor.

Today was Saturday, he would zip up his old classic zig zag jacket--which by the way, a collector was willing to pay $500 to Charlie for it. Nope, not this jacket. The mid October wind was whipping up as he stood in front of her bakery. There she was. . . she was smiling, working with a customer.  He backed up a bit, waited for the customer to leave and then he slowly walked in. At first she wasn't sure if she knew him at all, but then almost in a second, she knew that it could be only one person.

"Charlie?  Charlie Brown?"   she asked, walking towards him. He gulped.

"Um, I go by Charles now.  Um. . a bit more profressional."   She threw down the two spoons she was holding and reached out and kissed him hard, then slapped him in the face.

"You stupid man!  You stupid, stupid, stupid man!"  She yelled then walked back behind the counter. Charlie Brown followed her.

"I don't get it. What do you mean?  You never once noticed me, never once gave me the time of day!"   He yelled back.  She put her hands on her hips and shook her head.

"Every Friday, Saturday and Sunday afternoon when you were just out of college you and that goofy guy would come  into DiMaggio's. Why did you come in there!! Hmm?? It certainly wasn't for the pizza? So why?"  She asked.  Charlie Brown looked down, unsure at first of what answer to give. He didn't want to blow this possible shot of at least sitting with his dream girl. He straightened up and smiled.

"I was afraid.   Little. . . uh. . . Heath. . . . Heather. . I was scared!"   This was the best he could do?  He had this exact conversation in his head a million times and it never went like this.

"Scared! Yes!  I was afraid that I'd ask you out and you'd. . . .you'd pull the football away from me. . . . I would land on my back, dejected, like a million times before. I never cared if I was dejected by a million other girls, I just couldn't allow myself to be let down and dejected by you. You. . you. . . you were my dream girl. . . you were the one who got away, and then you did go away. .off to France and Italy while I stayed here, alone. .I have everything in the world and still I was lonely. And now. . . I've returned. . .  ready to take what was meant for me, what belongs to me!"     Charlie never really yelled before, maybe to hail a taxi, but there he was, in the middle of a bakery yelling at the woman he once loved and still loved and would love forever. . . . if she would have him. Perhaps too many years have gone by, perhaps she never liked his zig zag jacket. A million thoughts raced through his mind until she spoke.

"I came back, searching for you. . I didn't know you were even out there anymore. I got married, an uptight old businessman. He hated me, I hated him. . . but I bore him his demon kids until finally I had enough. We divorced and I opened up this bakery. One of my two dreams I've only ever had."   She said and then turned away.  Charlie followed after her.

"What about your other dream?"  He asked. She turned around and looked at him with her beautiful eyes, her hair, not as red, but still, it cascaded down around her shoulders, framing the most beautiful face he ever saw, he would ever see, the face he dreamt about for all those years.

"It was you. . .  . it was always you.  You were the only one who ever pined for me. .the only one who ever had hope against hope, regardless of how the world treated you, you had hope and you never gave up."  She told him, eyes down, looking at the ground, like she was too shy to say how she felt.

The Little, I mean Heather and Charlie, uh, excuse me, Charles hugged and kissed. They always knew it would feel right and it did, erasing all the lonely and sad years between them in a magical moment.   The lights dimmed, the narrator comes to the front of the stage( I always wanted to do that, ever since Thorton Wilder's "Our Town")

The narrator clears his throat, adjusts his suspenders and nodds his head.

"So what did we learn from this story of true ever lasting love?" Well, never give up hope. Always kick that football, with Lucy attatched if you have to and never ever be the most Charlie Browniest of all the Charlie Browns.  Take that hope and burst right through. Take those chances when they come. Don't let that little evil lass steal your football from out under your dreams.  And that is pretty much it. Thanks for listening. Good night