The Night Kelly Got Her License

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley.

But when they did arrive, you can be damned sure that being called a ‘Valley Girl’ took on a whole new meaning for us.

****

Burbank, CA, 1991

“Turn it up, you guys!”

Kelly swerved her Mom’s station wagon down Niagara street, barely missing the old lemon tree jutting out from the corner property. We slid across the hot leather seats, banging into each other, bursting into another giggling reverie.

Oooo, oooooo! I wanna sex you up! A tick tock, ya don’t stop-stop, to the….

The hot July air blowing on my face felt divine as I leaned out the window, singing the lyrics of Color Me Badd at the top of my lungs. Ha! Look at that old couple, hating our volume. Look at that cute guy mowing his lawn. Look inside the car- no adults, only friends.

It was a rite of passage we could all feel in our bones: Kelly was the first in our group to get her driver’s license.

I WANNA SEX YOU UP! We screamed the last of the lyrics as Kelly careened into a stop. For the four of us girls, what we had at our feet was freedom: an unpredictable, hot, summer Saturday night. The evening held many possibilities - burgers and fries, makeup at the drugstore, maybe even a quick stop at Chad’s house- but the one thing the night would NOT possess is timing a pickup/drop-off from one of our parents.

Kelly had her license!!

“Rachel, remember I called shotgun next!,” I yelled.

“Whatever, Charlie!” Rachel’s long, elegant fingers flipped me off from the front seat, batting at me with her oval green eyes and coy smile, tossing her long blonde hair over her shoulder.

“Shut up!,” I laughed, kicking her seat.

Deep down I felt a familiar lurch that I was a little worried she’d get to ride shotgun all night, as somehow no matter how life went, it always seemed to go good for Rachel. As the only sophomore to have snagged a senior boyfriend last year, everyone knew that Rachel Johannsen was as cool as any Upperclassmen on campus. Cooler, even. And seeing that we were about to be Juniors, she’d be the only high schooler to have that same boyfriend away at college.

Rachel probably knew what the lyric ‘I Wanna Sex You Up’ meant, too, I pondered, staring at a small pink house where two massive dogs were laying on a porch swing. I took in the pleasant smell of grilled meat wafting down the tree lined street with Griffith Park framed majestically in the distance. I secretly wondered, for the millionth time, if it was some sort of intercourse position proposal- ‘Sex you UP’- like the man and woman stood up? Or was ‘up’ a feeling they both had while they were doing it? I sure as heck didn’t know- I’d never even kissed a boy. But in my classic ‘Everyone thinks Charlie’s cool because she’s the aloof athlete who sort of laughs at a distance at things but really in truth doesn’t know what the hell is going on and is too terrified to talk about her feelings so she keeps her mouth shut’ way: I didn’t ask about it.

“Let’s go get burgers, bitches!,” yelled Gwen. She and I were sharing the backseat and per usual, she was what drove a lot of our volume, our silliness, our escapades. She had insisted on buying Kelly a tiara and glueing the words ‘DRIVING QUEEN’ on the front; it now lay trampled under our feet. But for that brief moment when Kelly had worn it, it was the most dumb, perfect, and hilarious touch on Kelly’s day of triumph. Like most things Gwen did, it was what we would remember.

The Southern California sky was orange as the sun set over Burbank. Palm trees were framed by pink clouds, blowing gently in the warm breezes, while we continued to pass lemon trees gathered in front yards and sidewalks. For a brief second the car settled into an unanimous silence, the warm dusk dangled in time. My mind flashed on Junior year up ahead, with its hopes for Track scholarships and college tours and AP chemistry courses with Mr. Pickens. I felt held between the ease of the moment with my friends inside the calm of a summer night with nothing to do, and the pressure of the unknown future- the pressure of inching toward ‘getting older.’ An apprehensive breath caught in my chest.

“Bob’s Big Boy it is!,” yelled Kelly, her short brown hair flapping under her Dodgers hat. She was definitely my closest friend of the group. She and I had lived all of our lives in Burbank; we liked to tout we were each other’s first and oldest friend. We had given each other two halves of the ‘Best Friends’ Heart necklace in 7th grade, and never told anyone else. Although the four of us girls were as thick as thieves, Kel and I would always, in our hearts, be each other’s number one.

Kelly was one of the few that had actually known my Dad, before he disappeared. She always called me to hang out on Father’s Day, and she normalized talking about him- the memory of him, funny stories about him. She and I had been playing together in the front yard the day the cops came to report they’d found his car deep in the Santa Monica Mountains, near what looked to be a recent rock slide. I think the worst of it for my Mom was that they’d never found a body. One day, her husband went for a hike; the next day, he was gone. The gaping black hole that had threatened my family afterward was somehow eased by Kelly, her folks and four siblings, with constant casseroles and Memorial Day parties and Christmas cookie baking. Somehow, the Dunn family had helped my Mother, brother and me turn from a potential dark abyss to the possibilities of tomorrow, regulating our carpools and homework and trips to the beach and my Mom’s job at Bob Hope Airport. My Dad’s vanishing had left behind a grieving wife, lonely 8 year old twins and a mortgage; Kelly’s family affirmed we’d survive.

My Dad. I never thought of him. I always thought of him. A familiar dull ache ran through my body, and I shifted in my seat.

****

“Shit. Chad’s Grandparents are there.”

Rachel hung up the pay phone in the drugstore parking lot, silhouetted by the street lamp in the dark. We were stuffed to the brim with Bob’s Big Boy fries and shakes, and had just finished buying matching bright green Lee Press On nails. Gwen was already peeling hers off and sticking them to her T-shirt.

“What does that mean?,” asked Kelly.

“That he’s obligated to hang out with them. That we can’t go over there tonight.”

Chad had one of those huge houses in Toluca Lake, across the street from Warner Brothers, with a pool, hot tub, and screening room. His Dad was a hotshot producer; he was always trying to convince Rachel she should get an agent and start auditioning for movies.

“When does he leave for Berkeley again?,” I asked.

“Ugh. Four weeks from today. Don’t remind me.” Rachel came and rested her head on my shoulder as we leaned against the station wagon. “It sucks so bad.”

“I know,” I said softly, rubbing her back. I didn’t know. I’d never had a boyfriend.

“Like honestly? The closer it gets, the more I’m just like- why didn’t he stay here and go to UCLA? I know it’s not about me but like- it IS sort of about our relationship, you know? Like at least a little bit?”

“Totally.”

Kelly and Gwen were bursting into giggle fits as they pressed some of the green nails onto Gwen’s glasses and black curly hair.

“Do you guys talk about it?”

“It’s like all we talk about,” Rachel smirked. “But at this point, like, he knows how I feel, and I know he’s going.” She sighed.

“You guys are totally going to be okay. He’s, like, obsessed with you,” I said, giving her a tight squeeze. She smiled, burying her head in my shoulder.

“Oof?!”

Kelly and Gwen jumped on top of us. The four of us squeezed and swayed, as Gwen threw her head back yelling “Kelly can drive, Burbank!! THIS IS A NIGHT TO REMEMBER!!” We all burst into laughter, our voices cascading up into the night sky. Giggling, I bent down to the pavement, picking up some press on nails that had fallen off of Gwen, when suddenly a flash caught my eye, next to the drugstore. I jolted up and stared.

Something about the blurred image- it tugged at me. I found myself walking toward the alley that led behind the drugstore, quickly stepping over and around some garbage and a few dumpsters.

“Charlie, what are you doing?!” Kelly had darted ahead of the other two girls, as they all yelled after me.

Following the long alleyway, I hurriedly walked into the small clearing behind the store. Empty. Kelly, Rachel and Gwen came careening around the corner.

“Charlie, what’s wrong??”

“What’s going on!?”

“Ew, this is so creepy back here!”

I looked around, feeling sheepish. There wasn’t a soul about. Just a dingy overhead light hanging over the back entrance to the drugstore, and one small metallic cellar door embedded into the ground.

“Nothing, I just….” I stopped, staring at the light above the cellar. It was swinging- but just. Barely noticeable. My eyes slowly traveled down from the light, to the cellar door, and though I could barely make it out in the dark, I noticed- it was slightly ajar. I steadily walked over to it, kneeling down.

“O my God, what are you doing Charlie?! I’m like scared you guys, for real!,” Rachel shrieked.

I could feel the strange pull I’d felt a minute ago, completely compelled- I slowly opened the top of the cellar and peered down its gaping hole. A very faint blue light emerged, and in it I could see a staircase winding its way down into the dark. There wasn’t any other store paraphernalia or storage- just the staircase.

SLAM! Kelly yanked the door from my hand, shutting it closed. “Dude- like – what is happening?!”

“I- Pickens! I just saw Mr. Pickens running down the alley back this way. I mean I think I saw him. I’m pretty sure I saw him!”

The three girls stared at me wide-eyed for a brief second, before bursting into laughter.

“Pickens??,” squealed Gwen. “Like honestly, can you imagine if he was hanging out in an empty drugstore parking lot on a Saturday night?!”

The girls continued to cackle while I tried to sort my thoughts. Mr. Pickens was our eccentric chemistry teacher, always spouting wild theories about the earth and molecules and how we were all mere DNA strands away from having a totally different planet. His fiery red hair and big glasses would bob and bounce while he passionately encouraged his classes to think big things, and ask big questions. Though students laughed at him, they also loved him, for he made learning fun, and never made anyone feel diminished if they were having trouble understanding the concepts. I, especially, had a soft spot for him- he and my Dad had both been chemistry teachers at the high school, and they’d been really close before my Dad disappeared. They were devoted buddies, always in cahoots over fossil findings and archeological digs and experiments in the school lab. Mr. Pickens looked out for my brother Sam and me, and made me feel I was special, and he was constantly repeating the same thing, though I never quite grasped what he meant: Pay attention, Ms. Charlotte. Always pay close attention.

I blinked, rubbing my temples. A slight wave of vertigo washed over me, while piecemeal images of running and darkness darted in and out of my head.

Something about this cellar door...

“I have to go down those stairs,” I said quietly.

The girls continued to guffaw, poking affectionate fun at Pickens’ short height and bright checkered shirts.

“I have to go down those stairs,” I said, louder, clearing my throat.

Mid-chortle, they all sort of cocked their heads in my direction, staring at me blankly.

“What?,” Kelly said.

“I have to go down those stairs. Sorry, I- I know I’m being weird- I need to like- check something out.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I can’t explain it, Rachel. You guys don’t have to come with me. I just-”

“Charlie, this is just like the store’s basement or something. Do you think Mr. Pickens- or whoever you think you saw- went down there?” I appreciated Kelly even attempting to take me seriously, while Rachel and Gwen looked at me like I was crazy.

“I DID see Mr. Pickens,” I said, a growing frustration in my voice. I could feel a shift from caring what my friends thought to the increasing need to go down those steps.

I turned toward the cellar and banged open the top again, a wave of nerves flooding my tummy as I squinted into the hole below. Suddenly I had a flash of my Dad’s face, in a dim blue light, squeezing me tight, whispering “I’ll see you soon Charlie-bear.” I closed my eyes against the buzzing of the girls’ voices all swirling at once- your curfew is almost here! Let’s just tell someone in the store! What’s wrong, Charlie?! You guys should we do it though? No don’t do it!

“GUYS.” They all looked at me, trepidation lining their faces, trying to absorb their normally quiet and reserved best friend. “I’ve been here before.”

With that, I firmly planted both feet on top of the stairwell, and began the descent into the darkness below.

*****

Rachel was the first to totally freak out, after about one minute along the narrow path underground.

I was amazed at how determined I’d felt, which knocked aside any obvious fears I might have had, as my friends followed me down the cellar stairs. For better or worse, none of them wanted to leave me, and through a cacophony of back and forths, they’d reluctantly acquiesced when Gwen finally concluded remember- we said this was a night to remember.

I calculated, with shock, that the staircase had taken us about 30 feet below ground. What had started as an iron clad series of bars and rungs transitioned halfway down into old, wooden steps, embedded into a gigantic rock wall. The dim blue light continued as we made our way down, from what seemed to be a sparse series of miniature lights that were haphazardly protruding out from the rocks.

The lower we got, the more the girls’ protests and giggles and sputters got quiet, turning into whispered, fearful fascination of the changing landscape and where the stairs were heading. I felt as if I were under a spell- I had to figure out why this place felt familiar, I thought, running my hands over the dusty granite jutting out all around us.

Once we reached the ground, the sharp mountainous walls seemed all encompassing, looming tall in every direction. We held our collective breath; this place felt massive. Ancient. Silent. It was only after I turned and began walking along a dark narrow path with more blue lights, when Rachel finally said-

“You guys- you guys?! What the hell?! Charlie!! This is insane!”

… ane-ane-ane!

Her words reverberated throughout the deep canyon, pinging off of the many jagged peaks that seemed to reach far in front of us. It was freezing down here in this chasm. Were we outside? Inside? I couldn’t tell.

“Seriously,” Rachel continued, her teeth chattering from the cold. The three of them were hanging back a few feet from me near the staircase, having stopped short. “This is nuts. It’s crazy we found it but like- let’s leave now.”

Kelly took a step toward me in the dark, her face shrouded by the eerie blue light. I saw her search my face, and my eyes. She knew I buried myself, deep inside, and she was so good about waiting for me to come around, if I ever did at all. What are you looking for, her eyes implored. It’s okay, whatever it is. It’s so strange, whatever it is.

“Charlie,” she said softly. “This is like totally amazing we found this place. We will for sure figure out when you’ve been here before when we go back up. But maybe we’ve gone far enough for now.”

I stood, facing them off, my lips pursed. I was taller than all of them by at least an inch; I had a lithe runner’s frame. A swirl of madness swam through my mind. I felt dumb for having come down here; I felt helpless as to why I felt so urgent about this place; I felt unreasonably mad at my friends for seeming happy all the time- Rachel with her beauty and boyfriend, Gwen with her silliness and laughs, Kelly with her perfect family.

I felt angry because they all had Fathers.

As I stared at Kelly I felt my chest squeeze and tears prick the corners of my eyes. I started to walk back toward them when suddenly-

“AHHHHH!”

We whirled around at Gwen’s scream, staring down the dark pathway, as we saw a figure running toward us with a head lamp. We huddled together, backing up into the nearest crevice. Kelly clumsily grabbed her keys that had a Swiss army knife attached- she shakily held it out in front of her, fumbling to get it open.

“Shhhhh, please girls, shhhhhh!”

We squinted, bewildered. Though he spoke faintly, the voice was familiar.

He ran up to us, panting, his face emerging from the glow of the lamp.

“Mr. Pickens??,” I whispered, trembling.

“You must be quiet girls,” he said softly, his face scrunched in grave concern. “Or you will wake the dragons.”