3WW #52

Welcome to Three Word Wednesday. Each week, I will post three (or more) words. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to write something using all of those words. It can be a few lines, a story, a poem, anything. I’ll also attempt to write something using the same words.

Leave a comment if you participate. Many fun and interesting people might visit your blog.

This week’s words are:
Original
Racket
Skipping

The original plan had been to pick up Marsha and bring her back to his house to listen to his new Manfred Mann album on the Hi-Fi. But things began to go awry when Woody put on the record and the needle skipped right to the end.

He tried again. Same thing.

Woody glanced nervously over at the blonde girl sitting on the sofa. There she was, the head cheerleader and bank president’s daughter, looking like something out of a magazine he’d looked thru for the pictures but had never read. This date was a huge deal. At least that’s what his friends kept saying.

Woody fished around in his pocket, retrieving a penny, which he put on the turntable arm. It was still skipping.

Darn that Clarence, Woody thought to himself, certain his little brother had been using his records as frisbees again.

“I’m sorry, Marsha. I guess the record got scratched. Do you want to listen to something else?”

“No. I really had my heart set on Manfred Mann.”

“Oh, uh, I see. Well, would you like a soda or anything?”

“No. Could you just take me home?” She seemed put off by the whole episode. “If we leave now, I can still make it to Marcy McRae’s party.”

“Sure, I… guess so. Just let me tell Dad I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Halfway across town, his parents’ twelve-year-old Studebaker began making an awful racket.

“What’s that noise?!” Marsha asked, covering her ears, a pained expression on her face.

“Uh, I’m not sure.”

Woody stopped the car. He got out and opened the hood but had no idea what he was looking for. He walked around to Marsha’s window.

“I guess we’d better walk the rest of the way to your house.”

“That’s eight blocks from here! It’ll mess up my brand new shoes. I’m not walking that far. Besides it looks like rain.”

Woody looked to the sky. She was right. About that time, Archie Wilson happened by in his new Mustang.

“Hey Marsha, need a ride?”

“Oh, I sure do,” Marsha responded. “Thank heavens.” As she got out of the Studebaker, she turned to Woody. “Thanks for the worst date ever.”

She got in the car with Archie and they sped away. Woody rolled up the car windows and locked the doors. Then he began walking slowly towards home, disheartened. He barely noticed the soaking rain that had begun to fall.

It would take him three weeks to save up enough allowance to buy another Manfred Mann album.

“I could’ve been a good man, mmm yeah, a good man and not a jerk. If things could’ve been different, we coulda had some changes made. But you went away child. Lord knows you should’ve stay-ay-ayed…”