The worst of summer was upon us. August 1956 was miserably hot. People in town were just plain sick of heat and humidity. Tired of being plastered with sweat. Of not being able to sleep at night. Nobody wanted to take out the garbage, ‘cuz those cans were cooking up a smelly stew. Crime was spiking – more domestic trouble, more street corner scuffles. A lot of folks went to the Savoy theater for the air conditioning, and stayed for as many showings of the main feature as they could. Until the ushers turned the lights on and shooed the audience out of their seats. It’s hell stepping back into that heat, after getting used to the cool.

I was going crazy at work and called out one morning. Just ditching that noose of a necktie for a day helped a lot. The Savoy mostly showed monster movies, but it only charged fifty cents, so it did good business. I was definitely going to spend my day there. I’d watched the main feature, Forbidden Planet, twice when Marge Caldwell came in by herself. She noticed me and I pretty much had to say hello across the aisle.

“Smart girl, Marge. This is the place to be on a hot August day.” A guy between us gave me a dirty look. I guess he couldn’t make out what Robby the Robot was saying over my yacking.

“You could sit over here, Stan, next to me.” I was on the fence about that. Marge had a nice figure, but her face, at best, was plain. Maybe that combination explained why she was known to be easy. I ended up being polite and switched my seat over, next to her. She wore a pretty revealing sundress, lots of flowers on it that draped her every curve.

“You seen this one, Marge? It’s a swell picture.”

“I don’t give a hoot about the movie. I’m just here for the air conditioning. Anything to get out of that heat.”

“You’re welcome to share my popcorn.”

“Thanks, it’ll just make me thirsty. That’s how they swindle you here, the cost of drinks and snacks.” But she absent-mindedly picked at my bucket, and I ended up buying her a ginger ale. We sat through the feature and then they cleared the theater. I was back in that lousy heat, and now I had Marge to consider as well. Somehow we ended up at my apartment. I had a fan, it helped a little. But soon we were both drenched in sweat. Her dress stuck to her skin. Don’t think I didn’t notice.

“A cold beer would be nice,” she said. I walked across the street to the corner store and picked up a six-pack. I was inviting trouble, I realized. That’s what the heat’ll make you do. She drank two of the beers and I had the other four. We jawed about the election. She was for Adlai and I liked Ike. The topic wasn’t important – it was just part of the dance, if you catch my drift. We were coming around to things. Now I had to make a decision. With four beers in me, I probably made the wrong decision. Hell, we were already covered in sweat. I aimed the fan right across my bed, and she pulled me down on top of her.

The only thing I hate about getting involved with a gal is that damned waiting. Waiting for her to tell me she had her monthly visitor. Makes me a nervous wreck. Well, Marge didn’t have hers. She had me circled. I would have to marry her, and quickly. The only thing I liked about that whole situation was, boy or girl, we’d call the kid Robby. After the robot in Forbidden Planet. The rest, I had a bad feeling about.

All too common a story? Happens all the time? Yeah, sure. But my whole mess probably wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for that stinkin’ heat wave. It made me do something I wouldn’t normally have done. I’m sure it took its toll on plenty of others as well.