Four friends just out of high school spending their last consequence-free summer at the Jersey Shore in 1969 and how their experiences shaped the rest of their lives.

The Jersey Four

By Brad Renshaw

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2009 Brad Renshaw
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4490-0235-0

Contents

CHAPTER 1 THE FOUR.............................................1CHAPTER 2 THE SLEEPER..........................................6CHAPTER 3 THE BEACH, THE BABES, & THE B.S......................17CHAPTER 4 THE FOUR WITH THEIR FOUR.............................42CHAPTER 5 THE JUNE BASH........................................52CHAPTER 6 THE 4TH..............................................61CHAPTER 7 THE MOON WALK........................................74CHAPTER 8 THE REMATCH..........................................80CHAPTER 9 THE CAMPING TRIP.....................................87CHAPTER 10 THE LAST DANCE.......................................112CHAPTER 11 THE LONG GOODBYE.....................................128CHAPTER 12 THE HOMECOMING.......................................133

Chapter One

THE FOUR

James Tyrone McDonald; 'Doorway', 'Popeye', was the oldest son of former Marine gunnery sergeant J.T. McDonald, veteran of WWII and Korea, an old-fashioned, all American hero. Decorated like a Christmas tree, he even won the C.M.H. (Congressional Medal of Honor), but to everybody in the neighborhood he was just Jimmy's old man; Big Mac (before that goddamn sandwich). When he cut his grass in the summer with his shirt off you could see the scars he got from Guadalcanal, the big one on the right side of his back looked exactly like the state of Florida. The story was he caught some shrapnel saving two of his buddies. He dragged them to safety two hundred yards through enemy fire with a collapsed lung and a bullet hole through his calf.

Jimmy had a lot to look up to, not that he couldn't reach it. He was six two as a freshman in high school and when he graduated he was at least six four. Solid muscle, Hollywood looks, the toughest kid to ever come out of north Jersey. Nobody ever messed with Jimmy, not even the ass hole jocks that used to beg him to play football. He spent his spare time in a shit-hole refinery in Newark earning money for the summer. Stubborn as a mule, loyal to the people and things that mattered to him. He got his draft card and was joining the marines, just like his old man, no question about it. Quick tempered, and absolutely irresistible to women. Got more ass than a Beverly Hills proctologist. Knocked out the senior football quarterback and stole his girlfriend two weeks into his freshman year. Jimmy was a force of nature, or a freak of one, you knew it the second you met him, or was unlucky enough to catch the receiving end of one of his hay-makers.

Ronald Jerome Lipschitz; 'Twitch', 'Shitlips', swear to God, his name really was Lipschitz. When Jimmy first met him in the third grade after he moved to West Orange he accidentally pronounced his last name 'Shit Lips'. Got tormented like hell, until he became part of the Four. Smartest kid to ever come out of north Jersey, got accepted to every Ivy league school he applied to, full scholastic ride. They say he chose Princeton just so he could be closer to his three best friends. To say Ronnie was gifted would be an under statement, the guys I.Q. was almost off the charts.

He was an only child of the first real hippie parents that ever moved into north Jersey. They put something called solar panels on the roof of their house one summer and everybody thought they were crazy. But by that time Ronnie was so tight with Jimmy, Brad, and Sal that nobody dared give them any crap. Taught Brad how to set the pumps back at the gas station he worked at so they got free gas all through high school. Did his homework on the bus on the way to school. Tutored a ton of kids through high school for free (Sal thought he was crazy for not charging them), a natural-born teacher. Five seven, one forty soaking wet, but crazy brave, he'd take on anybody or try anything once. Jimmy said he was Barney Fife with the heart of George Patton. Opinionated, passionate, and cause-driven, voted most likely to succeed, but then bitch about the politics of it.

Salvatore DeMucci Bustolione; 'Landscape', 'Sally the Bus', 'Five By', 'Babe', Sally had more nicknames than rolls, the nicest tub o' shit you ever met. Five eight, two fifty, seventeen but looked thirty, started shaving when he was ten. Had a running tab at Smitty's Liquors when he was in Junior High. Sweetest, sweatiest, hairiest, horniest kid you ever saw but couldn't get laid in a whorehouse full of blind hookers.

Sal's mother went about three bills, easy, nobody ever saw her outside of her kitchen. She cooked, baked, and sauted her entire life, and talk about good eats, you gained three pounds walking into the place. His old man was connected to some big Italian family in the city, was kind of a legend, always had these huge guys hanging around the house. And the house? Looked like everybody else's on the block but walk in the door and it looked like the high roller suite at the Tropicana in Vegas. Everything was always covered in plastic and the rugs were always vacuumed. You couldn't touch anything or sit anywhere but the kitchen or the done-over basement, it was like a museum. When his folks weren't around in the early summer, Sal used to charge the kids in the neighborhood five bucks a pop to swim in the forty by twenty in-ground pool in the back, anything to make a buck. Great cook, impeccable dresser, could out-eat any human on earth. And if not for Ronnie, wouldn't have gotten past the seventh grade.

Robert James Bradshaw; 'Brad', the only normal one in the Jersey Four. Regular guy, nothing flashy, no interesting character traits like the other three, but the glue that holds them all together. The level-headed one, the voice of reason. His only loves are, in order; his girlfriend Maria (Sal's little sister), his car, and his three best friends. Has an invite to N.Y.U. in the fall, but his girl is still in high school, so that will be an argument in the making. His old man is a tough, union member, iron worker, who can't understand why he won't take his Dad's invite into the crew. His mom stays at home to take care of him and his two sisters, Colleen and Patty. He's torn between going to college, getting into the union and working the 'scrapers' with his old man, or getting serious with his girlfriend while still trying to hang out with his three buddies. Maria wants him to settle down with a family, Brad just wants to settle down with a beer.

On that first Monday in June, 1969, the only thing the Jersey Four worried about was getting down the shore before the friggin' tourists. Still hung over from all their weekend graduation parties, the last thing they wanted to do was sit there and wait for Sal, as they usually did. Jimmy, disgusted, shotgun as always, right arm draped forty-five degrees over the door, breaks the monotony, finally.

"Ronnie, you gonna' go in and get that hairy gorilla for us or what? I ain't sittin' here all friggin' day."

"No way I'm going in there. Mrs. B. thinks I'm malnourished, she's always trying to get me to eat."

"OK then Brad, it's up to you kid, go get him will ya'?" Jimmy says.

"Not a chance in hell. I was there for dinner yesterday with Maria, I'm still stuffed. He'll be here in a minute, I called him and told him to be ready."

"Like that'll make a difference with this guy." Jimmy says with contempt.

Sal emerges a second later, eating, of course. Hands the bowl of what looked like antipasto to his mother and gives her a kiss. Lumbers down the stairs, and tosses the fork he still had into the bushes. It lands with a clang amongst all the other forgotten silverware collected so far this year.

"OK Brad, back up the Bonnie, I got my trailer all set up over here."

As Brad backs his beloved, red '64 Pontiac Bonneville convertible up Sal's driveway to his trailer, Jimmy yells out from the car.

"You eat in the shower too over there Landscape?"

"No, hell no are you crazy? Well, fruit sometimes. Does fruit count?"

"Yeah fruit counts ya' friggin' jackass, and look at this, we bring suitcases and you bring a trailer. Every goddamn summer it's the same damn thing. It's the friggin' beach Sally, how much clothes you need?"

Sal tries to line up the trailer to the hitch on the car till Brad takes over. Sal couldn't line up a lamp plug to a wall socket.

"I sweat a lot, I need a lot of clothes. Besides, you dress to impress Jimmy. Someday you'll realize this my friend."

Jimmy drags him into the car by his shirt.

"Someday you're gonna' realize the taste of my knuckles on the back of your throat. Now GET in here."

Brad, laughing to himself, hooks up Sal's trailer and climbs into the car. Puts it in gear and heads out of the driveway.

"Awright', enough you two, I wanna' get down the shore for once without a friggin' headache."

"Yeah", Ronnie says, "Jimmy hit the tunes will ya'? Cousin Brucie might be playing something good for a change."

"The Cuz' always plays good stuff," Sal says, "Hey Brad, how come I can never ride shotgun anyways?"

Jimmy whips his head left in amazement.

"What the hell did you-."

Ronnie intercedes, grabbing Jimmy's arm.

"Sal, this is the most logical arrangement. My legs are short and thin so I'm always behind Jimmy. Your legs are short and f-, uh thick, so you're always behind Brad. Get it?"

"Oh yeah, that's true, thanks Ron. You always explain stuff so's I can unnastand' it."

Brad leans over to Jimmy.

"You're the one he looks up to. You gonna' tell him sometime he's got the brains of a chipmunk?"

"Hell no I love Sally," Jimmy whispers, "and I don't insult our woodland creatures."

"You just shoot 'em, right?"

"What else?"

The Bonnie weaves its way through the neighborhood streets heading towards the Garden State Parkway. Ragtop down, Beach Boys 'Good Vibrations' blasting on the Philco car radio.

Chapter Two

THE SLEEPER

They hit the strip around one thirty PM, doing the last couple of miles 'strip slow' so as not to miss the least bit of scenery. Girls are everywhere, Jersey Shore USA, and the Jersey Four are the undisputed Kings of this little piece of America.

Girls wave hi as they cruise by, with fifteen cars lined up behind them, some of them beeping their horns, wondering what the hold up is.

Brad absently waves the traffic on by while staring at the girls.

"OHH look at these neck-breakers you guys," Sally says.

Jimmy leans out the window shaking hands with the girls and grabbing ass whenever he can.

"I hear that Babe, look at the chests on these girls. I just saw that Collangello chick, what's her name, the one I banged last summer. I didn't even friggin' recognize her."

Ronnie and Brad are in complete disbelief staring themselves.

"I guess the tit fairy must have been busy as hell this winter, spring too." Ronnie says.

They all share a laugh as Brad pulls the Bonnie into the driveway. The legendary 'Sleeper', 422 Ocean Ave., Lavallette, NJ.

A house sleeper is basically the same as a car; shitty as hell on the outside, but total performance and quality on the inside. Sal's father owned the place, it looked like every other cottage on the shore; screened in front porch, huge backyard, four bedrooms, big living room, one bathroom, two outdoor showers, and a big, back deck right off the kitchen. But this place was owned by the Bustoliones, it had the best swag furniture you ever saw. Sal's father put up his 'associates' here in the off-season, but his son and his three friends owned it all summer.

Brad and Jimmy climb out of the car as Sal tosses Jimmy the keys to the front door.

"OK boys and girls let's get this summer started." Brad says as he un-hitches Sal's trailer. "Our last summer down the shore? Not a friggin' chance baby!"

Brad realizes he screwed up when the three of them stared at him.

Jimmy joined the marines in the spring and was to report right after labor day weekend.

"Sorry Jimmy, I didn't, uh' ..."

"Forget it Bradshaw, and the rest of you guys too. I know what I'm doin'. Just don't let it screw up our summer, understood?"

Brad and Sal nod their heads but Ronnie was still upset about Jimmy joining the marines without even talking to his friends about it.

They hit the sleeper and perform their usual rituals; Jimmy tears the plastic off the furniture that Mrs. B. always put on. Ronnie hits the stereo, Brad checks the fridge to bring out some food, and Sal calls the little kids over to empty out his trailer and the car. Sal paid them a couple bucks a piece to bring their stuff into the sleeper. Sal always had a wad of cash on him, even at the beach.

Brad spreads out the bread, cold cuts, cheese, and chips on the counter that separates the kitchen from the dining room. All the guys come running. They throw their sandwiches together, grab their drinks, and spread out around the living room in their usual formation; Jimmy and Ronnie on the recliners, Sal and Brad on the sofa.

"When the hell you gonna' make an honest woman out of my Maria, Bradshaw?" Jimmy says' sitting down on his recliner.

"As soon as her brother Sal, one of my best friends in the world, gives me his blessing."

"Oh, you have my blessing, believe me, I can't take no more of her asking me about you; 'Sal does Brad talk to you about me,' 'Sal does Brad really like me or is he just using me,' 'Sal, Sal, Sal,' get her offa' my friggin' back will ya?"

"Hey, I love your sister to death, I'm just, waitin' for the right time is all."

"You're scared as hell and you know it." Ronnie says.

"I'm not scared asshole, I'm just, makin' sure this is the right thing for both of us, that's all."

"Well you sure as hell better be good to her that's all I'm gonna' say," Jimmy takes a superhuman bite out of his sandwich, "you do wrong by my angel and I'll kill you to death."

Ronnie and Brad look at each other, trying to figure out the 'kill you to death' warning as Sal pays off the kids bringing in their clothes.

Jimmy and Maria were real close, but just 'friends' close. He looked at her like another baby sister and she looked at him like another big brother. Maria idolized Jimmy, but then, most girls did.

"Be back around here tomorrow mornin' youze' kids, to bring our stuff over to the beach, around nine, and don't be late." Sally yells to his 'Sea Slaves'.

The Jersey Four were legends down the shore. They had muscle, brains, connections, and the nicest car in North Jersey; Jimmy, Ronnie, Sal, and Brad. They threw the biggest bashes, had the best spot on the beach, attracted the best looking girls, and made summers down the shore really worth it. When you went to a J4 party they did it right; great music, free drinks, free food, no fights (thanks to Jimmy), and plenty of room to crash for the night.

"We're outta' high school, finally." Sally says, tipping his shot of brandy towards Ronnie. "Never coulda' done this without you kid, love you buddy, I mean that."

"Sal, it was my pleasure. When I saw your parents clapping when you got your diploma, I was as happy as them. You're a lot smarter than you think, you just have to tap into that."

"Hey, I gotta' thank you too tough guy." Jimmy says. "You got me through too. Some of that algebra shit, if it wasn't for you Twitch, never woulda' happened."

"Well, James, that's your thanks? What's with the 'Twitch' thing, aren't we over that yet?"

"What the hell's your friggin' problem? I never saved your ass from gettin' kicked a hundred goddamn times?"

"We're out of high school now Jimmy, I don't need your bodyguard services any more and you don't need me to get you through algebra and history."

Sal intercedes to try to break up the impending argument.

"OHH, what's up with you two? You're the best friends in the world. Why you startin' this shit as soon as we get here? Brad, help me out over here."

"You guys aren't gonna' start this arguing crap now are ya'? What's the problem?"

"So now you're goin' off to 'Princetown', or wherever the hell it is and you'll forget all about us, right?" Jimmy pushes. "What the hell are you even doin' hangin' around us now, smart guy, you don't need us. Why not take off with your rich Jewish friends and leave us dumb-asses here down the shore?"

"You know something Jimmy, you're so friggin' pig-headed you wouldn't even listen to my retort to that outrageous question regarding my loyalty to my friends."

Jimmy tries to keep a straight face for as long as possible then breaks up laughing.

Brad and Sal, eyes darting back and forth between them waiting for the worst, let out a huge sigh.

"You little bastard, I thought I had ya' there for a minute." Jumping up, leaning down and grabbing Ronnie around the neck, "I love this friggin' guy ya' know that world, I LOVE THIS GUY!"

"Well, I got that going for me, which, could be helpful in certain situations ... like prison." Ronnie squeaks out, from under Jimmy's massive forearms.

They all spread out, laughing, and grab a few more beers from the ice box. Sal gets another shot of brandy from the bottle he brought and sits back down.

"Remember Mrs. White? No wait, Mrs. Wide?" Sally says laughing.

(Continues...)

Excerpted from The Jersey Fourby Brad Renshaw Copyright © 2009 by Brad Renshaw. Excerpted by permission.
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