Summer Of '76

Chapter One: The Fruits Of Our Labor

Bohemian Rhapsody- Queen

Monday, May 26th 1976, Abernay New York, 2:17 p.m.

The year is 1976. It's the election year between Carter and Ford, the Steelers won the Superbowl, and everyone is still afraid of communism. None of that really matters to fifteen going on to sixteen, high school student Tangerine Sato. The only thing the young girl is worried about is how in the hell she is going to spend her summer before she starts her junior year in the fall. Everyone knows junior year is the worst year. ACT's and SAT's. Tests and college applications. All of it far too stressful for the laid back and cheery teen. School has been out for exactly one week in the small town of Abernay, and three young girls just can't decide what to do with their first paycheck of summer.

In the small town of Abernay, New York sits an old western wear store named The Homestead. With its weathered brick walls and far too big front window, the small store has become somewhat of a staple to the two-thousand something residents. Considering it's been there since the twenties it better have been. Currently the store has three very committed workers. Liz Baker, Marty Nott, and Tangerine Sato. Three best friends ready to take on whatever the summer has with what very little money lines the pockets of their cotton skirts, corduroy slacks, and wrangler jeans.

"C'mooooonnn," whined Marty, "When in the hell is he gonna be here with our money?"

Marty, A slim yet taller girl with a brunette bob, stood leaned against the checkout counter quite dramatically as she sighed for what her friends swore was the hundredth time that afternoon.

"Calm down Marty, he'll be here soon enough. Just stop that damn whining."

The other girl, Liz, Stood behind the register. Her almond shaped pink pedigree nails played with her long blonde locks as she snapped at her friend.

"Can't you both just enjoy the silence while it lasts?"

Tangerine, the tallest of the three, was sitting between them on the glass countertop. Her long legs swung back and forth as her two friends continued to bicker on either side of her. The ginger girl eventually began to tune them out as she kept her eyes trained on the huge windows at the front. She began to gnaw at her bottom lip as she started to daydream about what she was going to spend that check on. A new pair of boots maybe? Or perhaps a few pairs of wranglers? Maybe she could get a record or two? Her train of thought quickly crashed and burned as the bell on the door chimed.

At the noise the all three of the anxious teens snapped their heads towards the door and a unison shout rang out between them, "Mr. Goodman!"

Mr. Goodman was a well aged man in his early fifties. He was on the taller side with graying black hair and a well trimmed beard. He was the owner of The Homestead as the place had been in his family for a few generations. He was a great boss the girls had to admit. A little forgetful, but a good boss no less. His eyes were kind as he threw his gaze up to the three girls. He raised his right hand and held between his fingers three blank checks. Almost immediately, all three were off the counter on on their feet rushing towards Mr. Goodman.

"Hey, hey, hey," he held the blanks behind his back, "you get these after you clock out got it?"

After his stern, yet playful words, all three of his faithful employees groaned and slumped back to the counter to finish their shift.  It wasn't even two-thirty yet and all three of them would be on the clock until eight. With another huff and a gentle nudge from their boss, the girls finally left the checkout counter and shuffled their way to the far left side of the store to begin organizing the dozens of pairs of cowboy boots.