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- Story Listed as: True Life For Adults
- Theme: Love stories / Romance
- Subject: Love / Romance / Dating
- Published: 08/07/2012
AND SHE WAS THERE
Born 1950, M, from Baltimore, Maryland, United StatesAND SHE WAS THERE
I noticed her re-shelving books in the school library during study period.
She focused on a stack of hardbacks
oblivious to the rapt attention, she stirred up in me.
Like flowers in a vase her shapely legs fit perfectly into her miniskirt.
Her elegant lines and statuesque beauty
brightened the muskiest collections
and freshened the moldiest volumes.
I wanted very much to introduce myself
to this lovely girl who never noticed me.
But for sure I was hesitant and for her sake, held back
for she was black and in 1966 Virginia interracial couples
were still being imprisoned for violating the miscegenation laws.
So who was I to impose my desires and stigmatize the life
of this unsuspecting innocent person.
However my ardor overwhelmed and smothered my caution.
She was a year behind me and consequently we shared no classes.
I confided my obsession with a white girl I could trust
who took a science course with this ebony beauty.
I swore her to secrecy and as a personal favor,
she obtained her phone number and
divulged her name...Lena.
Practically every night...for two weeks...behind the closed door of my bedroom...
when the rest of my family was watching TV and therefore avoiding the phone…
I'd screwed up enough courage to dial her number but then in a panic...hang up before it even rang.
The following night I'd get a little braver and let it ring till someone answered
and then...click...I'd disconnect.
In those days of rotary phones and party lines there was no way
for the receiver to ascertain from where a call originated.
Finally after ten days of anonymous harassment...I felt my oats...vanquished my dread...and convinced myself that there was no harm in talking. I dialed and she answered...now what?...uh..no longer denying the urge...I nervously spoke. And surprisingly she stayed on the line and we conversed,
Even though I dared not disclose my identity. She even said it would be okay to call her back again. Our conversations covered the mundane, discussing subjects we liked and teachers we admired.
But the dialogue wasn't fair...I knew her but for all she knew I was a phantom...so during our third phone conversation I suggested a way that I could discreetly reveal who I was. I told her that I would lightly bump her shoulder on the second morning break when she'd be exchanging books at her locker...in the jostling hurrying crowds of students no one would notice a subtle encounter. Like the shameless stalker I was...I knew her every move.
So that next day I was a nervous wreck...a crazy mix of apprehension and thrill. I brushed against her as I passed her stooping to reach into her locker...I walked a few steps forward before turning around...and she looked at me and seemed to smile and then we quickly proceeded in opposite directions to our respective class rooms.
My heart beat like a drum when I phoned her that same night and she told me I looked nice. Oh how I wanted to be with her...but how...without dragging her down in the quagmire of a small town scandal.
What venue would do?
Then a light bulb flashed!
The varsity football team was undefeated and most of the students mobbed the Friday night games. I was never much for that school spirit bullshit rooting tooting pied piper hysterical herd mentality bullhorn conformity. But when Lena said she went to every game with her girlfriends, I knew the stadium would mark our rendezvous. She told me her group sat fifteen rows up in the southeast section. I promised her I would come to that game and sit fifteen rows below in easy view for her. And if she felt comfortable and could get away from her companions...we could finally be together.
At last the night of our clandestine first date arrived and I was too cheap to buy a ticket...so I hung around the admission gate till I hooked up with a nice teacher who let me in on her free pass.
I shoved through boisterous foolish acting throngs and when I popped out of the crowd and reached the first row beneath the black designated section, I looked up and made sure I caught her eye...she slightly nodded and smiled. I then squeezed onto a bleacher and pretended to follow the contest, I could not be bothered by the score or who was beating who. All I cared about was getting the damn game over with...the anticipation was killing me. Finally it was finished and I stood up and turned to see her watching me...the plan was for her to follow me.
I strode out deliberately alone in a stream of fans...avoiding people...hoping she came up with a plausible excuse to break away from her friends and to bravely tail my lead. I made it to the gate and out as the crowds thinned. I purposely parked my dad's beetle deep into a lightless cul-de-sac
with nothing but trees as witnesses.
I crossed a moonlit field gazing straight ahead...I took out my keys...I reached the car in silence...were they her graceful footsteps?...why was I shaking...I didn't want to be shaking...she was braver than me...I turned around...and she was there...and when I tried to speak...my gulping throat caught air.
by L DOUGLAS ST OURS
October 2011
AND SHE WAS THERE(L DOUGLAS ST OURS)
AND SHE WAS THERE
I noticed her re-shelving books in the school library during study period.
She focused on a stack of hardbacks
oblivious to the rapt attention, she stirred up in me.
Like flowers in a vase her shapely legs fit perfectly into her miniskirt.
Her elegant lines and statuesque beauty
brightened the muskiest collections
and freshened the moldiest volumes.
I wanted very much to introduce myself
to this lovely girl who never noticed me.
But for sure I was hesitant and for her sake, held back
for she was black and in 1966 Virginia interracial couples
were still being imprisoned for violating the miscegenation laws.
So who was I to impose my desires and stigmatize the life
of this unsuspecting innocent person.
However my ardor overwhelmed and smothered my caution.
She was a year behind me and consequently we shared no classes.
I confided my obsession with a white girl I could trust
who took a science course with this ebony beauty.
I swore her to secrecy and as a personal favor,
she obtained her phone number and
divulged her name...Lena.
Practically every night...for two weeks...behind the closed door of my bedroom...
when the rest of my family was watching TV and therefore avoiding the phone…
I'd screwed up enough courage to dial her number but then in a panic...hang up before it even rang.
The following night I'd get a little braver and let it ring till someone answered
and then...click...I'd disconnect.
In those days of rotary phones and party lines there was no way
for the receiver to ascertain from where a call originated.
Finally after ten days of anonymous harassment...I felt my oats...vanquished my dread...and convinced myself that there was no harm in talking. I dialed and she answered...now what?...uh..no longer denying the urge...I nervously spoke. And surprisingly she stayed on the line and we conversed,
Even though I dared not disclose my identity. She even said it would be okay to call her back again. Our conversations covered the mundane, discussing subjects we liked and teachers we admired.
But the dialogue wasn't fair...I knew her but for all she knew I was a phantom...so during our third phone conversation I suggested a way that I could discreetly reveal who I was. I told her that I would lightly bump her shoulder on the second morning break when she'd be exchanging books at her locker...in the jostling hurrying crowds of students no one would notice a subtle encounter. Like the shameless stalker I was...I knew her every move.
So that next day I was a nervous wreck...a crazy mix of apprehension and thrill. I brushed against her as I passed her stooping to reach into her locker...I walked a few steps forward before turning around...and she looked at me and seemed to smile and then we quickly proceeded in opposite directions to our respective class rooms.
My heart beat like a drum when I phoned her that same night and she told me I looked nice. Oh how I wanted to be with her...but how...without dragging her down in the quagmire of a small town scandal.
What venue would do?
Then a light bulb flashed!
The varsity football team was undefeated and most of the students mobbed the Friday night games. I was never much for that school spirit bullshit rooting tooting pied piper hysterical herd mentality bullhorn conformity. But when Lena said she went to every game with her girlfriends, I knew the stadium would mark our rendezvous. She told me her group sat fifteen rows up in the southeast section. I promised her I would come to that game and sit fifteen rows below in easy view for her. And if she felt comfortable and could get away from her companions...we could finally be together.
At last the night of our clandestine first date arrived and I was too cheap to buy a ticket...so I hung around the admission gate till I hooked up with a nice teacher who let me in on her free pass.
I shoved through boisterous foolish acting throngs and when I popped out of the crowd and reached the first row beneath the black designated section, I looked up and made sure I caught her eye...she slightly nodded and smiled. I then squeezed onto a bleacher and pretended to follow the contest, I could not be bothered by the score or who was beating who. All I cared about was getting the damn game over with...the anticipation was killing me. Finally it was finished and I stood up and turned to see her watching me...the plan was for her to follow me.
I strode out deliberately alone in a stream of fans...avoiding people...hoping she came up with a plausible excuse to break away from her friends and to bravely tail my lead. I made it to the gate and out as the crowds thinned. I purposely parked my dad's beetle deep into a lightless cul-de-sac
with nothing but trees as witnesses.
I crossed a moonlit field gazing straight ahead...I took out my keys...I reached the car in silence...were they her graceful footsteps?...why was I shaking...I didn't want to be shaking...she was braver than me...I turned around...and she was there...and when I tried to speak...my gulping throat caught air.
by L DOUGLAS ST OURS
October 2011
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