"Such mesmerizing eyes on you," one would say, or "What a raven heart breaker she is," to Pa before turning to me, "You must have to beat the boys off with a stick!"
At this I never fail to blush. Blood rushing to my cheeks and to my eyes turns the whole of my complexion a scarlet shade of ivory which only seems to suit the older men all the more.
"Ah! A blushing beauty!" he'd say, fully amused with himself, "and growing up so quickly too." If I so happened to meet one of these, Mr. Greene perhaps, or Mr. Kelly, on an unescorted trip into town such an observation was followed by a swelling silence and the man would stand looking at me expectantly as if giving the matter a few moments longer I may suddenly grow into a respectable match for himself. The moment would stretch until it became awkward and vaguely inappropriate given that both of these potential suitors were already purported to be happily married with families.
"Well give my best to your Pa," he'd add with a cough and turn quite suddenly from me with a enough purpose to hide shame.
The exchanges themselves along with their frequency bewildered me. How could it be that so many men over 30 years old could find me so irresistible, while so many men under 30 failed to notice my very existence?
"They'll notice you soon enough," Pa would answer any time I asked him. But only to myself would I dare to admit that I was in no need of affection from the masses that Pa called "they." I secretly longed after the attention of only one man. And truth be told, I had a great deal of it. But not in a manner that I found to be in any way gratifying.
Philip had been my very dearest friend from so young an age that I don't recall ever meeting him. It was as if I was born knowing and loving him. We'd learned to read together at the school house, and books remained our one true and common passion. As springs broke across the plain we would find each other every year at the creek and embark on the wildest adventures of discovery, tracking brightly colored birds with the softest saddest songs, or suspicious looking prairie dogs on the hunt for a spring time feast.
But mostly we laid in the sun and talked. We discussed a great many thoughts on our present and on our futures. With Philip it was always so easy to dream out loud and to make such grand plans for the lives we would live as adults.
Philip had a great uncle who lived in Paris, and he relayed glorious stories of the tulips that would sprout in the spring rain, and of the engineering of the Eiffel Tower and the wonderful art at the Lourve and fresh baked bread and cheese. I told him that when I closed my eyes I could see us there eating the finest foods and drinking the coffee and the wine and walking under the Arc de Triomphe.
I believed I loved him even at that early age. Then, in late October when we were both nearly thirteen years old, Philip came to out house near dusk. He'd come in from the fields where he'd been harvesting all day and found a treasure.
"I simply had to come here immediately and share this with you! I hope I'm not interrupting your supper, but I knew you'd want to see this as soon as possible." We had not yet finished cooking our supper and Mama excused me for long enough to join Philip on the porch. From his shirt pocket he pulled two thin flat pieces of cardboard with writing on one side and photographs on the other. He showed them both to me before handing me one.
"This is for you to keep." he said, his excitement dripping from his smile. He was sort of shaking and pacing while he waited for me to look at the card. "It's a postcard!" He said and slapped a hand over his mouth admonishing himself for not giving me the time to take in the value of what I held. I looked at the side with the photograph first. I beheld a large steel structure, not a building exactly, but more like a triangle whose sides were caving in. It was photographed at night, and the structure was covered in thousands of tiny electric lights. I had heard of these lights but I had never before seen them in person or in a photograph. It looked like the sagging triangle was wrapped up in a heavenly blanket of thousands of twinkling stars.
"What, what is this?" I asked Philip. I was as befuddled as he was enthused.
"It's Paris!" He exclaimed. "That's the Eiffel Tower!" I had imagined a concrete column reaching up through the clouds and even the thought of that had been overwhelming to me. "This is magnificent." I barely whispered. I could feel Philip's excitement infecting me now, and my heart started to race. At once I felt more fulfilled and more hollow than I ever had before. It was as if I was standing in Paris at the foot of the great tower, but also as if I would never get off of this porch in Kansas.
"I wrote to my great uncle," Philip started to explain, no longer able to contain himself. "I told him of our dreams to come to Paris and to meet him and see all of its wonders. And he sent these two postcards, one for me and one for you. Isn't it spectacular? Read the back. He wrote it to you personally."
The blood rushed to my face as I could not conceive of my great fortune.
"Sweet Lucine, I have heard of your dreams to come live in Paris. May this small token stay with you until you are grown when can come and have the city all to yourself. Please do not be angry with me for taking dear Philip from you, but know that he will return to you soon enough, and that when you are both grown you will be always welcome in my home. Sincerely Great Uncle John"
I immediately looked to Philip who was now still and watching me with a cheshire grin.
"That's the best part," he started. "He's sent for me. I'm to go live with him for a year, and study and learn all there is to know about France. Isn't it wonderful?"
My breath caught in my throat and I couldn't speak. "Oh, Cine, I wish you could come too. I will miss you terribly. But I will know so much that when we go back someday, you will have your very own Parisian guide!"
I knew then with absolute certainty that I was in love with him, and that he was going away. And all I could do was smile and congratulate him.
"They'll notice soon enough," Pa was saying about the young men in town, "And if ever a single one of them even dreams of taking a liberty with you, my girl, he'll have to answer to me for it," he chuckled.
"But, Pa, Mr. Kelly and Mr. Greene are always paying me fine compliments. Do you not require an answer from them?"
"Never you mind them," he said with a wink, "many a good man knows a line when he sees it and even the wisest of men may be tempted to try a sturdy line from time to time. It don't mean he'll cross it." He laughed like a man with a secret and put an arm around my shoulders, "My girl, it isn't the older men I worry about for you. Those who are honest enough to compliment you to your face are honest enough to leave it there. Its the fellas that pretend not to see you that scare me a bit." He trailed off there and looked at me thoughtfully. I must have looked awfully confused, and I saw concern eclipse his face. "Have you really no idea of your charm? Of how the men of this town speak of you?"
"No, Pa. They don't often speak to me directly."
"Ah, of course they wouldn't." He shook his head at the ground as if bringing himself around to some realization. "Well let me ask you this, do you think your mother was pretty?"
"Stunning" I answered, "she was easily the fairest lady in our town, and possessed the most grace."
"True," he confirmed, "but was she not also the strongest women you ever saw?"
"Oh yes, Pa, easily."
"And do you remember how she could get the best of you in an instant with her clever cunning?"
"Yes."
"Me as well," he added, "And didn't it sometimes smart just a bit, on the inside when she did?" I bit my lip. I hated to admit even to dear Pa, when something smart. I nodded. "I know it do. For me as well," he said, "But don't it make you want to win her over all the more for it?"
I was sure Pa had some way of knowing my thoughts and promised myself to be more careful with my expressions around him. He laughed his deep belly laugh again.
"Sweet, Lucine, I can tell you as a matter of some fact that you are very naturally your mother's daughter. Sure, you're her spitting image too, but I mean on the inside. You're her through and through and all the way around. And don't it smart doubly for me when you and your clever cunning get the better of me." I was beginning to catch his drift. "Now, I can only imagine that the young men of your knowing feel much the same way, but oh if they won't want to know you and win you over all the more for it. That's my concern, you see. Those who keep their desires hidden may be pushed too far one day, and of that you ought to be cautious, my dear. On the other hand, the lucky son of a gun that does win you over will have to be one of great character and integrity. Of that I am sure. Just like your old Pa, here."
He flashed his winning-est smile at me and I could see his point was made.
No comments:
Post a Comment