There were fireworks that Fourth of July, bright lights in
the night sky of her eyes. She was seventeen to my twenty one, but what’s three
months between friends? There wasn’t much about her that wasn’t attractive
really, but when she pressed her lips into mine it was the ring through her
septum that had my attention; tiny, golden, perfect. She tasted like kine bud,
and smelled like summer sweat making love to ripe mangoes. We had met the day
before, but I couldn’t shake the feeling I’d known her for years. I don’t know,
maybe it was the way she bit me - right where neck meets collar bone - that
jogged the memory.
I was still feral at twelve. We used to meet up near this
big rock that sat up above the parking lot of a Jehovah’s Witness Kingdom Hall.
The top had a rimmed basin, semi circular bench carved out of stone for us by
Mother Nature. We knew everyone those days, so I was kind of surprised to see
someone I didn’t recognize sitting there when I arrived. No matter how hard I
try I can never quite remember his face. What I actually remember most is the
thick rich smell from his cigar. One of those really fat ones, smoked down to
nearly a stub. The hood on his black sweatshirt was pulled up over his head,
and he was sitting as though he had been waiting for me. He nodded greetings and
launched into his story.
One of those perfect summer nights when your drunk is deep
and clean, great pot, better company, and the location…He described that town
the way musicians talk about their favorite guitar. Picture postcard perfect
small town up on the north shore; the way he described it, from the way the
docks swayed lazy on the bay to the smell of waffles cones and ice cream floating
on the breeze, reminded me of the town my Grandmother lives in.“Sounds like Manchester by the Sea” I blurted out. He smiled like as if at an inside joke. “Yeah, man,
you know the place huh?”
He had been introduced to the kid sister of his cousin’s
best friend. She was up from Florida for the week. They had hit it off and this did not sit well with her big
brother. Understandable, but compounded further by the fact that she was four
very formative years younger than my new friend. His cousin attempted to keep a
peace, but when the bottle of tequila came out they all learned one of life’s
little truths: It’s virtually impossible to stay mad at a man who keeps you in
free drinks. Stubbing out his cigar he said, “You know, my cousin asked me to
steer clear of her. He was just trying to avoid hurt feelings and broken noses,
but if I had listened, I’d have lost out on one of my favorite memories. Remember
that kid.”
That was pretty much that. He headed off down the same path
I had come up. No doubt it had been a great story but I forgot about the whole
incident soon enough; until my twenty first summer anyway. When it all came
back I couldn’t help but laugh. “Did I tickle you?” she asked. “No, it’s just
that I suddenly remembered why you’re so familiar.” She looked at me, eyes
full of questions. I gave her kisses instead of explanations and she seemed ok
with that.
Those four days went down just like the story I’d been told
nine years earlier. Her brother copped an attitude until we buried hatchets
over a bottle of Cuervo. My cousin begged me to lay off just this once, and
fortunately I didn’t listen. I drove her to the airport for her flight home to Florida.
Saying our good byes she hugged me so tightly that I can still feel her brown
arms around my waist. I knew then he had been right, those four days would be
one of my all time favorite memories.
Memories are weird things though and I will cop to the fact
that I’m still not entirely sure I didn’t just dream that cigar smoking
motherfucker who had made sure with a brilliant narrative that I wouldn’t rob
either one of us of some of the best nights of our life. I don’t take chances
though, so lets just say I’m not a smoker but I carry a cigar; and in those
times and spaces where time and space are not so certain I make sure to drop in
on my past and keep the light on for my future selves.
Oh…and if you’re interested in just how exactly I do that,
keep your eyes on this space.
![: Stanley Kubrick Special Edition Box Set [1968]](http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/01njCG7OSJL.jpg)
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