Story Six

Trish's Writing Story Six

I met Steve, whose older brother had nicknamed him "Stevie Wonder" in the summer. Steve gave me a nickname too, "Shorty". A group of us were hanging around together. He was a couple of years younger than his brother, who had dark curly hair and a big smile, and was popular with everyone. Steve had blue eyes and brown wavy hair, and a more rugged look. He was a bit shy and I found that quite attractive compared to the rest of the group.

We went to the fair at a nearby town, and Steve and I went on the ferris wheel and some other rides. We also went to a pool hall a couple of times, and I learned how to play.

Steve's parents were very religious, and of the Dutch Reformed faith. The brothers bitterly referred to them as the 'gestapo'.

Toward the end of the summer, my parent's were away for a few days, and I invited Steve to come over. We had soup for supper and then I offered to sew a button on his shirt. We talked about religion, and compared our upbringing in religious households.

He told me how he often resented his older, good looking brother, and I told Steve that he was handsome. I said, "You look like a Maori, or a lion."

We talked about a dream we'd both had, of a large old house. I showed him some poems I'd written, and he pointed out that his last name was mentioned in one of them,

Colors
Colors of the rainbow, a sky of blue and gold
Memories of love words, dreams were born of old,
Meadows in the morning, green and lush as spring,
Youth in all its beauty, the suns that laughter brings.
Colors of the rainbow reflected in your face
Fragile wings on fairy backs, lots of virgin lace.
Meadows in the noontime, all turned brown with heat,
Rustling with the breezes through a patch of yellow wheat.
Colors of the rainbow start slipping through my head,
Staring at the starlight, wanting suns instead.
Mysteries in the twilight that shine and dim for you,
Life with all its wonders, a sky of gold and blue.

I had written this about a year before.

Later, one thing led to another and he spent the night.

In the morning, his parents came to the door, looking for him. They were shocked that he'd spent the night with me, and away from home. When they told me he was just 15 I was shocked. He'd lied to me about his age.

They went to wait in the car for him, and I told him he must go.

"I'm too old for you Steve, I said.

"But you said you loved me," he said.

I told him, "It would be different if we were in our forties and we were a couple of years apart in age, but right now it just won't work."

"It's a big world Steve, and there's a lot more out there than what you've seen in this little part of the world."

"I'll come back," he said.

"You'd better," I told him, "or I'll come back and haunt you!"

He left, and I saw him only once after that, in a store in town. We exchanged a "Hello" and walked away.

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