The surrounding scenery suddenly looked rather busy as she drove through the city, --down by the Rathaus, Old City Hall, and the old regal fountain, with its spurting water; I admired it so often when I'd walk down and through this area with my buddies, matter-of fact, there is the guesthouse I usually have a few beers at when I go solo, or with a few friends on weekends walking around and getting drunk. If Chris thought, she was going to impress me with her daughter, she was wrong, yet remarked to me, "I know, I'm going the wrong way, the Caf is back there. I got to pick up some money at the bank before it closes."? She quickly parked the car, jumped out and ran up the steps through the bank's front doors. She was always in a hurry I thought, high energy like me. As I sat there looking out the window waiting, pondering, it seemed to me she was surely in some kind romantic stage in her life; it puzzled me some, perhaps it's just one of those female phases I concluded. She had a career, a child, -- was I her prince charming, a private in the US Army, no way, yet I was something, for she selected me, but what for, or why, only she knew; she never treated me less for being a private, I'll put it that way. She wanted the best of the best out of life it seemed, and only had a little time to get it, and maybe she had it, yet perfection seemed to be part of the goal, and maybe this was her fairy tale ending" ?me. She could do better I thought, if she had time, and maybe I would do better, for I do have time. But it was our time, now, and it was great...but becoming a little entangled nonetheless. This prince charming did not have the silver or gold crown to go along with the show. But that was ok, the other guy did. His money, my charm, if anything, we made a good threesome, whoever the dick head was she seemed to make the right choices, yet life was still not fair with her, as with child rearing, and boyfriend issues. She seemed to rationalize away difficulties: --ignoring the emotions of others often. She was not like other young women I knew, matter-of-fact, she didn't seem young to me at all, she just looked young and attractive; not beautiful, but good-looking, eye-catching: not gorgeous, but smart; on the other hand she was a working woman, like my mother, she had to work at making both ends meet for a long time I supposed. She was the superwoman everyone wanted to be, but couldn't; she was succumbing to its side effects also, the loss of weight, which she really could not afford. But maybe all this life she was trying to fill her self up with, and being filled up with" ?kept her alive a little longer. This might have been noticeable to her friends for they tried to explain to me one evening that stress coupled with her illness was trying on her system, as if I had some control over her ways. Although oddly enough they thought I did. She was trying to live fifty-years in five. Most people would cushion those years; Chris didn't, not with me anyway, maybe with boyfriend number two she lived to the contrary. Her romantic fairytale was not perfect, but she must have realized there was no perfect people out there, yet, perhaps she got thinking an imperfect prince was better than a toad, for she could be guarded at times with me, making me feel like a toad... and sometimes this prince could make her laugh and laugh and laugh... helping her forget all the painstaking things in life. I did feel a wedge between us sometimes, jealousy that really wasn't jealousy, more hurt I suppose, control that she wanted...double standards because she was Chris, and I was I. I think she forgot men get hurt, they just do not like showing it, rather, they'd like to show anger, and throw the hurt away. But the sex was good, and I didn't need it all the time like a lot of GI's felt they had to have it. Sometimes I felt they were putting on an act to brag, kind of, out of necessity. If you say you don't need sex to the guys in the Army, then the men around you think something is wrong with you, and that isn't good in the Army, so we all pretended, or at least I did. But Chris was warm, and affectionate, at times demonstrative, and at times a ting cold, she did not lack in any department. The nature of her woman-ness was activated quite easily when we had foreplay, as if her hormones were on automatic: set in motion within minutes. Somehow her brain signaled the right parts of her body at the right time and made my bloodstream become hot, -- as if she was in an adolescence state almost, overcoming some lost-hidden desire. Whatever it was I liked it, and she threw pretense to the wind. Most guys don't know a damn thing about girls, or women, except how to hop between their legs, get a hard-on, stick it in, 'climax' then say: '...was it great baby?' With their chest popped out. And the woman goes along with it. I had a woman once who wanted to fuck so bad, that when I took her into the bedroom, she was saying hurry up, hurry up, and I was trying to hurry up, and in all the hurry up bullshit, I couldn't get, or keep the little hard-on I started to get, then the hard-on advanced a little noodle like hard-on, and she said, 'well, are you going to fuck me or what?' I think I was just a score for her, like Billy the Kid, a notch on her pistol, you know a trophy, and finally I got the hard-on she was waiting for, at last, so I quickly pushed it into her big hole, and she said again, 'hurry up, hurry up,' and you know most women say, go slower. And so I climaxed, she jumped off the bed, put her panties on, her dress or whatever she was wearing, I think it was a dress, and said I got to go with Jack on his motorcycle. That was back in my old neighborhood, in St. Paul, Minnesota, on Cayuga Street. The cops used to call it: Donkeyland. Perhaps that was sometime in 1967 or so. Life is just not fare, I'm not complaining I just don't know much about women in general, and I doubt any of my friends do either" ?male friends that is, even when they think they got them figured out. Guys think they know, but they don't really. One thing I did know, Chris was so unpredictable she could be draining. If I had learned one thing in life it was you can't control another person, not really; and when you try to do it, you never come out the winner anyway, who wants a puppet. I suppose I kept Chris guessing with puppet, a prince, toad or me; I come up with a motto to live by: whatever floats the boat" ?it's as simple as that. I guess I learned somewhere along the way, how to deal with the hurt, and throw away some of the anger, it isn't worth the time and effort, like revenge, no one wins, and you simply bury one another. The best revenge is success. I was in some deep thinking mode, and then all of a sudden I heard a pounding on the window. It's Chris. "Open the door, yaw sleeping?"? "No, I don't think so, I guess I was daydreaming, something like that,"? she gave me a peculiar look, "Let's go."? I seemed to wakeup some, slowly, I was really in a deep fog, I looked at Chris, she smiled back, with a curious look, hoping to find out what I was dreaming about I think, but she left well enough alone. It was a quivering moment for me, taken by surprise with all my wavering thoughts. "Here we are,"? Chris announced, as if I couldn't see, her eight year old daughter was standing by her friend Holly outside the brick, two stories caf waiting with a camera. "Mama,"? she called to Chris, "Now tell Chick your name,"? she asked her daughter "Camren"? she replied, with a smile. I took the camera and snapped a picture of the three. Then Holly briefly kissed me on the side of the check. She had a beehive for a hairdo (with dark brown hair), about several years older than Chris, a little shorter, and with a little more weight, but far from being over weight, plain looking for the most part. Camren had short hair, a blue sweater on, and long white tights under her short blue dress, a pretty brown leather pare of shoes, and a round face like Chris', with spicy looking eyes, as cute as could be, "SNApppppp... , "? the picture was taken, and she started to sing, "Chick...listen-- I made up a song... I call it, The Yellow-Flower"?: 'I'll love you today ... today and tomorrow I'll love you today-- my flower And if you---- happen to see ... that I can't be" ? all the things I ought to... Please still love me...and be eee-- my flower' ... "Let's go,"? said Chris, as Camren stood looking at me... "Did you like it...Chick?"? "Like it, it was greeeeeeeeattt,' like Tony the Tiger says."? "Who is Tony...?"? asked Carmon. "Oh, he is just a cartoon character, someone I grew up with when I was about your age, my mother bought me this rubber blow-up toy, something like that, about four-foot tall, and his name was Tony the Tiger."? "Oh, maybe I saw him [?]"? replied Carmon. "Camren! ... Jump into the back seat, let Chick up front."? Said Chris. "Hay, I like your uniform...it's groovy,"? said Camren. "Shan't be long now, Mama,"? questioned Camren. "She's learning English, how is she doing with it Chick?"? "Great, she sounds better than you."? Chris did a double take on me when I said that. "Very funny,"? she said, than she started to laugh, as did Camren also... "We will get there, and I was told Chick there will be no bowling leagues until later this evening so we can get right onto a lane."? The car pulled up next to a host of buildings and we all walked down a stairway into the bowling alley. Once inside, next to the bowling lanes was a bar with candy and treats sitting on its edge. As we started bowling, I bought Camren a candy bar, Chris quickly told her not to eat it until after dinner, saying it would spoil her appetite. "You really should not have given the candy bar to Camren, -- Chick! She's looking at it now."? "Sorry, I guess I wasn't thinking about spoiling her appetite, but I suppose you're right ..."? I didn't say another word, she wasn't smiling; the game was over now. She looked at me strange, "You suppose what? Let me explain, she is my child, and I give the rules to her."? As Chris turned around to look at Camren, she noticed she was eating the candy bar, and then she quickly walked up to her, pulled the candy bar out of her hands, slapped her in the face, and as she went for a second slap, I grabbed her hand. "Not in front of me... you don't slap her;"? everything went silent for a moment around us, and then you could hear the sound of feet passing briskly by us on the wooden floor, people staring at Chris. She looked about, "Let's go,"? she said. As we got into the side hallway, she explained again, in a harsh way, "She is my daughter, and I will discipline her where and when I want to."? "Just do not slap her in front of me" ?like that!"? I repeated. Chris caught her breath, and calmed down, she then looked at Camren, smiling at her saying, "I think he likes you Camren, let's go."? No one had ever dared to do that to her I expect, she was taken by surprise, matter-of-fact it was a little abruptly done I thought, maybe I should have been a little more gentle about it. "Cigarette?"? she said. "Are you asking for one, or offering one,"? I responded. "No, take one of mine and light me up one, PPPleasessss!"? Her pack was hanging out of her purse sitting along side her leg. I lit it and handed it to her. She spoke in the manner of one who makes unreasonable statements I thought: -- suddenly we both became a bit uncomfortable; Camren became tongue-tied. And then we all seemed to be looking out our own little windows. |
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