Remember Eddie Jakeworth.
And the hot spot. How did we get there? We must have paddled across the lake and met
him at the store. That’s why you let me
tag along. You needed me to paddle in
the front, as one way or the other, you’d be heading into the wind.
Remember the hot spot.
That perfectly secluded circle of dunes up the inlet to the lake. You could only get there in a canoe. Hot,
hidden, and secret, it was easy to get sunburned there. Eddie had a, Marlon
Brando in On the Waterfront, kind of good looks, at least to me, a hooked nose
and a compact boxer’s build. He was a townie with a rough charm and a hint of
danger. For you, I think he was a stand-in for your big crush on Chris
McClean, the Scarsdale boy from the summer
camp. A handsome Holden Caulfield with a cool irony, loafers without socks and all the rest.
I am certain you were the main attraction. I was just along to paddle the canoe. I can’t
remember if Eddie had cigarettes, but I bet he did and in my mind.s eye, they are rolled up in the sleeve of his t-shirt, just like in the
movies. So I hung around; to swim, look for crayfish, get sunburned, smoking
one of Eddie’s cigarettes, a fifth wheel. Trying hard not to be a pest. And then,
out of the blue, Eddie kissed me…me. I
was dazzled. I guess he figured he was
man enough for the two of us or I was ready to be kissed. Who knows.
I was past words, swooning. And he kissed me again. And there in my head it felt like a thunderclap. You were unimpressed, I think
you hardly noticed.
I doubt we ever talked about that day at the hot spot. To
you it wasn't particularly important and not something you would talk to your
little sister about. Too me it was
something so brand new, I didn't even know how to describe it to myself. And so
I never said a word about it.
So here I am fifty years later, watering the roof garden,
muttering my question to you, hey sis, do you remember? The sun is not quite up
and I am talking to the same stars we watched
drifting on the lake in the canoe, in August; counting shooting stars.
No one else remembers that day. No one knows the whole story. You, me, and Eddie Jakeworth were the only
ones there in that hot spot, that day.
Lala and Professor Laurita are not here. No one here knows them. They are up there cruising
the stars looking for you. I would like
to hear your voice now, telling me how you remember that day. Memory
or imagination, I will never know. But the pictures are still vivid to me, alive in my head.
I’m guessing for you, it would be different. Maybe you wouldn't remember it at all. I wonder if you could still feel that hot sand and those kisses that tasted of cigarettes. I can. But
I am the only one here 50 years later, watering my garden, tears in my eyes, talking to the
stars. Looking for you.
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