Iowa's Teenage Bride
12:38 PM "I could be an actress in New York City..."
"Esther."
"Or forget New York City-- on stage in London's West End and while I'm struggling to get by-- I could work for cash under the table in a pub-- tending bar-- and I could live in this tiny flat that is much too cold and I'd put the kettle on-- Oh! and listen to English radio..."
"Slow down."
"Or, or, OR! I could be a rock 'n' roll singer and wear darling dresses and tour the whole country in a station wagon and stay up almost all night and live off of black coffee and toast and stay in roadside motels! I could play dancehalls and theaters and clubs and sell 500,000 singles -- or maybe just 100,000 records-- it's too hard to tell what would be realistic..."
"Esther, please."
"Or maybe New York was right after all and I could be a model-- but then I think that I'd love to live in California-- in a bungalow that overlooks the ocean-- with all of the sun and citrus trees-- and no more cold! Oh, I'm tired of the cold-- I mean, it's sweltering now but two months from now it will be cold and I'll be sick to death of it-- I'm distressed just thinking about it..."
"Honey, please listen to me. Are you listening to me?"
The problem was that I had been listening to him-- every word that had fallen from his beautiful pale pink lips-- all summer long-- and this included the last batch of words he had spoke just before my heart started pounding inside my ear canal and my stomach got the shakes... before I hyperventilated about my future and he begged for my attention.
He rested his hand on top of mine and sunk his slim fingers between my knuckles. I looked first down at our entwined hands then back out to the lake.
He touched the tip of his thumb against the tip of my thumb.
"Yes. I'm listening."
"You should marry me."
I suppressed a small seizure. I couldn't tell whether I was thrilled or terrified but I did know that if I swallowed back the spit in my mouth-- my whole esophagus was likely to go with it.
But I had dreams... I just wasn't sure what they were, yet--
"Are you asking me, Julian?"
"In a way."
"I'm only 17."
"I'm only 23."
Twenty-three suddenly seemed impossibly old. Whereas his age had at one point been part of what made him attractive to me-- it was in this moment suffocating.
At twenty-three, he had already finished college and tasted beer and tasted girls-- loads of them, probably.
I had never even seen a man before-- let alone been with one.
Julian knew this about me and hadn't made attempts at changing the fact. Now even on the night a few weeks beforehand when we snuck down to the lake in the middle of the night and went swimming in our underwear. He kept his back turned to me as I entered and exited the water and I extended the same courtesy to him-- while in the water, he carried me around on his back with my legs wrapped around his stomach and my arms tied around his neck. I laid my cheek upon his damp dark hair and secretly reveled in the feel of his palms flat against the outside of my thighs securing me in place.
I sort of did want to see a man right then-- I wanted to see Julian-- and had he tried to be with me-- there in the water or on the shore-- I probably would have let him.
"Exactly. You're 23. You're too old for me."
"When you're 20-- I'll be 26 and it won't seem so old then."
"But I'm 17 now."
"Any you'll be 18 next month-- you're ahead in your studies and eligible for early graduation in December..."
"Then I'll be only 18."
"23 wasn't too old all summer."
"Julian..."
"Esther, are you in love with me?"
"Yes."
"Look at me."
I continued to stare at the water. It kissed the earth, kissed the earth, kissed the earth... I wanted to kiss Julian. I loved kissing Julian. I kissed him every chance that I got. The summer'd had a lot of kisses. Really fantastic kisses-- kisses where my face was held within his hands and tilted up towards his-- where his mouth played against mine and the ends of his hair tickled my temples.
I craved such kisses as he wanted me to look at him-- and still I couldn't bring myself to look shift my eyes in his direction.
I pulled my hand from beneath his and lifted my hair off of my neck, fixing it into a ponytail. It was hot, humid and awful out-- August and truly miserable. I was stripped down to my peach dress slip and black ballet flats; my church dress hung from a nearby tree branch. Julian and I were pretty well hidden from sight and I had removed the dress to keep from overheating to death. I didn't mind if Julian saw me in the slip-- in fact I had wanted him to and besides that it was pretty modest-- but, I was beginning to regret my decision as marriage came into the conversation. I had never envisioned getting a marriage proposal in my underwear.
But, no-- this wasn't a proposal. It was just discussion. A talk.
"I don't want to be a teenage bride. I don't want an Iowa life. I don't want to have a farm and a restaurant or to be a school teacher or a secretary. I don't want a baby by the age of 19... I want to dance! I want to try cigarettes and to be young and to make mistakes! I want to live! I don't want to be bored!"
He placed his fingertips at my chin and turned my face towards his-- I looked up into his bright blue eyes. My body went warm from the inside.
"Dance and be young and make mistakes with me," He spoke softly. I felt my lips jut slightly forward. He kissed the hair just above my ear, " But no cigarettes."
"You can't say no. I'm almost 18. I can do as I please."
He took the small ball chain necklace with the tiny brass sacred charm from around his neck and draped it over my own.
"You should marry me."
I held the charm in my hand then rested my head against his shoulder.
"You need to ask my father."
2 comments
Please no cigarettes! PLEASE!
ReplyDeleteThis is great work, As always- So Touching, So Real. SO GREAT!
this particular piece inspired me to try writing something. it's a great task to make things so vivid and detailed without letting that aspect drag your writing down. free flowing and vibrant. love this.
ReplyDelete