course her killer smile. It had been two
years since the last time there was any communication between us.
For the first month after leaving
the ranch, I talked to her every day. Sometimes for hours, other times only for
a few minutes. When I returned to the states we tried to get together, but
something always happened. She was going to visit me for Thanksgiving when a
winter storm cancelled her flight. The second time we tried I was driving down
interstate forty when my engine blew just outside of Flagstaff, Arizona, from
lack of oil. On a side note, I am now religious about changing my oil every
three thousand miles. The third time we tried I was going to fly out to see her
when, the night before, my grandmother died of a heart attack. After that we
couldn’t agree on a date that would work for both of us. To make matters worse
I got tired of whack jobs in the shower and started seeing other girls. I’m not
very proud of that fact. As time went by we talked less and less. Before I knew
it the only communication we had was an occasional birthday or Christmas card.
Eventually those stopped as well. I still thought about her. If I focused hard
enough I could still remember her face, her voice, and how she smelt of
Jasmine. Her touch got harder and harder to remember. As the days went by the
only thing that didn’t fade was my love for her. She was never far away from my
thoughts. I still dreamt about her all the time. There had been many times I
wanted to find her and reconnect. Then my mind would think she could find me if
she wanted to. I thought maybe she was happy with someone else and I was better
off leaving the past in the past. In the end I decided it would be best for
both of us if we continued on our separate paths. I was wondering where she was
and who she was with when I pulled up to the curb at Steve’s house. I prayed
she was happy.
There were several people I
recognized from high school. Many of those in attendance were either
ex-military or still serving. Steve had quite the Fourth of July party going.
The tables were covered in red, white, or blue cloth sprinkled with silver confetti
in the shape of stars. There was also a mini American flag on every table in a
centerpiece of red, white, and blue carnations. The buffet table was draped
with a banner resembling the American flag. All the utensils and serving pieces
were either red, white, or blue. The tents where covered in lights and stars
hung from the tents support poles. I was positive Steve had nothing to do with
the decorations. It was more likely his younger sister Jennifer had decorated. Steve
probably didn’t have a creative bone in his body. He was a Marine through and
through. He looked like a six-foot-tall bulldog. His muscles made his T-shirt
appear fused to his skin. He sported a bald head and several tattoos; one was a
Dr. Seuss quote on his wrist, Being crazy isn’t enough. He is certainly
a threatening figure. Most people are scared shitless upon meeting Steve. Truth
be told, he is very loyal and by far one of the most generous people I know. He
will give the shirt off his back to help a person in need.
Steve went all out on the food—steamed
crawdads, corn on the cob, corn fritters, barbecued chicken, hamburgers, hot
dogs, potato salad, chips, brownies, and plenty of beer. I was talking to Steve
about his military experience when Jen walked over and gave me a bear hug.
“Hey Squirt, how’s it going?” I
asked.
She had changed quite a bit since
the last time I saw her. For one thing, she no longer had braces or glasses.
Her hair was more of a platinum blonde than the dirty blonde I remembered. I
noticed she had filled out in all the right places.
“I’m doing just fine. I’ll be a freshman
at San Jose State University.”
“What are you majoring in?” I asked.
“I think I want to be a teacher.” She
was talking more to her older brother than to me.
I took a sip of my beer prior to
inquiring, “Oh yeah? Ankle
years since the last time there was any communication between us.
For the first month after leaving
the ranch, I talked to her every day. Sometimes for hours, other times only for
a few minutes. When I returned to the states we tried to get together, but
something always happened. She was going to visit me for Thanksgiving when a
winter storm cancelled her flight. The second time we tried I was driving down
interstate forty when my engine blew just outside of Flagstaff, Arizona, from
lack of oil. On a side note, I am now religious about changing my oil every
three thousand miles. The third time we tried I was going to fly out to see her
when, the night before, my grandmother died of a heart attack. After that we
couldn’t agree on a date that would work for both of us. To make matters worse
I got tired of whack jobs in the shower and started seeing other girls. I’m not
very proud of that fact. As time went by we talked less and less. Before I knew
it the only communication we had was an occasional birthday or Christmas card.
Eventually those stopped as well. I still thought about her. If I focused hard
enough I could still remember her face, her voice, and how she smelt of
Jasmine. Her touch got harder and harder to remember. As the days went by the
only thing that didn’t fade was my love for her. She was never far away from my
thoughts. I still dreamt about her all the time. There had been many times I
wanted to find her and reconnect. Then my mind would think she could find me if
she wanted to. I thought maybe she was happy with someone else and I was better
off leaving the past in the past. In the end I decided it would be best for
both of us if we continued on our separate paths. I was wondering where she was
and who she was with when I pulled up to the curb at Steve’s house. I prayed
she was happy.
There were several people I
recognized from high school. Many of those in attendance were either
ex-military or still serving. Steve had quite the Fourth of July party going.
The tables were covered in red, white, or blue cloth sprinkled with silver confetti
in the shape of stars. There was also a mini American flag on every table in a
centerpiece of red, white, and blue carnations. The buffet table was draped
with a banner resembling the American flag. All the utensils and serving pieces
were either red, white, or blue. The tents where covered in lights and stars
hung from the tents support poles. I was positive Steve had nothing to do with
the decorations. It was more likely his younger sister Jennifer had decorated. Steve
probably didn’t have a creative bone in his body. He was a Marine through and
through. He looked like a six-foot-tall bulldog. His muscles made his T-shirt
appear fused to his skin. He sported a bald head and several tattoos; one was a
Dr. Seuss quote on his wrist, Being crazy isn’t enough. He is certainly
a threatening figure. Most people are scared shitless upon meeting Steve. Truth
be told, he is very loyal and by far one of the most generous people I know. He
will give the shirt off his back to help a person in need.
Steve went all out on the food—steamed
crawdads, corn on the cob, corn fritters, barbecued chicken, hamburgers, hot
dogs, potato salad, chips, brownies, and plenty of beer. I was talking to Steve
about his military experience when Jen walked over and gave me a bear hug.
“Hey Squirt, how’s it going?” I
asked.
She had changed quite a bit since
the last time I saw her. For one thing, she no longer had braces or glasses.
Her hair was more of a platinum blonde than the dirty blonde I remembered. I
noticed she had filled out in all the right places.
“I’m doing just fine. I’ll be a freshman
at San Jose State University.”
“What are you majoring in?” I asked.
“I think I want to be a teacher.” She
was talking more to her older brother than to me.
I took a sip of my beer prior to
inquiring, “Oh yeah? Ankle
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