I had driven over to report to Mike Kelly, the man in charge
of the project for the city. He was pleased but anxious to get started. I
promised pass the word along, and left. There were two streets leading to I-30.
I chose North Hervey because of its sheer beauty. Near Downtown, huge oak trees
bordered the street, their branches meeting and forming a leafy tunnel that shaded motorists and pedestrians alike. It a magical stretch of street, similar to other
spots in other cities.
Before long, these breathtaking spots would fall victim to
the highway department’s chain saws, another case of urban beauty and repose
sacrificed to the automobile, the emerging god of urban planning.
I wasn’t thinking about this at the time. I could only see
the vision of the Redhead, who might, or might not, be looking forward to
seeing me again. I eased the Porsche onto I-30 and headed North.
It was only about 100 miles back to Little Rock, but the devil
of anticipation had stretched the distance to at least twice that. Somehow or
other, though, I managed the ordeal. There was little traffic on the freeway, so
I had ample opportunity to reflect.
So far, I deduced, I had managed to spend time with Brenda
and not cause a ruckus. It would have been tempting to revert into my Navy persona
and make a fatal move, but civilian life had taken hold and made me respectable. Now, like
Ulysses returning from Troy, I was sailing home to my Penelope, bearing gifts and a
heart full of hope. Would she be waiting? Even my Green Angel seemed anxious to learn the answer. I
found her doing almost 90, and we had to have an understanding.
There was no way to contact my bosses and make a report short
of stopping to find a pay phone, and I wasn’t about to do that. Also, traffic
would be building in the downtown area, so my best shot was simply to go home
and call in from there. How’s that for rationalizing?
As I pulled into the parking lot, my heart soared. There
stood the Redhead, talking to my next-door neighbor. Saints preserve us. She
was wearing a yellow shirt and blue jeans that had been trimmed at the thighs. Her short but shapely legs soared from them, her feet just kissing the ground. Her
long hair flowed down her back and glistened in the late afternoon sun. She had
a rectangular box clasped under one arm and appeared absorbed in animated conversation.
I thought she saw me drive in, but I couldn’t be sure.
Before I could make a determination, she spun in the opposite direction and climbed
the stairs to the second-floor apartments, faster than I had ever seen
her move. Her hair bounced on her back, waving as she spun onto the balcony,
and she disappeared into her apartment.
My neighbor was still standing by here door as I waddled up
carrying my suitcase and gift bag. She was wearing a half-shirt gathered under her breasts and white shorts.
The zipper was fastened, but the button above it remained unfastened so that an
additional triangle of her flawless skin remained uncovered above a slim thread of elastic. She didn’t move.
“Been out of town working,” I said, though she hadn’t asked.
“Figured as much,” she said. “You just missed Brenda.”
“Oh? How is she?”
“I’ll let her tell you,” she said. “Her boyfriend got back
from basketball camp this week.”
My knees came close to giving away.
“He bought her a carton of cigarettes as a coming home gift,”
she said.
“I’ve got to go call the office,” I said. I turned to my own
apartment.
Inside, I threw my luggage on the bed, made the call, and
took the wind-chimes from their bag. I sat on the couch, holding them by their
string and letting them move just enough to make their soft lovely sound.
Disappointment aroused my inner-sailor. “Dammit to godalmighty hell,” I said to myself as I prepared another oath. Before I could, someone knocked on my door. I resisted the urge to shout “Go away.” Instead, I
walked to the door, still holding the wind-chimes. I opened it.
Brenda stood there, her oval face never having looked so
soft and beautiful. It was serious, though. Her eyes looked up into my face and
then moved left and right, before settling back. “May I come in?” she said,
noticing the wind-chimes. She had changed the shorts for a nicely pressed pair of khaki britches. They made her legs look even shapelier than had the shorts. She waited while my eyes took her in.
I didn’t speak. I couldn’t have if I had wanted to. I
motioned her in, moving aside to let her enter. The chimes rang softly,
sounding stupid I thought.
She turned around slowly, eyeing the chimes again. She put a
hand on one hip and struck a pose like a 1940s movie star.
“Where the hell have you been?” she said.
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