The day started with a morning, sweltering hot, but after a rainy summer afternoon, the evening cooled, and a wind rose off the sea to dry the streets making it ideal for strolling. Helen Fairchild consented to take her stroll with me that evening, and a lucky man is “me”, because she is the pearl of the neighborhood, and I was proud to be seen with a genuine beauty queen. Helen Fairchild was Miss Citrus Festival back in the day, not so long ago, out in her Riverside home.
She had no movie star vision when she moved to Hollywood, just out to get a job. Maybe a secretary at a studio. That was her ambition, something solid, and not so glamorous. A good job and a good man. Kids and a home. If she harbored other notions she kept them locked away, like most of us do.
Miss Fairchild was in a rare mood that night, alright, her voice so lyrical, so light, her laugh so full of life. Like she was in a spotlight and you were in her movie, but she wasn’t acting. Nothing phony about her. Genuine. Her star was in her heart, and her glow shone from eyes as blue as the summer sky. To be close and witness the depth of those azure orbs, the sweetness of her breath, the soft musk of her femininity, the swell of her breasts, my senses immediately overwhelmed, I stood dizzy on the spot, unable to lift a foot from pavement, so glued to the spot was I, and then she smiled with lips full, and teeth perfect and white, I staggered back, my feet now scrambling to catch the balance I desperately needed as I stumbled and found myself lying flat on my … before her.
“Oh!” she gasped with momentary concern at my clumsiness, but she laughed with relief at my blushing red faced embarrassment. “Are you quite alright Mr. G. ?”
Although I had managed to stand and gain my balance and footing alright, I had not gained full control of my sense of decorum and I blurted out, “I am simply bedazzled by your beauty. So struck by your presence, I am. I…”
She blushed, now, and held her delicate hand to those perfect lips, attempting to stifle a girlish giggle, so lyrical, it strummed the strings of my heart. Then she touched my arm with concern on her face, and my world started spinning. “Are you alright Mr G? You look so pale. Would you like to sit for a awhile?”
That struck me as a good idea. Without releasing her grasp on my arm, she slid her free arm across the small of my back and guided me in the direction of a nearby bench. I was in her embrace, her body now brushing ever so slightly against me, a sense of hips glancing, a brush of breast and a whiff of soft auburn hair, her leading, while I stumbled like an idiot dancing, finally to flop on said bench, so hard on the derriere, I uttered “Ouch”. And to my surprise she did not just leave me there, but settled next to me, not releasing, still holding tight hoping, I suppose, to keep me upright.
“Are you alright, Mr G?” she asked with some urgency now, and I realized I had not responded to her initial query, and for all she knew I may be in cardiac arrest.
“Yes…yes…no, I am…I am alright. It was just this night. I had looked forward to it, so…I was…my head got a little light. I apologize.”
“Could you drink some water?” she leaned in even closer, looking deep into my eyes, as if still not sure I would survive. I knew I had to get control of the situation right then and there, but regretted being released from her intimate proximity and caring grasp. The quiet between us shattered at a moment’s cowardice.
“The night must go on.” I mustered false bravado, and thus broke the spell. She drew back and replied, “Well, if you’re sure you are up it…” she rose and held out her hand. I gladly accepted it, and stood, as tall and assured as I could stand. “There. See? Sound and steady.” She smiled, and having already crossed the awkward bridge of initial physical contact, she casually slid her arm in mine, and said “Fine! Where are we going on such a lovely evening?”
“I’m afraid, I have been a bit clumsy so far…”
“Enough of that, now. You were over come by the warm weather…”
“I was overcome, that part is certain, but it was your beauty that overcame me.”
“Mr. G you are making me blush! Oh! And you too, I see!”
The light had grown magic, balanced symmetrically between day and night, and the breeze hushed in appreciation, when a wicked little whirlwind decided then to flick up her dress, so I could see the long leggy thigh above her knee. She had noticed, but she let it be.
“Too breezy for you, Miss Fairchild?”
“Not at all. And I am Helen to my friends”
“…and I am Paul.”
“Then, Paul, I guess that would make us friends!”
“To the very end!”
“Well! You do move right along, don’t you?”
“Pardon?”
“You and I? Friends to the very end?”
“It’s just a catchy phrase, is all. Were it only true…”
“We shall see what we shall see.”
“We shall?”
“ Yes, we shall, and so may you.”
So we walked as the light dimmed, the winding park path overlooking the Pacific, when finally she said, “We may have been a clumsy start…the two of us…but I am having fun with you.”
“Really? I…”
“Yes, really.” And she moved in closer, and squeezed my arm.
This wasn’t my life I was living, this was her movie and I was privileged to share her scene no matter how long or short it might be. I was just an extra called up on stage.
This long tall doll was obviously much too hot for me. Still, she was a Mountain I’d be willing to die climbing.
