Palpitations of the heart...
A beautiful 17-year-old girl cascading into womanhood much like the reddish brown locks of hair that had fallen ever so gracefully on the black and white button up shirt of her boyfriend, George. Doris seemed safe as they rest their eyes in his '44 Mercury.
She sighed, and seemed to wake from her simulated slumber quicker than he did. She kissed him again. Then she slowly pulled his arm from her shoulder. She took his hand, and his heart dropped when she drew away from his breast. Why did she draw away from him? If something is wrong, why was she still holding his hand?
"I want to go home," she said, as she looked at him in a way that he couldn't possibly comprehend.
He held her hand tighter, and was dazed by her bold statement. She leaned further towards the cracked window and looked at the bank of river where they had parked that night. Then suddenly he said, as if the simple solution stated itself to him:
"We'll get married Doris."
She sat in a silence that only the ripples of the quiet moving river could break.
"We'll go to Myrtle Beach right now, do you want to?"
She pushed away his hand and laid her hands on the brawny muscles of his upper arms. His hair still short, still short from his last military-mandated haircut. It made an almost unheard raking sound as he ran his fingers through his hair, almost in frustration. But as the inner monologue that she had running in her head, got to her, she clung to him passionately, again in a way that he could not understand. But he left it all now, to marriage. The solution would be to just get married. He did love her, and he wanted her. He wanted to be married to her, he wanted to have her to himself, as his own forever. And now he waited for the response that she had already decided upon in her own mind. But there was a time between her response that made an unnamely amount of tension, a pure irritation.
How could they tell her parents that she was pregnant? Being pregnant out of wedlock in 1947 was not something that was to be tolerated.
"George, where will you stay? You don't have any money," said Doris' mother in frustration.
The young man went pale, as he hated to hear these words. He had gone back to Doris' house the next morning, but he didn't need her to tell him that he was poor. George always had been poor. Being tossed around from house to house, as if no one had a place for him in such a big world. But he swallowed what little pride remained, and shown through the moment like the few shiny coins he had in his pocket. His spirit was bright and inalterable. His love for Doris was almost as strong as his will.
"Wherever we can, ma'am," he says with a hopefully reassuring smile.
There was along pause.
"You can stay here son. I know you love her and you have always treated us with respect. You were man enough to come to us. You come work here after you get done on the base to help fill in for what money ya'll need," Doris' father strongly stated from the kitchen table of his small farm house.
He had remained quiet throughout the exchange, since that was his way.
George again went pale, as if his spirit again, had to be contained. Tears filled his eyes as he realized that he could not provide all that he needed for Doris, himself, and their unborn child. He knew that the money that the Army paid him for being a painter was not going to be enough. He had served oversees until he got hurt. He had taken a job on Camp Lejeune to make a living and to continue getting the small amount of benefits that being in the military can provide.
"She's only a child, Eddie ," said Doris' mother as her voice cracked and as tears streamed down her face. "And only a boy of 21. You're neither one old enough to do as you like yet."
George raised his head as a lone tear made its way down the tanned skin of his freshly shaven face.
"What does it matter how old she is, and how old that I am?" he said as he fought back tears. "What's the difference between me now and when I'm thirty. I'll still love her. I still want to marry her. I want her to be with me forever."
Eddie made his way to the couch and took his wife's hand.
"The boy is right mother," he said with a grin. "They love each other."
George and Doris took each other by the hand and stood up. The two of them sensetive to the antagonizing pain that her mother was going through. They felt sorry but they knew what they must do. The blindness of their love for each other broke the hysterical hurt of the situation.
As they sat and talked for some time, they all finally realized that they must leave.
"Daddy," Doris cried from the doorway, and she ran to him sobbing as if her heart were breaking from an immense palpitation of love mixed with fear. She took ahold of him. She held him close. His body was so big and comfortable and she still felt safe with the calloused hands of her father on her back but she knew what she had to do. She knew that she was about to be a woman. About to join in matrimony with the man that she knew would love her for all of her days.
The couple made it to Myrtle Beach and got married. They went through sadness, like when the son that caused them to join in marriage was stillborn. They went through happiness, like when they bore three other children. They grew older in years and their children had children. So here I am. I will tell you that my grandparents never had a lot of money but none of us have ever went without. The happiness, fear and love that made their marriage has carried us all through our years. The two of them are still loving one another, even though time tries to whittle them down, their love will continue to be strong, no matter what comes into their path.
She sighed, and seemed to wake from her simulated slumber quicker than he did. She kissed him again. Then she slowly pulled his arm from her shoulder. She took his hand, and his heart dropped when she drew away from his breast. Why did she draw away from him? If something is wrong, why was she still holding his hand?
"I want to go home," she said, as she looked at him in a way that he couldn't possibly comprehend.
He held her hand tighter, and was dazed by her bold statement. She leaned further towards the cracked window and looked at the bank of river where they had parked that night. Then suddenly he said, as if the simple solution stated itself to him:
"We'll get married Doris."
She sat in a silence that only the ripples of the quiet moving river could break.
"We'll go to Myrtle Beach right now, do you want to?"
She pushed away his hand and laid her hands on the brawny muscles of his upper arms. His hair still short, still short from his last military-mandated haircut. It made an almost unheard raking sound as he ran his fingers through his hair, almost in frustration. But as the inner monologue that she had running in her head, got to her, she clung to him passionately, again in a way that he could not understand. But he left it all now, to marriage. The solution would be to just get married. He did love her, and he wanted her. He wanted to be married to her, he wanted to have her to himself, as his own forever. And now he waited for the response that she had already decided upon in her own mind. But there was a time between her response that made an unnamely amount of tension, a pure irritation.
How could they tell her parents that she was pregnant? Being pregnant out of wedlock in 1947 was not something that was to be tolerated.
"George, where will you stay? You don't have any money," said Doris' mother in frustration.
The young man went pale, as he hated to hear these words. He had gone back to Doris' house the next morning, but he didn't need her to tell him that he was poor. George always had been poor. Being tossed around from house to house, as if no one had a place for him in such a big world. But he swallowed what little pride remained, and shown through the moment like the few shiny coins he had in his pocket. His spirit was bright and inalterable. His love for Doris was almost as strong as his will.
"Wherever we can, ma'am," he says with a hopefully reassuring smile.
There was along pause.
"You can stay here son. I know you love her and you have always treated us with respect. You were man enough to come to us. You come work here after you get done on the base to help fill in for what money ya'll need," Doris' father strongly stated from the kitchen table of his small farm house.
He had remained quiet throughout the exchange, since that was his way.
George again went pale, as if his spirit again, had to be contained. Tears filled his eyes as he realized that he could not provide all that he needed for Doris, himself, and their unborn child. He knew that the money that the Army paid him for being a painter was not going to be enough. He had served oversees until he got hurt. He had taken a job on Camp Lejeune to make a living and to continue getting the small amount of benefits that being in the military can provide.
"She's only a child, Eddie ," said Doris' mother as her voice cracked and as tears streamed down her face. "And only a boy of 21. You're neither one old enough to do as you like yet."
George raised his head as a lone tear made its way down the tanned skin of his freshly shaven face.
"What does it matter how old she is, and how old that I am?" he said as he fought back tears. "What's the difference between me now and when I'm thirty. I'll still love her. I still want to marry her. I want her to be with me forever."
Eddie made his way to the couch and took his wife's hand.
"The boy is right mother," he said with a grin. "They love each other."
George and Doris took each other by the hand and stood up. The two of them sensetive to the antagonizing pain that her mother was going through. They felt sorry but they knew what they must do. The blindness of their love for each other broke the hysterical hurt of the situation.
As they sat and talked for some time, they all finally realized that they must leave.
"Daddy," Doris cried from the doorway, and she ran to him sobbing as if her heart were breaking from an immense palpitation of love mixed with fear. She took ahold of him. She held him close. His body was so big and comfortable and she still felt safe with the calloused hands of her father on her back but she knew what she had to do. She knew that she was about to be a woman. About to join in matrimony with the man that she knew would love her for all of her days.
The couple made it to Myrtle Beach and got married. They went through sadness, like when the son that caused them to join in marriage was stillborn. They went through happiness, like when they bore three other children. They grew older in years and their children had children. So here I am. I will tell you that my grandparents never had a lot of money but none of us have ever went without. The happiness, fear and love that made their marriage has carried us all through our years. The two of them are still loving one another, even though time tries to whittle them down, their love will continue to be strong, no matter what comes into their path.
2 comments:
Damn, I cried!
this is an amazing story! I loved it...and I really appreciate your comment on my essay.
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