Triangle Trees

This is the second in a series of short stories about living in a small town in the late 60s early 70s from the view of a fifth grader. I hope you like it as well. Any comments and criticism is welcomed, except from RDA he can only pop off when I write something about politics.

I remember clearly to this day the first time I ever saw her. It was late spring; summer was near the scent of lilacs filled the air, windows and doors were open to cool the classroom and the next time we would step into our little country school we all would be in the fifth grade. Mrs. Barth, the fourth grade teacher and the ruler of all that was ceramic demanded our attention to the front of the class. She had some exciting news to share. “Class I would like to introduce to you your new classmate, Kandi Gardner, Mrs. Barth motioned her hand toward the classroom door and slowly stepping into the room was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. I don’t know if it was the beam of sun that shown through the open window, or if it was the onslaught of hormones not yet experienced, but her long hair was the most golden blonde I had ever seen, her eyes were a effervescent shade of blue and her smile wrinkled her nose as it exposed her pure white teeth. I swear I heard bongo drums in my head, my heart jumped into my throat as if I’d been trying daredevil-like stunts on the schoolyard seesaw. And I’m not positive but I think I felt a strange tingle below.

It was rare when a new student came to our school since our community lay at the end of the world. The number of reasons you would end up in our small logging community was limited. Your folks were either on the run, you were a descendant of the original settlers, or you were lost. At that moment I never thought of the reason this angel was before us but I thanked god she was.

Mrs. Barth brought Kandi to the front of the class and asked her to say a little about herself. I don’t remember what she said because I was hypnotized by her soft full lips that gracefully danced with her pure white teeth as she spoke. She instantly felt at ease in front of the rest of us. The ability to feel at ease so quickly would serve her well as we went through high school years later.

Mrs. Barth then asked all of, us to stand and introduce ourselves starting with the front row. Since I had a tendency to attract Mrs. Barth’s attention due to my inability to sit still and be quiet I was seated near the back of the room next to Mrs. Barth’s desk. Some might imply that my seat was the dunce seat; I’d argue that the seat was reserved for the second in charge.

As the introductions worked their way through the rows and got closer to me, I silently pondered how I was going to make an impression on this fourth grade goddess. I knew without doubt that I was not the most impressive of the male students. Not the best athlete, not the best looking, not from the wealthiest family and definitely not the smartest. I knew I had to come up with something; I had to make my mark. When the opportunity got to me I stood up, chest out and in my best “Roger Ramjet” impersonation I told Kandi, Mrs. Barth and the rest of my class that I had once killed a cougar with my pocket knife and withdrew my pocket knife from the front pocket of my jeans. The class began their usual roar of laughter that had become common after one of my comments. Mrs. Barth rolled her eyes and said something like, “Sure you did”. Then Mrs. Barth thanked the class and shot a glare my way along with a little shake of the head to show her disgust with me again. Kandi though, I swear I saw a gleam in her eye as she passed by me; accompanied with a smile that was meant just for me.

Luck was on my side that day. Mrs. Barth set Kandi in a vacant seat that was right in front of me. This allowed me to secretly stare at her the rest of that day. And stare I did. By the end of the day I had memorized everything about her hair, her left profile, her smile and her lack of fear for being in a new place. She was amazing, especially for a girl.

The next day was field day at our school. Field day was the day that every boy looked forward to each year. This day there would be field events like the softball throw, the fifty-yard dash, the standing long jump, and the sack race and 440 yard race. The top five places in each event would be awarded a specific colored ribbon. Blue for first, red for second, pink for third and so on. At the end of the day the girl and the boy who had the most blue ribbons would be further awarded the much-coveted annual field day trophy. Then at the conclusion of the field day there was a huge potluck picnic.

My goal was to win that trophy for that year. If I could do that I was confident that Kandi would have a difficult time of not wanting to go out with me. Though I had never in my life, up to this point, ever had a girlfriend. I was sure this was what the girls were looking for in a boy, a trophy winner. Needless to say I only received one ribbon that day and it was a third place “pink” ribbon for the sack race. But luck was on my side Kandi didn’t attend the field day, either her family didn’t know about it or she had forgotten. I tossed the “pink” ribbon away on my way home that day. I had to rid myself of the evidence.

That whole summer I saw Kandi only once and that was from a car as my family drove past her family along the river west of town. We were on our way to swim at the “hang up” hole, the most popular place to swim in our community and a home away from home during the summer months for many of us. Kandi’s family was leaving another swimming hole that was far less popular and usually used by “flatlanders”. I had no problem over looking the fact that her family swam at a spot that was most likely to solicit a smirk when mentioned to a local, since she was wearing a swimsuit that more than revealed her beautiful smile. I believe the love of my life was blossoming. As crazy as it may seem I started praying for the beginning of the fifth grade right at that moment.

The end of summer finally arrived, thank god. The first day of school Mr. Shenk, known as Hitler, set us in assigned seats. And much to my chagrin I was seated as far away from the class beauty as Mr. Shenk could have possibly set me. Was this guy conspiring with the ceramic ruler, was he dead set against me ever getting the opportunity of letting Kandi know I was alive?

Then one day something happened Kandi came to school with a new sweater, a new tight powder blue sweater that in a funny way increased the level of competition for Kandi’s attention. From that day every boy in the class began walking and talking like Roger Ramjet in her presence.

I knew I had to be bold now. I had to focus on what was important and bravely approach the matter at hand. I had to tell Kandi that I think I was in love with her. That’s right I thought it, as David Cassidy crooned it. “I Think I Love You.”

Within days of the sweater and months since I had first seen her, I approached Kandi. Well actually I had Phil my best friend, give her a note. The note told her that I wasn’t completely truthful about the cougar, that my dad had shot it and that I wanted her to be my girlfriend. If being a girlfriend was too much for her than I’d like to be her best friend that was a boy. Much to my surprise she gladly accepted my offer of love. Now I could at least look her straight in the eye when she spoke and wave at her now and then. Hopefully I would get a chance to hold her hand and if the stars lined up just right, I might get to kiss her. This newfound status also allowed me to act even cooler. For crying out loud I now had a girlfriend.

After weeks of courting from afar and notes being passed back and forth the two of us found ourselves alone at Triangle Trees. Triangle Trees was a formation of trees behind the high school football field. Triangle Trees was a place known by the local boys as a place to play guns, to play hide and seek and a place to take a girl. I had planned the opportunity for the two of us to be playing in that area that day. I had rehearsed my lines I knew what had to be done. I knew I needed to kiss those lips. The lips that I had thought about, I had dreamt about, the lips that consumed most of my summer between the fourth and fifth grade.

Here we were standing alone in the infamous clump of Douglas firs, the both of us looking at the ground conveying small talk, back and forth, both denying the inevitable. I stepped closer to her; she looked up into my eyes silently, trying to tell me she could have the same feelings as I was having.

“Do you think it would be okay if I, um, kissed you?” I asked her.

“I don’t see why not,” was her response.

I moved in closer put my hands on each of her shoulders and asked, “Are we suppose to close our eyes or something?”

She told me that she thought that was how was done.

We both closed our eyes and brought our lips together. She was soft her breath was warm; our lips met every bit of each other’s, my arms went around her, she relaxed into me. The kiss seemed to go on for minutes. The both of us were feeling light headed. When we parted I knew I had to do the right thing. I knew I couldn’t very well lead a girl along and not be the gentleman. I looked her in the eyes and calmly asked her if she thought we had to get married now? She smiled and said she didn’t think so. We emerged from Triangle Trees holding hands. We were two young lovers who had taken the plunge. We had expressed our love for each other with the ultimate covenant. We had kissed, a kiss that was both our firsts.

That evening I lay in bed thinking of what a man I was becoming. I thought about what laid ahead for the two of us. I thought of marriage, kids, a job, a home and a life of kissing her.

The next day at school I was scared to death to see her. I avoided every chance to cross her path. I knew someone was going to find out. It would be revealed that I had kissed a girl. My life was over, as I had known it.

Then Kandi’s best friend Cassandra approached me at recess. I could tell by how she looking at me she knew. This was going to be trouble. Cassandra skipped up to me, smiled and handed me a note. I tore open the note. It was from Kandi. I thought, oh, no I think she told her parents. I read the note with fear climbing all over within me. How am I going to explain this to my mom and dad? Crap all mighty, I’m dead.

I read the note, “Pirate you are a nice boy. We can be friends. I don’t like you anymore I like Russell now.” Good I thought I knew he hadn’t killed a cougar either.