My first real girlfriend

 

In my last year at school there were times when we had freedom to study, play tennis or just use the library to write our essays. I then I found I was not the only one there but Joan, a very attractive who would also be there doing the same. So we chose that time to to chat in the library or in summer play tennis. She was very good at the game but that worried me little as I was more interested in dating her.

When school was over I often found her walking home and found she only lived a short walk from our house. Before long I was invited to meet her mother and if I stayed longer I'd meet her father too.

In summer time we also spent time walking to the town park where we'd find a secluded bench so we could kiss each other. I adored her and soon I was visiting her on weekends to and was invited to have meal with the family too.

As the school year progressed she said she needed to spend more time studying. I too was concerned as my exams were over and one of the schools governors had asked the headmaster if there was a student interested working in architecture. I was informed and took the job eagerly.

We kept in touch for many months but she too managed to get a job...but in London,so our friendship was shattered. This sudden change was the end of our romance. 

Fifty years later we met again on Facebook; both my wife and her husband had now died. I lived in Australia and she in Britain and we happily told of our lives far apart. Sadly just last year her daughter emailed me telling me she too had died.

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I misjudged her

Her star sign was Cancer
Perhaps that's a warning
Now that she has ripened
As an adult with zip

Those leather belts she wears
The way she walks and turns
Silver bangles jangling
Now who wears kirby grips?

Empty pleasures attract her
Horse racing's betting ring
Flaunting her new oufits
Girl, you give me the pip

The way she laughs out loud
Her silly wave to me
I recall who she was 
My girl in a gym slip

When I had op on my spine
Of my friends she was the first
To visit me and that's
How to measure friendship

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Fred's dead

I just heard that Fred was dead
What's more his funeral's gone
When there's much more to be said
Could have laughed 'bout what we done
So many years ago

Was the brother I never had
In long gone days yesteryear
Got boozed up with other lads
To stagger home full of beer
So many years ago

Drifted apart don't know why
I got wed, so lad's night was off
Rocked our baby lest he cry
If we met, he'd say "Hows the toff?"
So many years ago

At his graveside no words said
When I finally found the place
Funeral over, flowers dead
Would have said "Fred, you're the ace"
So many years ago

Lads love their mates but keep "shtum"
Trust them and stand by their side
We change when real life does come
But not dear Fred and now he's died
"Thanks mate for so many years ago"

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The odd couple

I give her a hug
More loving than apostle like
We have long been friends

She is a blessing
She cares for me and I her
We are both broken

It is a friendship 
Of such a value for which
There is no high price

An unwritten pact
Tell no lies no porky pies
Life is hard enough

Joined in our sadness
Our lives needs some fresh gloss paint
Busy as buzzing bees

Don't push each other
There's plenty do that already
We have just got us

So we'll just hold hands
And are much stronger that way
I give her a hug


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Grubby faced

You were my first friend
Grubby faced cute little girl
In a gritty grey little house
Same as ours next door
Smelled of boiled cabbage 
Because we were all so poor

It wasn't a broken home
Just that one that was dirty
We were all like that then
Filthy kids in squalid homes
Empty faces and empty lives
Same families everywhere

In the twilight of my youth
We moved out of that street
Went across town to Parkside
Took the streetcar far away
From my fetid birthplace
Ma vowing never to return

Now that I am all grown up
I have that itch to return
I so want to see you again
My grubby faced little friend
'Cos I really loved you
And I do miss you so much

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Her best friend

I raised the lantern                                    

To reveal her grieving face

Her eyes say it all

 

Gently I took her hand

Let her bask in memories

As I held her close

 

Now she was alone

Was it possible that we

Would still remain friends?

 

Later as she slept

I recalled all his and my

Infidelities

A close friendship

I must be careful

Not to hug you by mistake

For you would clout me

 

How many seasons

Have we two played at this game

Close but still distant

 

Winter when we met

I saw strength and confidence

We were unalike

 

In Spring you blossomed

Full of life and hope for love

Yet sad when his love went

 

You let me touch you

We talk and trust the other

In our joint sadness

 

You laughed as I flirt

With your affections in that

Autumn of my life

 

I must be careful

Not to hug you by mistake

You would still clout me

Hinewai and Horowai (No. 70)

The continuing story of Ahu and Ahuahu her husband in a Maori village in Aotearoa before European settlement of New Zealand. (Missed an episode? Click on Ahu in the labels bar for previous posts.)

Although Horowai had been to the village where the Kakas call before she had never been there alone. Not that she went there by herself but travelled up there with Hinewai after one of Hinewai’s visits to Black Sands that were becoming more frequent now that she had been forgiven for her behaviour many years ago.

She knew that Hinewai had been rescued from her first abusive husband and ran away from her second one only to be reunited with him many years later. However she had not talked to Hinewai as woman to woman. All Hatiti had told her was that Hinewai had been hurt many times in her life and only now was settling down even though she was old enough to be Horowai’s mother. But most interesting of all was that knew the pakeha or white men and had lived with them. She hoped she would find out more about them.

As the two women walked up to the forest Hinewai spoke to Horowai. “So you told your mother too much about Tangaroa and yourself?”

“Not too much, just that I couldn’t wait”

Hinewai laughed. “Do you tell each other everything?”

Horowai looked perplexed. “Nobody has secrets in our family. “

Hinewai laughed outright. “Everyone has secrets, even you.”

Horowai shook her head doubtfully. Did she have secrets? She had hopes and dreams and she wanted Tangaroa so much to part of her but they were not secrets. Suddenly her face coloured up and immediately Hinewai could see that she had thought of something.

“See, you do have a secret, don’t you? But it is OK; I have enough secrets of my own.”

“Are they all about your hurt?”

“Some are yes; some are what I have learned since I left Black Sands. Your father, sorry, I mean Ahuahu; is very wise. When he looks at me I will tell him anything as he can be trusted.”

“I think of Ahuahu as my father too,” replied Horowai. “He loves both Hatiti and Ahu very much. I wouldn’t want Tangaroa to have another wife. I would be too jealous.”

“I loved Ahuahu once; well I wanted him to touch me when I was younger, which is the same thing when you are growing up…to be admired and fondled. But I touched him first and he was very cross, I got beaten by my father Kamaka for doing it. Did not Hatiti tell you?”

Horowai shook her head, “I only know of your first marriage and…” Here Horowai paused and then went on carefully, “You lost your baby as you were hurt and your father brought you back home and you married Kaihutu instead…but then you both went away.”

“We were banished because I was not satisfied with Kaihutu so I tried out all the other boys my own age instead.” Hinewai laughed.

Horowai was silent. But then she looked shyly up at Hinewai, “What was that like?”

“Good…at the time. It made me feel strong after being made weak by my first husband. Listen, can you hear the Kakas calling? We are nearly there.”

Horowai nodded, “We will talk more won’t we?”

“Won’t Hatiti be worried that I will lead you astray?”

“Hatiti loves you; she wants you to come back to Black Sands.”

“I know she does. One day perhaps. Kaihutu feels responsible for me as he married me…but he sleeps with Moana’s mother not me. Even though I am his wife, I am number two now, which is how I like it.”

“Why is that?”

"My time with the Pakeha has upset him more than playing with the young men all those years ago. So now I have a home and I look after Haeata’s children and cook and think a lot without men pestering me."

“What do you think about the Pakeha, Hinewai? They frighten me.”

“I have seen too much. I cry for our people. I have not been a good person but I am a proud Maori and I will always fight for them.”

“How can you do that Hinewai?”

“Before we enter the village, let us sit down.” They sat in the shade of the trees and Hinewai opened her woven bag that contained her personal things. She drew out a little pistol, “Do you know what that is Horowai?”

Horowai looked at the small weapon. “Is it a gun?”

“I stole it from the Pakeha. It is called a Derringer, suitable for a woman and for them to hide in case she needs it to protect herself. There, I have shared a secret with you.”

“You are not going to use it on the pakeha are you?”

“Well I am not going to use it on our own people, am I?”

“Aren’t you risking that I will tell someone?”

“You won’t tell because you want to tell me your secret, don’t you?”

Horowai loved being able to talk to Hinewai this way and now she would now have time to talk to her personally about all manner of things before her wedding that she could not with her mother. She took hold of Hinewai’s hand and put it up to her face and said “I am glad we have time together before the wedding."

Flashback

Do you have recurring dreams, well nightmares, really? I have an awful one that haunts me constantly. The trouble is that it is true!

In my dream I am a much younger person, barely twelve. I had just started a new school and was what they might call a mediocre student. To teachers back then that meant “He could do better!” This was certainly written on my reports.

Perhaps I can tell you what continually comes back to me at night. There was a deputy sports master, a tall, strict, sarcastic man who clearly had army experience. He chose the first session he took with our class to do some competitive boxing. Sparring might have been appropriate but in his wisdom he elected pairs of boys to don the gloves and to really box. He encouraged each twosome to land punches and be aggressive.

I hated boxing. Sport in my juvenile mind was kicking a ball in soccer, hitting a ball in cricket or running around the oval getting puffed out or jumping up or along wherever the inclination took you. The sports master paired off the boys in some haphazard way and I found myself putting on gloves with my best friend Bertie.

Bertie and I did everything together at school. At weekends I often rode my bicycle out to his Dad’s farm to stay the day where we did all the usual adventurous things boys do at that age. We explored the woods and streams, got wet, tried to avoid playing with his younger brother, kicked a football on a miniature soccer field his Dad had mowed for him in a paddock with real goalposts and ate with his family at lunchtime which was real treat as his Mum seemed to cook everything, better and richer than what I had at home. It was heaven.

So there we were with gloves on facing each other. We were both nervous and apprehensive but were told to go ahead and box. So with careful indifference to this supposed sport we sparred a bit but avoided hitting each other.

This was a big mistake as the sports master then urged us on to land our blows and so we did. I clearly had a longer reach than little Bertie and managed to land few on his body and arms then one punch slipped through and landed on his face. Tears immediately sprung to his eyes and I was appalled. I had hit my best friend. The bout was soon over and I apologized profusely to him.

After that our friendship should have returned to normal, but it didn’t. From that day on we drifted apart. I no longer went to his farm, and we both found other friends. I was however left with sometime far more worrying. It was that recurring dream of that day. That blow has been magnified a hundred times over the years. In some dreams I knock him out, in others there is blood and gore and yet others I am arrested for assault.

May you be free of a flashback as awful as that of mine.

Sally Kidman's baby

Sally Kidman was a delight. She was the sort of girl that you could take home to meet the parents. Sally was a good sport, always friendly, always willing to help and she made the rest of our group look good when she was around.

She had a pleasant straight forward face that was good to look at. But it was her personality and sense of fun, which seemed to sparkle in her eyes, that everyone loved. I also liked her nice, long, curvy legs, but that was just me. Most of us had been around together since we were in High School. We had dated each other, played sport together and usually sought each others company at the weekends. As we grew up, went to college got jobs, our early friendship seemed to stick.

Sally was a kidder. She was always happy and loved to play the fool. Yet whenever anything serious happened she was always the one that seemed to know the right thing to do. There was the time that Dave smashed his up leg coming off his motorcycle. She was first to visit him in hospital, and instead of taking him flowers or chocolates took him a 'Playboy' instead. That was Sally, very considerate.

Even when we were in our twenties, she never changed much. We had a thing about going to Roger's place on Friday nights to play cards and listen to music. He had this enormous house that he rented for a song. Something to do with an 'As found lease'. If anything went wrong, Roger had to fix it. He was lucky though, apart from a few small plumbing bills, he never seemed to have many expenses. Anyway back to this Friday night. I had got engaged by this time. Rose wasn't one of the original mob but she certainly fitted in. She loved the mateship of our group. We had all had a few drinks and Roger suggested a card game with a difference. He gave all the girls an even numbered card and all the blokes an odd one. Then one of the girls had to go out of the room and call out an odd number at random. The holder of that card went to pay a call on her for thirty seconds then she came back while he picked out an even number, and so on. It was something like Spin the bottle in effect. Except that while the thirty seconds was on, everyone had to swap their cards with another player of the same sex. When this was explained, nobody demurred, but I glanced anxiously over to Rose to see how she had reacted. She just raised her eyebrows and opened her arms a with palms upwards indicating 'What the hell', so we all played.

Well everyone seemed to get a go, except Sally and me. Rose thought it was great laugh. In fact most of the group thought it was scream. Eventually Sally gets called out and in much less that the allotted time Paul Deveraux came back with a deadpan face. They had broken up a few months previous so things must have still been a bit cool.

As luck had it, she selected my number next. Out I go, and in the darkness of the Hall, I reached for her, found her face, touched it lightly and said, "I really like you Sal." She pulled my hand down placed it on her left breast and said quickly, "No time to talk. Kiss!" She enveloped me, we devoured each other. For the first time I found out how passionate she could be under her usual controlled exterior. I loved it. We were broken up by a knocking on the door. "Time's up you two." Then she reached for my cheek, touched it lightly and said, "I really like you too." Sally then returned to the Lounge Room, and announced, "This is a silly game. Let's do something else."

They all must have agreed because next thing I was called back in, and they were setting up to play 'Newmarket'. As I sat with Rose and she whispered in my ear, "Doesn't she like you?" That was Sally, very diplomatic.

By the time Rose and I had got married, Sally was going steady with Tony. Although he hadn't gone to school with us, we had both done a Business Management course together and he had been co-opted into the group. They had been living together in a house at Plympton for some months, and one Sunday afternoon coming back from seeing Rose's Mum at Kingswood, we dropped in to ask them to dinner the following week. Rose was a bit tired and said that we could probably get a cup of tea there too. We tried the front door but there was no answer, so I went round the back, only to find her on her own weeding in the garden.

She grinned up at me, glowing with exertion. She brushed a flick of hair from her face.
"Thank God you came, I was looking for an excuse to stop." We went in by the back door and I let Rose in at the front. She collapsed on the settee in the Lounge, slipped her shoes off and put her feet up. Sally shed some of her gardening gear and went in to say hello to Rose.

I went into the Kitchen and sang out that I was going to put the kettle on. As I was clattering about in the Kitchen, looking for cups and things I heard Sally go into the Bathroom to tidy up. She came out moments later with a tank top and jeans on. "You look good enough to eat." I said. She offered up a bare arm. "Bon appetit." As I pursed my lips and bent to kiss her arm, she put her other arm around me and hugged me tight. "Who's going to be a Daddy then?"

"What me?" I said stupidly. Rose, could hear us from the Lounge. "Oh Sal, you've told him have you? He wouldn't have guessed. Not until the baby popped out in front of him." We all laughed. That was Sally, intuitive.

Eventually Sally got married too. Tony was the lucky guy. We saw quite a lot of them in those days. It was the card evenings that were the most fun though. Sally had this silly way of saying, when she won the kitty, "Its mine, all mine." When anyone else won it, she would exclaim, "Cheating rogues." She too got pregnant after a couple of years marriage. She really seemed to bloom. The card games continued and when her bump was most noticeable she would put her stake money on the bulge and instead of her 'its mine all mine' routine, she would say, "Its ours, all ours, Baby."

It was in her eighth month that things started to go wrong, it was Toxaemia or something like that. She was rushed to hospital one morning before Tony had gone to work. She aborted; her baby was dead inside her. Before long she was fighting for her own life. They couldn't save her.

Rose's brother is an ambulance officer, and he heard that after she died, the mortuary attendant said how heart rending it was, to prepare the body of both the mother and child together. They placed the baby in Sally's arms in her coffin. The attendant, who Rose's brother said, is usually quite hard bitten, said there were tears in Sally's eyes when he did so. There is probably some quite reasonable explanation for this. But Sally was always straight up and would always show you how she felt.

That was Sally.