Corner of Third and Heaven

First time I saw her was one the front porch of the house next door, playing jacks with Celia. I haven’t seen a grown woman playing jacks since I was a child, damned near half a century ago. The idea alone gives me wood. I was walking out the backyard to the front of my house. I can’t remember why. Maybe it was the sound of the road workers fuckin’ up my Saturday morning ritual, with that jackhammering, maybe it her little brother Krishna taking another beating from the neighborhood bully. Kris took a beat down at least once a day. In fact he would go looking for that lump head punk bastard to pummel him. I can’t remember that little ass hole’s name, but it gave me more joy than I should have when Kris finally whipped his ass. I remembered my own emancipation day. Momma was as tired of whipping my ass for having to take off work to get me back in school for getting my ass whooped. I remember that son of bitches name like it was my own, Vernon Graham. “Butterfly, I know I told you not to fight. I know I told you I’d beat you raw for fighting, but this is enough. I’m giving you permission to defend yourself.” That was all I needed. For Krishna I know it was the same intoxicating mélange of fear and joy. One hit and the kid was out for the whole day, jaw wired and a full halo. I hate that I missed the blow, but when he yelled out, “Key Yah!” the siding on my house shook. 

I walked out and turned in response to the most beautiful laughter I’d ever heard. My eyes locked and jaw dropped wide open. Trulie was on all fours, big ole butt, smack in my face, lightly bouncing off a wood grain synthetic baluster. “Gottdam! That’s a lot of ass, and the prettiest sun dress I’ve seen in decades.” Robin’s egg blue with a rainbow of small polka dots on the exposed layer of her gauzy white petticoat kissing her bobby socks, crossed ankles and gum sole white canvas sneakers. Before I had realized it, I had spoken my excitement out loud. “I’d love to sink my teeth in that, first thing in the morning”. Trulie stood up turned and stared me down with a librarian nun’s eyes, the regal, gentle face of a princess, a slight overbite, one dimple in her right cheek, a mole high on the other and smallish clear sable brown eyes, that leered over her glasses,  opened wide as she quickly admonished me. “Please control your mouth with more respect when you’re in the polite company of ladies and children”. Then she leaned slightly forward and whispered, “Thank you. I’ve been in need of a proper compliment all day. I’m your new neighbor, Stacy, It’s Delphine Anastasia, but I like Stacy” Extending her hand. “I live next door on the other side of you. And you are Sir?”  Celia giggled out in her cotton candy voice, loud, soft blue light and airy, but too sweet, “That’s Mr. Bubbles. He’s only mean in the mornings. He makes stuff in his shop around the corner all night and hates noise before his coffee, but he’s always kind of blue like the cat”. I grumbled out an apology and an uncomfortable greeting. Did whatever I was supposed to do, pick up the paper from the hedges or gutter or turn on the sprinklers or something and walked uncomfortably back to my sun porch, scratching my chest and thinking about her smile, her scent, like a pure white bar of soap, fresh garden herbs and faintly of uncontrolled teen aged pheromones. I was confused because that bitch was a full grown woman, not less than thirty. 

The thought and memory of that moment drove me to swat her hip hard, growl and bite down on her neck, like a cat. And she responded offering me her neck. The bells on her ankles tinkling mixed with the Plumeria and Arabian Jasmine incense, softly thrumming music and candles.