The boy had a good, carefree childhood, one that was almost gone. He’d be in his teens in a couple of years. He heard that adolescence robs a person of their youth. The boy was willing to find out anything he had to know. He was the soul of experimentation. The boy was walking in the woods, enjoying all the leaves of the trees. He was wading in the Rock Run that babbled through the rocks.

It was a hot summer’s day, but the boy didn’t care.

It was cool enough in the woods.

If childhood was going to be lost, all the more reason to embrace it while it lasted. There was no big game in those woods to threaten the boy. The day was a little more than half spent, according to his brand new watch. He knew he was expected for supper in awhile, and at that moment thought about his Grandma in the kitchen. His ancient Grandmother was working away in her kitchen.

Grandma was cool. She cooked the most wonderful meals. The boy enjoyed his grandma’s cooking. She was a good cook. He had no idea what she was fixing for the evening meal, but whatever it was, it was going to be delicious. The boy had confidence in Grandma’s cooking. He was certain he’d have to change his wet clothing when he got home, no wet shoes or pants were tolerated.

The boy was out in the woods.

Why worry now?

The deciduous trees around him helped the air temperature to stay cool more easily than anyplace outside the woods. The boy had long since learned it was cooler under the trees than anyplace else. He didn’t care about being robbed of his youth. He was a squared away kid. It was an abstract notion anyway, so why worry about abstractions. His bicycle lay on the ground a little ways away.

He’d have to ride the thing home a little later. But he was up to it.

The boy was care free that afternoon, wading in that run. It was all he cared about. He believed his existence was secure there. Nothing would hurt him in those woods, no grown up thing, responsibility, or stray thought could touch the boy there. It was summer, and he was not going to bring trouble into those woods to worry about. Why concern himself with shadows?

The girl seemed to come out of nowhere, like some kind of storybook character. Alice was a nice, pleasant person and seemed to want to share the boy’s woods with him for awhile. The girl didn’t seem the least bit uncomfortable with the boy, or visa versa. They got along well enough, in silence. She was kind of cute in the eyes of the boy, and estimated they were about the same age.

He didn’t have a lot of trouble getting along with her. She was a pleasant person, with a sweet look about her. It was about the right time of life for a boy and a girl to notice one another. The bottoms of his pants were wet. She climb up his rock with him and got her blue jeans wet in return. They laughed. She wanted to be close to this boy, but didn’t want to touch him yet.

Silence was golden.

She said her name was Alice, in velvet tones to her kind voice, recommending herself with her tone and her inflection. He called himself Greg, hoping he wasn’t too abrupt with Alice. She didn’t seem to be concerned. Greg was nervous, but Alice wasn’t. They were a couple of kids, sitting on a rock in the middle of Rock Run. Greg didn’t want to ask, but he wondered where Alice was from.

Alice was definitely a girl, and carried her femininity with confidence. This was a matter of curiosity to the boy. Greg wondered at this, and wondered at his own, extreme discomfort. How could Alice be so completely comfortable, while Greg was such a nervous wreck? He’d worried about that later. Wherever she was from, Greg was hoping Alice would stay awhile.

He made a mental note to ask Alice for her phone number, wondering where on earth he’d put it? Rock Run was not a deep run. The entire run was liberally strewn with all sorts rocks of many sizes, but Greg could not see himself relaxing. He decided that his front pocket was a likely place. Poor boy could only mouth the words, so he remained without Alice’s number for the moment.

Nature took it’s course, and Alice experimentally took Greg by the hand. He could feel the warmth of her hand in his, and forgot all about her phone number. Alice scooted a little closer to Greg on their rock. There was this and there was that, and she reached up, being of a smaller stature. Alice gently kissed Greg on the lips.

Greg’s thoughts were going a mile a minute, as they both became a little older, and a little wiser in just a moment. The texture, strength, and shape of Alice’s hand in his, was infinitely fascinating to Greg’s touch and thoughts. The usual taboo of nice guys never touching girls, was suspended for just a moment. Greg had an initiation into what it was to have his “very own girl.”

Abruptly, Alice rose to her feet, as though she found herself suddenly in a hurry. Wading through the water again, this time in a little bit of a hurry, Alice had nothing to do but gain the road. Greg scarcely noticed Alice was leaving. The girl mounted the hill and gained the road effortlessly enough, as though climbing the little bit of a hill, to get to the road, amounted to no effort at all.

Ideally, Alice would have been much better advised to have made a more graceful exit, but she had wet her pants in all the action. She was too embarrassed with herself to think to do anything else about it, except to get away from this boy as quickly as possible. Alice didn’t know this, but she was every bit the novice at all this hand holding and experimental kissing, that Greg was.

Unknown to Alice, Greg was perpetually lost in a million daydreams, still sitting on their rock, since all this hand holding and kissing played repeatedly in Greg’s young heart. Theses facts were every bit as novel to him as to her. While Alice made a childish, embarrassed, hasty retreat, Greg was lost in abstraction, not noticing the love songs playing in his mind playing repeatedly.

His dream was a very powerful, overwhelming phenomenon that held him captive.

When Greg finally came to his senses, Alice was long gone. He didn’t have any idea what Alice’s full name was, or where she lived, Greg didn’t stop asking friends for a very long time. He habitually went to their rock in Rock Run, endeavoring to resurrect the person called Alice, from the fact that she was long gone, without explanation.

Life made inroads against him and his feelings.


About geostan51

I'm a wordsmith and a craftsman. I've been known to hand crochet just about anything escept granny squares. I've got about twenty titles in my name on the Kindle Store at
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