Karen
1984
It’s never really a man’s choice.
Or at least back then it wasn’t.
But then you see her. It could be her long dark hair, her glittering smile, the way her hips sway that hypnotizes you. It doesn’t really matter what starts the conversation with a woman, it just matters how the conversation ends.
Karen simply just smelled like sweetness. If I was an alcoholic, I would get drunk on her scent. Every time she got close, my senses went into overdrive shutting down any semblance of cognitive brain function. I would trip on seemingly easy words like “Hello” or “Hi” as my mouth refused to open so my nose could just breath her in.
“Are you trying to smell me?” she demanded.
The first time you feel the touch of woman, well you aren’t really alive till then. I mean sure you came out of your mother, felt the cold air of life, maybe even cried a little. But until you feel the soft hands of beautiful woman caressing you, you haven’t lived.
It came faster than I thought, I mean really I didn’t even expect it. A right hook that came out of nowhere, it was a solid blow, her stance was wide and even and she definitely put her budding hips in it. I would have been pretty impressed with the sheer supine form of her body but at the current moment I was laying on the ground, wondering how I got there.
From my vantage point, in some ways, things were looking up. Karen was wearing a tight t-shirt with our school mascot an orange tiger on a field of dark blue and cut off jean shorts, a uniquely American fashion item that even at not so scandalous lengths, I was completely mesmerized by. Her skin was radiant white, almost blindingly so, with hints of freckles but as a runner, her calfs had definition and curves that until this point I had never gotten so close too.
“Don’t ever do that again you weirdo!”
Shaking it off, trying to pretend it was nothing that I just gotten decked by own teammate, I stood up and meekly replied.
“Sorry, you j, ju, ju, just smell really nice. Like flowers.”
I mean at this point in my career I was by no means a casanova but I knew somewhere within me, I could find the poetry that would move mountains to get to my girl.
“Oh…” she grinned and something about her demeanor changed. Far from the usual tom boyish athlete she usually was, her skin started to redden and she looked down shyly. “That’s nice of you to say.”
The sun was setting behind the fences of the baseball field, and the fresh cut smell of spring grass was everywhere. We were hidden from view by the bleachers and the very air itself promised electricity.
Slightly taller than me, she moved in closer than I thought was possible, her eyes closed and a hint of smile on her tiny but inviting red red lips. I could smell the strawberry shampoo in her hair and every red freckle was magnified on her porcelain face. We connected slowly, stumbling into each other with a soft touch that had a pressure that I’ve come to understand is one of god’s greatest gifts. Lips slightly wet and mouths sweetly wrapped, I had found a new addiction.
It was my first kiss and recess was over. I walked back into kindergarten feeling like a king among men.
“Karen” is the first chapter in my yet unnamed novel. I’ll be releasing the first five chapters for free on Medium. Stay tuned for future updates by following me @kidbombay.
