I met my bride over sixty years ago, at a duck pond near a library on Gentilly Blvd; near the Fox Movie theater on Elysian Fields. Flaming red hair, sparkling green eyes, a pale, creamy complexion, sprinkled with freckles. I was 7 she was 6. I was struck dumb. Like Charlie Brown in Peanuts, that little red headed girl had me.
I met her again when I was 17 and she was 16. I was a life guard at Pontchartrain Beach. Ironically, we were introduced by my friend from junior high school and his name was Charlie. I remembered her perfectly, she had no memory of me. She still had the flaming red hair, the big green eyes, and the creamy complexion with freckles and that damn funny smile. When she smiled the tip of her tongue would stick out at you. The whole package of her being struck me dumb, again! Charlie introduced us with complete perigees, I was a varsity football player at Warren Easton Boys Sr. High, and she was the editor of her school newspaper at East Jefferson Sr. High. Bitter rivals. She had just been crowned Ms. Jefferson Parish and on her way maybe to Ms.Louisiana and possibly to Ms. America. She was a real beauty; and that was not just my opinion! It was easy to see that she was used to having men flock to her. And having them obey her every wish.
At that time Pontchartrain Beach had four life guard stations and we had to rotate between stations before we had a break. As I rotated in, I stopped by where she was under a tent. A tent on a beach! Her skin was so fair that she blistered easily. I told her that I was on a break and said that I was going for a coke and I asked her if she wanted one. She said that I could bring her one back. I looked at her and said, "If you want one, you can get up off you ass and come and get it!" I was suave and debonair - I was an asshole! But, she got up and followed me.
She has borne for me, seven children. She has taken, while I was at war, the harassing phone calls of hippies or peaceniks or whatever they were called. When told that I was raping young girls and butchering infants, she calmly asked for their name and addresses and assured them - that as soon as I returned, she could make sure that I would come and visit them and demonstrate the skills that I learned in Southeast Asia. Interesting enough the phone calls stopped.
She, being unafraid; gave me courage.
I have been blessed, or cursed with contextual blindness. That means if I see someone out of the context that I am used to seeing them in - I don't recognize them! Since I am blind in one eye already, this does not strike me as particularly unusual or strange. If a woman dyes her hair, I will not recognize her. With my bride, I do not see an old wrinkled woman, that is fat, and has white hair. I see her as was; flaming red hair, bright green eyes, body to lust after, with a pale creamy complexion with freckles; inviting me to a life long adventure!
Once, when she was very ill and in danger of dying; I broke down to my son, David. I said that I didn't know what I would do if she died. That I didn't know how I could carry on if she were gone. David looked at me and said, "Don't worry about it Pops. You'll be dead in a year. That's the way that it is when two people have been together as long as you and Mom have been together." And he gave me my death pipe, that he had carved for me. (It's an American Indian thing, white people will not understand.) Strangely enough, I found this very comforting.
From wherever she calls me - I will follow. For she is MY Ayesha. She who must be obeyed.
