sShe was easily the most radiant thing in that dusty quadrangle defined by the canteen, two bunkhouses and the tabernacle, she with her form sculpted from my fantasies and erected there in my path. She drew me on with her eyes, which even at some distance I could tell twinkled with joy, (or was it mockery?)
She looked at me over the shoulder of her friend, listening to the friend, talking to the friend, but looking at me, her lips upturned slightly, her dimples barely visible, possibly smiling at me (or, just as possibly,) trying to conceal laughter: laughter at the ease with which she manipulated my movement.
I knew her name. I knew her parents. I knew the boys she had dated. But I had never spoken directly to her before
that day, that day she stood there, glowing, in the middle of the yard, with that hair just the color of the hair I always dreamed about whenever I dreamed of girls, and her clothing, modest though it was here at church camp, still not modest enough to obscure her allure. I was drawn to her like interstellar debris sucked into the orbit of an irresistible c
osmic body.
She looked at me over the shoulder of her friend, listening to the friend, talking to the friend, but looking at me, her lips upturned slightly, her dimples barely visible, possibly smiling at me (or, just as possibly,) trying to conceal laughter: laughter at the ease with which she manipulated my movement.
I knew her name. I knew her parents. I knew the boys she had dated. But I had never spoken directly to her before
that day, that day she stood there, glowing, in the middle of the yard, with that hair just the color of the hair I always dreamed about whenever I dreamed of girls, and her clothing, modest though it was here at church camp, still not modest enough to obscure her allure. I was drawn to her like interstellar debris sucked into the orbit of an irresistible c
osmic body. I was not usually afraid to speak. I had performed onstage in crowded church and school auditoriums. I had been on debate teams, made speeches at school and for two years now had hosted my own weekend show on the truly lousy local radio station. No, I had never been afraid to speak; never, until now.
And I, whose ambition it was to be a writer, I who wrote poems and stories and read them to my unresponsive brother far into the night after we were supposed to b
e asleep, I who waged constant verbal combat in history class with my tirades against evolution (because I believed everything my preacher said about it at the time,) I... was unaccountably out of words.When I couldn't take another step without meshing our three bodies into one, I stopped, speechless, rigid. The friend turned my way and giggled. Sherry dropped her head, then glanced slyly upward through long lashes, smile widening, dimples deepening.
S
She bathed me with her eyes, bemused, as if I were some harmless alien creature with whose care she had just been entrusted. Her
demeanor empowered me, and a torrent of unplanned words spurted suddenly from my mouth. I heard myself ask if I might sit beside her that evening in the worship service. She gave me a soft "yes" and we made arrangements to meet by the solitary pine that towered near the tabernacle.And now--so many years later!--I no longer argue about unimportant things such as evolution. Now I stand up only for the things that really matter, the things I know are true: such as love at first sight.
