Wednesday, May 15, 2019

Oh! Wonder-days! (short-story) Part 3 0f 6


A hellion August-day offered no relief from the inferno descended on the river-bottom plain.

Why “The-Governor” had pointed his shiny red Cadillac-convertible up that desolate, dusty road, Lo! These so-many years ago? She had entertained that very query myriad times since then.

No! He certainly weren’t no “Governor”! She knew that without hearing his first word.

In a fury of summer dust flared to life in the onslaught of a highly revved fiery-red chariot on a hot July afternoon as the young-gal shuffled her bare feet in the hot dirt delaying completion of the chore removing air-dried clothes fresh-washed at the garden-creek from the hemp-line stretched between the corner of the ramshackle-shack and the out-house eave.

Hessie hated “wash”-day! But, enjoyed her “au-natural” cool-creek cleansing of her hot-body.

Hands on her lithe-hips, Hessie stood with a disdain-façade showing on her face as the red-“demon” slid to a halt in a “cloud-of-dust” that might have rivaled the ole “Lone-Ranger’s” steed. That the speedster drove a Cadillac did not escape her purview; curiosity supplanted her anger. Hell! That ole creek would still be clear and cool tomorrow! Today! Cadillac-man was calling! The second alluring color she noticed was his pearly-whites!

As a fury of dust settled over the shiny red of the halted-conveyance and upon her formerly crispy clean-white wash, Hessie stood her ground. Handsome Cadillac-man looked her up and down displaying his obvious-conclusion with a brilliant smile gleaming in the summer-sun.

“Girl!” He began in a high-pitched laugh, raising black-rim sunglasses for a better-view of his quarry, “You-all just might need to re-wash them there clothes. Looks like they done gone and got theirselves all grimy-dirty.” His laugh seemed more “flirting” than “menacing”.

“Sure-enough Sorry! About that ‘little’-accident!” He half-apologized.

Accident!” Her nostrils flared and anger-hate accented her words. “Accident!? Hell! Crazy!”

Hansdome laughed at her reaction. Holding his left palm forward as an olive-branch peace- offering, he tried to calm the angrily-excited young-beauty. She sure-enough was some-“looker”.

“Luvy! I’m sure-enough truly-sorry for any damage.”

He opended the side door. “Be more than happy to help you re-wash them there clothes.”

Hessie stood adamant, unsmiling, still angry. Secretly, she admired his looks and manners.

“I’m sorry! Missy!” Handsome tried. Then, smiling, “I’m Grover Thronton. The “Governor!

After a few seconds of silence, as the declaration of the interloper sank in, Hessie smiled, slightly. Letting his words echo through her mind, the smile broadened so wide that soon she could not control an hysteric-guffaw. “Governor!?” She queried in a bellicose insulting-outburst.

Handsome’s six-foot frame had exited the red-chariot; he seemed chagrined at the young-girl’s disrespect for his “honor”-moniker. Reminding himself to be careful of his infamous-temper, he forced a faux-smile. Handsome did not want to anger the girl, further.

“Just a nickname my buddies tagged me with. Young lady! A ‘play’ on ‘Grover’.”

“Well!---Governor!” Hessie laughed. Looking at his vehicle. “You sure do drive his car!”

“That’s a pretty smile! Girl!” Handsome offered. “Just what might your name be?”

Clasping her hands behind her back and taking a deep breath to enhance her full-figure for a young lady already enhanced by the thin cotton white-dress reaching six-inches above her knees. This girl was no novice when it came to the attentions of the “male”-gender.

Demurely, with her eyes downcast, she replied, simply, “Hessie! Just---Miss…Hessie!”

“Well! Pleased I am to make your acquaintance, Miss-Hessie!” He reached out his hand.

When she took his firm, large hand in her own, it was amazingly “cool” to the touch. She felt her heart flutter; this was a “man” she might very-well really like to get to know, much better.

Still holding his right-hand in her own, she allowed her left hand to touch his wide shoulder.

“My! Oh! My! Mr. Cadillac-man!” Her eyelashes fluttered. “You sure are a strong-one!”

The Governor, a man-of-the-world, so to speak, considering he had not been farther than ole Nashville-town up Tennessee-way, sized up the girl realizing he had met his match. This little slip of a girl had been around-the-block, more than once, if he was any judge; and, he surely was that; she reeked with the “woman”-scent of long-experience with men.

Hessie seemed to read his thoughts; she also made it clear that she was enjoying the dance.

“Y’all sure-enough reckon you can handle this here little ole-gal? Why? I ain’t nothin’ but a defenseless-young black-girl trying to make ends meet.” It sounded like an invitation.

Her eyes flashed in a somewhat inviting-way.

“Same ole-game,” he thought. “Parry & thrust!”

(Part 4 0f 6 tomorrow)

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