A Father's Influence: Vignette #3
A June day twenty-five years ago at Point Pleasant
It was late afternoon when the five-year old boy followed his father up the beach to the boardwalk. His father didn't know his son was following him. The boy adored his father and wanted to spend as much time as he could with him. He also liked adventure and the thought of tailing his dad without his knowledge was exciting. The father had left all six of his children in the care of his sister and her husband and their passel of kids to search for his wife. About an hour ago she'd said she was getting too much sun and retreated to the shops along the boardwalk.
As they reached the crowded wooden walkway, the little dark-skinned boy moved closer to his father trying to keep him in sight. His father was wearing a white shirt, tan shorts and a pair of black flip-flops. With all the people milling about, the little boy could only see the lower half of his father as he made his way down the boardwalk.
Suddenly he saw his father stop and wave at someone. With quickened steps, his father strode across the deck toward a row of shops. Darting between the moving bodies, the little boy tried to keep up with his father, but lost him for awhile.
When he finally caught up to the tall, handsome man, he was with a woman. He had his arm around her shoulders and she had her arm around his waist and they were walking away from the boy. The little boy could only see the back of the woman. She was much shorter than his father with long dark hair flowing about her bare shoulders. She was wearing a bright yellow sundress that hugged the top half of her and flowed about her hips and legs.
The woman was about the same height as his mother, but his father couldn't be with her because his mother was wearing her hair piled on top her head and her dress was a loose white lounger dotted with little blue flowers. He remembered when she slipped it off to play in the water with him earlier in the day. She'd been wearing a navy blue bathing suit underneath. His mother had been in a great mood and acted just like the rest of the kids, splashing and shrieking when the waves hit her legs. The day had been a lot of fun for everyone.
His father was normally too busy working during the week to be able to spend much time with his children, but on weekends or on vacations like this, he gave his wife and children his undivided attention. Today, he'd spent at least an hour with each of his six children, playing with them and talking about all sorts of things depending on each child's interests.
Noticing his father had stopped in front of an iron gate, the little boy scampered into a shop doorway. He watched as his father unlocked the gate with a key and led the strange woman inside. The gate was closed again by the time the boy reached it. At first he didn't see anyone, just a small shaded courtyard filled with many round tables and lots of potted plants. It was cool and quiet and he didn't see any people. Then he saw movement along the wall nearest the boardwalk. His father was smiling and leaning into a dark opening that looked like a doorway in the wall. The woman must have been standing inside the doorway, but the boy couldn't see her. He could hear her laughing though.
Not wanting to get caught snooping, the boy squatted down behind a large potted plant just outside the end of the iron fence. Unless they looked closely, no one could see the boy, not the people on the boardwalk or his father.
He could barely see his father anymore. The big man was pressed into the dark opening so the boy only caught an occasional glimpse of his father's back as he moved back and forth. He had no idea what they were doing, but they seemed to be having a lot of fun. He could hear the low dulcet tones of the woman as she laughed and made other pleasurable sounds. His father was speaking quietly in Spanish, like he did when he was kissing and hugging the boy's mother in the kitchen when they thought the kids weren't looking.
The little boy started to get angry, thinking his father was kissing another woman. He stood up and was about to call out to his father and demand to know who he was with, when he heard his mother's voice. She shouted his father's first name, followed more quietly with, "Eso fue maravilloso." [That was wonderful.]
Puzzled, the boy stepped back away from the gate and moved back down to the shop doorway. A few minutes later, his father and, yes, the woman was his mother, stepped out of the courtyard, his father relocking the gate behind him. His mother looked radiant, her cheeks were rosy, probably from all the sun she got today. The big man had his arm around her waist and was wearing the biggest smile the young child had ever seen on his father's face.
The little boy thought to himself he would have to take his novia into a secluded doorway and kiss her when he got old enough to date his one true love. He just knew someday he would again meet the little curly-haired, blue-eyed girl he'd kissed earlier today down by the beach. He knew he would like kissing her when they were alone much better than kissing her out in the open like he did today. It must be a lot of fun to kiss and hug your girl if it put such big smiles on both his parents' faces.
AN: Novia is Spanish for girlfriend or betrothed.
As his parents' strolled arm in arm down the crowded walkway, the big-shouldered man stopped at an ice cream stand and bought two vanilla cones dipped in chocolate. Trying not to drool, the little boy told himself he didn't really like sweets all that much. He watched wistfully as his parents greedily licked their treats before the summer heat melted them.
The little boy was so mesmerized by his parents' sweet treats that he almost missed seeing his novia. She was riding on top a tall, dark-haired man's shoulders, her father the boy assumed. The girl was laughing, her beautiful brown curls tossing around her face as she tried to look at everything at once. The man had one arm draped protectively over the girl's leg and his other arm around a really short woman's shoulder. The petite woman held the hand of another brown-haired girl. They looked like a happy family.
The little boy was tempted to run after them, but his parents stepped off the boardwalk and started walking down to the beach. With one last lingering look, he caught the little girl's eye just before she and her family passed him. Her face broke out into a smile as she recognized him and gave him a little finger wave as they walked by. He smiled and waved back before jumping off the platform and chasing after his parents.
Shuffling their feet in the hot sand, his parents slowly headed toward a cluster of a dozen dark-skinned kids surrounding two harried adults. The little boy had no trouble dashing through several other groups of people to race behind his family and appear as if he'd always been there. In the crowd of shouting, pushing kids, no one had even noticed he'd been gone.
Everyone grabbed up towels, toys and other belongings and made their way back to the parking lot and their two station wagons. The little boy watched his father and his uncle in close conversation, both grinning. His uncle playfully punched his father in the upper arm, shouting at him, "Tienes algo, no? ¡Perro sucio! ¡Que el hombre de suerte!" [You got some, didn't you? You dirty dog! What a lucky man!]
Adults were funny, sometimes in a strange way. His uncle seemed to want to bring his mother and aunt into the conversation, but his father was quietly and frantically trying to shut his uncle up. He was mad enough to use cuss words, which his father rarely used. "¡Cállate, tú pinga ruidoso!" [Shut up, you loud-mouthed dickhead!]
Why did his uncle think his dad was so lucky? Maybe because he found out his dad had had a chocolate dipped ice cream cone? But so had his mother, so wasn't she lucky too?
They loaded up all their beach gear and piled into their respective vehicles. Within minutes, his brother and four sisters were dozing off to sleep. It had been a long and busy day and everyone was sunburned and tired.
In the front seat, his parents were quietly talking to each other, his father telling his mother how beautiful she looked in her new sundress and his mother responding she should buy a new dress more often if today was his typical reaction. The boy modestly looked away as his mother leaned over and kissed his father's cheek and stroked the back of his neck. His parents were always touching each other. Sometimes it was embarrassing, but most of the time he liked it. They seemed happy.
Soon the little boy dropped off into his 'quiet place,' but he didn't sleep. Visions of a curly-haired, blue-eyed sweetheart filled his thoughts and he rode home with a big smile plastered on his face, not unlike the one his father wore.