a short story by Hillbilly

hillbilly

just a lil rough draft.... the short stories come out from time to time and live in a notebook.... This was not the usual January night in Pemmiscott County, Missouri. It was cold, cold and clear. Along the west bank of the Mississippi river fog was common this time of the year, not this night. This night was clear and the rural sky was bright with stars to the east. The full moon was resting on the shelf of prairie to the west... just sort of sitting on the horizon like momma's favorite plate on the sideboard. This was the night I'd always remember. Patrica Gayle was the kind of girl dreams are made of. She was full of life and gentle..had the soul of a poet. When Patty kissed , you knew you'd been kissed. The Irish blood that flowed in her veins fueled her passion for life and love. Patrica had no lack of male attention. She was about 5 foot, 3 inches tall and weighed 110 pounds soaking wet. The first thing you noticed about Patty was her eyes, two wonder full hazel pools, full of fun and a twinkle and a bit of the Devil. The auburn hair was striking... a torrent of the most gorgeous red tresses caressed her shoulders, and framed her delicate face. If looks count for much, I had been damned lucky to have caught her eye and dated her as long as I had. Patrica was the kind of girl men dream of their whole life and I was in love with her. It had been snowing in the Mississippi Valley that day. Southeastern Missouri and Western Tennessee are usually cold, dark and damp in January. The snowfall was a novel surprise. My day had been a usual young man's Saturday, sleep a little late to recover from Friday night, then a day doing chores and running errands. The whole day thoughts of a night out with Patty were in the background adding texture to all my other thoughts. She was wonderful to think of. About 4 pm, I headed west across the River. The new bridge was a gateway to new and greater things and the trip west never failed to perk up my imagination. The snow- bearing front had passed and I faced a bright sun. Four inches of white show coated the fallow bean Fields and winter wheat as I crossed the bottoms heading for the Mississippi River. This land looked like a fantasy in white.... my mind had always seen those bottoms as plowed brown mud or green... as far as the eye could see. The white seemed a little mystical as I let my imagination run for a moment. The date went as most 19 year old dates go. A forty mile dash to Blytheville, Arkansas. "Big City" to us... At that age you make your own fun... and Patty was the best. She could dance and sing and was a free spirit. I loved her so. Her hands were small and warm. She was always fun...trips to Memphis... or shooting pool at a rec hall in Deering, Patty was the belle of my ball. The sky was black, but the moon was bright enough to read a paper under. Patty's folks lived in a little house surrounded by soybeans. Pemmiscott County is a rolling prairie that takes one gently uphill from the River to the foothills of the Ozarks. My ancient pick-up rounded the turn onto Patty's road. A couple of miles later, we pulled up into her yard... the usual din and ruckus of happy dogs was absent, the cold kept them in the shed. We lingered for a second. I was as sure as anything- and had made up my mind. I was going to ask her hand in marriage. Right then. Ring or not. I went around and opened her door. She stepped out...the moon was behind us and she was facing right into the most wonderful moon light. Patty put both hands on my chest and stepped in closer. My mind was racing as my tongue tried to wrestle out the question I was about to ask. She laid her cheek on my chest and looked up at me. "I love you and would never want to hurt you, but..." came out of her mouth. " I need to go back with Robbie...". The she opened my old GI Flying jacket and slipped her arms around me. I felt her shudder, it was cold. We stood there, holding each other on a moonlit, prairie sea of white for what seemed like hours. She was gently crying... I'm sure I said something as I walked her to the porch, but whatever it was wasn't enough. For a long time cold, clear winter nights hurt like hell. I'd walk out on the snow, count the diamond stars on the black sky... and look at that moon shining like Sunday china on the shelf. If any of ya'all know Patty...or is Patricia please let me know--- ---------------Hill

Mac

If any of ya'all know Patty...or is Patricia please let me know---

Don't know Patty...but I have experienced that passion of an Irish kiss...nothing compares!

Nice stuff Hilly....how the hell are ya?

mac

hillbilly

Brian-- Just livin my dream best pal.... how have you been?

Hill ( the good beers at the bottom of the cooler class)

Mac

Glad to hear it my friend...doing good.

* Donning my scuba gear and diving to the bottom..I know ya always hide the Guinness down there ya trickster you!*

Brian

hillbilly

about a week after this happened the song "What a Fool Believes" by the Doobie Brothers came out...sorta became my anthem for a long time.

The rest of the story may come along if you guys care to hear it..

-------------Hill (i get whiskey bent and hell bound class)

hillbilly

BTT-- never come in here for pity folks but I'm hurtin a lil bit tonight....

xenawarrior

(((((((((((((Hilly))))))))))))))

Keep writing !! You have a way with words- great story !!

Sorry you are feeling down

Edited to add:

I'm sorry, I didn't know it was a true story- I'm sorry you were hurt !!

XW

hillbilly

(((((((((((((Lisa)))))))))))) you are always a sweetheart! True stories are always the best, are they not?

I guess 25 years is a long time to carry a torch....but we are the sum of our parts.

------------Hill ( the "He Stopped Loving Her Today" is a long time off class)

Robdar

Your story touches me. I wish I knew Patty. If I ever run into her, I'll tell her how you still miss her.

(((((Hillbilly)))))

Robyn

xenawarrior

....but we are the sum of our parts.

Oh so true my friend !! And that old cliche "what doesn't kill us makes us stronger" It really is true. But can we skip that part sometimes and just have the "stronger" without the pain?

Hang in there !!!

Lisa

a short story by Hillbilly

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