Sapphic Voices General Fiction

Colleen

Not that long ago, I was sorting through my stack of cassette tapes. I was hoping to find some I could donate to my church’s yard sale, when I came across one that made stop and smile. I sat there holding the tape and I started to think about a friend I had years ago and the one summer we shared together. “Colleen Walsh,” I spoke aloud with a chuckle, shaking my head. Her name hadn’t crossed my lips in as long as I can remember, but she always held a special place in my thoughts and in my heart. Holding that tape, a tape she had given me, brought me back to a very significant time in my life. It was the summer I first realized I was attracted to women. I guess you could call this my coming out story.

I’ve thought of her, and that summer often over the past twenty, or so, years. I mostly wonder where she is now and what she is doing. I pray that where ever she is, she’s happy and living her dream. I wonder if she remembers the time we had with the same regard, or if, for that matter, she even remembers me at all. I like to think she does, and that she wonders where I am and what I am doing. So just in case somewhere down the road, this story falls into her lap, this story is for you Colleen, wherever you are. Thanks for the memories and the impact you made in my life. If we only knew then how much our time together would help me to discover who I am.

I met Colleen Walsh in the late spring of 1986, just as school was letting out for the summer. Colleen and her mother moved into the house right behind mine. As I remember, I was watching the movers bring in their few possessions when she came over to introduce herself. They were, what you might call a transient family, always moving where her mother’s job would take them. Or at least that’s what they told people. Although, I honestly can’t say what her mother did for work.
When I was growing up I was a bit of Tom Boy, complete with the flannel shirts and baseball caps. I spent all of my time playing with the boys. After all, the boys in my neighborhood were the only kids my age. I never did mind very much though, the boys seemed like more fun anyway. I couldn’t understand why girls liked to play with Barbie, or stay clean in their little white dresses and pretend to be the little woman, home in the kitchen taking care of every little need of her family. I wanted to be out playing in the dirt. I loved playing ball, and riding bikes over jumps we would build ourselves. I would play with the boys for hours in the woods catching frogs and snakes, just to let them go.

If I wasn’t with the boys, I was hanging around my dad, trying to “help” with projects he was working on. I loved swinging that hammer, or using the saw. Anything that allowed me to spend more time with him and learn all he had to teach. In fact every night after dinner we would both find an excuse to hurry outside to work on the yard, rather that being inside with my mom and older sister, both of whom enjoyed sewing. But not me. Don’t get me wrong, I love my mom, and my sisters too, but I just didn’t feel right doing the typical girl stuff. Something about it made me feel like I was in the wrong place. I was always happiest swinging a hammer with my dad.

So when I met Colleen, I was more than a little surprised that I was so excited at the prospect of having another girl my age in the neighborhood. As I said before, it certainly wasn’t anything I had really missed. How could I miss it? I never really had it to begin with. Besides, I enjoyed hanging out with the boys. I could connect with them, I could relate to them. They didn’t seem to mind that I was a girl, and I didn’t mind it either. It all worked out just fine.

I soon discovered that Colleen and I were very different. I wonder if perhaps that was what made me want to spend time with her and learn all I could about this girl, and in reality about being a girl myself. I was twelve going on … well, twelve. She was thirteen, going on twenty. In reality there was less than a year between us, but it seemed like a lifetime to me. I was very naive, living a somewhat sheltered life and Colleen Walsh was not in any way, shape or form naive about much. I learned so much from just listening to her stories. She had lived so many places, and seemed to know the way of the world. Of course, perhaps the fact that I was a twelve year old girl who was still chasing frogs, could account to why I was so easily impressed. All the same though, I had lived in this neighborhood my whole life. Most of the families, who lived near us, had been there for generations as well. All my older siblings had been reared along side my friend’s older siblings. It was just the way it was. I believed that was how everyone was brought up. So to have this girl move in next door, just Colleen and her mom…let’s just say it was new and very interesting to me.

Not having ever met anyone like her before, I made sure to spend every waking moment by her side. I didn’t really understand why she seemed to enjoy the time she spent with me too. Maybe it was just because I listened to her and made her feel wanted. I guess it didn’t really matter why. It only mattered that she did want to be with me. I couldn’t wait for her to tell me her stories of all the places she had been and the people she had met. With her mom always working, and my stay at home mom just happy to see me finally have a girlfriend, we were practically inseparable. We spent all the time we wanted together that summer and lived every moment to the fullest.

Colleen was much more of what I would call a typical girl. She had long auburn hair, and she would spend, what seemed like hours to me, styling it everyday. Sometimes she would have it up in a playful ponytail, and other days it would hang free, gently draping over her shoulders. She had already hit puberty and was fully developed and she didn’t mind showing it off with the low cut shirts and high skirts she would wear. The longest eyelashes I had ever seen, perfectly outlined her deep brown eyes. I wasn’t sure why I wanted to spend so much time with her, since it seemed we had so little in common. But I would sit on her bed for hours while she prepared for the day, letting her parade in with different outfits and sometimes even helping her brush her hair. The rest of the time we didn’t have trouble finding something to fill our day. Before either of us knew it we had become the best of friends. We loved to just sit and talk for hours and hang out in my yard and watch the clouds go by. We would look for shapes in the clouds, and I would make up stories about the images we saw in the sky. Colleen would laugh, and life was good. We spent countless hours lying together in the grass, sharing our thoughts and our dreams.

Among our favorite things to do, was to listen to music while we sang at the top of our lungs. Janet Jackson was very popular at the time and we would dance around together giggling as we tried to mimic the dance moves she would do in her videos. Her “Control” album had just been released, and we were big fans. Colleen decided it would be fun to come up with her own dance to go along with the song “Nasty”. She said she liked the dance Janet Jackson had in the video, but she wanted to make it something special, something we could share as best friends. I went home for the night and she told me she would work on it and let me know when she had it perfected. Within a day or two, she was ready to show me her special dance and get my reaction. I didn’t know what she had in mind, nor did I know the effect it would have on me.

When I arrived at her house she greeted me with our usual hug, but somehow it seemed a little different to me. Not in a bad way, just maybe a little more intense. She closed the door behind us and made sure to lock it and pull down the blind. She took me by the hand and led me into the room we spent a lot of our time. It was an empty room, no furniture, not even a rug, just bare hardwood floors, a radio, Colleen and me. She was wearing one of her favorite outfits, a short blue jean skirt, and an oversized pink sweatshirt with the neck cut out so it hung over her shoulder. Under that, just a little black sleeveless shirt covering her flawlessly tanned skin. I had grown accustomed to the way Colleen would dress, but that day I couldn’t help but notice her just a little bit more.

Her long auburn hair glistened in the sunlight that streamed through the window. The beams seemed to dance as she carelessly tossed her hair back; telling me it was time to begin. Without a word she looked me in the eye a way I hadn’t seen before. She gently, put her hands on my shoulders and urged me to sit on the floor on one end of the room. She stood above me, inviting me in to the deep brown peace of her eyes.

It had already begun, she was in total control and I could only watch the game be played. I had to remind myself to breathe as she walked across the floor and slowly bent over from the waist, making sure her back was to me. All I could see was the back of her smooth calves and up to her perfectly tanned thighs. She turned her head to me, as if to check to make sure she had my attention. And she did, more than anyone had before. I wondered what these feeling I was having were, and what I should do with them. Consumed with her pure intensity, I only sat and watched.

I know now, that Colleen knew what she was doing to me. Even at that age she had found her power as a woman. But for me, it was all new and something told me that my innocence was part of the thrill for her. She was the predator, and I was her willing prey. I could have gotten up and left at any time, but I was a prisoner in her eyes, there was no escape. She looked away only for a moment as she slid the tape into place and slowly caressed the door shut.

The music began to play.

I was caught in her fiery gaze as she looked right through me to my very soul. She tipped her head forward so she had to lift her eyes to look at me, so intensely that she was all I could see. The music continued to play and she began moving her slender hips and running her hand through her long hair, just daring me to reach out and touch her. But I couldn’t move. I could feel my heart beating faster and faster. My hands were clenched so firmly to the floor I thought I might leave an indentation there. My whole body was at attention, and she had total power over me. I loved the feelings that she had awakened in me. The song continued and Colleen moved closer and closer. The harder she danced the more heavy her breathing became and I realized I was breathing just as hard. Finally she was right against me, her hands on the wall behind me, moving her body to the beat and never losing that piercing eye contact that refused to let me go.

As if finally finding some mercy for me, the song ended. Colleen’s mouth was at my ear. Her hot breath rolled down my neck. I was pressed between her and the wall and I couldn’t have escaped even if I wanted to. She was so close, if I had moved any part of my tingling body we would have touched. Part of me longed to reach out and touch her, wanting more. But another part was just a scared little girl, frozen in time, not knowing what to do. I was ready to explode. It was all so new to me.

I didn’t know I could feel passion like this, never mind for another woman. Then, as if she could feel the course of emotion flowing through my body, she softly rubbed her cheek to mine. I must have sighed, because a playful smile came across her face. She moved her hand to the opposite side of my face and whispered in my ear, “So, did you like my dance?” She lingered over me, waiting for me to respond. I tried to find the words to tell her what I was feeling, but I couldn’t even form one word. I turned my head to look at her, with my jaw hanging half way down to my chest. I still couldn’t take my eyes off her as I labored to catch my breath. Once again she just smiled at me, with that knowing grin. Then with a hint of laughter, she said, “I was hoping you would say that.” With her hand she stroked my face and tenderly turned my head away, and gave me a slow, soft kiss on my cheek, before falling in a heap beside me. We sat there together for a while, our hearts still pounding to the beat of the silence. Sitting shoulder to shoulder, we didn’t speak another word.

We never spoke of that afternoon, nor was the heat of that day ever repeated. Colleen was only there for that summer, living in that bare house, which was never really a home. When she left, we had our tearful good-byes and we made plans to keep in touch. In time, we drifted apart and I never had the opportunity to thank her for touching my life in a way only she could. But Colleen will always have a very special place in my heart. I will never forget her, that place or our summer of ’86.

If you have enjoyed L.F. Blanchard's "Colleen", then please be certain to e-mail her at  LFBlanchard[at]charter.net  and thank her for posting this Story.

Click here for a list of all of L.F. Blanchard's  Stories and Poetry at  Sapphic Voices Authoresses.

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