Just like you, I had a lot of good advice from my mother. You know, the advice we let bead and run off us like rain. Funny thing though, when Mom is no longer with us, it all comes flooding back, doesn’t it?
The one I’ve been thinking about lately is, “Don’t talk to strangers.” While relaxing tonight and letting my thoughts drift aimlessly into the past, I remembered a night when I was only fourteen years old and met a boy at a skating rink. No, not the one I married! This was before his time.
His name was Rob Horner. And yes, he had a brother named Jack. This probably won’t mean a thing to those of you who are under forty. You see, Little Jack Horner is the name of a nursery rhyme – and nursery rhymes are a thing of the past.
As I said, I was at a roller rink with my cousin, Liz, when I noticed a boy watching me. When it was time to go home, he was waiting at the door. He introduced himself and asked my name. When I told him, he said, “Could my brother and I offer you ladies a ride home?” I was only fourteen, but when this boy smiled, revealing his gleaming white teeth – his eyes twinkling like Sirius, the brightest star in the heavens – I was smitten!
That was many summers ago. I was visiting my grandparents in a small town and the skating rink was within walking distance of their home. In those days, in that small town, there was no fear of talking to strangers. He was a local boy and it was perfectly okay to accept his offer of a ride home. At least that's what I decided.
The strangest thing was, when we got outside, he took my hand and led me to his car, which, to my surprise, was a long, black limousine! He opened the front door and motioned for Liz to get in beside his brother, then he opened the back door, ushered me in and quickly slid in beside me. I was awestruck!
The four of us made small talk during the short trip home. The boys were perfect gentlemen. When we pulled up in front of my grandparents’ home, both of them got out and opened the doors for us. We thanked them, said good-night and giggled as we watched them drive away. I didn’t know the word then, but today, I would dub the whole experience, “surreal.”
So many questions went through my mind as I lay in my bed reliving the incident. I wondered where these two boys had come from and why were they driving a car that looked like a hearse? And more important, why had I agreed to let them drive us home? I’d felt almost hypnotized! It was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to me and I knew I’d never forget it. Yet, I couldn’t help but feel it was peculiar… and although I hadn’t done anything wrong, I felt guilty. What would my parents think?
I slept fitfully and woke up early thinking about Rob and his big, long, black limousine. Is it possible it was all a dream?
I slept fitfully and woke up early thinking about Rob and his big, long, black limousine. Is it possible it was all a dream?
I truly hope it was because I just know my mother is somewhere scowling and shaking her finger at me!
9 comments:
What a cute little story. Did it really happen or was it a dream? Janice
It must have been a dream peg. nobody would have had a long black limousine that long ago.
you're messin with us aren't you peg. did it really happen? sam
Funny. I like it peg.
Shame on you . . . but it was fun, wasn't it.
Hugh
How do you do it, Peg? You just keep coming up with entertaining stories for us. Thanks! I love this one.
luella
What I got from this is that Nursery Rhymes are old hat, so sad! :)
Sad, indeed! :(
I grew up on nursery rhymes, taught my children, and now tell them to my grandkids. Let's hope they aren't passé. As for the limo, live it like it was real, whether it was or not! :D What a memory!
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