The Girl with the Golden Hair

The day ran blue with chilling color. Tiny circles of steamy breath encircled our heads as if we had become angels of ice. I turned to Boo who stood stomping her feet and shoving her hands into the deep recesses or her pockets in an attempt to warm them. Her collar stood up against her cheeks and framing her face was a cherry-colored scarf that twined and turned itself about her neck until it completely removed all thoughts of icy penetration. Her long brown coat swept across the top of the ice-encrusted snow and her fur-lined boots pounded and pounded until her feet surely became pained with the ache.

I gaped at Boo, wondering how anyone as cold as she presently must have been could carry on with such an outward display of wasted activity. I felt that all of my stored energy could be put to better use in finding the nearest sport that emitted the greatest amount of warmth. Obviously, Boo had other ideas.

"Henry, I'm so cold…let's go," Boo's whining voice let me know she had no desire to talk in this dismal cold,. My sentiments exactly. I set off in a brisk pace towards Morey's General Store knowing fully that Boo, setting another example of her blind faith in my leadership capabilities, would follow.

"Henry!" The cry crackled through the cold air until it reached my ears. "Henry! Whereare you going?"

I turned to face Boo, amazed at her sudden change of nature from a meek mouse to a screaming banshee. "Ah, come on, Boo, I'm just going to Morey's."

With the knowledge of my intentions, Book quickly caught up with me to speak almost harshly in my ear. "All right. But don't you plan on going and spending all my savings because I am not going to let you."

I smiled at Boo's statement, falling back to memories of previous announcements much like this one. The most recent one had occurred last summer when Boo took a stand in this same field. The only thing different about now versus then was the field: now it was snow-covered. In the summer, the field exploded with wild flowers of a dozen different colors. Everywhere you looked you saw yellow and orange, white and blue. Now, it flowed with expansive white, no break in the tired monotony.

As if to prove her point, Boo pulled off her mitten and showed in her hand the three quarters and two shiny dimes. "I've worked hard these last few months to save up this here money, Henry Joe Robbins, and I am not about to let you spend it all on cheap comic books and penny candy. So you best get any darn fool notion you have to that effect out of that lame brain of yours because I am not going to give you any of my money!" Boo nearly spitted with fury. "So, forget it."

I just smiled once more and continued treading on down to Morey's to see what new comic books he might have acquired in the past few months. My lanky legs, stork legs my ma called them, carried me further and further from the spot where Boo still stood until she had to run on her stumpy little limbs to catch up with me. When she did reach me, all breathless and rosy-cheeked, she looked deep into my sky-blue eyes. "I mean it this time, Henry, I really do," she breathed and then gasped for hard-sought air.

Gazing at her flushed cheeks and studying her pale, green eyes that looked up so woefully to me, I quietly agreed with her, "Yep, Boo, whatever you say."

There had been a time when Boo and I had looked eye to eye, when my shoulder bumped hers when we walked close together. But Boo, now nearing the ripe old age of fourteen, had ceased growing upwards while my body had shot up twice as fast. I turned fifteen this past summer and was still growing. Already I was a head taller than little Boo. Out here, in the middle of the snowy field, I looked down again into the mossy eyes of Boo before I turned towards Morey's once more. This time, without a peep, she followed with her breathing harsh and quick, until we climbed the ancient wooden steps that led into Morey's. Old Morey had swept and salted the steps clean from the latest snowfall so Boo and I stomped our boots carefully, shaking off the loose snow particles that happened to linger on them. The little bell that hung above the door tinkled out our arrivals aw we opened the huge old wooden door and Morey, looking up at us from his account book, peered at me with a scornful eye over the tip of his spectacles that perched precariously at the tip of his hooked nose.

"G'day, Henry," he murmured.

"G'day Mr. Morrison," I answered respectfully.

"What can I do for you today, Henry?" he got directly to the point.

"Boo and I just came in to look around a bit, Mr. Morrison, if that is alright with you," I asked.

Old Morey glanced behind my figure to see Boo nearly cowering there. Whether she did so out of fear or because she was still cold, I'll never know.

Mr. Morrison turned his attention to her, "G'day, Boo."

"G'day, Mr. Morrison," Boo managed to squeak out. A timid mouse, which was Boo.

"Come to take a look-see at my new comic books, have you, Henry boy?"

Boo shot me through with a killing glance that spoke louder than words before she drifted off to the back of the store where Mrs. Morrison could be found amid yards of ribbon and bolts of fabric. I turned my attention to the comic book shelf where I saw a few new volumes but before I could touch one, I heard a beckoning wisp of air from behind me. I turned around to see old Morey motioning to me with the crook of his finger.

"Henry boy," Morey kept his voice low, "Ain't your getting a tad old for comic books?"

I noticed a distinct "Old Morey sneer" creeping across the old-timer's face, "That depends, Mr. Morrison, on what you all mean by old. Look here, you are still calling me Henry Boy."

"I know that," old Morey sounded exasperated. "It's just because old habits are hard to break. I still think you are a mite old for comics."

I knew Morey too well. "Maybe I am and maybe I ain't. Just what do you all have in mind to replace my comics?"

"I just got in some handsome western magazines…"

I brushed off his reply quickly. "I ain't interested in any western magazines, Mr. Morrison, and you know that. So just what is it that you really think I should spend my money on?"

Morey's eyes darted apprehensively to the back of the store to make sure of his wife's or maybe Boo's whereabouts. They were still there; Mrs. Morrison was showing some filly new ribbons to Boo.

"I think you'd best be spending you money on this here "Girl with the Golden Hair", he winked at me conspiratorially.

What old Morey showed me nearly knocked me down like a horses kick. For what he had was a fancy picture of a girl nearly stark naked! I reached out to touch this strange yet beautiful thing but Morey pulled it away from my grasping hands.

"These here pictures cost 25 cents, Henry boy, and you won't be looking at it any more until I see some money."

I was close to dying for wanting to see that golden haired beauty again. I dug deep into my dungarees and came out with the shiny new quarter my Aunt Edna had given me when she had come to visit last month. I tossed the quarter on the wooden counter where it spun until Morey's grubby, ink stained hands quickly grabbed it up and carefully placed it into the metal cashbox. Then he reluctantly handed her over.

Her golden hair fell below her waist. Her shiny blue eyes were bluer than the sky. Her ruby lips were as red as a rosebud. The most enchanting part of the whole picture was the little lacy thing she was wearing for it was little and she wasn't even really wearing it. She held it up over her chest and the curves of her bosom were peaking out above it. It was tantalizing, to be sure, and she revealed very little but it was a delightful little peek a boo picture anyway.

I quickly tucked the precious confection into my pocket before Boo could come back and see what I was up to. But I licked my lips in anticipation for I knew that the Girl with the Golden Hair was mine now, safely waiting in my pocket until I had time for her.

A few moments later, Boo waddled back up to the front of the store, one chubby hand holding onto a pair of pale pink hair ribbons. She held them out for my inspection and all I could think about was seeing them threaded through those golden tresses hidden away in my pocket.

"They sure are pretty, Boo", I choked out, emotion welling up from deep inside of me, making my throat raw and nearly strangling my heart. For a moment, I even thought I might suddenly burst, like an erupting volcano. Boo looked at me kind of funny, probably wondering what I was up to, but I just turned and walked out of the store, no cares in the world, without even saying my goodbyes to Old Morey or his wife. Boo came tumbling out of there a few moments later. She skipped down the steps and came after me like a dog does a jack rabbit.

"What's come over you, Henry?" she panted.

"Me, Boo?" I asked innocently with nonexistent nonchalance while my heart hammered against my ribcage. "Why, Boo, there ain't a thing wrong with me. Why do you ask?"

"Cause you was acting real strange at Morey's, that's why. You didn't even say a "how do you do" before you tore out of there like a horse in a hayfield. Darn right unneighborly of you, Henry Joe," Boo stated. "Damn right unneighborly."

I reached over and boxed Boo's ears for swearing and she left out a muffled yelp of pain.

"And you, Miss Boo-Renee Appleblossom Parker, you know better than to be cussing like some farmhand!"

"Henry, you know I hate it when you call me that!"

"What?" I asked with sly innocence, "Boo-Renee or Appleblossom?"

"Both!" Boo agitatedly stamped her feet.

"Well, Boo-Reneeis your name."

"But Appleblossom ain't!"

"All right, Miss Boo-Renee Blossom Parker, are you satisfied now?"

"Actually, I am not."

Boo had been having troubles because of her name ever since her mama had pegged her Beaureney Blossom the day she was born. Since Mrs. Parker already had a son named Beau, she nicknamed her daughter Boo. In most of her days so far, Boo hadn't had a peaceful day without someone calling her Boo-Renee Appleblossom. I was the main instigator. I started calling her that when we were around seven years of age and it soon got around our little town so that before either of us realized it, just about every kid in town was calling her by that unappealing moniker. Boo held it against me to this day.

"It's your entire fault that people call me that and you know it. I detest that name and I surely do wish that some of the people in this town had shorter memories."

Hearing this argument for about the hundredth time wasn't really what I wanted to do right now. What I wanted to do was sneak up in the hayloft of my pa's barn and get a good look at my Girl with the Golden Hair.

"Listen, Boo," I said as I peered into her angry eyes. "I've already told you about a hundred times that I'm sorry about that but there ain't much I can do about it at this late date. I swear sometimes that you've got the longest memory of anybody in these parts. If you didn't get so riled up every time somebody calls you Boo-Renee Appleblossom, then people would forget about that silly old nickname. Now, I've got chores to do and so do you so don't you think maybe we better be getting on home before our folks get sore?"

When I get a full head of steam, it's hard to stop me so Boo knew I was getting kind of angry. She even looked a little guilty about the way she had been berating me as she turned her head away to gaze out towards where her pa's farm was located. "I guess you're right, Henry Joe, and I better be getting on back before Ma starts calling me. I'll be seeing you at school tomorrow, won't I, Henry?" Her eyes wee even pleading. I felt sorry for the little bugger.

I gave Boo one of my famous smiles and a light kiss on the cheek. "Now Boo, you know you're my best gal. Of course you'll see me tomorrow. Don't we always walk each other there?"

She gave me one of her own beguiling thankful smiles, the kind that melted the coldness that was starting to penetrate even my thick winter coat, and I noticed for the first time how pretty she was going to be when she was all grown up. Well, she wouldn't be as pretty as the girl in my pocket, but Boo would be a pretty girl for around these parts. There wasn't much in the way of beauty to pick from.

"Well, Henry," she sighed, low and seductive, reminding me once again that she was a young woman, "I guess I'll be seeing you."

Boo shoved her hands down into her pockets again and as she breathed the fine mist she exhaled circled her head, giving her a mystic quality. She formed her lips into a pretty pout and I noticed how red they really were, nearly as red as the Girl with the Golden Hair's lips. They looked just as soft and tempting and Boo held hers slightly parted, as if she was waiting for something. Before I realized what I was doing, my lips were on Boo's and theywere soft and sweet. It was almost as if I was kissing the girl in the picture. But I wasn't.

Her hands clenched into little balls, Boo pushed me away from her. I opened my eyes and hers were staring into mine accusingly. Her cheeks were stained with a rosy blush and her mouth formed a gentle "Oh!" of surprise. In a matter of moments, Boo fell from being a young woman back into being an embarrassed little girl. With one more startled "Oh!" Boo took off on swiftly moving feet towards the safe haven of her father's farm. I merely chuckled at my own temporary insanity, wondering why I had done it, before I headed towards my own home.

I shook the memory of my kiss with Boo out of the corners of my brain when I reached home and making sure I hadn't been noticed I slid silently up into the empty hay loft of the drafty barn. After snuggling down into the sweet smelling hay, I pulled the picture of the Girl with the Golden Hair out of my pocket. There she was, looking up at me with a promise in her sky blue eyes but all I could see in my mind were mossy green ones looking up at me with startled surprise. Instead of seeing rosy red lips, I saw a lighter pinker version that felt soft and sweet beneath my own. Rather than seeing the golden curls of a young man's goddess, I saw the wild unruly curls in mousy brown that framed the endearing face of my own little Boo. Oh sure, the Girl with the Golden Hair was just fine for dreaming about but sweet little mousy Boo was flesh and blood, someone I could kiss without dreaming and hold without being left with an empty feeling. Maybe I was growing up faster than my ma thought I was because the Girl with the Golden Hair fell forgotten from my hands as I turned on my back to dream about my own girl closer to home. And she was one worth holding on to.