A Moment In Time

A Moment in Time

By

Jamey O’Donnell

1973 was the year my heart was ripped out of my chest, leaving me to die a lonely death of wanting, yearning, a death of love unrequited, underneath the Japanese pear tree, down a red clay ribbon of a road that led to my discontent.

Ms. Stone was the new English teacher, subbing for Mrs. Rodgers, who would be out of school for the remainder of the year on maternity leave. I never really noticed Mrs. Rodgers, as I didn’t any of my other teachers, but when Ms. Stone walked in the classroom that Wednesday morning in late May, I noticed things about me that I never noticed before, such as my posture, and my smile, and it was because I noticed her.

At first glance, she almost took my breath away with her beauty. She was stunningly gorgeous. Her hair was shoulder length and platinum blond, her lips full and inviting, and her bosom heaved when she spoke passionately about a book we were reading together in class, capturing the attention of all the boys and all the jealousies of the girls.

For the first week after her arrival, I tried to work up the courage to approach her and speak to her but was having a hard time thinking of an excuse to engage her. My grades in class up to that point had been at a B+ average, so my sudden lack of scholastic ability would have been too obvious. I had to come up with a natural issue that would make sense to her and capture her attention.

We were in the middle of reading Catcher in the Rye, so maybe I could approach her on the confusion I had surrounding Holden Caulfield?

After class, I put myself together as discreetly as possible, and approached her.

“Ms. Stone, can I have a moment? I asked.

“Certainly Reggie!” she replied.

She knew my name. She knew who I was.

“I was hoping you could make time for me to discuss the book we are reading. I have some questions I would like answered” I stated.

It was the way she was looking at me with those beautiful turquoise blue eyes.

“Really? What kind of questions?” she asked.

“Questions about Holden. Some of the things he thinks about and does don’t make sense to me.” I responded.

“Holden is a complicated fellow, that’s for sure. Can you be back here after school is out, say around 2:45?” Ms. Stone asked.

“I will be here. Thank you Ms. Stone.” I answered.

Now would come the hard part. I knew full well Holden Caulfield’s character and what made him tick, but I would have to play stupid and keep from staring at her adoringly all at the same time.

I arrived on time right to the second, 5 minutes after the last bell, and there she was waiting for me at her desk, with a chair at the side of her desk for me.

We talked about the book for about an hour, and I think I played it off pretty well, and managed not to get caught staring, and then the conversation shifted.

She asked me to tell her about myself, asked if I had a girlfriend, what I wanted to be in life, stuff like that, and then she began to tell me about herself.

She was recently divorced, in her late 20’s, and recently moved to Southern California from Cleveland, Ohio.

She was looking to get a fresh start and was looking forward to settling in somewhere and planting some roots, and she was hoping it would be where she was now, in the Riverside area.

Then she did something very curious.

She reached over and put her hand on mine, as if we were more intimate than I had imagined, and to be honest, I almost came in my pants.

She told me she really enjoyed our conversation and looked forward to our next one, which meant I would have to come up with another excuse for a meeting.

She must have noticed the erection showing through my pants as I got up to leave the room after saying my goodbyes, and if she did, she played it off perfectly and never said a word.

I remember thinking to myself that my imagination must be running away with me, because it felt to me like she was interested more in me than just as a student, and I was exhilarated beyond words.

About a week later, she clandestinely gave me a note, asking me if I could meet her for lunch that Saturday at Fairmount Park. After agreeing, she gave me directions to a part of the park off the beaten path, down a red clay ribbon of a road that led to a picnic table underneath a Japanese pear tree.

Saturday came and I drove my V.W. bug right to the place she told me to park, and I proceeded up the red clay pathway that led to a very secluded part of the park, with a picnic table under a pear tree, just as she had described.

And there she was, sitting at the table with a picnic basket, looking different than I had seen her before, wearing a halter top with cut off jeans shorts, showing off her legs and ass, not looking at all like a teacher meeting with a student, but instead like a woman meeting her boyfriend.

I think I even knew before I got there that this had the makings of something entirely different than anything out of my high school syllabus, but I was eager and hungry to find out what Ms. Stone had in mind for me.

We ate chicken salad sandwiches with potato salad, and she had 3 chilled bottles of Boone’s Farm Strawberry Hill, and we drank all 3 of them. She made me promise not to tell a soul about the lunch, and especially about the wine, of which I happily agreed.

We talked about the school, politics, our families, and eventually the subject of love made its way across our horizon.

She had been unlucky in love, and her last marriage was evidence of it.

Ms. Stone had closer to 2 bottles of the wine, where I barely finished one, and she was on her way to becoming hammered, because I was pretty well lit myself.

She wanted me to call her Julie, which I did, and she became much looser as the afternoon wore on, offering lots of information about herself that she wouldn’t have normally, and treated me as if we had known each other for much longer than we did.

She sat closer and closer to me, and suddenly out of the blue, she leaned over and kissed me on my cheek, then turned my face toward hers, and planted a big wet kiss on my mouth, sticking her tongue down my 16-year-old throat, and this time I did come in my pants.

We sat there at that picnic table all afternoon and she taught me how to kiss in ways I had never kissed a girl before.

I fell head over heels in love with Ms. Julie Stone that afternoon, and I would never be the same again. We did not make love, but I knew that would be right around the corner, and I hoped that my being a virgin would not turn her off.

This beautiful woman picked me of all people, and I could not wrap my head around my good fortune.

After the wine had worn off, we each got into our cars and drove home, and I spent the rest of that weekend fantasizing my life with her, and I could only hope that she felt about me the way that I felt about her.

I never stopped to consider that what she had done was illegal and it could ruin her life, so I didn’t see anything wrong with fantasizing about marrying her and her having my babies. I didn’t see any problem with that, because I was hopelessly in love and knew that I wanted to be with her forever.

Monday would be different than any Monday I had ever gone to school before, and I didn’t know exactly how I should act around her.

Should I be cool and play it off as if nothing significant had happened?

Should I follow her lead?

What about in class?

These were questions racing through my mind, and as Monday morning got closer, I became more nervous. I decided my best play would be to act as if nothing had happened, and wait for her next cue, which would probably be meeting at her home.

As I walked into my English class that Monday, I was shocked to see another substitute teacher sitting where Julie was supposed to be.

She was not there, with no announcement about her absence.

She must be sick, and surely she would return the next day, but she was absent again on Tuesday.

There were two weeks left of school before summer vacation, and I was crushed to hear the news.

The new substitute teacher announced she would be finishing up the school year, and Ms. Stone would not be returning.

At the sound of those words, my whole world caved in on me, and I panicked.

How would I ever see her again? I had no idea where she lived. How could I find her?

How could she do this to me after Saturday in the park?

Why is she not coming back?

Did someone find out? Did she get in trouble? What is going on?

The truth was that Julie Stone, in a momentary lapse of judgment, crossed over a line that could have taken her freedom and ended her career, so she made a pre-emptive strike and quit her substitute position, leaving for greener pastures, and leaving me high and dry with a broken teenage heart.

In my heart of hearts, after the dust settled, I knew it couldn’t end any other way.

As much as my heart ached for her, I knew there was no future in a relationship for either one of us. Looking back on those sweet, tender, late spring days, I will always remember the woman that introduced me to the beginning stages of manhood.

I will always love Julie Stone for the gift of love she gave to me.

I hope she has found happiness wherever she landed, because I will never be able to repay her for the gift she had given me.