Maxine’s Heart

Head tilted back,

long strands of black hair blowing across her face,

attempting to hold her hair down,

Maxine watched the upward progression

of the snow-white sail.

Hoisted now, the breeze catching,

moving forward, picking up speed

the black schooner heeled to port.

“Oh, my God!”

Grasping my knee,  

about to bound to the high side.

Seeing Maxine’s fear,

the skipper eased the “main”   

spilling wind,

settling the boat  

onto a more even keel.

One of two other women aboard said,

 “Don’t worry, you’re safe.”

Then asked,

“This the first time you’ve been sailing?”

Stopping,

sitting again,

“Yes,” she said nervously,

looking from Iris to the frothy water

bubbling along-side the now slightly lower rail.

“Don’t worry, honey,” Iris said,

“this crew’s great,

and this ain’t even

what’ch’ya call a breeze.

Shit!” she went on,

“I was aboard once when we were

barrelin’ ‘cross the lake

when they hoisted the red flag and…”

 “Red flag?”

 “The hurricane warning.”

“Hurricane?

Chicago never gets hurricanes!

Do we?”

“No, not usually,” I answered.

 “But a red flag here could be the equivalent

 of a hurricane on the east coast.”

Still attempting to calm Maxine’s fear,

 “Yeah,” Iris continued,

“scared the livin’ shit outta me but we made it okay.”

Picking up speed, the boat passed the outer breakwater.

Now, at 7:53,

the sun was beginning to set.

Over Lake Michigan, to the west,

the sky was darkening.

“Look, Max.”

Turning,

looking westerly…

Speckled with fractured clouds,

to the west the sky was ablaze with color:

red, gold and purple.

Tinting the city’s skyscrapers,

the hues of the sunset reflected off their

windows in a panorama of sparkling pinpoint colors.

“My, God,”

 she said softly, reverently.

“it’s so beautiful!”

“Skipper,”

 I asked,

“okay to take the cushion forward?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

Slackening the sheet,

spilling the wind,

Riding on an even keel.

“I’ll keep this tack.”

Standing,

Taking hold of Maxine’s hands,

“Come on.”

“Where?”

Though the boat no longer heeled,

not happy about leaving the

comfort and safety of the cockpit,

“Do we have to?”

“Yes.”

Taking our cushion,

promising,

“I won’t let you fall overboard!”

I stepped from the cockpit to the deck.

Maxine hesitated,

then,

holding my hand tightly,

stepped up.

Leading her forward,

I lay the cushion facing the sunset.

Sitting with my back against the mast,

“Come on, honey,”

patting the space between my legs,

“sit.”

Alone…

Hidden by the rise of the cabin,

she sat with her back reclining against his chest.

Her head resting on his shoulder,

his cheek upon her cheek,

his arms about her waist,

their four clasped hands lay upon her lap.

Alone…

Quiet…

Quiet, and so…

But for the faint movement of water,

the slight crackling of sails,

the balmy silence of the gently palpating breeze…

and each other’s warm breath,

it was quiet…

Quiet and peaceful…

Peaceful…

So lovingly peaceful.

The first wispy shreds of a large bank

of broken clouds passed across the face

of the lowering sun causing silvery-gold

streamers of light to charge across the horizon.

As the body of splintered clouds crossed the orange orb,

the sky became bathed in a colossal kaleidoscope of hues:

orange, red, purple, blue and gray,

and all underlain with translucent, silvery-gold.

“Please, baby, don’t think I’m being corny,”

speaking softly, his mouth near her ear,

“but now is something I’ve prayed for all my life.

I’ve seen hundreds of beautiful sunsets

and…”

Hugging her tighter,

Maxine could feel the beat of his heart against her back.

“…sometimes the sunsets are so beautiful I thank God

for whatever beauty there is in my life,

but whenever that happened it made me lonely

and sometimes I felt like crying because I didn’t have

anyone to share the beauty with,

and…”

The emotion becoming too much,

his eyes watering,

his voice catching,

taking a few moments,

until,

emotively..

“I swear…  

“I swear that I’ve never seen a more beautiful sunset,

or that any girl has ever been as beautiful to me as you are now,

and I never thought I could love anyone as much as I love you.”

Feeling his warm breath on her ear,

hearing the heartfelt,

softly spoken words and his faltering voice,

experiencing a deluge of emotion;

knowing each other since children,

“ I’ve always loved you…”

her eyes overrunning, too,

turning her face to his,

looking into his eyes,

“I don’t think I’ve ever loved anyone but you.”

His hand held in hers,

moving both from her lap,

repositioning his right arm over her shoulder,

Maxine moved his hand to beneath her blouse,

to under her bra,

and held it, tightly,

palm down to her breast.

For the first time in her life feeling a hand

other than hers upon her bare breast,

the two kissed gently, with soft passion.

She still felt the beat of his heart upon her back.

He now felt the beat of her heart through the

fathomless softness of Maxine’s breast.

But,

as the urge to touch and hold her breast had been

all but overpowering at times,

oddly,

the feel of Maxine’s bare breast within the

palm of his hand

was…?

To the young man,

the feel of  this young woman’s breast,

at least at that moment,

was holy and the

 ‘thump, thump, thumping’

of the girl’s heart in the palm of his hand,

transcending even sex,

meant more to the young man than anything,

than anything in the past.

“I love you.”

©July 27, 2011 / Mark M. Lichterman