PIT #34: A New Member
Points In Time
Elysium Fields
Topanga Canyon, California
Sunday June 7, 1986
2:55 p.m.
Marsha’s eyes half closed in question: How’s he know this person good enough to kiss, in public. Forgetting they were in a nudest park where every thing was ‘in public’. Then remembering that he had been here three times before talking her into coming.
“Hello, Lita…” not too sincerely spoken“... nice to meet...”
Shocked when Lita — bussing it lightly, pressing her cheek to hers. “You’ve got a ‘really’ good guy there, you know?”
Said quickly...“If you say so!” ...Coming across as a rather snotty comment.
“Lita…” Mitchell asked “...you here aloe?”
Forming an instant dislike for Marsha.
“Yes, actually I am.”
“Lita, ome on! Join us!”
“Thank you.” Noting the sour look on Marsha’s face. “I’d ‘love’ to!”
Coming from the pool Mitchell alongside Lita to his left, Sandy to his right, Marsha, on the outside, realized, I’m on the outside.
Approaching the blankets…
“Hey, guys, I want you to meet an old friend of mine.”
“Hi! I’m Morgan and you look like a lady that could use a cup of wine.”
“A ‘cup’ of wine?”
Reaching into the ice chest...“Yeah, easier to keep upright on a blanket.” Morgan hoisted the gallon bottle.
“Good thinking… Good to know you, Morgan.”
“And this is ken…”
Jesus, Ken thought she’s beautiful! “Hi, Lita!” Looking at her long breasts and black nipples. Lita’s ‘difference’ from all other women at the field causing an immediate erection; that he attempted to hide beneath a paper napkin that didn’t quite do the job.
This reaction partially the reason she’s at Elysium. Smiling at his bumbling attempt at some sort of modesty. “Hi, Ken!”
“And this is Evie..”
Giving a slight waving motion, “Welcome!” Evie held her hand forward in greeting.
“Janice…” Mitchell said “...meet Lita.”
Realizing. “Oh, my God! “ Softening her tone. “You’re here! I’ve been dying to meet you!”
“Glad to meet you, too, Lita! Here...” patting a spot before her and Evie. “...sit, why don’t you.”
Squatting and sitting cross-legged before Janice and Evie whom were sitting closely together.
“I heard some women talking and was dying to meet this lady with so much…”
On his side, lying belly to hip alongside Lita.. “ ‘hutzpah’ ” Mitchell said.
“Yeah… ‘hutzpah’!” Lita repeated as , “Thank’s” accepting the cup of wine from Morgan and taking a sip, “Yuck!”
“But it keeps the mosquitoes away.”
Laughing. “We don’t have any mosquitoes.”
“See!”
“Mitch said you two were old friends?”
“Well, not ‘really’ old friends…”
“Nothing’s impossible, Lita. Marsha and me hadn't seen each other in thirty-three years and we ran into each other here, of all places, fifteen hundred miles from before.”
“Mitch…” putting her hand onto his shoulder, as he placed his hand flat upon her lower… actually upon her upper ass and began a gentle rubbing motion, that Lita found to be most pleasant…
That Marsha found to be most annoying.
“Lita reminded me of someone else…” ‘
“ ‘No’, Mitch ‘thought’ I was someone else.”
“ He thought you were ‘someone else’ ?” Janice said, asking, “Where you from, Lita?”
“Handcock Park.”
“He thought you were someone he knew from Handcock Park?”
“No, he didn’t think I was ‘from’ Handcock Park….
“I thought she was a black girl…”
“With big tits!” Lita said.
“Well, yeah, she did have big tits but she was… oh, possibly thirteen and I was about sixteen then.”
“Why would you know a thirteen year old black girl with big tits?” Marsha asked.
“It was on the west side, before we moved…”
In an accusatory tone. “ ‘White flight’?”
Hesitantly. “Yeah, Lita, I guess… Anyway, these black kids were playing softball in the ally and they asked me to ‘come on down’ and play with them.”
“ ‘You’…” Marsha asked sarcastically “... were playing softball, with ‘anyone’.”
“Yeah, I used to do stuff like that when I was a kid. Anyway one of the kids, a ‘really’ big kid by the name of, uh, ‘Junior Johnson’ had this ‘really’ beautiful…”
Said as an accusation. “Thirteen year old?”
Resenting Marsha’s tone. “I think she was abut thirteen but maybe even twelve and she was absolutely beautiful and her name was… Junior called her ‘lousey’…”
“ ‘Louise’?”
Becoming irradiated by the interruptions. “Yeah, Marsha!. And when I met Lita…”
“You thought I was…”
“Yeah, I thought you were Louise from Chicago….”
“All big and grown up… But I’m not Louise from Chicago, I’m Lita from Handcock Park.”
Noting the ebony skin tone of Lita not too much darker than that of his lost Mae. “All big and grown up.” Morgan, appreciatively said.
Moving my hand further downward… “I’ll say!” ...holding the warm, soft flesh of Lita’s ass in the palm of my hand, as noting Marsha— who was sitting to the right of Lita, twisting her neck to see Lita’s back. Actually to see where my hand was on Lita’s back. But I no longer cared what Marsha she saw or what she thought because Lita’s ass felt ‘so’ nice and fit ‘so’ well!
In ‘absolute’ truth I no longer cared!
In ‘absolute’ truth I had loved Marsha!
I had loved Marsha from the time we first met as kids in 1949. I loved Marsha when we had lost then found each other again in 1955. I loved Marsha throughout our the thirty-one years of marriage. I had loved Marsha throughout thirty-one years of hateful times that I now know were, in many cases ‘engineered’ by my wife due to her hatred of me…
Well, I did love Marsha throughout the years excluding the year from from December of 1962 to November of 1963 when I loved Elizabeth Herzon.
Now, in truth...
In absolute truth ‘I no longer care’!
Lita Warner was born and raised in wealthy ‘old money’ ‘Handcoock Park’ which is located in the ‘Wilshire’ district in the City of Los Angeles.
Lita’s parents , both college professors thought it best to prepare their beautiful daughter for the rigours of the ‘real’ world.
To prepare their daughter for the rigours of ‘real’ life so had opted to prepare her for life’s difficulties by allowing her to receive a ‘public school’ education until the time of college.
Coincidentally the Handcock Park area— coincidentally Handcock Park was located in one of the City of Los Angeles’ most highly accredited public school systems.
Being one of ‘very’ few Negro children attending ‘grade school’, Lita Warner decided to be a ‘tough cookie’, so after two bloody noses and one darkly bruised jaw accredited to this small, black child it was decided by all that this small, black girl had very hard fists, so…
Quickly adopted by all the black kids and a number of white kids, having ‘many’ friends Lita ‘enjoyably’ got through grade school. In ‘high School’…
In High School it took but one punch into the fat belly… Or more the likely the one punch landed more so into the testicle area, Lita Warner — of course, whether white or black, one of the most beautiful girls in school, Lita truly enjoyed the comradely of High School while learning of the ‘rigours of life’ as she was to know it… Except for one rigour Lita could ‘never’ expect.
3:12 p.m.
Wiggling her coffee cup, in the groups , ‘more wine,please’ signal to Morgan. “What do you do?”
“ ‘Do’, Sandy?”
“You work?”
“Oh, ‘sure’. I’m a teacher.”
“A ‘teacher’! Really.”
“Yes. ‘Fourth and fifth grades ‘in a public school in Sherman Oaks.”
Attempting to get more information from this ‘shvartzer’ that her husband seems to be ‘so’ interested in. “Your husband, he a teacher also?”
Sitting up, “Hey, wait a minute!…” looking at and jabbing his finger in direction of Marsha;s chest “...whatever happened to our ‘privacy’ rules?”
“No…” placing her hand high up on Mitchell’s thigh, her thumb ‘accidentally’ — as a show to, and in defiance of Marsha, Lita’s thumb ‘accidentally’ touching Mitchell’s penis “...it’s okay. I don’t mind..”
The group catching the audacity in Marsha’s tone and the belligerence in Lita’s reply…
“Yes, Henry…” May as well get it all out. “...my soon to be ‘ex’ husband is a high school teacher in ‘Watts’.”
“Tough area, ‘Watts’.!”
“Yeah, Ken, it is. But He’s a big guy and is able to handle it.”
Lita’s thumb involuntarily caressing Mitchell’s penis.
That to Lita ‘might’ involuntarily be caressing Mitchell’s penis, but to Mitchell and the entire group, involuntary or not Mitchell’s ‘lower’ brain awakens.
Looking at him… Looking at ‘it’. At the moment wanting nothing more than to sense it filling her mouth. Then to draw it to conclusion…
“Not compering myself to you…” her eyes going to Janice’s chest “… in a way… in a ‘very’ minor way, I think I’m here…” making an overhead encircling motion with her hand… Lita’s other hand “...for somewhat the same reason as you, Janice.”
Having no idea what that reason might be. “How’s that?” Mitchell asked.
“ ‘Henry’, my soon to be ex-husband wants a divorce because he doesn’t think I’m black enough.”
Next PIT #35: Black Enough
