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by Arnold De Villa
February 1, 2013
Summer is usually a season when extraordinary youthful things take place. But with this tardy dash of cold spell, it seems that thoughts of warmer times cannot but bring the poignant memories of youthful days, our first romance, the awkward kiss, those frantic tides of hormonal imbalance that brought us the euphoria of naïve decisions and silly spells; those sweet enchanting moments we thought would never end.
Louise was at the last phase of her teen years when a band of students frolicked into the village where she lived. Bernard, Josh and Carl were simply lost. They ran out of gas as they drove from a neighboring town where they went to College. The village of “Rendezvous” was having a festivity in honor of their Saint. During those times, processions, fairs, and other sorts of fanfare were part of a religious tradition entwined with a folksy culture. It was a time when strangers met in a carefree age of youthful thoughts that are as yet immune from threats of future worries. Louise, Gracielle and Eve: three dainty lasses bantering about their silly tales. Bernard, Josh and Carl were the more matured lads who, through books and some experience, seem to be a little bit ahead in savvy and in reason.
Three girls, three guys, and a quaint, little village in a warm summer day; the elements of an innocent dream any one of us could imagine. Perhaps you were Louise or maybe Bernard, or maybe Eve. You could have been Carl or Gracielle or even Josh. Their paths eventually met through a smile, a sweet chat, and an unexpected summer path.
First were the glances, the sighs, and then the chemical delights of hidden desires. The shy furtive glimpses matched with a naughty stare. From a simple look to a touch of a hand, to the closeness of breaths, until an intimate space is trapped in another space where strangers melt into the daring unknown and strangers cease in time. Bernard with Louise, Carl with Gracielle and Josh with Eve.
The lurid night seemed long. The darkness became enchanting. Louise, the youngest of them all had the greatest dreams. She hoped for a future unlike the one she knew in the orphanage where she grew. At the age of 19, she was on her own, without parent or sibling, renting a small cottage attached to the tavern where she worked. Bernard, at 25, was the eldest among the lads, whose father was a landlord to so many peasants.
“Look at the stars, Bernard”, Louise remarked. “Would it not be nice for their brilliance to land on my finger after I march the aisle where you would wait for me?” Bernard responded: “And so it should be Louise after the sweetness of this evening is sealed in our thoughts; after my embrace warms your cold skin, and after we cuddle in dreams with glimmers we shall keep alive”.
And so with those words the evening closed, a phase of youth whose faith believes that youth is endless. And so it seems……
Part IV: On Envy and Cruelty
Louise has long left the little village, the memories of which brought her bitter-sweet reminiscences of an incorrigible past. In a factory where she now works, old angry ladies surround her. They whine, they bicker, and they fret and complain. They wanted wages without work, benefits without sweat. And they get more irate when others work harder, because good workers make them look bad. Louise minded her own business, buried herself in work, just so she would not weep.
Miles away from where she is, her little daughter Lynette, is under the custody of a distant family. She just received a letter from them informing her that Lynette is sick, and that she will have to see the doctor soon. For that, they needed money. Louise just paid her rent. Her next wage will not arrive until next week. While she worried about Lynette and how she might possibly ask for an advanced pay, she worked even harder and faster in the assembly line she was assigned to. In so doing, the letter slipped off from her pocket and fell on the ground. Gruella, the head worker, also the one whose gall is filled with bitterness and envy, saw the letter on the ground. She saw it falling off from Louise. Instead of giving it back to her, she read the note in public.
“Give that back to me, Louise said”. Gruella read, “We are so sorry that Lynette is not feeling well. Your daughter is not fit to see you at this time. Please send more money so that we can have something to pay the doctor when he arrives”. And then Gruella responded at the top of her lungs, “What is this Louise? What have you been hiding? You have a daughter? Where is the father? Did you not say that always lived alone?”
Louise tried to grab the letter back from Gruella, but at that point it was too late. “Ladies, ladies, please settle down. I am the mayor of this town. This is a business and not a circus”. And then he faced the foreman, “please take care of this with much patience”. “Yes”, Sir Jim, the foreman said.
And with that Jim left the scene. “So Louise, after all these years of great pretense, we now know who you are and what your secret is”.
“I was young”, Mr. Foreman. “He left me alone to take care of her”.
“That is too late now, Louise. You know you will have to go. Our patron, the mayor, has a reputation to keep”.
“Please, Mr. Foreman”, Louise appealed. “I have done nothing wrong. I have worked hard without complaints and without qualms. My daughter needs me. You cannot let me go.”
The foreman was deaf to her pleas. He grabbed Louise by the arm and dragged her to the door. “Go back to the streets, Louise. Go back to the streets”.
To be continued in next FilAm MegaScene issue.