Ellen
By norman_woodrow-crockett
- 467 reads
I had my first kiss when I was 12. We started late in the 1950's!
Her name was Ellen Humphries and she was the prettiest girl in the
whole of Lincolnshire. She had this amazing red-gold hair. I was
captivated by it. Most of the time she had it tied back in a ponytail,
and I really liked it like that. Sometimes though, sometimes she wore
it down loose, and I loved it like that. It reached to just above her
shoulders and moved gently in the opposite direction to the rest of her
head, like a counterweight. I loved it most though when the wind blew.
The wind would get hold of that hair and whip it about in a frenzy of
red-gold mist. When the wind blew she was suddenly a lioness, proud and
defiant, her mane streaking out behind her. It was incredible. I've
never been one to be stuck for words, but whenever Ellen was a lioness
I was just plain dumbstruck. I couldn't have spoken to save my life. My
head swam, the blood pounded in my ears, my eyes bulged, my hands
sweated? it sounds so cliched but that's how it was. She took away my
power to do anything, even breath. I've been in love a few times since
then, and I've been in lust even more times, but I don't think I've
ever been as completely and utterly lost as I was as a kid, staring at
Ellen Humphries in the wind. Even now, 40 odd years later, just the
memory of it's enough to make me shiver.
Ellen lived in Addlestone Road, which was about two roads away from my
own house in Queen Street. Now I've told you that you're probably
thinking I'm going to go on about how we grew up together and all that
type of trite, but to tell you the truth I never really noticed her
until I was 11 or so. Before then we sometimes passed each other in the
street or in the corner shop, but that was about the extent of our
relationship. She was just another kid who lived around the corner.
When I was 11 though, as I said, she was suddenly more. All of a sudden
I found myself walking the long way to places I didn't want to go
anyway, just on the off chance that I could walk past her. If I saw her
it made my day. If I didn't see her I was desolate. It all seems very
amusing now but at the time it was deadly serious.
Just after my twelfth birthday I got to kiss her. Just like that. I
didn't come down again for weeks. It was a Wednesday afternoon after
school. I was on one of my long walks and had just reached the second
bend on the Woodsman's Track, the footpath that ran through a small
copse about half a mile from home. I was walking along, dreaming my
dreams, and suddenly she was there in front of me. I stopped dead,
mentally and physically. It was a narrow track and there wasn't room
for us to walk past each other without one of us stepping into the
bushes. She stood there on the track, a little half smile on her face,
waiting for me to move aside for a lady. I wanted to do just that but
my feet were glued to the ground. Then, wonders of wonders, she spoke,
and my face instantly went red as tomatoes.
"You're Norman aren't you?
I didn't reply. I couldn't reply. In my daydreams I'd explained to her
the endless wonders of the universe, the sparkling gemstones that were
her eyes? but now she was really there I couldn't even tell her my
name. I went even redder. She laughed delightedly.
"Oh it's true! It's true! Doris said you were struck down with me and
she was right!"
It's one of those weird truths that, however it works as adults, the
girl always has the upper hand when it comes to young-love. They just
seem to deal with it a lot better. We boys stammer and blush but the
girls just see their power and go for it. They have this delightfully
malicious love of rubbing our noses in it. And for some reason the boys
just submit. Ellen knew I liked her and instantly seized on it. I knew
I liked her and just wanted to melt into the ground. She took a step
towards me, that half smile still on her face.
"What's up boy - cat got your tongue?"
She took another step closer. She was within arm's length now and my
heart stopped dead. There was a bit of leaf stuck to her left shoe,
just below the buckle. I could smell her soap. I still wasn't
breathing. Abruptly her hand extended telescopically towards me and she
raised my chin with her middle finger. Our eyes met. Hers were
thoughtful and calculating.
"You know Norman, you ARE quite handsome. It's a pity you can't
talk."
I tried. Dear God did I try. I must have looked like a malfunctioning
lift, my mouth opened and shut so many times. But nothing came out.
Then she kicked me in the shin.
"Ow!"
"So you can talk!" A grin. She was still holding up my chin. Now her
finger worked it's way up my face and traced my bottom lip. Her eyes
were thoughtful again and she spoke almost to herself. "Yes. You are
quite handsome aren't you."
I was coming back into myself a bit now. I guess the shock was wearing
off. And the pain in my shin more than likely helped too. Abruptly she
seemed to make a decision. And all of a sudden she seemed a little
nervous too. Or maybe she had been all along but I hadn't been able to
notice.
"Would you like to kiss me Norman?"
And in that strange moment of disbelief, in that moment where I should
have dropped dead on the spot nevermind just being struck dumb, in that
moment I managed to speak. My voice was dry and crackly but I
spoke.
"Yes." I croaked.
Then she pulled my head down and leant towards me. I could see the
moisture on her lips. I could smell her breath. It was unreal. Surely
this was all going to turn out to be a joke. I couldn't really be about
to kiss a girl. It couldn't really be happening. That moment never
ended. But then it did, and all of a sudden I could taste her. I moved
my mouth gingerly on hers and felt her respond. I moved it again. She
tasted of apple. I was completely lost in the moment and yet at the
same time my mind was going into overdrive. Was this proper kissing?
Was I doing it right? How would I know when it was time to stop? I
logged my first experience of that scent that women's skin has, that
one you always forget until the next time you're close to them. Like
sweat but not sweat. Incredible, mindblowing. I noted the warmth that
came off her, the softness of her lips. And all the time our mouths
moved together like magnets. Then it was over. We drew away in perfect
synchronicity. And for a moment just stood there again, silent. She ran
her fingers over her mouth. Her superiority was gone now and she looked
flushed and pleased.
"Thank you Norman."
"Was it ok?" Not exactly a macho, man of the world question but I was
only 12 and still taken aback by what had happened.
"It was lovely." She smiled. "It was my first kiss too!"
"How di-" I stopped as she grinned. I realised it had been pretty
obvious.
"I'll see you later Norman."
And with that she turned around and went back up the path the way she
had come. I guess the whole episode took less than five minutes, but it
had seemed a lot longer. Home was a thousand miles away. I touched my
own lips wonderingly. They still tingled. I stood there for a minute or
two, not doing anything except being me. Then I turned round and went
home.
So that's the story of my first kiss. It's bought back some powerful
memories for me I can tell you! When I wrote that last paragraph I
touched my lips again and found that they were actually tingling, just
like they did 40 years ago. Incredible. I guess you want to know what
happened next between me and Ellen, but I'm not going to tell you.
There isn't a whole lot to tell, truth be told, and what there is
belongs under a different heading than 'My First Kiss' so I'll let it
slide. And anyway, I want to live my first-kiss memory for a while
before writing about other ones. That's one of the pleasures of writing
your own history, I've found. It's like running your own private cinema
- you just sit down, turn on the spool and get taken along for the
ride. So if you'll excuse me I'm going to settle down with some popcorn
- this current film is one of my favourites. The door is back there on
the left, try not to slam it as you leave. And ask that nice usher if
he'll bring me a lemonade when he's got a moment. And come back soon
won't you? There's plenty more films to come at the Woodrow-Crockett
Odeon and you're always welcome. I'll see you soon?
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