The Girl I Knew Somewhere-a short story

The Girl I Knew Somewhere


It wasn’t a real sugarcane field. I’m talking about the field that’s in the picture. It was merely a simulated sugar cane field that served as part of a museum exhibit. It was put together to teach children about the processes of harvesting sugar cane. We were there on this summer day in 1982 because my aunt had thought it would be something different and fun to do on a summer ’s day. The two boys standing on my right side are my first cousins and the girl on the left is Kim. This is the only photo I have of Kim and the only tangible proof I have of that magical summer we spent together some twenty six years ago, the summer when I first learned about love. I have the photo in my hand now. Her plane is due to land in the next few moments and when we see each other for the first time in over a quarter of a century, I’ll be anxious to know what she remembers about that day.
As I sit here anticipating our reunion, my mind keeps drifting back to that earlier time. It was in the spring of 1982 when my parents were first approached with the idea of having me come to stay with my aunt and uncle at their house in northern Virginia for a period of six weeks during the coming summer. My mother’s sister and brother in law and their two boys were in their fifth year of living in this Washington DC area suburb and they had extended the invitation for me to come and stay with them. They had moved here in 1977 because my uncle had received a promotion in his job. Now he was working at the Pentagon in Washington.
My mother had had no problem with the idea of my going to stay with my aunt and uncle. She was the more open minded of the two when it came to my parents. It was my father who had the problem and this came as no surprise. At first he had said he would have to think about it but I knew it was not in my father’s personality to be open to such a suggestion. My father had never done anything of this sort when he had been growing up and, although he would never admit it, he had lived somewhat of a sheltered life as a child. He had always lived in the same small town his whole life, the town I had grown up in, and all of his relatives had lived within driving distance of his childhood home. As an adult, he had clung to the old fashioned notion that families lost something when they moved away to pursue a career and it was evident to me even as a child that he held more than a little contempt for those who moved away from their roots and tried to start new lives.
It came as quite a surprise when, after several weeks, my father made the announcement that not only would he would allow me to spend the summer with my aunt and uncle but he would also send me with fifty dollars in spending money. It was the most cash I had come personally been in contact with during my first eleven years.
My parents made the trip up to Northern Virginia with my sisters and I in tow. The plan was that my family would stay for a week and then I would remain with my aunt and uncle for the next six weeks.
I had always thought saying goodbye to my family would prove difficult but the truth was that it went much easier than I ever could have imagined. It wasn’t that I didn’t love my family or that I wouldn’t miss them. I was just so preoccupied with the realm of possibilities the summer might bring that I was too excited to think about the sadness of separation.
Among the many possibilities that were swirling in my brain during that time, none was more remote than falling in love. I would be turning twelve years old in less than two months and, with the exception of several disappointing elementary school crushes my experience with members of the opposite sex was limited. Unbeknownst to me, this was all about to change as fate had other plans for me.
During those dog days of summer in early June, our mornings were spent at the local swimming pool. It was a private pool, but luckily my aunt and uncle had a membership and we could come and go as we liked. My cousin Stewart usually took swimming lessons in the early morning and after the swimming lessons were finished, the pool was open to anyone who was a member and chose to swim.
Stewart was three years younger than me. His older brother Alex, who was the same age as myself, often teased him about a girl he had a crush on. Her name was Kim. Kim’s mother brought her and her brother Dustin to the pool practically every day. As it turned out, Kim’s mother and father were also close friends with my aunt and uncle so it was no surprise that Kim’s mother and my aunt usually spent their time talking together while all of the kids frolicked in the pool.
As an eleven year old boy, I was very insecure. I found it hard to talk to girls without trying to put on some act that would make a lasting impression on them. My ‘act’ during the summer of 1982 was being funny. I had developed a knack for doing spot on impressions of the current president and many of the ex presidents. I took this to the next level and began doing impressions of family members, most notably my younger cousin, Stewart. When I started doing the impression of Stewart, it wasn’t that I was trying to impress Kim but that’s what eventually happened. Kim confided later on that she didn’t really like me until she realized how funny I was. Maybe I was on to something, I thought.
As the summer rolled on, Kim and I saw each other more and more. As we started spending increasing amounts of time together, it became evident to both us that there was something special between us. It wasn’t something that we discussed and we didn’t have to. We just knew.

Everything has to end and I knew that my time in Virginia was finite as well. I was to leave on a Saturday morning in early August with my aunt and uncle driving me back home and staying for a visit at our home. I knew that it might be a long time before I saw Kim again, if ever. Kim and her family were temporarily living in a condo while their new house was being built. Their condo was only a mile from my cousin’s house. I made the trek on foot on a Thursday afternoon to say my goodbyes with a sizeable lump in my throat. We exchanged addresses and phone numbers and I presented her with a coffee mug that was inscribed with her name. She in turn presented me with a plastic bag containing decals that spelled out my name, which could be ironed onto a t shirt. I never put them onto a shirt. I have them to this day in the same plastic bag that she put them in.
The journey back home was the most painful thing I had ever experienced up until that time. It was a constant struggle to choke back the tears and keep my voice from cracking when I spoke. I had to be careful because I knew that my cousins would laugh if they saw me cry. I couldn’t let anyone know how much I was hurting. Everywhere I looked I saw something that reminded me of Kim, our time together, and the closeness we had shared. The sense of loss was incredibly profound. It was then that I realized what love really is and how much I had loved this girl that had come into my life.
We wrote to each other for the better part of the next year and then, for some unknown reason, I stopped responding. Maybe I just got lazy. I don’t really recall. All I know is that I just stopped writing but Kim was never far from my heart.
I had always fantasized that one day I would move to Virginia, reconnect with her, and marry her but that was just a school boy fantasy that I created to ease the pain. In reality, I married in my early twenties and found myself a divorced father of two by the time I had reached my early thirties. I quickly learned about the harsh realities of life.
Twenty five years to the month that I had received Kim’s last letter, I found myself on a business trip in northern Virginia. I took a trip to the old neighborhood where my aunt and uncle had long since moved on. The feelings and emotions all came rushing back as I saw sidewalks we had walked on and places we had been. I knew then and there that I had to find out what had happened to Kim.
While on my business trip I also visited my aunt and my uncle. The conversation eventually came around to the summer of 1982 and what a wonderful time it had been. It was then that my aunt told me that she had been surprised to find out Kim had never married. It seemed that Kim’s mom still sent postcards to my aunt and the last one had mentioned how Kim had broken off an engagement. My mind started reeling. I asked my aunt for Kim’s mother’s address and I wasted no time in getting in touch with Kim.
As it turned out, Kim remembered me fondly and we emailed back and forth for the next several years. It’s now been four years since we reconnected and now the fates have brought us back together again as I anxiously await her plane. So much water has passed under the bridge. The world was younger when we knew each other then and a lot more innocent. We were more innocent too. What will things be like for us now? I ask myself as I anxiously await her arrival. No one can say for sure but I can’t wait to find out.