Mary Lou

A Narrative Poem

Sometimes late at night when a fear grips my heart, I remember that summer of my sixteenth year when I lost my virginity and my ability to dream. Granny Garber had come to spend a few months with us and help mother with the cooking, baking, cleaning and washing. Mom was pregnant with Sara, my youngest sister, and confined to bed. I have always loved Granny Garber because she carried peppermint candy in the pockets of her aprons and was willing to share it whenever my mother was not looking. My dad thought Granny was half-cracked and only tolerated her craziness because she was kin. He stayed as far away from her as possible — hiding in the barn with the holsteins or walking the rows of corn. When I was younger, I had loved to sit by Granny and listen to her stories about the old days when the world was wilder and full of the unexpected. But that summer I cared little for her stories. The only thing on my mind was Mary Lou, Jacob Yordy’s middle daughter. We had begun dating that spring after my sixteenth birthday. I had broken up with Sally and was adrift in a sea of uncertainty and teenage angst. Mary Lou asked me to dance and when I looked into her dark brown eyes, I felt the hand of God on my back and I praised the Lord for all things young and beautiful. Dad and I were preparing for our annual trip to the Illinois State Fair that August. I have traveled to the fair with dad since I was eight years old. Mom had not wanted me to go because she said I was too young, but dad overruled her, saying that it was time his oldest son learned the ways of the world. I was in hog heaven. My father, you see, is a hog farmer. He raises grand champion hogs and has won blue ribbons at fairs all over the Midwest. I dreamed of growing up and being like my father. Everyone says I look like him down to my curly brown hair and big ears. My mind was not on the fair that summer of my sixteenth year and my father, I’m sure, sensed something was wrong. He never said anything, but it was the way he looked at me. As if he knew how my hormones were racing. My father has never talked to me about the birds and bees. I guess he assumed I would pick it up from being around farm animals. My friends and I had swapped stories and I had some vague idea of what I was supposed to do. I was hoping that Mary Lou would let me make love to her that summer. She had already allowed me to touch her breasts once behind our church after Sunday School. She and I were taking a walk through the cemetery, holding hands and trading kisses. She pulled me behind a large oak tree and began to explore my mouth with her tongue. She took my hand and put it inside her blouse. I could feel the top of her breast sticking out of her bra. I felt myself grow hard and I think Mary Lou felt it too, because she reached her hand down inside my suit pants. I came right then and there and was so embarrassed. Mary Lou smiled and gave me a big hug. “Do you love me?” She asked. And without thinking, I said, “Yes.” Granny probably knew better than anyone what was racing through my heart. She sat me down one day and told me a story I had never heard about two young lovers. The story touched my heart and helped me look at Mary Lou in a different light. Granny asked me if I understood why God made man and woman. I mouthed something about man needing a companion. And she told me that it was more than that. “True love,” she said, “bonds a man and a woman together for life. They are to help each other and protect each other.” I nodded as if I understood, though I didn’t. Sara was born three weeks before our trip to the fair. I thought dad would cancel our trip and from the sounds of their fight, I guess mom did too. Dad said he had to show his hogs if he hoped to get a high price for their sale. Mom finally gave in because Granny was there and would be bearing the brunt of the work. Mary Lou and I went to the barn dance the church held about a week before Dad and I were scheduled to leave for the fair. She had her license so her parents let her drive the family station wagon. Seems they trusted her a lot more than they should have. They believed someone as sweet as her could do no wrong. And it was in the back of that Chevy station wagon that I lost my virginity and so did Mary Lou. After making love, she asked if I wanted to run away to California. She had dreams of being in the movies. I told her the thought had never crossed my mind. I figured I’d grow up to be a farmer like my father and his father before him. I asked her if she wanted to be a farmer’s wife and she said no. Her heart was set on the lights of Hollywood. I asked her when she was leaving and she said before school started. Said she was going to hitchhike and find a job as a waitress while she waited to be discovered. Said she had saved up some cash working as a waitress at Eddie’s Diner. She claimed to have enough to pay the rent for a couple of months until she found a job. I asked if she was scared and she said a little, but she was hoping I’d come along and protect her. I said I’d have to think about it since it meant leaving my family. I wasn’t sure what my father would say. I knew he needed me to help out with the farming. I told her I would let her know after the state fair. We made love twice more that night and I’ve never forgotten the softness of her breasts or the warmth of her kisses. I never saw Mary Lou after that night. While we were at the fair, dad would call home every night. And Wednesday, the night before the big show, mom told dad that Mary Lou had been in a car accident and had been killed. Mom left it to dad to break the news. I’ll never forget the kindness he showed me that night. He sat me down on a bale of straw and told me that sometimes in life things happen that we don’t understand and may never understand. But God does have a plan for our lives. We need to keep our faith even in the most difficult of times. I cried when he said that she was dead. I couldn’t believe it. She had been so alive the last time I had seen her. I wondered if God was punishing us for what we did. I thought that maybe I was going to die also. I asked dad if God punished sinners and he said yes. Then I’m going to die I told him. He said that Jesus had died to free us from our sins and if we believed in Him, He would wash our sins away. I told my father what Mary Lou and I had done in the back of her father’s station wagon. He was quiet for what seemed like an eternity. I’ll never forget his words when he spoke. “I’m no preacher, son, but I know that Mary Lou did not die because you two made love. God is kinder then that. The accident is part of God’s larger plan. We may never know why she had to die. But one thing I know for certain. It was not your fault.” I have never forgotten those words. Even now all these years later after my father himself has passed on, I hold onto them in my darkest hours. I didn’t make it to California that summer. But I did go the summer after I graduated from high school. I told my father that I had to do it for Mary Lou. Somehow I still wanted to help her achieve her dream. I stayed out there for three years before I realized I couldn’t bring her back from the dead. When I arrived back home, mom and dad were waiting with open arms. In the years since her death, I have learned not to think of her, but sometimes late at night a chill will come into my heart and I dream of holding her in my arms and kissing her soft, sweet lips. May God have mercy on my soul.–›–œ

Copyright © 2020 by Harley King

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