In Nicaragua, 1957, The Blonde Lady
Falling in love at 8 years old, it happens
As an eight-year-old in Nicaragua during the fifties, my parents had some visitors, ‘cousins’ from the U.S. A woman named Peggy and her shy little girl, who was around seven years old. We lived in Nicaragua where my folks ran a hotel in Managua. If the visitors included kids around my age, I was on duty whether or not I liked it. This made things just a little easier for my mom and dad.
My mom just introduced us to them as Fiona and her mom. I knew the mom’s name was Peggy but I’d die before calling her that. Being shy can work in strange ways.
Peggy, the mom, was like one of those brightly blonde dolls my sisters had in their room. Her blonde hair shimmered under the sun. I noticed she kept her hair long and hanging down with gentle waves. In the fifties my sisters always used Breck Shampoo and there was always a Breck girl on the bottle that looked wonderful. Peggy was a Breck girl, to me at least.
Once I noticed she wore bright red ladybug pins in her hair, which really stood out. It was during breakfast yesterday and she sat next to me and she smiled like a delicious lemon meringue and strawberries.
I couldn’t help it. I just reached up and gently touched one of her lady bugs. I think that’s when Peggy noticed with a big smile that when I was around her, I didn’t know what to say. My eyes were wide open and my bottom jaw dropped. It was also when I noticed that her scrawny kid from across the table looked at me funny. Suddenly I’d felt like if I’d been caught with the cookies in my hand. It didn’t matter to me I was lost in love with this gigantic Barbie Doll.
Peggy turned to me and smiled. Her teeth were like pearls, and I wanted to touch her lips. “Oh, Tommy, you are a treasure.” She laughed, and I wondered why. My adulation was surely splashed all over my pumpkin size face. Her daughter, I think her name was Fiona, stuck her tongue out at me, her eyes all scrunched up for effect. I sure didn’t care. All I could do was think about why Peggy called me ‘treasure’ and my head was full of pirates’ ships and gold and adventure.
For some reason I felt a little sad for her daughter. I don’t know why; she was like a little spunko like? Fiona, what a name. She would suddenly sneer at me, like thinking, ‘you think you’re so tough don’t you’, almost as if a threatening puma about getting ready to pounce from it’s hiding place on the rocky hill.
Once in the hotel pool I asked Fiona where her dad was. She suddenly looked down and said he might visit for Christmas.
I would return her clearly hurt, yet scornful glare, I wanted to say, “I’m a lot tougher than you are, that’s for sure”. Then she’d just sort of shrivel up or cringe like an earthworm when you poked it. I don’t know. Then I’d feel sad for her and her funny name. Sounded like a viola and piano all mixed up. What were her parents thinking?
I was swimming in the hotel pool, and Peggy and Fiona were hanging out there, too. My mom made me promise to play with Fiona, as she had no friends on their visit here to Managua. Most of the time, I was always out in the jungle on horseback with my slingshot. Or my pellet rifle hunting things and spotting monkeys. Sometimes one or two friends on horses came along with me. We’d climb tall mango trees and stuffing ourselves with the sweet fruit which was one of my favorite things to do. Green snakes used to hang around the high branches so I had to be careful. One bite and they said your feet will shrivel up and fall off.
Toad hunting was another favorite thing to do. I was better at it than all of my friends and there were warts all over my hands, which is normal if you held toads a lot. I didn’t care. Anyway, right now, around the pool was all about Fiona’s mom.
Peggy just sort of washed over me. She stole my heart; she smelled like an open, ripe mango or like tangerine peels. She did something to my breathing. Sure, for some reason I felt bad for Fiona.
In a couple of days we were going on a long road trip to Honduras. I think my parents just wanted to keep our visitors busy.
I swam over to the edge of the pool where Peggy was in the sun. I just wanted to see her. Peggy got closer to pool’s edge where I was splashing. She wanted to talk; I was all ears. Peggy got close to where I was holding onto the edge. She had a worried look as she kneeled down on the rough edge surface. A small freckle just above her bent knee caught my attention.
“Tommy, did you say you’ve been on that car trip before?” She asked this in a conspiratorial tone. This was even before I knew that word existed. Her beautiful eyes were so clearly full of concern; her eyes reminded me of some of the deepest blue cat’s eyes marbles I had. A part of me wanted to make it all better for her, but for the life of me and as an eight-year-old, I had no way of knowing what was bugging her! Much less did I have any way to bring her comfort. The divide was too great between us.
The bright, late afternoon sun shot beams across the pool surface. A gentle breeze blew past, high overhead chattering parrots flew by; I noticed sweat running down her neck onto her breasts and that made me feel funny. Her skin had goose bumps like someone had run a feather across her skin. An image that remains with me to this day.
“Oh sure, we go to Honduras like two times a year.” I assured her. She held my eyes such so that I couldn’t pull away from her gaze. A movie star, yes, that’s what I thought, or a giant doll. Her white shoulders were like ice cream cones.
“Oh, you have? So how is it Tommy? I’ve never been on a trip like that. Is it real dusty?” I couldn’t believe this was a concern, heck I’d eat dust for breakfast. She somehow folded her legs like pretzels under herself, like an armadillo in its shell. She made herself more comfortable on the hard floor. She added. “Is it really hot?” She gestured around her like if it would be this hot.
“Oh it is, but it’s fun. It’s pretty dusty, but it’s not so bad.” When I said dusty, her expression shifted subtly. I wondered how a grown up lady could look like a perfect doll.
She smiled. She knew!
“Thank you, Tommy, for telling me. Okay, well I guess me and Fiona will go get ready for our big trip! You be sure to call me Peggy, okay sweetheart?”
“Uh, okay, Peggy, oh, and you’ll see big black buzzards eating dead animals. Hey, I’ll dig up a big, fat toad for you so you can have it for a pet. Ok?” I wanted so much to bring her some peace, hell, happiness. “We’ll even stop for Spur Colas, you’ll see Peggy. Do you like those?”
Peggy threw her head back, and her blonde hair filled the air. She laughed wondrously. In that second, whatever divide there was between us vanished. I could be her warrior, hell I had a horse and a rifle, didn’t I? Plus, I hunted green snakes.
Fiona sat next to her mom near the pool, a bit behind and her look of disapproval was a curious thing for me. Sure, I wanted her to be happy too, but hell, I couldn’t do it all.
She moved as if about to stand, then stopped and told me to come closer to where she was at pool’s edge. “Com’ere Tommy, come closer honey.” I was where her knees were and I looked up into her sun lit face. All in one swift movement, she leaned over and, with one hand holding the side of my face, she planted my other cheek with a big, noisy kiss. Her blonde hair brushed my face and just then I think I got my first taste of real love!
End note: Sure, this is one of countless little boy stories who falls head over heels for a much older woman. Stories like this one raise questions about us as we grow up. Absolutely, I just completely flipped over Peggy. There were several other, um, older ladies in my life almost just like that time. In time, though, reality comes crashing in on top of us and dismisses what I feel were a few magical moments. Sure would be fun to hear some of your stories about this.
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