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Tuesday, December 23, 2014

Summer Kiss


Christmas 1961 and summer was upon us. City Beach was my preferred beach for swimming and surfing. But Marilyn used to go to Scarborough or Trigg Beach with her family. I didn’t hesitate. If I didn’t have the Chevvy I hitched my way to Scarborough to spend time with Marilyn and her family. She wore a demure one piece pair of bathers. A white ribbon about an inch wide was threaded across the top. She wore a blue clip in her hair which she kept adjusting. Her skin was warm, soft and gentle. She never smiled a lot and sometimes looked a little sulky but maybe it was just aloofness.

One late afternoon after a warm Summer’s day at Scarborough Marilyn and I walked to a dilapidated old beach shack just behind where the infamous Snake Pit used to stand (on the new Woolworths site). The old weatherboard and iron shack was owned by a friend or relation of Marilyn. There was no-one home. Alone inside, I took Marilyn’s hands in mine, drew her delicate warm body to mine and slowly I kissed the softest, warmest lips I had ever kissed in my life. Neither of us spoke a word. We looked into each other’s eyes. Then we kissed again ….. and again. Afterwards, I walked from Scarborough back to Wembley alone, a distance of about fourteen kilometres. It felt like 100 metres.  I did not want to wash away the  kiss or the feelings I had by sharing my feeling with a hitched ride. It was summer, glorious summer. I was seventeen and I wasn’t dreaming.

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