MY FIRST KISS

Cheryl Anne Allen

1968
 I rarely tell this story to anyone because I don’t think people

would believe me, but I met Henry in nineteen-sixty eight. I cannot even

say the year without smiling. I was riding around with friend’s one day

and they said they wanted to go to the shopping center. This was during

the PM (pre-mall) period. So we went to Sears and I was messing with the

typewriters. I was looking at the new Smith Corona and all its features

when I saw him. He was so cute and shy as I don't know what. I looked at

him and he looked down. The first time he did it, I didn't think anything

of it. I walked over to the vacuum cleaners while my friends were trying

on clothes and there he was about ten feet behind me. Now I was getting

suspicious. So I walked into the ladies department to join my friends and

he slowly followed. When I turned toward him he panicked and asked the

sales girl how much a girdle cost. I think I bit my tongue I wanted to

laugh so bad, but my girlfriends were not so polite and burst out so loud

I thought we would be asked to leave the store. That day I remember I was

wearing this lavender mini skirt and these powder blue high-top paten

leather Go-Go boots. I’d gone to the beauty parlor a couple of days

earlier and asked Lori to cut my hair just like Diana Carroll wore her’s

on Julia. So I was feeling extra cute when he saw me.

As I walked, I thought I'd give him a show. I slowed down and

moved my hips with a little extra pop. When I looked back, he was gone.

Boy, did I feel foolish because I’d done all that walking for nothing.
 I decided to look for him. After all I had not finished the

show. I noticed a crowd around the TV sets and there he was. As I got

closer, there was an eerie feeling and I knew something was wrong. This

little old black lady about my height was crying and so I walked up to him

and tugged on his shirt sleeve. He looked around and said, "Hi," and I saw

his gorgeous coal black eyes and thick long dark eye lashes. And on top of

it all he had this smile that pulled you in like a hug that would last all

day. I asked, "What's going on over here," and he said, "I don't know,"

then moved aside and motioned for me to stand in front of him.

After we heard the news, I can remember getting a little weak in

the knees. I mean this couldn’t be true. There was no way that Dr. Martin

Luther King Jr. had been shot. In my house you never called him Dr. King

or just Martin Luther King. It was almost sacrilegious not to say Dr.

Martin Luther King Jr. I could feel Henry tense as these old crackers

started saying things and he exhaled so hard I could feel each breath on

my head.

About thirty minutes later my friends came in search of me and

when I told them the news they were like, "Umm. Hey they got some XYZ, for

sale," or something. No, I did not associate with the brightest people in

the world.

Henry introduced himself and asked if he could walk with me back to the

car. I knew he was just ripped up inside. I could see it in his reddening

face. I don't know what it was, but I’d seen him shortly before and then

afterwards, and I could tell that this singular event had changed Henry
Davis.

Maybe it was his innocence, maybe it was his belief in the

American way. I don't really know what it was since we never spoke of it,

but I do know a small part of him died right there in Memphis when Dr.

King was shot.

I called Henry later that night, which was the first time I had

ever called a boy before they called me. When he picked up the phone I was

a little nervous but I don't think he ever noticed.

"So what are you doing?"

"Nothing," he said. "Just finished watching the news and was getting ready

to do my homework."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I could call you back another time if you like."

"No way. My homework can wait. I was going to call you anyway as soon as a

commercial came on.’ There was a piercing moment of silence as I think we

both contemplated what to say next.

"So," he asked. "Do you ahh, go to Sears often?"

He was so cute. Only when I need something or when one of my

friends can get their daddy's car.’

We talked that night until it was time for me to go to bed

with the sounds of the riots on the television in the background. With

Henry, after the first few awkward minutes the conversation was fun. We

talked about school and about a lot of things most boys don't like talking

although at times I could tell his attention was diverted to the news. We

even liked the same TV shows. We both liked The Dean Martin Show,

especially when Nipsey Russell would be on there rhyming and stuff. And we

liked the shows everybody liked. Family Affair, I Dream of Jeanie and The

Mod Squad. He also said he liked Perry Mason. I asked him why since I was

not really into it and he said it was because he was going to be an

Attorney. I told him that was cool and that I had no idea what I wanted to

be. Then Henry Louis Davis II, at the age of fifteen, laid out this plan

for me that would lead him to the White House in exactly thirty -two years.

He'd decided what college he would attend, and what law school he would

graduate from. He knew when he wanted to get married and how many kids he

wanted and what office he would run for first, second and everything. I

had a lot of friends who were ambitious, don't get me wrong. But Henry

spoke as if he were an adult and he could actually see it all happening.

It was so distinct and vivid that even I could envision it taking place.

He later told me that as soon as he had gotten home from Sears he took out

a piece of paper and charted out the rest of his life.

Henry's parents never accepted me. It may have been because I

was from a part of town known as Liberty City. At that time it wasn't a
terrible place to live, but it was the projects and they wanted more for

their son. Looking back I can't fault them for it, but at the time it did

hurt. Henry would get his cousin to drive him to my house after lifting

weights with his friend David and we would listen to Motown records as he

tried to dance. He would be Marvin Gaye and I would be Tammy Terrell. The

only problem was he never could dance a lick but we had fun until five-

forty five when he would leave because, just like clock work, the bus

would always arrive at five-fifty. Sometimes he would pass mom on the

sidewalk headed to our house and I could just imagine him laughing to

himself as he walked away.

Then one day for some reason he rode his bike over. Now he lived

in North Miami and their house was a good ten miles from ours, one way. He

said his cousin would not bring him and his parents were not going to be

home for a while so he just hopped on his bike and rode over.

When he came in the house we laughed and talked about nonsense

like we usually did. And then we started touching. Just our hands at

first. I was sitting on his lap and he was saying these silly knock-knock

jokes in my ear. Although I giggled and would occasionally say "Stop it!"

I loved every moment of it.

He then kinda awkwardly tried to move his lips closer to mine.

Although he was cute, he never was the most coordinated brother in the

world, but I took the hint and brought my lips closer. Then nervously, he

swallowed and braced himself, as if he was about to jump out a plane, and
brought his lips to mine. As we kissed, we really did not know what to do.

It was my first real kiss and felt nothing like I expected it would or

should. I didn't know if I should give or receive, so we just sat there

with our lips locked waiting for someone to make the first move. As I was

kissing him, it felt good . . . but funny, so I opened my eyes and found

him looking at me. I didn't even think he knew he was supposed to keep his

eyes closed. Henry looked at me with a smile still plastered on his face

and said,

"What you laughing at?"

"You, goofy!" I said.

"Oh I'm goofy now, huh." His smile then disappeared as he pu t his finger

under my chin, tilted my head back and gave me a kiss that was sweeter

than any he had given me in my dreams. I felt a burn that went through my

veins and my toes curled as if I were soaking wet and had stuck my finger

in an electrical outlet. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, my

tongue felt thick and goose bumps appeared all over my arms. If he didn’t

know how to kiss when he walked in the door, he was a fast learner.

At this time I was a virgin and very proud of that fact. I was

only tempted once before but nothing had enticed me to this degree.

Somehow he eased me off his lap and onto the floor then positioned himself

on top of me and we lay there dry-humping like I don't know what. He was

heavy and I absolutely loved his weight on top of me. And then I said,
"No, no. Let’s not do it here." We got up and went into my bedroom

upstairs. I was scared to death. I knew we could never get caught so that

was not a problem, but I was scared of...