約翰·沃爾特斯/John Walters
I remember the way the light touched her hair.She turned her head,and our eyes met,a momentary awareness in that raucous fifth-grade classroom.I felt as though Id been struck a blow under the heart.Thus began my first love affair.
Her name was Rachel,and I mooned my way through grade and high school,stricken at the mere sight of her,tongue-tied in her presence.Does anyone,anymore,linger in the shadows of evening,drawn by the pale light of a window-her window-like some hapless summer insect?
I would catch sight of her,walking down an aisle of trees to or from school,and I’d become paralyzed.She always seemed so poised,so self-possessed.At home,I’d relive each encounter,writhing at the thought of my inadequacies.Even so,as we entered our teens,I sensed her affectionate tolerance for me.
“Going steady”implied a maturity we still lacked.Her Orthodox Jewish upbringing and my own Catholic scruples imposed a celibate grace that made even kissing a distant prospect,however fervently desired.I managed to hold her once at a dance-chaperoned,of course.Our embrace made her giggle,a sound so trusting that I hated myself for what Id been thinking.
At any rate,my love for Rachel remained unrequited.We graduated from high school,she went on to college,and I joined the Army.When World War II engulfed us,I was sent overseas.For a time we corresponded,and her letters were the highlight of those grinding,endless years.Once she sent me a snapshot of herself in a bathing suit,which drove me to the wildest of fantasies.I mentioned the possibility of marriage in my next letter,and almost immediately her replies became less frequent,less personal.
The first thing I did when I returned to the States was to call on Rachel.Her mother answered the door.Rachel no longer lived there.She had married a medical student shed met in college.“I thought she wrote you.”her mother said.
Her“Dear John”letter finally caught up with me while I was awaiting discharge.She gently explained the impossibility of a marriage between us.Looking back on it,I must have recovered rather quickly,although for the first few months I believed I didnt want to live.Like Rachel,I found someone else,whom I learned to love with a deep and permanent commitment that has lasted to this day.