Dad and Mom were deeply in love.  Many couples, today, love each other for a while.  However, their love is like a sparkler, glowing brilliantly for a brief period of time and then fizzling out.  Then came the divorce.  That was how all my relationships worked out, but Dad and Mom were true to each other till the day she died.  He never remarried.

     I still recall the day at the cemetery, when Mom was buried.  A soft rain was falling and a light breeze was blowing.  The priest was standing over the grave in his black robe.  He said his bit, made the sign of the cross, and Mom was lowered into the ground.  Dad held me close to him under his umbrella.  Then I looked up at his face and saw tears streaming down.  That was the only time I had ever seen him cry.  It was then that I knew I would always love him, in spite of his faults.

     His worse fault is that he is a bigot.  I guess he became that way because of his upbringing.  His father was a descendent of Confederate Mississippians. His father had worked in a box factory and Dad had worked in a tire plant. Dad had followed in his father’s footsteps in so many ways. The racism of his father had been ingrained in my Dad.   Therefore, I knew, I was in for trouble when I decided to marry a black woman.

     She and I had been going together for three months. I hadn’t told Dad about her though.  I knew is would make him explode.  Besides I was a grown man. It was my business whom I dated. I remember when the trouble started.  Dad and I were watching the news on the old Zenith in the living room. The Democratic candidate for president, Bill Clinton, was on TV giving a talk to B’nai Brith in New York.  The rabbi stood at the podium after Clinton spoke about the need for a new aid package for Israel.  Dad’s face turned red as a beet as he listened.  He said, ”The only mistake Hitler made was that he didn’t get enough of them!”

     I got up and began walking toward the kitchen.  Dad said, ”Where are you going?  Stay here.  I want to talk with you.”

     I stood, hovering over him fidgeting.  Then Dad began one of his famous monologues.  He said, ”Son, a college education doesn’t cut it in this world.  You need common sense.  Book sense alone won’t get you anywhere in this world.”

     I sat back down, sinking into the plush cushions of the couch, and resigned myself to hearing him out.  He leaned over in his chair and looked me straight in the eyes.  He said, ”Son, I didn’t even graduate high school, but I had college graduates working under me.  I’ve seen college kids I wouldn’t hire for any job.  Half of them are educated fools.”

     I looked down, took a deep breath, and acknowledged his points with pithy, pained replies,” I know Dad.”

     Dad reached over to the coffee table, grasped the remote control, and turned off the TV.  He went on, ”Son, you’ve had how many jobs?  I’ve lost count.  Now you’re forty five years old and going back to school.  That’s good. But go to the University of Southern Mississippi.  Don’t go to Tulane. They’re nothing but a bunch of wackos in New Orleans. They’re all Jews and liberals.  You’ll just get into trouble.”

     I sighed and lay back, sinking into the couch.  I laid my hand across each other on my lap.  We were silent for a moment and Dad appeared as if he were about to say something.  I broke the silence saying, “I know how you feel about it Dad, but I’m going anyway.”

     Dad said, “Go then.  I’ve got nothing else to say.”

     Dad aimed the remote control and flipped the TV back on. Dad said over the noise of the TV, “You’re nothing but a crazy knee jerk bleeding heart liberal.”

     I yawned and muttered so softly he couldn’t hear, ”And proud of it.”

     Dad looked up and grasped the remote control once more.  He tried to turn the television off, but didn’t have much luck.  He got flustered, aiming and pressing, and grimacing.  Finally the TV went off.   He turned around in his chair again, and said in a soft empathetic tone, “Son, that wasn’t all I wanted to talk to you about. Don’t get married again.  You saw what happened all the other times.  They’ll just take you for all you’ve got and leave you high and dry.”

     I looked away from him at the blank television screen and said, changing the subject, “Dad, I’ll make my own decisions, thank you.”

     He said, “All right, all right.  Go right ahead.  Get married again.  But don’t come running back to me with your tail between your legs when she leaves you.”

     Dad angrily pointed the remote control like a weapon and flicked the TV back on.   As we sat watching the TV there was a report on the riots in South Central LA.

     I cleared my throat twice and said, “Dad.”

     He looked at me curling his lips and said, “What is it son?  I’m trying to watch the news.”

     I asked, “What would you do if I married a black girl?”

     He bellowed, “What kind of a crazy question is that?  I’d kick your tail right out of this house.  That’s what I’d do.”

     I frowned and said, “Oh, I was just wondering.”

     We were silent a moment as the TV droned on.  I said, “Dad.”

     In consternation he exclaimed, “What is it son?  I’m trying to watch the news!”

     I said, “Dad I’m dating a black girl.”

     He grabbed the remote and swiftly clicked the TV off.  He asked, “What did you say son?”

     I repeated, “I’m dating a black girl.”

     He shook his head angrily and yelled, “What the hell...?”

     I said, “Dad her name is Valerie and she’s a sophomore at Tulane.  She deserves some respect from you.  She’s the girl I’m going to marry.”

     He clenched his fists and said, “I don’t give a damn if she goes to Harvard.  You said she’s a sophmore.  How old is she?”

     I said, “twenty five, but...”

     He interrupted me retorting, “You’re old enough to be her father!”

     I replied softly, “Dad, age doesn’t matter if you love someone.”

     He said, “The hell it doesn’t.  I wash my hands of you.  I’m disowning you as of now.  Go stay with her.  I won’t put up with your crap anymore. But mark my word, you’ll end up divorced and on my steps in less than a month.  That is if you don’t give me a stroke.”

     I got off the couch and said, “I gotta go Dad.” 

     I called Valerie and meekly asked, “Can I stay at your place tonight?”

     She took a deep breath and asked, “Your father?”

     I said, “Yes, I told him.”

     She said, “Come on over.”

     As I walked through the living room on my way out the door I told Dad, “I’ll pick up my things tomorrow.”

     Dad looked down at the floor from the throne of his recliner and said, “I don’t give a damn what you do.”

     I drove through the rainy streets.  It was dark.  I turned the headlights on and they made a halo in the mist rising from the hot pavement.  Steam formed on my window shield.  I turned on the defrost.  The paper mill, closed now, loomed huge and dark, as I passed down the fog bound forest road.

     I thought about the first day I met Valerie.  We met in line for a movie at the mall in Natchez.  We didn’t even watch the movie.  We went to a nearby Chinese restaurant.

     I remember our conversation like it was yesterday.  We sat at the table and ordered.  While waiting for the food Valerie said, “I don’t know anything about you.  Tell me about yourself.”

     I said, ”Oh that would bore you.”

     She stared directly into my eyes, disarming my resistance with her smile as her eyes seemed to peer into my soul.  She said, “I want to know everything about you.”

     I said, “All right.  You want me to reveal everything?”

     She looked at me with her glittering eyes like laser beams aimed at my heart, and said, “I want you to bare your soul to me.”

     I began, “I dropped out of college after the first year.  I joined a commune.  I was married.”

     She looked at me hungry to know more.  She asked, “What was your wife like?”

     I said, “She was a free spirit.  I couldn’t tame her.  I didn’t even try too.  We were both in love with the idea of being in love.  We were too young to know the meaning of love.”

     Valerie had a very serious look on her face.  She asked, “If you had it to over again would you have married her?”

     I said, “You remind me of her.”

     Valerie asked, “Does that scare you?”

     I smiled and said, “Maybe a little.”

     Valerie said, “I don’t use people. I’m not the type.”

     I looked at her and said, “You remind me of why I fell in love with her in the first place.  You make me feel alive in a way I haven’t felt since I was dating her.”

     Valerie said, “I never could commit to anyone either.  I never stayed with a man for more than a month.”

     We were silent for a moment.  She spoke up piercing the quiet and said, “I don’t believe in marriage.  Do you?”

     I smiled and said, “I think it can work.”

     She smiled sipping the tea the waiter had brought.  She said, “You’re optimistic.  I like that.”

     I said, “If I weren’t optimistic, I wouldn’t make it through the day.”

     She said, “Maybe some of that optimism will rub off on me, if we stay together long enough, that is if I like you.  Do you like me so far?  Am I better than the other girls you’ve been with?”

     I blushed and said, “Well, we’ve been together for four hours and we haven’t had an argument.  That’s progress.”

     She squinted at me asking, “Does that mean you like me?”

     I said, “I would have to answer that with an unqualified yes.”

     She said, ”Oh I like you.”

     My mind came back to the present momentarily.  I tightly gripped the steering wheel of the car clenching my hands around it out of desperation.  The light rain had dissipated, but the fog out side was thick.  I could see the glowing of the car lights as I plowed down the foggy road.  I was desperate to get to Valerie’s as quickly as possible.  My heart beat furiously and sweat poured down my forehead.  I wondered what would happen to us now.  For so long we had pretended like love was all that mattered. 

     I arrived at Valerie’s house and walked through the cold wet mist up to her doorstep.  She looked out through her Venetian blinds and opened the door for me.  I walked in covered in sweat and walked into the bedroom where Valerie was sitting, on the bed.  My breathing was fast and ragged as I sat next to her.  I said, “Honey, don’t worry about Dad.  I love you and we can make it with or without his approval.”

     Valerie sat next to me and said, “Honey, I love you too, but we need to think about this.  This relationship is getting so complicated.  I need some time to think.”

     I said, “I understand.  There’s no need to rush.”

     She kissed me lightly on the forehead and said, “Honey, I just want what’s best for both of us.”

     I said, “Valerie, if he treats you with anything less than the dignity and respect that you deserve, I’ll never talk to him again.”

     Valerie said, “I wouldn’t want that.”  She was so selfless.  I felt more in love with her than ever.  She lay against me caressing my shoulders and chest.  I fell asleep. 

     I slept late into the next morning.  When I woke up sunlight was streaming through Valerie’s Venetian blinds.  I was lying next to Valerie and her arm was lying across my bare chest.  I gently lifted her arm off my chest careful not to wake her.  I left her a note telling her I didn’t want to drag her into this situation that I loved her so much that I couldn’t bear to see her suffer.

     I drove back to Dads.  As I walked into the door Dad was waiting in his recliner.  Before I could get a word in edgewise he said, ”Your mother would turn in her grave if she knew what you were doing.”

     I glared at him saying, “Dad, I’m not going to marry Valerie.  I am also leaving here.  I can’t stand it anymore.  I guess this is it Dad.  I don’t expect I’ll ever see you again.”

     Dad smiled and said, “Oh come on son. She was one of those educated women. They’re too liberated. She wouldn’t have been satisfied being your wife.  She would have just divorced you like all the others.”

     I said, “Dad, we have nothing more to say to each other.  I’m going to start a new life for myself out west.  I’m going to marry any woman I want to, black, yellow, red, Jewish, whatever.  You have no more say in my life anymore.  I don’t want you to be a part of my life.”

     Dad looked sad and then suddenly angry.  He yelled, “Your brains are fried from all those drugs you took in the sixties.  You’re a draft dodger and a fool.  You never could do the right thing!”

     I walked into my bedroom.  I looked down at the single bed I had slept in since I was a kid so many years ago.  On the wall were my trophies from swimming and track.  Dad had been so proud of me when I got them.  On the bed stand was a picture of my mother. I picked it up and looked at it.  Dad walked in and stood looking at me.  He whispered, “You’re serious aren’t you son?”

     I said, “Dead serious.”

     He said, “Well, I guess you should be on your own. I’m too old to have you hanging around here.  Just remember I love you no matter where you go.” 

     I said, “Sometimes love isn’t enough”, and walked out carrying my duffle bag.

     As I drove south down Highway 61 towards New Orleans, Dad’s words, “You never could to the right thing,” echoed through my mind. My mind drifted back to when I had joined to coast guard so that I wouldn’t have to go fight in Vietnam.  The first day of basic training we were all standing in formation on the parade ground.  The drill Sergeant inspected our uniforms and my belt buckle wasn’t aligned right.

     The drill Sergeant yelled, “Get down puke and give me fifty.”

     I got down and did pushups till my arms got weak and I couldn’t do anymore.

     The drill Sergeant yelled,” Keep going puke.”

     I stood up and said, “I quit.”

     The drill Sergeant stuck out his chest and bellowed, “You can’t quit the United States Coast Guard.”

     I walked away.  Later I faked insanity by walking around completely naked.  The psychiatrist tested me, asking me all sorts of absurd questions, like, “Do you dream in color or black and white?” Finally they gave up and I got my section eight.

     I was overjoyed, but Dad wasn’t.  I had given up.  I just couldn’t hack it.  I had been running away from responsibility for most of my life.

     I passed over the causeway across the western side of Lake Pontchartrain. I looked out at the lake stretching out in greenish blue water to the distant horizon.  Sailboats skimmed across the surface of the effervescent water leaving patterns of white lines across the blue with their frothy wake.  The marshes to my right were interlaced with pools sparkling in the late afternoon sunlight. An airliner swooped out of the clear blue sky so high above, and beyond the pain and suffering of earthly life.

     Night fell as I descended the causeway into the urban sprawl of New Orleans.   As I passed the International airport, my car shook as a jet plane took off flying out over the sea of lights of Kenner.  I wondered where I was going and why.  I felt as though I were once more adrift on the ocean of life.  I had come so close to finding my place in the universe with Valerie. 

     Soon the lit up skyscrapers of New Orleans appeared looming out of the blackness. By then I was on the expressway approaching the Mississippi River Bridge, with cars whizzing by me.  A guy in a Corvette sped around me and pulled in front of me.  He began weaving in and out of the cars ahead of me on the overhead expressway. 

     My mind drifted back to Valerie, her smile, her warm touch on my fevered brow.  I felt as though I was adrift being carried farther and farther out to sea.  I passed through the cities, kaleidoscope of lights and traffic.  I felt very small, like a tiny fish in an immense ocean.  I felt carried along by the current, powerless to change direction.  This powerless feeling made me feel as though I were suffocating.  At that moment I knew that I was running, as I had been most of my life. 

     I exited off the interstate and turned around.  I drove through the darkness and felt something come together within my mind.  It was as though all my life were focused on this point in time.  All the events which had happened were preparing me for the next step.  It was as though I had been lost at sea only to see the light house shining in darkness guiding me to shore. 

     By then the stars were out and the cool air flowed through the vents in my car.  My heart pumped with excitement at my new found resolution.  The miles un-wound, as though I was in a beautiful dream. In this dream I emerge from the stream of events leading from the past into an undetermined future in which freedom from purposelessness becomes my salvation.  Now I am free to choose my own direction.   I am following a path to a wholly unexpected place, full of miraculous surprises.  

     I arrived back at Valerie’s late at night and she greeted me with hugs and kisses.  She said, “I was worried about you.” 

     I kissed her and said, “Don’t worry.  I won’t leave you again.  I thought I was leaving for you, but really I just didn’t want to face the truth.”

     Valerie led me to the bed.  She said, “I want you to make love to me.”

      The next morning we took a trip together to the gulf coast.

      We drove through the countryside of Mississippi toward the gulf.  There were pine forest, streams, rolling hills, and small dairy farms with cows grazing peacefully in the pastures.  Wispy cirrus clouds sailed overhead in the deep blue sky.  I opened my window and the sweet smell of pine wafted across my nose.  The wind was cool and refreshing.

     The morning passed into afternoon and we arrived in Gulfport, driving down the coast road past the little beachwear shops and fast food restaurants.  We parked alongside the beach. Then we walked between the dunes covered in sea oats. The sand burned the soles of my feet.  A salty breeze blew across my face.  There were gentle waves crashing on the beach.  The sea horizon was a level geometers line, so peaceful to gaze at.  The scene looking out over the Mississippi sound was beautiful.  I could see Ship Island, a tiny speck on the horizon.  It was a beautiful place to escape from my problems for a while.

     We lay on our beach towels listening to the waves lap the sand. The warm sun on our bare skin seduced us into a blissful reverie.  This afternoon Valerie seemed so peaceful.  She looked at me and we kissed.  I felt tremors go down my spine from the touch of her warm wet lips on mine.  She looked so beautiful, with her dark slender legs curled.  I felt as though I had been transported to some utopian world far beyond fear or pain.

     Valerie sat up, and pulled her knees to her chest, resting her chin on them, and wrapping her arms around her folded legs.  She looked at me wistfully.  She said, “Remember when we first met three months ago.”

     I looked at her smiling.  I said, “We were standing in line for the Spike Lee movie.  You told me you hated standing in line.  I said I did too.  We talked for a while.  Then I said, ’Why don’t we get out of here and get something to eat?’”

     She rubbed some suntan lotion on her muscular shoulders and I reached over and massaged her back.  She said, “Mmmm...”  She said, “We went to that Chinese place.”

     I said, ”Yea, and you ordered that vegetarian chop suey.”

     She told me, “Please go lower.”  I reached down and massaged the small of her back.  She lay down on her stomach and I ran my hand up and down her thighs, and hips massaging her.  She closed her eyes and sighed.  She said, “Yea, and you ordered that pork stuff.  What was that?”

     “Sweet and sour,” I said, as I ran my fingers up and down her spine reaching down her sacrum.  I went on, “I asked you if you were a vegetarian.  You said, ’Yea’.”  I was thinking, ”Oh God, I hope she’s not one of those new age health food freaks.’”

     Valerie stretched her back and I reached under her sides and caressed her stomach.  She said, “I remember you were wearing a tie dye shirt.  I was thinking’ Lord, he must be a hippie from the sixties. I hope he’s not into drugs.’”

     I asked her, “What attracts you to me?”

     She turned over on her side and placed her hand on my breast.  She giggled and said, “What a silly question. I believe in you.  You’re going to get your life together.”

     I touched her cheek and grazed her lips with the tip of my index finger.  I said, “Sometimes I think I don’t deserve you.  You know about my father, being a bigot.  Why do you stay with me?”

     She kissed me and said, “I’ve never found a man I could share my feelings with like you.  All the men I knew were too macho and uncomfortable with their masculinity.  You’re different.  You’re not afraid to bare your soul with me.  On our first day together I could see that you don’t build walls around your self.  I feel I can share a deeper level of intimacy with you than I have with anyone ever.  I feel closer to you than I have ever felt toward anyone.  We are soul-mates darling.”

     Valerie and I walked back to the car.  After we got in and I started the car, the air conditioner blew cool and refreshing.  I said, to Valerie, ”Let’s get married this weekend.”

     She laughed and said, “Why the rush honey?”

     I drove the car out onto the road and said, “I want to.”

     She asked, “Are you sure it’s not too soon.”

     I said, “I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.”

     She said, “All right let’s do it.”

     When we got back to the hotel I called Dad and invited him to the wedding.  He said, “I’m watching football games this weekend.”

     I said, “Dad, remember Mom.  Remember how much she meant to you.  Well, Valerie means that much too me.  It would really mean something to me if you came.”

     Dad said, “I’ll think about it.”

     The next day we made the journey back to Natchez.

     That weekend Valerie and I went to the justice of the peace.

     Dad came in right before Valerie and I said, “I do.”

     After the wedding I walked over to Dad.  He looked tired and his eyes were red.

     Dad said, “So you’ve done it.”

     I said, “Yes.”

     Dad said, “You know it was a mistake.”

     I said, “No Dad.  I did the right thing.”

     Dad said,” I don’t like it.”

     I said, “You don’t have to.”

     Dad said, “Don’t expect me to baby sit the children.”

     I said, “I won’t ask and Dad, thank you for coming.”

     I hugged him and looked down at his face. For the first time since Mom’s burial I saw tears in his eyes. I asked him, “Dad, why are you crying?”     

      He looked up at me trembling with blood streaked eyes.  He said, “Every parent has a right to cry at their child’s wedding.”