My Sweetest Admirers

I've been at a loss for a subject lately partly because of my schedule and partly due to the pressure of my upcoming trip to Baton Rouge. Closing the shop for 10 days is really stressful.

I decided to post a short story about a certain nameless hiker and her crazy dog being chased by the police. I wrote is several years ago and am very distressed to say I can't find the darn thing and have spent way too much time looking for it.

Leave it to our dear Velvet to provide me with inspiration for this piece with her love letter story.

When I was in high school, I worked summers in our Mini Park system. It was a program of sports, games, crafts and organized activities designed to keep kids off the street. No one ever seemed to want the little kids, ages 4 - 5, and, since I was low man on the totem pole, that job fell to me. I could never understand why no one wanted to supervise them...they were easy peasy.

The little kids preferred to hang on the swing sets which were far from the rec room and the a/c. But other than making sure the big kids left them alone, my job basically consisted of pushing them on the swing or allowing them to push me.

In my group were two little boys, age 4 and first cousins. Dixon and Dylan were both blond with blue eyes - the epitome of cute. Both had a massive crush on me. Each was the complete opposite as far as their courting techniques.

Dylan was my favorite because he was just so sweet. At break, he would return to the swings with soda and candy. He would also bring a cup to share his soda with me and offer up his candy willingly. The boy would seem downright hurt if I refused to partake. When he found what kind of candy I preferred, that became his favorite. He would pick flowers and bring them to me. Dylan would tell me I was pretty and compliment my outfits. Boy, did I wish he was another dozen years older. This went on every summer of my employment there.

On the other hand, Dylan's cousin Dixon, did his best to get my negative attention. He would stare at me until I glanced his direction, then look away. If I spoke to him, he would simply ignore me. Once, as I was headed to the rec room, Dixon was coming towards me on the field. He looked up, saw me, turned sharply to his left. He walked about ten feet, turned to his right and once I had passed him, he made another left and continued on his way. Sometimes he would call me names and yell at me. I really thought the kid hated me.

But the boys' grandmother lived across the street from me. She told me Dixon really had a crush on me too. He just didn't express it as kindly as his cousin. Apparently when he would visit her, he would sit on her swing, never going inside, hoping to see me.

Years later, my mom ran into the boys. They were both around 14 at the time. My mother teased them a bit about their crush on me and was floored by Dixon's starry-eyed response.

"Yeah, that {Creekhiker} is gonna sure make some man a mighty fine wife. Too bad she's just a little too old for me!"

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