Her Bright Red Hair

Following basic training I was assigned to Brooks Air Force Base for technical schooling. I simply took a Blue Bird from the back gate of Lackland right onto my newest assignment in San Antonio, Texas.

In a group full of  young, excitable men, were three women. One of those women was a young lady by the name of Jane.

What attracted me to Jane was her bright red hair. She was sitting alone at a table in the enlisted man’s club, watching television, when I asked if I could join her.

I had two beers with me as I sat down across from her at the table, offering her one, which she accepted.

After finishing a second beer each, she and I decided to clear or buzzed-heads with a walk. We left the club, crossed the common and the main roadway to the base’s golf course.

The moon, while not a full one, was bright as we wandered from green to sand-trap to water hazard. It was also a warm night, which made the evening walk all that more pleasant.

Jane asked if I’d like to go with her to her barracks room, to sit and talk some more. I jumped at the chance, thinking I was going to somehow get luck and get laid.

She was being house in the Base Airman’s Quarters at the time, as the women’s third floor dormitory was full. So her living arrangement seemed much more upscale than what I had, especially since she had a real closet, a full-size bed and a private bathroom with a bathtub-shower.

Since it was a non-duty day, we sat up chatting and listening to her new album, “The Dog and the Butterfly,” by Heart. It eventually grew so late (or perhaps early) that I started to excuse myself to head back to my room for some much-needed sleep.

It was somewhat surprising then, when Jane suggested I stay with her. I was even more surprised when she invited me into her bed.

We cuddled up next to each other and both fell fast asleep. The sun was already high in the sky when I awakened.

I couldn’t help myself as I felt her pressing against me, waking me by gently kissing me on the neck.

Before I realized it, we were making out and that evolved into heavy petting. But I must have gone too far, too fast.

“What in the hell are you trying to do?” Jane screeched, “Get me pregnant?”

I immediately stopped and back away from her.

My mind was racing: had I confused her signal to me or something? I didn’t know until she kicked at me through the covers.

“You should go,” she commanded.

As quickly as I could, I pulled on my jeans and shirt. I didn’t bother to put on my shoes as I just wanted to get away from her cold stare.

I felt embarrassed and ashamed, although I had no idea why.

Once outside, I stopped, slipped on my shoes, then raced towards my barracks. I was hurt by her sudden jilting and it left me angry — at her and more over at myself, for my ignorance about women.

For the remaining nine-weeks I had left in tech-school, I did everything I could to avoid her. She eventually started keeping company with another guys in class.

Later. a tech-sergeant, who was our course supervisor, surprised me one afternoon by bringing Jane up in a conversation. I guess my moodiness over the sudden rejection was clear to him, though I thought I was hiding it fairly well.

“What did you seen in her?” he asked.

My answer was simple, “Her bright red hair.”