I saw her crossing the street as I rounded a bend on the way home. My son was asleep in the seat beside me, his head hanging on his chest. I was grateful he was asleep, because I try not to swear around kids, but she was so amazing, an expletive slipped from my lips.
There was no rush in her slow voyage across the asphalt, and I was glad of that. She had the kind of curves that could make a man risk everything to get close to her ... yet, I really wanted to get closer.
I slowed to let her cross and she turned to look at me. Our eyes met ... locked and she continued to move forward while looking back at me. If you've ever done "Eyes Right!" in a parade formation you know the movement ... except, this was done with a dangerously curvy body.
She was beautiful.
I couldn't help myself, I stopped in the middle of the road and stared. She raised her head at this, but still she stared back. She stopped too.
I thought about my wife, my kids, my present life. To go to her would risk it all ... and yet she was a siren calling me out of the JEEP.
If I were single, I don't think I would have hesitated to go to her, but the sleeping kid beside me reminded me of my responsibilities.
In my rearview mirror, an approaching school bus a half mile behind me snapped me out of my indecisive fog. The boy should see this, after all he's closer to manhood than boyhood now.
I nudged him awake. He looked at me with a sleep dopey befuddlement. I pointed at her.
He turned and looked forward, "OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD!" was all he could get out.
The yellow school bus was getting closer in my rearview, I stuck my arm out and waved it around.
It passed on the left and we sat there, both of us staring, until the six foot diamondback rattlesnake was safely off the road and headed into the palmettos.
Dangerous curves indeed.