Eddie and his older brother, Kyle (a difference of
three years and an odd number of months separated
their chronologies), presented a very distinct and
impressive physical beauty: "and it runs in the
"family," said some, regarding their older sisters
(now at college) or cousins in the next township.
Prejudiced and disdainful gossips often repeated
certain assertions that Kyle---despite his Homecoming
Court appearance and qualification---was actually
involved in a surreptitious relationship (far more
intimate than mere friendship) with one of the
varsity football players. The words "That way . . ."
were often whispered about them, mostly behind
their backs, and they made no discernable effort to
address, deny, or discourage the opinion. Although
ours was a mostly denim-friendly campus (unusual for
high schools in that county and that part of the state;
rigid dress codes, some of them two or three decades
old, were much more prevalent), Kyle and Eddie rarely
wore jeans---casual or "dress" slacks were more like
their signature style, a rather subtle but noticeable
difference (but the brothers did prefer bell-bottoms to
straight-legs). One fairly bright day in the early
spring of Eddie's freshman year, during fifth period
lunch, he and some of his friends had taken their
usual seats on the cubic stone benches occupied the
broad space between the entrances to the cafeteria
(southward) and the main gymnasium (northward). Kim
Pryne, one of Eddie's classmates, was showing off---
well, really, bragging loudly about---her open-toed,
platform sandals (very popular in that time). Someone
else remarked that her feet, and Eddie's, seemed to be
similarly shaped to the same dimensions: therefore, a
momentary swap of shoes seemed to be suggested. This
seemed agreeable to them, and Eddie slipped his shoes
off, rather quickly, and put on Kim's platforms---which
increased his stature by about two inches. His socks
were jet-black---sheer around the soles and arches, but
opaque at the toes and heels. Although Kim's platforms
fit his feet with exact precision, the grimace on his
face suggested discomfort, and, almost immediately, he
flexed his ankles to remove them---having declined to
buckle them securely. As he stood, unshod, on the floor's
linoleum surface, an expression of relief became one of
amazement---and as he gazed at us (admittedly staring at
him, much more than at Kim, during these last several
moments)---something seemed to reveal itself with the
immediacy of a revelation. As he stood, his feet in
those very attractive socks, were almost entirely
concealed beneath the cuffs of his pin-stripe gray
bell-bottoms. Then suddenly he picked up his shoes, and
carried them through the corridor toward the location of
his assigned locker. Only sixth period (Geometry for
both of us) remained; and our teacher, the staid and
highly conformable Mrs. Shalorite, did not notice Eddie's
now delighted shoelessness. Nor did his other teachers, the
next day; nor the hall monitors; nor the library staff.
Most certainly, however, some of us did; I numbered these
glimpses among my daily delectables and nightly fantasies.
I did not, at that time, ever expect that Eddie would
notice, much less become acquainted with, me: but high
school is an artificially accelerated environment; and we
began dating during the Autumn of our sophomore year.
(More of our peers seemed to be shocked that Eddie felt
affection toward, and desire for, a stereotypical nerd:
that we were both, in the terms of that time and place,
"Homos" was less disturbing because already suspected.) I
asked him about that incident, in which Kim had participated:
he told me, between the very wet and open-mouthed kisses
we were exchanging during a prime time sit-com, that he had
suddenly, and very pointedly, realized just how much he
actually disliked shoes; that, unshod, his socks were much
more comfortable; and that the absence of shoes---whenever
surfaces or weather allowed---became one of his standing and
abiding preferences. Even now, two decades later, it remains a
part of his personality and lifestyle; an entire chest of
drawers is reserved for his collection of socks, most of which
have been gifts from me to mark almost any occasion. He
never hesitates to show them off for me---during the mundane
events of his daily activities and, more intimately, during
our intimate evenings when the socks become a nuance to his
playful nakedness---while we are making love.
Starward
[*/+/^]