She didn't come here until almost Summer and she stayed a long time. Since it happened so late in the year I didn't get the usual bragging rights I'd have had if it had happened six months earlier. I'd have been Studley Mc Doright to all the ladies and a hero to the guys but I didn't give a shit about all that. I got what mattered.
Her name was Maria Jose. For the duration of her visit she decided to Anglicize her name to Mary Jo. My friend (Hey) Bobby nicknamed her Margarita, so while she was here she had three different names, and I think she enjoyed that. She really wanted to learn as much about America as she could. She didn't speak a word of English.
As luck would have it she was staying with my good friend Jeff. Our families were friends through the church and I'd known Jeff since first grade. I took guitar lessons from Jeff's brother and was friends with his other brother so I was at their house all the time. I knew I'd at least get to meet her, if not pick up a little Espanol. Jeff said that from her photos she appeared to be very beautiful and that was certainly a plus. I was looking forward to meeting her.
She was arriving at the airport Saturday night and I was invited to go along and then have dinner with them but I didn't go. I wanted to but I didn't want to make it seem like an obvious thing. Maybe I'd have gotten a leg-up on the competition but in the end it was satisfying to know that basically she chose me over every other guy. I decided I'd meet her along with everyone else the next day at a pool party.
Jeff and I went to a big church with lots of people and lots of old money. We weren't wealthy but we moved to a wealthy neighborhood so we could go to good schools. Lots of the kids from church went to the same school. The pool party was at the home of people who were wealthy, and maybe 100 or more people were there. It was Mary Jo's introduction to the American way of life, as it were. I got there before she arrived, and there was a little stir when she got there. I'd seen her picture so I knew she was fine but I still was amazed when I saw her in person, and so was pretty much everyone else. She was beautiful.
She stood maybe 5-8 or 9 even. She had dark hair and greenish-brown eyes. She was gorgeous and her body (especially after I saw her in a bikini) was what I'd call perfect. Jeff took her around introducing her. She was understandably a bit shy. She'd barely learned to say "hello" but she still seemed open and friendly. I thought she handled herself well and she seemed very calm for just having stepped into a different world. I certainly had a "Boy Howdy" moment when I first saw her but I admired her from a distance. The thought of going out with her hadn't even crossed my mind. I figured if she dated anybody while she was here it'd be one of the jocks. Fortunately I was wrong.
We didn't just jump into the pool; there was a process. We had lunch first and gave Mary Jo a chance to meet everyone before we all started playing Marco Polo and dunking each other and whatnot. We all had our bathing suits under our clothes. All the girls had dedicated matching oversuits or whatever they were, but Mary Jo had on jeans and a nice shirt. I loved that. At the time my word for most of the girls at high school was "plastic." They were fine as wine most of them but they just didn't give a fuck about much that was important. It was all about money and jewelry and fashion and "How can I fuck the quarterback" and shit like that. Mary Jo was a breath of fresh air.
The guys were all drooling over her and the girls were checking her out too. Lots of them were beautiful but it was different. Most of them were all into makeup and accessories and shit but Mary Jo didn't need all that. She just glowed naturally and the girls knew it. They had to have been a little jealous. Anyway the girls took off their dedicated, matching swimsuit-oversuits and Mary Jo took off her jeans, all in the guest house so the guys couldn't see of course. Mary Jo was the last to come out. She seemed a bit shy and hesitant at that point, and with good reason. When she walked out there was a collective gasp. All of the other girls were wearing one-piece swimsuits but not Mary Jo. She was sporting a black bikini. Heck yeah.
You may have guessed that it was a conservative bunch, with the church and old money and everything, and it being Sunday, the Lord's day and not at the beach or whatever, a black bikini was a bit of a scandal. None of the guys minded but there were little whispers amongst the girls. Anyway we all put it aside and jumped in. That's when the fun began, and eventually made me realize that I should never underestimate my chances with any woman from then on. Maria Jose was in the corner in the deep end with her arms on the side of the pool. One by one the guys would swim over and say hello. A few of them took Spanish so they could converse a little. She was friendly and didn't act cold at all but her body language said "Not interested, thanks," and most of the guys got the message. I was starting to think she didn't go for American men.
She caught my eye and smiled a couple of times. It lit me up but still I didn't think much about it. I was sort of sadistically enjoying watching all the BMOCs get shot down and going back immediately to American women. Every other guy had pretty much said hello if not directly hit on her, so I figured I'd go over and say hi, and Bingo...she lit up like the 4th of July. I was surprised, as was everyone else. I was a skinny dorky guy (still am) who was in the band and not on the football team, and I wasn't interested in most of those girls anyway, but here I was talking-up the hot exchange student. Her reaction was obvious. It took me aback for a second but of course I was thrilled and I went with it.
Oh, I can't believe it but I forgot to mention the villain of the story...probably because I've tried to block it out of my mind. I'm surprised I can't remember the guy's name but I'll call him Dick. Dick was from the oldest-of-the-old money and his family was extremely wealthy. He was spoiled to the bone and used to always getting whatever he wanted, and that applied to Mary Jo. He was also at least 6-3 and bigger than most of the football players even, so he was doubly used to getting his way. He swam over and put his arm up onto the side of the pool next to hers almost like he was claiming her. Somehow I didn't think it was going to go well for him but he didn't seem to see that.
Dick started talking and gesturing to her and he may have even said a few words in Spanish but she wasn't having any part of it. The other guys were at least polite and respectful but he was almost belligerent about it. She shook her head no but unlike the other guys that didn't seem to be a word he understood and he persisted. He wanted to show her around and take her to dinner and be her ride and this and this but she kept saying no. Finally he got the message and backed off, but he looked at her for a minute, and it was obvious he didn't like being rejected. He could've been a man and moved on but he didn't. I was hoping he wasn't going to be a problem but I didn't let it stop me from enjoying the unexpected conversation with the beautiful foreign-exchange student, if you can call a conversation with someone who speaks about three words of your language a conversation.
The fact that she no spoke English coupled with the fact that I was still reeling a bit just from the fact that she was obviously enjoying taking to me made things a little strange, but after a minute or two it became really fun. We were mostly gesturing and I was teaching her a few words on the fly, but it was communication in its most basic form, and two people very much enjoying it. I will have to brag some more and say that I couldn't help noticing that some of the girls, who hadn't looked twice at me before and maybe didn't even think I was into women, were looking at me sideways, with a "Hmmmm..." look on their faces, and the guys were wondering how she could be interested in me, as was I just a bit, to be honest. But I was happy for it.
Language-barrier aside I got the impression that she was a kind, sweet, caring and slightly-gentle person, and that proved to be true. She was much looser and freer than her American sisters, and I don't mean that in a bad way at all. Right off the bat it was easy to see that all the crap the American girls were into just didn't matter nearly as much to her. I mean she wore a bit of makeup and had a few beautiful but simple pieces of jewelry and I'm sure she liked looking pretty and all, but she just didn't care about all the trappings. She was much more interested in the person than what their status was, and believe me, lots of those gals went by that alone. Mary Jo was so much more down to earth and genuine, and so more my cup of tea.
We were hitting it off and gesturing and nodding and laughing and translating. I also began to get the impression that she didn't see any reason not to enjoy herself while she was here. After all she was a beautiful, interesting, kind and friendly 18-year-old, off on a great new adventure. Why not enjoy herself? Back then, in the States anyway, if you just met someone, usually you could tell fairly quickly whether or not they smoked pot. It was more of a special thing than it is now, and the smokers kind of had their own thing. I got the feeling that Mary Jo smoked pot, so I began to figure out how to ask her without alerting anyone else.
I should mention the conservative thing again...although there were a good amount of smokers in school, very few of the other church kids smoked pot. There was a small group of us that did, but some of them were my friends but not regular members of the church, and they came along for the fun. They'd certainly have been welcomed anyway but there were so many people that nobody much noticed, but we did have a reputation as the "bad boys" in church. Wednesday nights the church would hold a huge supper in a huge building that was like beautiful Architecture built around a gymnasium. We'd have dinner and then the kids our age would usually play volleyball. It was so much fun that some of my friends "joined" the church.
Anyway I quietly asked "Do you smoke pot?" She thought I meant a cooking pot. "Ummm. do you smoke weed?" "Weed?" "Ummm...grass?" She looked confused. "Reefer?" "Reefer?" I wanted to avoid using the M-word for obvious reasons, but I finally said "Marijuana?" For good measure I mimed smoking a joint. Looking back I probably should've indicated that we should keep it quiet because of the conservative thing, which she didn't really understand; God bless her in retrospect, but I didn't. Smoking pot was no big deal where she lived and maybe she figured that since I did everyone else did too, so there was no need to be quiet about it. In my defense I also didn't expect her to react quite as positively, or loudly, as she did when she realized what I was saying.
When she heard the M-word she loudly proclaimed "Ohhh...marijuana! Si...SI!" Oh, shit. I wanted to dive down to the bottom of the pool and not come up for a few minutes, but it was too late. Everyone got quiet and stared at us. Again, the conservative thing. She quickly realized the situation and got red in the face for a minute, but again she didn't let it freak her out. It freaked me out a bit though, but there was nothing I could do. Another check mark for the "Pot Squad." It wasn't a Hallmark moment but finally things got relatively back to normal, except with something new to gossip about.
We talked until the party wound down in the late afternoon. There was the occasional glance and whisper but at least nobody bothered us. I relaxed again and got back into enjoying spending time with my new friend. It was dawning on me that I'd most likely be spending more time with her and how perfect it was that she was staying with Jeff's family. I was very pleased with the situation and her interest certainly didn't wane. The more connections we made the more we laughed and I guess you could say bonded. I was floating. It was just one of those times when the Universe aligned.
Here I'd found this incredible woman who seemed to like me, and the language thing made it really interesting, and not as much of a barrier that I might have thought. I hadn't planned on talking to a beautiful girl from Mexico all day long so I hadn't prepared a speech or anything but that didn't matter at all, and that was the beauty of it. We got to meet clean; without finding out first what our social status was or whatever first. With her it was obvious because she was gorgeous and everything else, but with me it was a bit of a mystery because I'm very average-looking and back then I looked like I was about 13, but apparently she saw something in me that she liked right off the bat, without thinking about social norms or anything.
It was real and I was digging it. We were still talking when most people had left. Finally Jeff came over with a big grin on his face and said something about how things were going so well until I dropped the "Reeferbomb" on everybody. I laughed and I think Mary Jo got it too. She looked embarrassed but she did a little giggle. Jeff invited me to dinner again and this time I accepted. I went over later and we chatted a bit and then dinner was served. Mary Jo asked if she could sit next to me and I said "Si, por favor." I hope that was right.
After a great dinner we all sat around talking and playing music and such. We threw out what Spanish words we knew and were giving Mary Jo impromptu English lessons. Whether or not she spoke a word of English she was a delight to be around, and I was really getting attracted to her. At one point I literally had go get up and go into the kitchen and remind myself that she was only going to be here a couple of months and whatever happened wouldn't last, for now anyway, even though you never know what might happen down the road. I worked it out in my head that I'd try not to fall in love with her but there was no reason not to go for it, considering she'd made it clear she wanted to spend time with me. Here we go, Mary Jo!
After dinner we sat around and played more music and chatted. Mom and dad turned in early since it was a "school night" for them. That left the kids. We put on some music and offered Mary Jo a "welcome joint" and she accepted. It was Mexican weed, which was pretty much what she smoked back home. Jeff and I had first smoked for the first time together and we hadn't been smoking very long, so we didn't want to get too high, so four people shared one joint. That was plenty. We all got the giggles and we got pretty relaxed. It made communication with Mary Jo more fun, linguistic or otherwise.
Around midnight Jeff and his brother went to bed. They had a nice big backyard so Mary Jo and I went outside to enjoy the evening and I ended up staying over there talking to her until almost 4am. I figured she must be tired but she got across to me that she was wide awake and glad I was there. I said I was too and I meant it. I don't remember what we talked about, which wouldn't have been much in English anyway, but having to use other means of communication was really fun and interesting. We both had a love of looking at the sky and that was a nice bonus. Four hours went by like half an hour. I had to tear myself away when I realized how late it was.
We were holding hands by then and it just happened naturally. I gave her one nice kiss and decided I'd best do the right thing and leave, even though it probably wouldn't have been a problem to stay. We laughed because we got across the point that it didn't take words to say that we had a good time, which was nice, and I was able to score a date with her for the next night without knowing the proper word for it. I drove home on Cloud 9.
We went out for dinner the next night and we decided that the next day we wouldn't wait until dark to get together so we got together the next day, and the next and the next. I was starting to see a pattern. I did the usual things I'd have done anyway- hanging out with friends, eating dinner with the folks and going to parties and such, except that I was accompanied by this amazing woman. Everybody loved her, and chipped in on her informal English lessons. Mary Jo seemed to enjoy every minute of it and she was soaking up all that she could.
A funny thing happened when I took her to see an American movie one night. We went to see Jaws, and it doesn't get more American than that. It was still in its first run in theaters and every show was packed. That afternoon I tried to explain to her what the movie was about but all I did was make her think it was a movie about a fish, although I didn't find that out until after the movie. In a way it was about a fish, but not quite like she pictured. She'd never heard about the movie and I suppose she was expecting a documentary or something.
We smoked some weed before the movie, only for Mary Jo this time was different. I'd just gotten some fine Colombian pot, and she'd never smoked Colombian before. Compared to all but the best Mexican, Colombian was in a different Universe, and way more powerful. I assumed she'd smoked Colombian, and it didn't occur to me how stoned she'd get if she'd never smoked it before, and sure enough she got across to me that she was really high. She was enjoying herself though and we went into the theater. I grabbed some sodas and popcorn and we went in It was completely packed but we found two seats. She giggled and whispered something that I think roughly translated to "I'm stoned out of my gourd" in Spanish.
Everything was fine until Bruce the shark first raised his head out of the water when the guy was tossing chum into the water. Mary Jo wasn't expecting that and she screamed at the top of her lungs. She grabbed my arm and buried her head in my shoulder and she was muttering in Spanish. It was so classic I couldn't help but laugh. I could understand her surprise, especially considering the fact that she thought it was a movie about an ordinary fish. Back then movies were like a giant party and sometimes people would cut up anyway, so poor Mary Jo's outburst didn't bother anyone. In fact I think most of them were entertained by it if anything. I put my arms around her and told her it was okay.
Most of the people there had already seen the movie at least once, so it wasn't like she was ruining anything. They figured it out pretty quickly and people were patting her on the shoulder and telling her it was okay. It was great. That is until the shark popped up again. She screamed and started taking turns cussing and praying in Spanish, to Mother Mary I think. Bless her heart. There were a few more chuckles and pats on the shoulder. It was almost like part of the movie and everyone was great about it. Maybe Jaws wasn't the best movie to take her to see. We ended up having a great time though. We had a serious case of the munchies so we went to the store and grabbed some things and I took her back to Jeff's to fix a late snack.
Jeff was up so he joined us. Mary Jo tried to relate her harrowing experience by miming and saying "BIG FISH" (Jeff laughed) and things in Spanish. It was hilarious. I mimed smoking a joint to Jeff and pointed to Maria and he laughed. I told Jeff I'd just gotten some good C-bo so we had a few puffs and stayed up until almost morning. I was thinking that night how cool it was to see the movie Jaws through someone else's eyes, as someone who knew nothing about the movie beforehand and truly experienced it right in the moment. That's an interesting thing. I bet not many watched Jaws so utterly unprepared, as Mary Jo had. They worked so hard to keep details about the movie secret during production so everyone would truly be shocked, but it didn't get more pure and innocent as Mary Jo seeing it. I bet Spielberg would've been interested in seeing her reaction.
The same sort of thing continued over the next few weeks. Her English was getting much better and I was liking her more each day. It was great that I was friends with Jeff's family because it was no big deal if I was over there a lot, and they trusted me to take care of their temporary foster child when we went somewhere. I'd stay late after dinner and I wouldn't always leave at 3am. Being with her was amazing, and I'll leave it at that. I took her to the river and to my friends' houses and to funky little stores and restaurants, to the Tree Fort to wherever else I could think of. She came to a couple of band practices and she loved it. Her finding out that I played drums in a band in America didn't hurt matters either. The more words she learned the easier it was for her to tell me things, but we'd hardly been able to communicate at all at first, so I felt like we came by our attraction to each other naturally, and it was getting stronger.
But then Dick raised his ugly head again, and, spoiler alert, this is where the story gets sad. What happened next was like something out of a Medieval movie or something. Dick had called her at Jeff's a few times and asked her out but she politely refused. Since he couldn't have her he did the unthinkable. He managed to convince mommy and daddy (who no doubt contributed heavily to the church) to convince the church people that Mary Jo's experience in America would be enriched if she spent the last few weeks of her stay with a different family, and to our horror they agreed. They sent a car for Mary Jo and took her away in tears.
Dick lived in a huge multi-story stone house, and they'd literally locked Mary Jo in a room on the third floor. It was like a bad dream. I'd try to call but Dick was trying to cut off all contact between us, and he'd gotten his family in on it. Occasionally she'd sneak off to a phone for a few minutes and call me, but even the maids were keeping a close eye on her so usually we'd get cut off. One night I went over to the house and tossed pebbles at her window. She leaned her head out from three stories up. She was quietly crying and asking why this was happening. It wasn't long before someone saw what was happening. Dick and two of his brothers came outside and threatened to kick my ass and call the police. I wouldn't leave so Dick went back inside and came out holding the phone, an old land line with a long extension cord, and he already had the cops on the line. I was trespassing if nothing else and so I reluctantly left.
The next days and weeks were agony. I was getting a realization of just how cruel these certain people could be. As much as I was hurting to see her and trying to figure out how to rig a rope ladder, I could only imagine how horrible it was for her. Here she'd been having a blast and hanging out with truly good people, not to mention smoking weed and seeing Jaws, and now she was literally locked in a tower. It broke my heart. What must she think of people in this country? I wouldn't have blamed her if she never wanted to learn another word in English besides "Assholes" or set foot in America again.
Of course I tried to think of anything and everything I could possibly do to free the princess but there was nothing I could do. After another visit they took out a restraining order on me. All we could do was sneak in 15 minutes of conversation when no one was guarding the phone. I couldn't see her beautiful face or her gestures or her smile. I couldn't kiss her. I made it clear that this situation was the exception rather than the rule, but that didn't ease the pain. We wanted to see each other but we couldn't. The bad guys had taken us on and they'd won, and we never saw it coming. The last three weeks or so of her stay...well, it still bothers me to this day.
Finally it was time for her to go back home. I was beside myself being bummed but I was also happy that she was going to escape her American prison. The very thought of it still chaps my ass. Anyway I found out when the plane was going to be leaving and I said I'd see her at the airport. I knew that not only Dick would be there but he'd bring some family along. I knew he'd do everything he could to keep us apart, even to say goodbye. Sure enough he showed up with two brothers and a sister, his mother and father and for good measure his grandmother...and Mary Jo.
I was waiting when they arrived and I saw them from a long way away. They got closer and Mary Jo saw me and tried to run to me but they were ready for that and they stopped her. She burst into tears and I started walking over to her. Dick walked out and blocked my way. He had about 3' of height and 45lbs of wight over me and his arms were out and his fists balled up, but I wasn't about to let him stop me. I'm a lover not a fighter and I've only been in about two fights in my whole life, but I was so fired-up that I seriously doubt he could've stopped me. I had the power of love on my side and he was just a rich asshole.
He crossed his arms and stood between Mary Jo and me, while his brothers closed in the flanks. I told him I was going to give Mary Jo a proper goodbye and he told me I wasn't, so I told him that if he tried to stop me I'd do whatever it took to knock him down, and that I'd do my best to make sure he wouldn't get up for a while. I was fixin' to put his lights out. He stood there for a few seconds staring me down but apparently he knew I was serious, and he wisely backed off. Mary Jo and I ran to each other. She was crying but trying to smile at the same time, and I imagine I probably had a tear or two too. I grabbed her tightly like I had in the movie theater when the shark popped up and scared the bejesus out of her. I gave her a kiss, finally.
We had about 15 minutes before the flight so we went over to a quiet table. Nobody bothered us, but I did notice the whole family staring at us in silence. It was creepy but it told me something else about these people- the elites, aka the ones who call the shots in this world...not only are they truly cruel and inhuman and even evil, but apparently genuine love was something they didn't understand. It was impossible the whole time to ignore them all just looking at us in silence. It fascinated them but they were completely blank...no emotion on their faces. They'd seen it...but never felt it. It was fucked-up.
We sat and talked until it was time for her to go. I asked for forgiveness for the people of this country in general, and even the bad people, and she understood. I told her how much I'd enjoyed being with her but she told me that she knew that already, and that she had enjoyed every momento being with me too, and that she wished it could've been the whole time and that she hated to leave. That was nice. She thanked me for showing her America, or at least the fun side, and for helping her with her English, which she'd done very well with, and for spending time with her. We stood up and had one last long kiss and held onto each other as long as we could.
We agreed to write and they announced her flight and we said goodbye. She turned back to look at me and we held each other's gaze until she disappeared down the tunnel. And yes, I stayed and stood at the window and waved and blew kisses to her after she took her seat, and I didn't leave until the plane was just a dot in the sky. Was it just like a movie? Yes it was. Does this sound cheesy and cutsie-wootsie? Maybe, but I don't care. I'd just experienced something intensely happy and intensely sad at the same time, and she was leaving on a jet plane. I turned around and went home.
The epilogue is fairly typical for this type of story I suppose...we wrote regularly for a time and then slowed and eventually stopped. We kept it going longer than most I think. We wrote for almost two years and the invites flew for me to visit her and for her to come back for another visit. I almost went to visit her and I even got a passport but then the music thing started to take off on weekends plus I was in my first year of college and knew I couldn't go until the next Summer, but then I got busy and it didn't happen. Who knows...I might have decided to stay, and I think that that thought scared me a little bit because all of my friends and my music was here, but I knew I was crazy enough about Mary Jo that I'd have definitely been tempted.
I tried to get her to move here several times and she wanted to do that but she was receiving tuition for college. We both scrambled to try to find her some sort of scholarship here but we couldn't do it in time, so she stayed in Mexico. I'm pretty sure we could've been happy together, and possibly forever. I thought about that a lot back then and I still think about it when I think about it...was it the fact that she seemed to possess the qualities I love in a woman- kindness, fun, loving, having a good sense of humor, appreciating music and Nature and good friends and things like that, or was it the fact that she was super-beautiful and had a perfect body and was the prize every boy wanted- the hot exchange student?
Certainly that didn't hurt but it's the first thing. Her vibe...her energy or whatever you want to call it was amazing, and that includes every woman I've ever met. She was smart, interesting, pleasant, kind and generous, and she had a passion for the things in life that really matter. I've definitely met American women who are like that, but very few quite like Mary Jo. Plus she smoked weed occasionally although like me she made good grades in school, and was always eager to learn new things.
I wish we could have found a way to get back together a few years later when it would make more sense to make plans for a future together, but eventually we lost touch. I think about Maria Jose, aka Mary Jo sometimes and I wonder how she's doing. I'm guessing she made someone a wonderful wife. I hope she found someone who can appreciate her, and for way more than just her beauty, and who loves her and treats her well. People are people, and from everything I learned about her she was one of the good ones.
I held onto her letters and only recently lost them. They were wonderful. They were a mixture of English and a little Spanish and an occasional drawing when she couldn't find the right words for something. I looked forward to every one. She signed each one the same way- "One kiss, Mary Jo." Cheers Maria Jose. You are amazing.
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