POTATO ISLAND VALENTINE
by Stumblin' Jimmy Watermelon
t was a couple of Februarys ago that I told y’all a story about a number of Valentine’s Day surprises I had attempted for my wife, “Ghee.” They were sad miscalculations of well meant intentions. However misguided, all were launched in the efforts of love. The story ended with an idea that I had hatched to take “Ghee” for a Valentine camping trip out on Potato Island. Spiffed up with a good cleaning, sofa cushions and a pvc framed tarp for a canopy, we would traverse the waterway to our destination in my old jon-boat. I “billed” it to her as a “luxury cruise” and our port of call an “exotic and romantic island get-away.” That, and “won’t Ghee be surprised,” was about where I left it. Well it has struck me that since I had told on myself so much already, I ought to let y’all in on the rest of the story.
By February 14th I had everything in place out on the island. There was the scented bug spray just in case and the carefully picked soda drinks of her favorite flavor (that she has always persisted in calling “pop”). There were the boards I had on hand to lay out at the point of our debarkation, so Ghee wouldn’t sink into the mud. There was the freshly patched up tent with spread pine straw underneath to soften the floor up just right. I’d cleaned up the grill an’ topped off its propane tank to make sure that all the food I cooked, got cooked. I even brought an old rope hammock to hang between two pine trees out there for a romantic “sunset moment.” I swear, in my own way, I tried my hardest to get it all right. This was gonna be the Valentine’s Day that would take her to the moon. All of it, out there on Potato Island.
Now Ghee is, thankfully, a right stalwart little soul. To her credit, she has most times tried reasonably hard to see things from the skew of my eyes. Ghee refers to it as, “my bent perspective.” With that in mind, and weighing my past history of Valentine days gone asunder, it was no surprise that on the morning of this 14th, her movements through the house, from bedroom to kitchen, were cautious ones. She peered ahead from side to side as she crossed each threshold, traversing one room to the next. With a sigh of relief, she eased into her chair at the kitchen table for the Valentine’s Day breakfast I always cooked for her; blueberry waffles and bacon. I could hardly go wrong. Only after the last fork full, did I break the news of our “luxury cruise and exotic/romantic island getaway.” Ghee gave me her sweetest smile and of course I overlooked its ever so slightly curdled little corners.
Ghee laughed along nervously as I loaded our packs and food into the boat. I was sure it was her anticipation. She was determined to try and be “a trooper” through it all.
As the waves lapped the bow of our boat, spraying a bit here and there over the gunnels, I wasn’t sure, but I thought that there was a tad more color in her cheeks than the day’s meager sun could account for. The boards worked almost perfectly, and in any event, the mud wasn’t that deep, and I had it washed off of us in no time. Boy I’m tellin’ you, that wife of mine was truly determined to see this thing through.
Ghee’s face didn’t start to crack and eyes fill with tears until several hours later. I saw it coming as I was setting up the grill for hot dogs and corn fritters. She was sitting on a stump a little across the way; me (as was she) in old shorts, with the clothes we’d worn over hanging on a make-shift line to dry, smoking grill and old patched tent, all in her fore view. I guess for her that moment’s perspective was bleak.
As quickly as I could, I launched over and lifted her up in a hug. “It would all be all right,” I told her. “Just wait and see.” That “little strength” and hope that I have always loved about her began to pull through. Though it was still through tears, she smiled. I know now my real surprise should have come sooner, but it was my grand finale. So I suggested we stretch out the old rope hammock and hang its metal rings from hooks I’d set in the trunks of the two pines. “You hang your end from that hook I’ve set in over there and I’ll do the other. Soon we’ll lay out and swing and watch a beautiful sunset made just for you.” There was still plenty of light in that afternoon and it only took a glance at the hook for Ghee’s eyes to catch the glint. It took a bit longer for the “picture” to sink in. I’d hung my best hope on that hook. It was a diamond ring that I’d saved what seemed like forever for.
So together we hung that old hammock and as the sun went down we settled in. The breeze shifted, the skies cleared and that moon rose so big and bright it was as though we were only a step away. Ghee and I held each other close. Oh, and what did Ghee give me? More every day that I could have ever hoped for. Perspective, bent or otherwise, you gotta love it. Happy Valentine’s Day y’all.
