ONLY IN FLORIDA: Punkus revealed

Only in Florida would a vacation hotel install a Jacuzzi on an outside balcony. And that’s where Punkus and I, for a few days of spring break, spent the evenings lolling in the warm swirling water, staring at the huge moon over our heads, and listening to the soothing sloshing of a nearby sea against warm sands. Like most of our days together, we spent long hours just relaxing in each other’s company. Unlike many dramatic stories I have written of our affair, most of our days and nights then were spent quietly in love. We had no wildly erotic scenes in that Jacuzzi. Just the two of us silently watching the moon move across a darkened sky. If anything, once in a while our toes would touch in a flirting move and once in a while, our lips would softly touch. If any words were spoken, it would be Punkus sighing, “I’m so happy!” That was her favorite expression, spoken at any time of the day, in any place, on any occasion. Not “I love you” but “I am so happy!”

Punkus’s favorite activity was shopping—especially shopping for shoes. She had a passion for shoes—not buying them—but trying them on. Most of the time she wanted me along, I didn’t mind--just being with Punkus made me happy. I was even pleased when she asked my opinion of a pair she had tried on. She had lovely feet, and I had no problem giving my diplomatically, noncommittal judgment of her shoe choices! We once spent two hours in one Florida shoe outlet store without buying anything. But I didn’t mind! At the end of a long, shoe shopping spree we would arrive home with maybe one or two new purchases. And her predictable comment would always be, “I’m so happy!” Whether in a downtown bistro or a country bar, Punkus and I had the uncanny ability to carve out a “zone of quietude” for ourselves. The adjoining room could be filled with shouting revelers or ear-pounding music, but we always managed to find a booth where we could drink and, if not talk, at least absorb the atmosphere. Our favorite country restaurant and bar was a Caribbean-themed edifice, but we preferred sitting on an outside patio, away from the jangle of calypso beats, so we could sit, sip our umbrella-topped drinks, and talk. At the end of such “nights out” Punkus’s summary words were, “I’m so happy!”

PUNKUS IN HARLEM

PUNKUS IN HARLEM

You could say that Punkus and I grew up in the Bronx, New York although, as a matter of fact, I was born in Manhattan and she was born on the island of Jamaica.

Yet most of our early memories of each other concern Bronx locations. We first met when her mother and grandmother moved from Jamaica into a Union Avenue apartment where my best friend’s family lived. My family lived around the corner on 164th Street. I was a constant visitor to the Union Avenue home of my friend and since his mother was also from Jamaica, it was inevitable that the two families became acquainted. And it was inevitable, also, that I was introduced to Punkus’s family.

I was just 15 at the time, just entering DeWitt Clinton High School. Punkus was only ten years old so my interest in her at the time was like that of a little sister (I already had three younger sisters). But she soon became a special sister and she looked up to me as an older brother or even as a father figure, as her own father remained a divorced spouse in Jamaica. I took pleasure in showing her family familiar Bronx sites, which consisted mostly of the neighborhood soda fountains, movie theaters, beaches (mainly Orchard Beach), and of course the Bronx Zoo. Two of my favorite (black and white) photos of Punkus at this time I have lost, one of her dressed in a cowgirl outfit shooting a toy pistol I took at one of our park outings and the other of her dressed in Easter finery. The photos are gone but not my memories of those fleeting, youthful moments.

Those early outings with Punkus, although special to me, were not “dates” as we were always accompanied by either her mother, her grandmother or with my sisters. This platonic relationship lasted until the time I was drafted into the WW II Air Force at age eighteen—right out of high school. Punkus and I exchanged friendly letters during my four years of active service. When I returned home, the scenery in the Union Street area had remained pretty much as I had remembered. My best friend’s family (he had volunteered for the Marine Corps) still lived in the same apartment as did my family in their apartment around the corner. The only change I noticed was that Punkus had grown into a beautiful teen-ager!

Had Punkus lost the innocent, fun-loving qualities I found so appealing in years gone by, I probably would not have been romantically attracted to her. My wartime experiences with women had honed my ability to separate the flighty women from the serious ones. But as fortune would have it, I fell madly in love with my old friend. And she with me! So it was not long before we began going out on dates, this time solo! We revisited our old Bronx haunts—the theaters, the zoo, and the beach.

At some point in my return, I don’t know exactly when, I decided it was time to take Punkus on a date outside of the Bronx. And money-wise, the farthest I could take her out of the Bronx was across the river into Manhattan—specifically to Harlem. Which wasn’t an unlikely choice--at the time, Harlem was a hot-bed of exciting clubs. Punkus loved to dance, so we spent quite a number of hours in the Savoy Ballroom. I loved jazz, so we also were customers of places such as Small’s Paradise, Minton’s Playhouse, the Apollo theater, Well’s Chicken and Waffles for late morning breakfasts.

I wish I could end this story on a happy note, but you know what eventually happened to us. But wherever Punkus is today, I’m positive she remembers her visits to Harlem with me!