Past Prince - Daredevil Richie
It is Thursday around noon and I'm sitting in the dining room by the window reading a book. I look up out of the window and see a perfect 6 foot 2 inches male form in a pair of navy shorts and white fitting T-shirt walking towards our gate. Well-toned body, broad chest and shoulders...I take in the suggestion of a firm six-pack beneath the slim T-shirt, which tapers down to a small waist. Greatest legs I ever saw on a man, Greek god-like, taking long, effortless strides…head tilted slightly to the right. And he's walking towards our gate.
It is Richard. And he's coming to see me.
It has been 7 months of 'being together' and I still can't believe that this magnificent piece of work comes by to see me, spends time with me, plays hooky from college in order to come be with me!
He should be in class at the moment. As usual I'll make a half-hearted attempt at being disapproving that he's cutting class, but the smile that greets me when I open the door for him melts that resolve every time.
Now, how did Richard happen?
I met Richard when I was 10 years old. He was 8. His family lived across the road from my cousin. His 13-year-old sister, Jenny, was my friend. He was always nice to me…if he bought 5 pieces of candy, he’d give me 4 and keep 1 for himself, which always amazed me for I was positive I would never do the same thing in his place.
For the next 6 years Richard was the naughty boy who was incredibly nice to me, my ocean-swimming buddy, but most of all Jenny’s brother. For some no particular reason, I didn’t visit with my cousin for the next 3 years until I turned 19.
Shortly after my arrival, I went across the road to Jenny’s house. At lunchtime the door opened and in strode this tall, beautifully built man with a face that looked amazingly like Richard’s. What? Who was this? What happened to the naughty little boy? Could 3 years really have transformed that little boy to this? It was in that moment that I understood for the first time what a great physique for a man was. And in the same moment the way I looked at him altered.
A few days later, I jokingly began to refer to Richard as ‘my boyfriend’, and what do you know? He was flattered, even a little shy, and before I knew what had happened people, including Jenny, began to refer to me as Richard’s girlfriend.
Even though we hadn’t really declared that we were seeing each other, Richard just slipped into the protective and caring role of a boyfriend.
How would I describe Richard? He is everything that I’m not. Impulsive. Openly passionate about the things he cares about, and unapologetic about it. Cheeky. Loving. Proud. Generous to a fault, towards people he likes. A dare-devil. His driving when sober is the stuff of traffic policemen’s nightmares. He’s a very very careful driver when drunk. All the policemen in town knew him for his driving. And that is not an exaggeration. Indeed, whenever he saw policemen he would accelerate and go round the bend with a noisy skid of tyres, just to give them something to talk about.
Richard, together with his other daredevil friends would swim across the sometimes shark-prone distance between Fort Jesus and the Mombasa mainland, and back. He happily attended a few skinny-dipping parties and dove off the balcony of an apartment into a swimming pool. He couldn’t have been more different from me if he tried.
I once saw a really really nice leather and canvas satchel, more expensive than I could afford. I wanted it with all my heart, but alas, I just didn’t have the money to buy it. Sighing, I left the shop and thought, oh well, it wasn’t meant to be.
A few afternoons later Richard came to me and said “Let’s go fetch your satchel.”
Unbeknownst to me, he had gone off to work all sorts of odd jobs, he called in debts and favours, and did whatever he had to do to get enough money for the bag.
So, what happened between Richard and I? Nothing defined. No break-up point. Just as our relationship began in a loose kind of way so did it end. I went off to college in a different town, and the dating relationship was just no longer in existence.
To this day, though, I would do almost anything for Richard. No matter what he does, no matter how much he makes a mess of things, he can count on me should he need me.
He now has a daughter. He said to me recently that the birth of his daughter cast an entirely different light on the way he lived his life. All he’s working for now is to ensure he can provide for her. Much as he lives a saner life now, the cheeky, risk-loving Richard shows up occasionally - in a comment or a certain look in his eye.
It is Richard. And he's coming to see me.
It has been 7 months of 'being together' and I still can't believe that this magnificent piece of work comes by to see me, spends time with me, plays hooky from college in order to come be with me!
Now, how did Richard happen?
I met Richard when I was 10 years old. He was 8. His family lived across the road from my cousin. His 13-year-old sister, Jenny, was my friend. He was always nice to me…if he bought 5 pieces of candy, he’d give me 4 and keep 1 for himself, which always amazed me for I was positive I would never do the same thing in his place.
For the next 6 years Richard was the naughty boy who was incredibly nice to me, my ocean-swimming buddy, but most of all Jenny’s brother. For some no particular reason, I didn’t visit with my cousin for the next 3 years until I turned 19.
Shortly after my arrival, I went across the road to Jenny’s house. At lunchtime the door opened and in strode this tall, beautifully built man with a face that looked amazingly like Richard’s. What? Who was this? What happened to the naughty little boy? Could 3 years really have transformed that little boy to this? It was in that moment that I understood for the first time what a great physique for a man was. And in the same moment the way I looked at him altered.
A few days later, I jokingly began to refer to Richard as ‘my boyfriend’, and what do you know? He was flattered, even a little shy, and before I knew what had happened people, including Jenny, began to refer to me as Richard’s girlfriend.
Even though we hadn’t really declared that we were seeing each other, Richard just slipped into the protective and caring role of a boyfriend.
How would I describe Richard? He is everything that I’m not. Impulsive. Openly passionate about the things he cares about, and unapologetic about it. Cheeky. Loving. Proud. Generous to a fault, towards people he likes. A dare-devil. His driving when sober is the stuff of traffic policemen’s nightmares. He’s a very very careful driver when drunk. All the policemen in town knew him for his driving. And that is not an exaggeration. Indeed, whenever he saw policemen he would accelerate and go round the bend with a noisy skid of tyres, just to give them something to talk about.
Richard, together with his other daredevil friends would swim across the sometimes shark-prone distance between Fort Jesus and the Mombasa mainland, and back. He happily attended a few skinny-dipping parties and dove off the balcony of an apartment into a swimming pool. He couldn’t have been more different from me if he tried.
I once saw a really really nice leather and canvas satchel, more expensive than I could afford. I wanted it with all my heart, but alas, I just didn’t have the money to buy it. Sighing, I left the shop and thought, oh well, it wasn’t meant to be.
A few afternoons later Richard came to me and said “Let’s go fetch your satchel.”
Unbeknownst to me, he had gone off to work all sorts of odd jobs, he called in debts and favours, and did whatever he had to do to get enough money for the bag.
So, what happened between Richard and I? Nothing defined. No break-up point. Just as our relationship began in a loose kind of way so did it end. I went off to college in a different town, and the dating relationship was just no longer in existence.
To this day, though, I would do almost anything for Richard. No matter what he does, no matter how much he makes a mess of things, he can count on me should he need me.
He now has a daughter. He said to me recently that the birth of his daughter cast an entirely different light on the way he lived his life. All he’s working for now is to ensure he can provide for her. Much as he lives a saner life now, the cheeky, risk-loving Richard shows up occasionally - in a comment or a certain look in his eye.
The things that never were are always beautiful precisely because they were not....
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