Heartbreaker

Jimmy found me on one of the social networking sites. He’s a couple years my junior and was my next door neighbor when we were growing up.

His older sister contacted me a few years ago. She was always vivacious and fun, and still appears to be. When she didn’t mention Jimmy in our first few exchanges, I asked. He’s estranged from her and their mother. Never was a father in the picture for very long.

Not a big surprise that she didn’t bring him up. He was a bright kid, although a bit odd and up tight. Always involved in issues. Think of the guy George got into it with over snack chip dipping at a funeral on “Seinfeld;” that’s him, right down to appearance, mannerisms and even the nickname. I was the “big kid” next door and realized that had some importance to him. I tolerated his quirks and played bodyguard, mindful of his lack of a male parent. His varied pursuits made him interesting, anyway.

His second email to me asked if I had any idea what became of Sarah. He'd really like to find out about her. I groaned out loud.

She was my neighbor on the other side, and his age. Chronologically, that is. Mentally, she was a canny and manipulating maneater, a less theatrical Mae West. She exuded savvy, self confidence and sexuality like a bonfire emits heat.

Physically, she also resembled Ms. West, although more natural. She had honey-colored hair, olive skin, sapphire eyes and a smile that could light the Rose Bowl.

I had a brief fling with her in the puppy love vein but, fortunately, moved on to a girl my own age. Even in my callow youth, I recognized that messing with her was simply flying too close to the sun. If I hadn’t pulled out of that dive, I’m sure I would’ve been one of many shattered hearts left in her wake. Even with a couple years on her, I was close to overmatched. She could cock her head flirtatiously, flash that smile fraught with promise of unplumbed delights and own your soul. If I hadn’t escaped, I’d be wondering about her, too, almost fifty years later, like Jimmy. I’m certain he is far from the only one who remains under her spell.

But, he did pique my curiosity. I had tracked down my high school sweetheart (as told in a previous blog) and take a little pride in investigative skills. I could probably locate Sarah if I wanted to.

I did and I did. I have met or known of very few women that outright intoxicating and it seemed worth a go. It took a while, but I ferreted out a few sites that contained some information about her, including one with a photo.

Going into the search, I assured myself it would be “safe.” Surely time had taken its toll and, at 59 or so, she had lost her hypnotic powers. But, there they were, beaming right through the flat screen.

In the picture, she’s posed in front of a mountain range in Wyoming, hands on hips, elbows akimbo, head thrown back and to the side, eyes smoldering and lips parted in that killer smile. She’s wearing a t-shirt and jeans, and I mean wearing them. Not possible at this age, but there it is. The sheen of her eyes and hair remain undiminished. I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, she has dozens of cowboys falling over each other to do her bidding.

The question is, do I tip off Jimmy and make him a present of this data that he desires? While he still seems on the edge, he’s managed to cobble together a small business and family. But, I could see him chucking it all to pursue the white whale, so to speak. On the other hand, he’s an adult and can make his own decisions.

What to do, what to do.