On the Banks of the Ohio

So it was last July whilst queued-up in suffocating heat, waiting to board the Euro-Tunnel train back to Britain, that my glance fell upon one of the uniformed young women, directing cars aboard the upper deck of the lead carriage.

Admiring her quite obviously youthful figure as we inched our way along the platform, I had almost drawn level with her, when she turned towards me, holding up one hand to indicate we should stop, before they commenced loading the lower deck. No more than six feet from me now, it was all I could do to suppress a cry of disbelief. The same cheeky face, shoulder-length blonde hair and fine yet quite prominent eyebrows. Even with the realization that it wasn't her, my mind nevertheless replayed scenes from that hot summer interlude not so many years ago.

Having by necessity to attend a business seminar in Cincinnati mid July that year and with a week or so to kill before flying on to join a marketing delegation in New York, I decided to "discover" Ohio, heading east along Highway 52 in the general direction of Portsmouth then north to Columbus and east to Youngstown via Pittsburgh PV. The plan was good, the reality something else.

Just twenty miles out from Cincinnati, New Richmond typifies small-town America. The quaintest of villages and with a population of barely 2200 people including just five permanently
stationed Police officers, let’s just say that rush-hour had yet to prove an issue.

Peckish, having passed-up on breakfast, I decided this was as good a spot as any to indulge my stomach lining. Pulling off the highway that runs pretty much through the town center, I cruised a couple of side-streets until a cute little eatery called "The Landing" took my fancy on Front Street.

Devoid of customers, I had the pick of the table settings and chose one set in to a small niche near the panoramic window that overlooked Front Street itself. Clean and bright, "The Landing" was quite obviously a family business to judge by the many framed photographs around the wall. I was studying one that might well have been the building itself at the turn of the century, when a glass and jug of iced water were set down in front of me, by the most appealing of young ladies.

"Can I get you something?" she smiled sweetly, those finely shaped dark eyebrows suggesting that perhaps the shoulder-length, rather pretty blonde hair was not her natural birthright, not that this could ever have detracted from the overall package you understand. The only thing I wanted her to get me right that second was a room we might share across the way at the small cottage that I noted was advertising itself as a bed and breakfast stop-over. I noticed the name-tag just above the curve of her right breast. What I would have given to be that pin!

"Well Amy," I said, "A plate of hotcakes and coffee might just about hit the spot."
She scribbled the order down on her pad and handed me another of those smiles that all but closed down my options for thinking straight. "Sure," she added, turning on her heels and thereby presenting me with a highly therapeutic aspect of her shapely little bottom, covered that it was unfortunately, by a tight skirt whose hemline one imagines, might in later years, dredge-up more victims than a Venus fly trap!

In her absence, I glanced once more at the many prints on display on the far wall also. One in particular stood out. Quite obviously a very recent picture of Amy herself, the girl slumped prettily in the chair, her legs draped over one arm. Dressed in her school uniform, the pose bridged the gap between innocence and provocative tease quite effortlessly. The top few buttons of her plain white blouse were undone allowing the material to gape slightly - if not suggestively then interestingly at least.

The close proximity of her delicate fingers handed one the impression that given the right script, she might be persuaded to undo a couple more. The tease-factor was heightened further in as much as her black and white check skirt exposed a sufficiency of the underside of both slim legs at that angle, so that in normal circumstances her panties would have been acutely visible, were not it for the winter cotton leggings she was wearing in the photo and which left the viewer simply to contemplate what might have been. Shoe-less and with one leg resting demurely across the other, she was an angel.

I was still pondering that which was hidden when my hotcakes made an appearance.

"Maple syrup?" she asked politely, proffering the easy-pour container on the tray she was holding.

"Oh yeah!" I replied. "What would hotcakes be without maple syrup?"

"You're not American are you?" she drawled. "Kind of a cute accent though...are you English?"

"Sorta," I answered, more than happy to engage her in whatever conversation was on offer. "Australian actually Amy - well, I was born in Britain but have lived in Sydney, Australia since I was eighteen."

Right at that moment another family walked in, totally icing the momentum and sat down at the table opposite. I had the impression Amy's preference was to stay and chat, though she muttered dutifully, "I'd better go get those people a menu." I could have watched that curvy retreat until those hotcakes were stone cold!

The arrival of my coffee presented one last small window of opportunity. Gazing outside, I made the comment that I might take a stroll down to the Ohio river and check out the scenery, it appearing to be little more than a shortish walk from the restaurant itself.

"Rivers up again," she said, following my glance and looking quite concerned. "Flooded so bad last year - way up Front street, she gestured up towards Quarry Street and the Interstate. "Its soo beautiful though," she added as an afterthought, "There's this real neat lookout just a-ways upriver - you can see for miles across the Kentucky flatlands."

So pretty was she at that moment, my heart ached for her and I yearned to hold her to me, fully oblivious to the chronic age-difference and the fact that she was probably no more than a few years older than my youngest daughter.

"I'd really like to see it Amy," I told her, "But I really don't have the time to go looking. Maybe next time I'm through this way?" Even as I spoke the words I felt their emptiness. Reality dictated that I would in all probability, never set foot in New Richmond again. For the merest fraction of a second, she looked at me... deep inside.

"I'm off at twelve," she whispered, "I could show you!"

Hardly able to believe what she was saying, I must have looked like a tongue-tied juvenile. I glanced at my watch - it was already 10.50. "I'd be honored sweetie," I replied. "Want me to pick you up curbside?" She nodded just as a slightly embittered male voice called out "You gonna take our order Miss or what?" Obviously embarrassed, she left the table.

By the time I finished my coffee and settled-up the bill including a healthy tip, there was but fifty
minutes or so to account for. I figured I would go fill up the rental car and check out a few of the shops along Main Street.

Even as I pulled the Pontiac over, right outside "The Landing," Amy had stepped out on to the sidewalk and was walking to the car. I leaned across and opened the passenger door. Sliding onto the bench seat in that ultra-short skirt did wonders for the visuals. I don't think she even realized. Having changed into smart casual clothes, she was a total teenage dream. Whatever delicate scent that was also, merely heightened the overall effect. Thank God I had taken out full travel health insurance.

"So, which way sweetheart?" I asked, forcing my eyes back on the roadway as opposed to allowing them their natural inclination of focusing at key points along those wonderfully slim legs.

"Ohh, back that way," she exclaimed, pointing east along Front Street. I performed a quick u-turn, which in the total absence of any traffic was anything but a challenge.

"How old are you Amy?" I asked, trying not to make it sound overly intrusive.

"I've just turned eighteen," she barely whispered, but then blushing momentarily as I glanced across at her, "I hope you don't think I make a habit of doing this er..."

"Noel," I smiled. "And no, I'm sure you don't Amy. I would like to ask you just one question though if I may."

"What's that?" she replied softly.

"I'm just curious why you decided to make that offer to me sweetie? You're very young and it's taking a big risk. I'm sure your parents would not approve."

Now she really was blushing. "I don't honestly know," she muttered. "Something about you. I knew I'd be safe and I just wanted to take you there and show you the river."

I smiled at her once again. "Well your instincts serve you well Amy. Yes you are safe - well unless I stop taking my medication that is!" She giggled delightfully.

"To be honest," I continued, I have three lovely daughters at home just like you sweetheart. One fourteen, another sixteen and the eldest just about your age. She's in twelfth grade, same as you I'm guessing?"

Amy nodded, before asking, "No boys?"

"Yep, one of them too," I grinned. "Chris is the eldest. He's nineteen and just finished High School. We were now at the end of Front street and crossing over to Susanna Way.

"We follow this road right to the end," she announced, "Then I'll show you where the lookout is."

"Sounds good," I replied, easing my foot off the gas. It's remarkably easy to hit fifty on an empty straight road. Well as it happened, Amy really didn't have to direct me to the lookout at all, since Susanna Way comes to an abrupt end before veering north into Augustus Street. Right at that point a spur road leads south almost to the river's edge. To the right a rather attractive lookout has been built up in a lightly treed area which obviously affords welcome relief mid-summer. Nosing-in to the deserted parking area, I killed the motor. I could see why she had brought me here.

The sun glinted off the Ohio, and beyond as Amy had said, the gentle Kentucky plains stretched as far as the eye could see. A gentle heat-haze wavered marginally above ground level, imperceptibly distorting one's vision of the flatlands the far side of the river. One or two private boats were navigating their way east, adding to the scenic tranquility.

"Its very beautiful here Amy," I muttered, knowing that this was an understatement of some magnitude. She looked across at me and with no reason for doing so - I held out my hand to her. Having equally no reason to take it, she grasped my hand softly and I pulled her to me.