I Remember...

Sometimes something so small can bring evoke a memory. For me, it's the smell of Nag Champa or Egyptian Musk or Sandalwood or whatever scent it was that Armstrong wore.

And whenever I smell that pungent body oil I remember how I met Armstrong, a friend of a friend I met one day while cutting school. I remember how deep his voice was. Too deep for him to call my house since I was thirteen and he was seventeen. I remember my mother forbidding me to see him since he was older and most likely sexually experienced.

I remember how I ignored my mother's warning and saw Armstrong anyway.  We lived in the same neighborhood, he went to my neighborhood high school and I was bound to see him again anyhow. I remember how cute he was... light skin, curly hair, big brown eyes, full pink lips, and dimples.

I remember how he invited me to his house one Sunday. I ate my first vegetarian meal since his family were strict vegans. I remember how I met every one in his home since they all sat down and ate together (My family only did this on holidays.) I remember this was the first time I heard Black people speaking German because his grandfather was German. I remember after the meal when we sat in front of his house and kissed. I remember sitting in between his legs. He lived on the same block where they shot the opening scene of the movie Maid in Manhattan. I remember how he removed the earrings from my left ear, all three earrings. I remember how he whispered in my left ear with that deep voice of his. I remember how he licked my left ear from the lobe to the helix, the scapha, concha, external meatus, tragus and everywhere in between. I remember how he bent my ear and licked right in the back... you know... right there. I remember how he blew on my ear to dry it. I remember how other parts of me could not be blown dry. I remember how he put back all three of my earrings. I remember thinking that my mother's concerns of me being thirteen and dating someone seventeen were on point.

I remember asking one guy who wore that same fragrance what the name was but for some reason I cannot remember that - just its sweet, lingering scent. Every time I smell it, which is every once in a while, I remember that Sunday afternoon. That was over twenty years ago and I remember that like it was yesterday...