Souvenirs I Still CherishHelen Stanberry’s Story as read by Lindsey Beth HummelChapter 3: RalphRalph Norris, my cousin, and the driver for the trip, was to my mind a rather handsome young man. He often seemed like Erroll Flynn, jumping into the car without opening the door, climbing up trees to get me a bird’s nest that I had fancied, and swimming out into a lake to retrieve my hat that had blown off. Regrettably, he was one of those handsome young men who believed that he was a handsome young man. Often as he was driving, he would reach across the seat and touch me. Not in a friendly cousin-to-cousin way. There was no doubt that his hands were prowling into forbidden territory.Sometimes (maybe more like often), his prowling hands did not bother me. In fact, his touch was rather pleasurable, and much more interesting than the scenery on some parts of the trip. All I had to do to stop it was to do a quick shiver, and the hand would be withdrawn.The chaperone, Mr. Eggers was in the narrow seat in the back and the Cord’s front seats were luxuriously high. It would be difficult for him to see the prowling hand. Besides, once he had lit one of his cigars, he was in his own smokie world, oblivious to everything else. It was in the small Maid-of-the-Mist boat at Niagara Falls that I allowed Ralph’s romantic advances to proceed beyond casual prowling. Mr. Eggers said he utterly hated boats and refused to join us on the excursion, so he was not along. Before you board, they make you put on these rubber rain coats and boots. For some reason, my rubber coat stuck to my blouse and did not go all the way down. Ralph, gentlemanly pulled it over my haunches. That touch stirred the deepest romantic urges in me. I turned around, put my arms around his neck and then kissed him.He was surprised but was not one to waste an opportunity. For the boat trip, we held hands, and snuggled so close that our raincoats rustled in unison. I do not remember how many more times we kissed, but I believe it was somewhere between ten million and infinity.We exited the excursion still holding hands. However, social reality re-emerged when we saw Mr. Eggers sitting on the dock. We both pretended that nothing had happened.

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