The next day at school, Jean was occasionally looking at me and smiling, it was obvious that she found this whole thing funny. It only served to anger me and I was half tempted to start walking back  home by way of Harford Road. But my heart dictated that I give things; one more try.

Still not sure that this was going to work, at the end of the day I headed to go down the steps, but I wasn't coming up with any ideas and had dawdled. When Jean saw me, she said, "Well! Come on boy!" as she made that lease gesture.

I said, "Sure!" and started laughing. Jean didn't seem that amused and had a puzzled expression on her face. Still trying to think, I was falling behind and Jean would turnaround and tell me to, "Come on!" Still I couldn't think of any ideas.

It wasn't till I got to the house where the lady was gardening out in front the day before. Though the lady was not there today, I picked up my pace and started walking up to Jean. Jean must have heard my footsteps; looking back she found me about seven feet away and yelled, "Stop!" I ignored her and she yelled it again, "Stop! I told you to stop! Why aren't you listening?"

I walked right up to her and stopped a couple of feet to her. I took another step and she backed up a step. I got a kick out of this and did it a couple of more times. She was getting upset, so I stopped and said, "Jean, I want to carry you books home from school for you."

Jean started to go, "Uh... Uh..." and muttered quietly, "No?" She then looked at me and matter of fact said, "No."

"But Jean, I want to do this for you."

"NO," Jean said it more forcefully.

Then somewhat frustrated at her lack of understanding, I did the only thing that I could think of doing... "Come on Jean, please let me carry your books, I really what to do this for you and hope that you will let me."

With this Jean busted out with the biggest smile I had ever seen and with the loudest of volume, yelled at the top of her lungs, "No!" I tried to reason by making various arguments with each one landing a resounding, "No!" She was further frustrating me by now making body gestures. Finally she ended the argument with a chiding, "I'm a woman and I carry my own books!"

This totally infuriated me and I fired back, "Oh, yea! Well I'm a man and I am going to carry your books for you!" With that I ripped the books from her hands, but I possessed them for only a split second and a couple of inches.

She was able to rip them, back out of my hands and gaining full control of them; she then punched me in the chest as hard as she could. Not thinking, I punched her back and we were now facing off in circles, with our respective set of books in one hand and fists in the other, with me wondering, "What in the world is happening?"

One thing for sure, I didn't want to get into a fight with her; first, I loved her and second, she hit me the hardest that I ever had been and I didn't think I would win a fist fight with her. Not wanting a punishing outcome, but one that would have me carrying her books home for her I garnered the thought that I should pray to God for help, "God! Please give me some words to fix this mess."

I looked her in the eyes and said, "But Jean... I love you!"

Her mouth dropped, her eyes bulged out and she put her shaking hand on her head, looked up to the heavens and yelled out, "Oh, my God!" Next she started pacing back and forth, occasionally stuttering out, "I, I think this will be OK ... I, I'm think about what to do ... I think that I got it... Oh yea, get across the street..."

She then looked at me and yelled, "Get Across the street!" with enough force that I immediately jumped off of the side walk and into the gutter. "I said, Get across the street!" as I took another step. "Oh, do what I say!"

I dragged my feet as I was thinking, "Oh god! I punched a girl and she is going to put me on the other side of the street and run home to tell her parents that I hit her and boy will I be in trouble..."

Jean interrupted that thought, "Oh, come on! Hurry up!" Jean was now jumping up and down and pointing to the other side of the street.

I regained my thought with, "Well her parents are going to tell mine and everybody will want to know why I punched her, 'Because I love her?' Oh, god; am I in trouble!"

I finally made to the other side of the street, expecting her to run home, but instead she gave me this prolonged look, broke out with the most beautiful smile that I had ever seen, squeezed her books, ever so slightly and blushed. She then told me, "Mike, if you really love me, you will walk me home from that side of the street, everyday!"

Well that wasn't what I wanted or how love is supposed to be done, but that is good enough for me. At least I wasn't in trouble...