My introduction to Canadian education was a couple of beatings in the school yard.One of the school bullies did not like
my British accent.
The second time it happened,I was looking skyward from a prone
position,holding a bleeding nose,when a huge shadow blocked
out the sun.Everyone scattered except the one sitting on me.
A very large man,whom I couldn't see clearly against the sun, bodily lifted my tormenter off me and set him down and told him,in a gruff voice,to stay put.
Then,he set me on my feet and handed me a crumpled paper serviette to wipe my nose.He told me to go see the school nurse,then he turned to the bully.
I could see him now.He had dark red hair and freckles and blue eyes.His name was Mcgee.My dad knew him.(Everyone called him Red.)"Thankyou Mr.Mcgee."
He didn't answer.He was talking to my abuser.I heard him tell the boy,he'd be watching him.
A couple of days later,I spotted Mr Mcgee walking by the schoolyard.He stopped and waited till he got bully boy's attention. He pointed to his eye and then pointed at the boy and walked on.I saw him a few more times.He always did the same thing.I was never bothered again.
Perhaps you can understand why I came to believe that red haired men were my guardian angels,my lucky talismans.
I loved Red with the same passion as I loved my first rescuer.Only this time I determined to do something about it.I would marry him.I just had to grow up very fast.He already had a wife but that did not deter a nine year old.I still believed in magic and thought I could magic her away,or turn her into a
useful animal,like a pony.
I held on to my dream until I was nearly fourteen,although I didn't believe in magic any more.Red was the object of my fantasies.Then I noticed,that boys my age didn't smell as bad as they once did.I don't know if they bathed more or just used a lot of their dads' after shave lotions.The classroom reeked of English Leather and Aqua Velva.In any case they were much more attractive and Red retired to that place in my heart where my first hero lived.
I didn't see or hear from him for years.In truth,I kind of forgot him,then I read his obit in the local paper and wept my heart out for days.You never really forget your first love.
I remained attracted to red haired men,even though my first husband had jet black hair.That marriage was a complete disaster.I ran away as fast as I could.Where was a red haired hero when you needed him?.....
To be continued...
