Location: Willow Beach COE Campground, "A little past Little Rock" (bonus points if you know the song).
Caution: this is not an RV traveling post so leave now if that is what you expect. If not, read on at your own risk.
As ya'll know, I've been in some campgrounds on this trip in which I couldn't get a good cell signal and without a cell signal, I don't have internet. Combine that lack of internet with a dwindling desire to explore those locations and I found myself taking longer walks around the campground. Just like me and "thinking benches", my walks are usually "thinking walks". Sometimes that thinking will take the form of a fictional short story. Of course, although fictional, there is always a large piece of truth in the story. This is one such story:
First and Last Freedoms
After
dinner, he walked up behind her chair and brushed her grey hair away from her
ear. He leaned over and kissed her gently on the cheek. No one in the room paid
much attention because this was a routine that was established many decades
earlier. Had they been paying attention, they might have seen him whisper two
words in her ear and may have overhead him tell her, “Tonight, midnight.” She
instantly knew what those words meant and they brought a big smile to her face.
Their teenage grandson saw her smile and jokingly asked her if she had gas. She
laughed a little and cryptically replied, “No, but we will probably get some
later tonight”. Her husband gently squeezed her shoulder as if to say, “Don’t
give away our secret”. Nobody picked up on the clue and their grandson just
thought both of them were a little crazy. He was waiting at midnight as the
porch light came on and she walked out the door.
It’s strange
how the years go by so quickly. One minute you are a teenager with a brand new
driver’s license and a cheap car that barely runs. The next you’re a 76 year
old man whose driver’s license is about to expire and you know it won’t be
renewed. That driver’s license has always represented freedom but the time was
near when that would end. Oh, their kids are trying to make it easier by saying
we will be “chauffeured” from now on as if that will make losing the freedom
easier to handle.
My wife and
I met on the day I got my first driver’s license. We were both at the Driver’s
License Bureau, each taking the written test. I noticed her right away but she
was too distracted with the test. After I completed the driving portion and
received my license, I decided to hand around the parking lot in hopes of meeting
the girl. She had pitch black hair with green eyes. I had never seen such a
combination and it captivated me. I hadn’t noticed anything else about her
because I couldn’t get beyond the hair and eyes and that bothered me a little
bit. As I was daydreaming about her and my new license, she came walking by and
almost bumped into me. She was obviously sad and mad so I asked her what was
wrong. She told me that she had failed the test and would have to wait two
months before being able to take it again. I boldly told her that I had gotten my
license and would be glad to take her anywhere she wanted to go. She wasn’t
sure if I was making fun at her failing the test or if I was serious. She
decided to test me. She gave me her address and told me to be there at midnight
and she would leave the house when the porch light came on. I silently thought, “Wow, I’ve hit the
jackpot”, but knew that wasn’t the right answer so I tried to be cool and stammered,
“Sure, I’ll be there”.
He arrived
at her house fifteen minutes early and waited for the porch light to come on.
At the stroke of midnight, the light came on and she opened the door. She
wasn’t sure he would actually be there so she looked around until she saw his
car then walked steadily and confidently to it. She stopped at the passenger
door and waited. I asked her what was wrong and she curtly replied, “A
gentleman always opens the door for a lady”. That was the first of many lessons
she would teach me over a life-time. I hurriedly got out and ran to the other
side to open the door. She got in and sat down in a true lady-like fashion.
After I crawled back behind the steering wheel, I realized that I didn’t have a
clue on where to go. I asked her, “Where to”? She replied, “I thought you would
know”. We both laughed and that broke the ice for the evening. I told her that
I needed to stop for gas, hoping it would impress her with my ability to pump
it and pay for it. After fueling up and still with no destination in mind, we agreed
to just drive around and enjoy our freedom. Hours passed, and we talked about
everything. We told each other about our past and plans for the future. It was
as if we had known each other our entire lives. It was during those hours of
simply driving around that our two lives became one life.
For the next
sixty years, we were never farther apart than necessary. Whenever life felt
like it was crashing around us, one of us would always say, “Tonight, midnight”
and we would just drive and talk until it felt ok to go home.
Tomorrow, my license will expire and our freedom will be reduced, but tonight, in our minds and memories, we will both be sixteen year old kids again just driving around.
Darrell Goza
August 21, 2024
Ya'll take care of each other. Maybe I'll Cya down the road.
A very nice story. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteYou're welcome Barney. Have fun with your trip planning and good luck.
DeleteVery Nice. Thanks for sharing!
ReplyDeleteThanks john. Be safe out there
DeleteInteresting story Darrell. It moved along quickly, and I was hooked by the first paragraph. Maybe you should write a short story every once in a while when you're not doing anything I'm sure everyone would look forward to that.
ReplyDeleteTom
Thanks Tom. I may just do that. It sort of serves as an outlet sometimes.
DeleteNice Story that give one a warm feeling. At 75 yrs. those types of memories surface. Thank you!
ReplyDeleteYou're welcome Larry, glad you enjoyed it
DeleteI agree with the boon dork....that was a great story. Such crazy things going on in our world this was a nice story.
ReplyDeleteThank you for the compliment
DeleteYou’re a good writer. You should enter your story in a writing contest. Or submit it to a magazine.
ReplyDeleteThank you Anon,,,, that's means a lot
Delete