Date: Thu, 23 Jan 1997 18:11:04 -0800 Subject: SUB: Valentine's Contest: "Roses and Weeds": Short Story There's still time to send your entry! Check out http://web.mit.edu/mbarker/www/val97/val.html for details. Please reserve all critiques on contest entries until after Valentine's Day! @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ Roses and Weeds It's been sixteen years since I left Silver Creek. The remainder of my family left two years later each going their separate way. I have no reason to return there. Except, for the past three months I keep feeling as though I should go back. I try to ignore the feelings, but they just won't go away. The more I try the stronger they get. Last night I dreamt I was in Silver Creek playing baseball with all my childhood buddies. The next morning while eating breakfast with Cindy, I told her about the feelings and about my dream. I had decided I was going to Silver Creek even though I didn't have the vaguest idea why. "Why do you want to go back? You hate the place, at least that's what you have always told me." "That's true, but I just can't shake these feelings." "As far as I'm concerned it's a waste of time and money. A town of eight hundred people and you want to go for a visit," shouted Cindy. Chances are you don't know a single person there." "I know, but I am going anyway," I replied in a loud compelling voice, "it will only be a few days." "Ok," replied Cindy as she glared at me. Deep down she knew there had to be a good reason for returning. "So it's settled I leave in the morning." To get to Silver Creek I flew to Nashville, rented a car and drove 132 miles. It was early afternoon when I arrived. I went directly to the hotel and checked in. What else could I do? I didn't know why I was there. After checking in I decided to walk around town. As I was leaving the hotel I heard a voice from behind hollering for me to stop. I turned around to look and there stood Bobby Fischer. With excitement in our voices we both roared "I can't believe it what a coincidence." "What are you doing here?" Fred asked. "That's kind of hard to explain? Have time for a cup of coffee?" I asked as I mentally tried to picture what Fred looked like when we were kids.. "I have about an hour before I have to leave. Why don't we go to Frank's Place?" "Frank's Place is still here?" "Sure is but it's not owned by Frank anymore." "I just can't believe this," Fred remarked while situating his luggage near the table. "Running into each other after so many years." "This place brings back fond memories." "Sure does," replied Fred taking a sip of coffee. "Do you still live here?" I asked. "Nope left about a year after you did" "Why are you here?" "Every year I spend a couple days with my Grandfather. He refuses to leave. His exact words are 'five generations of Fischer's have lived in this house and this is where I'm going to stay until the day I die.' So I visit to make sure he's doing all right. During my visits he fills me in on all the latest gossip." "How about you?" "I don't know. All I can say is that for the past three months a little voice in the back of my head has kept telling me I had to come back. So here I am." "Most of the people living here when we were kids have long since gone. About the only ones left you would know are the Lunds'. Do you remember them? Their ranch is just outside of town." "Yea," I remember them. Why? "Did you know Mrs. Lund passed away about a year ago?" "No I didn't know. I haven't kept in contact with anyone since I left." "Yea," Fred said, "dropped dead from a heart attack. Kind of makes you wonder when your time is going to be up." "Sure does. How's Mr. Lund taking all of this?" "Not too well I'm afraid." "Yea that has to be rough." "My Grandfather told me Mr. Lund doesn't come to town anymore. He has everything he needs delivered to his ranch." "I remember when we were kids he would let us play ball in his best pasture. Mrs. Lund would bring us drinks and tease us by putting freshly baked pies on the windowsill to cool knowing the aroma would drive us nuts. They treated us pretty good. Think I'll go see him tomorrow." "Better think twice about that, he has made it very clear that he doesn't want to be bothered by anybody." "That so," I said, "we'll see about that." "I have to leave, but here is my business card in case you want to call and talk about the good old days." "May just do that," I replied as I finished the last of my coffee. "Great seeing you again Ken." "Like wise," I responded as I paid the check. After Fred left, I decided to continue my walk. Looking around it was as though time had stood still; nothing had changed. Childhood memories began rushing into my head. Feeling tired I returned to my room intending to take a short nap. When I awoke it was morning. Peeking through the curtain the sun was just above the horizon. I felt relaxed and rested. I ate breakfast then headed for the Lund Ranch. The ranch was about three miles south of town. Even though I hated growing up in such a small town I had forgotten how beautiful the area was. The scent of freshly cut hay filled the air. I could hear the sounds of tractors in the distance. Farmers were busy harvesting crops anxious to get them to market. Several tractors were hauling bales of hay to the barn for winter storage. I stopped at the southern edge of the Lund Ranch to look around. I couldn't believe my eyes. The once lush green meadows filled with grazing cattle were now fields devoured by weeds, barren of any life. When I arrived at the ranch I turned into the drive but had to make a sudden stop. Blocking the drive was a padlocked wooden gate with a large sign attached to it. I got out of the car hoping to find another gate but the only one I found was wired shut. I was returning to the car when I spotted the silhouette of a person carrying what appeared to be a shot gun walking toward me. I began to perspire and my knees began to shake. "Who the hell is there?" Hollered Mr. Lund sternly, Can't you read? The sign says 'No Trespassing or Solicitors' and that's exactly what it means. So get back in your car and get the hell out of here." "Ok," I replied while trying to conceal my fear. "If I could just talk with you a minute I sure would appreciate it." I couldn't believe what I was saying. The man had a loaded shot gun I've got to be crazy. I got into the car and began to close the door when he asked "What's your name?" "Ken Frazier," I said in a very low voice; by now my palms were sweating, my heart beat had doubled and my stomach was in a knot. "Frazier, seems to me I do remember a Frazier family that lived here a long time ago. You were the runt of the bunch." "That's me, "I said. When I was a kid I use to come out here with my friends and play baseball." "Now I remember," said Mr. Lund looking me directly in the eyes. "You were the kid that use to help me out with chores from time to time." "Sure did, felt like I needed to repay you for allowing us to play ball on your property. Especially since no one else would do that for us." I began to feel a little more at ease. "Guess there's no harm talking for a few minutes. I'll unlock the gate." I was still a bit nervous as I drove to the house and even more confused considering what Fred had told me the day before. After a brief tour of the ranch we sat on the porch and reminisced about the past. I commented on how good the well water tasted. I wanted to ask about Mrs. Lund but didn't know how to begin nor did I know why I should want too. We talked about baseball and the history of Silver Creek. As we talked I looked Mr. Lund directly in the eyes and saw a lonely and heartbroken man. I was getting bored with the small talk. Before I knew it I began talking about how kind it was of Mrs. Lund to bring cold lemonade down to the playing field on hot summer days. "Don't want to talk about Martha," said Mr. Lund with anger in his voice. "You got that?" "Sure do." I glanced in his direction noticing one lonely tear drop running down the right side of his cheek. I could sense the ocean of tears this man was holding back and felt powerless to help. "I remember when Mrs. Lu...." "Stop," yelled Mr. Lund sharply, "I told you once and I'm not going to tell you again. I don't want to discuss Martha." "Ok," I replied. Sensing the anger in his voice I began to shiver. Mr. Lund turned his head away so I wasn't able to see his face. I knew he was crying. The tone of his voice was soft and gentle as he began to talk as best he could through the tears and the pain. On occasion his voice would breakup and he would stop talking to regain his composure. "Oh Martha I miss you so. At night I reach for you wanting to hold you in my arms but you're not there; feeling lonely and cold I cry myself to sleep. In our youth we had passion and as the years went by passion gave way to wisdom; and with wisdom we became one love. I am no longer whole. I feel empty as though part of me is missing. I am half a person constantly searching for my angel. I'm angry that God would take the most precious gift I ever received. But the worst of all is I never told you this when I had the chance. I pray you can hear me now, because Martha the most precious part of my life was you and now you are gone. You provided the light and laughter in my life. I love you now and forever. Even though you are gone we are still one love." He finally looked back at me his eyes were bloodshot red and his shirt was soaked with tears. We were a matching set. "Are you all right? I'll be fine," he said as he wiped the tears from his eyes We sat and talked for another hour or so. Feeling he was calmed down I decided it was time to go. As we walked toward the car I noticed a single rose bush among all the weeds. It was in full bloom with beautiful deep red roses. Before I could ask, Mr. Lund looked at me and said, "It was Martha's favorite rose." While driving back to town I had a lot to think about. I finally realized why I came to Silver Creek. I packed my bags and headed home the next morning. As I pulled into the drive Cindy and my two daughters were waiting, I leaped from the car running to Cindy hugging her as hard as I could. Without hesitation I whispered in her ear, "You are the most precious gift I have ever received. My love for you is eternal." I was hugging her so hard she could hardly breathe. I then picked up Linda and Colleen and held them as close to my heart as possible; expressing my love for them as best I could while I still had the chance. ------------------------------------------- Sig files are bumper stickers for the computer... without the gunky mess when you remove them. Michelle winebird@inreach.com