Timeless

Zack sat at the kitchen table as specks of dust danced in the sunlight streaming through the four-paned window in the back door. He suddenly recalled sitting in almost the exact location when the house was new. Oddly, he clearly remembered seeing only a speck or two of dust 50 years ago. What was it about living in a house that filled it with dust?

“Well, Nola, it’s time we got going.” Grabbing the picnic basket from the table, Zack made his way outside. “You know, old girl, I just don’t go as fast as I used to.” He considered how his lovely wife aged, then realized he never really saw her that way. Nola would always be the young, lithe girl he carried over the threshold. She had been barely more than a child back then. She usually wore her dark hair in a braid down her back. Her warm brown eyes always sparkled mischievously. Zack believed he could chart every freckle splattered across her nose.

Even in his current sluggish state, the picnic site was reached in short order. Zack spread the green checkered cloth and attempted to sit without appearing the tired old soul he was. A smile lit his face when he opened the basket. All the food he most enjoyed was packed neatly inside. Cold fried chicken, deviled eggs, freshly baked white bread and butter, tomato pickles and a slice of apple pie were quickly served and consumed. “What a way to celebrate our anniversary!” Zack declared.

Through the years, Nola had become something of a yapper. Perhaps that was the reason she was uncharacteristically still on the rare occasions when Zack decided to talk. To be honest, he rarely paid attention to her elocutions. It wasn’t that his hearing was so bad. Her voice just seemed to blend into the background—like an ever-present drone. Besides, it seemed appropriate for him to have a say on their 50^th wedding anniversary.

“Darlin’, did you ever think we’d end up like this when we started out?” Zack shook his head in wonder. “Us, with 6 children, 14 grandchildren, even great-grandchildren comin’ along. Did I tell you Ron got a letter from his boy? Now the war is over, that little bugger plans to stay in France as long as he can. Ron says the boy just wants to spruce off. I tell you, Nola, I don’t think the fellas comin’ home from war are gonna take to farm work, just like that song says. How can we keep those boys down on the farm? Heaven knows, I’m not much help anymore. My body is failing me, for certain. I know what you’ll say. ‘Growing old is not for the faint of heart.’ But Nola, I’m gettin’ mighty tired nowadays.

“I been thinkin’ a lot about the old times. They seem so much clearer than the present to me. Remember when that boy tied the tin cans to the back of Mr. Sherman’s buggy? I never seen a horse spook like that one. He must have run about five miles in the wrong direction before he give out. I thought old man Sherman would about bust the buttons right off his vest by the time he got back to town with that lame horse! And, no. I know I’ll never convince you, but I was not that boy.

“Remember the night Elodie was born? My, she was a pretty baby. You told me I was a father now and had to settle down. No more poker with my brothers or drinking in the barn. Remember what I told you? I said, ‘Holy shit, Nola. If you warned me beforehand, we wouldn’t a got hitched.’ And then you slapped my arm so hard I thought I never would pick apples again! You been a good wife to me, honey. I never did deserve you.”

Zack smiled as another memory came to mind. “Do you recall the night the barn caught on fire? You and me was tryin’ to get all the animals out. Then it looked as if we wasn’t gonna get out, ourselves. We sure did lay in the dirt laughing in the glow of the fire once we made it outside. It was so wonderful just to be alive with you in my arms, I didn’t even care when the damned barn burnt right to the ground.”

Rubbing his full stomach, Zack noted the chill in the air. It was getting late. The sun set earlier each night. The earth would soon fall asleep for the winter. Zack silently wondered if he’d live to see another spring, then realized that would be fine by him if he didn’t.

“I gotta get up off this ground and get my poor bones moving back home,” he proclaimed. Zack piled the picnic items in the basket, wadded up the cloth and used the gravestone to leverage his weary body off the ground. First gripping the stone lovingly, he gave it a pat before turning toward the graveyard gate. “See you tomorrow, Nola my love.”