BOOK ONE: DECEPTIONS
Chapters One to Twenty Six
Vignettes 1 - 140

BOOK TWO: YESTERDAY ECHOES
Chapters 27 to
Vignettes 141 -

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Vignette #71: Goodbyes

Before Ian could turn around, Reese was whipping the steering wheel hard to one side. The car spun around and a shiny ATV whizzed by barely missing them. When the dust settled Reese grabbed Ian’s shoulder.

“Are you okay?” He asked. Ian nodded his head and looked back and Jude. “How ‘bout you?”

“Fine.”

Reese slammed the car back in gear and pulled it back in the right direction on the dirt road. He mumbled several choice profanities.

Ian had barely stopped trembling from the near miss, when the car came to a stop again. This time in the old gravel lane of his Aunt Hil’s house. He sat in the car a moment, listening to the other doors open and shut and the crunchy footsteps of his companions in the driveway.

Ian felt a hand reach in a squeeze his shoulder. “Come on, buddy. This is the tough part, but it’s time to say goodbye.”

Ian looked up at Reese and nodded his head. He got out and straightened the wrinkles out of his pants. He looked at the old house. It was barely a shack, but Miz Hil had always managed to make it a home. He walked slowly to the back porch, looking at all the bushes and flowers trying to bloom in the too hot early spring.

The men followed him around the corner to the back steps. Ian stopped and bent down gently touching a rose, a yellow rose that had somehow managed to bloom, already sticking its head out of the unruly bush. Ian looked back at the men.

“I bought this for her on her birthday years ago.” Ian leaned over, sticking his nose deep in the hardy bloom and breathed in. “It smells like her.”

For a moment, Ian could see her, standing on the stoop, hands on her hips and smiling. Ian could almost touch her. “Make me proud, boy.” She smiled. “You can do it. Make me proud.” And she opened her beefy arms, beckoning him to come into her arms.

The screen door slammed. “I thought I heard ya’ll pull up.” It was Janie Osbourne standing on the stoop, the memory of Aunt Hil gone.

“I was just looking around, one last time.” Ian said.

Janie nodded and folded her hands in front of her. Ian pointed to the rose bush. “This is the one. Kyle said he’d transplant it in the fall to Aunt Hil’s grave. You think it’ll live?”

Jude squatted down beside him. “Well, son, it’s been there for at least twenny years or more, prob’ly got roots to China, but it can be done. Long as we don’t break the original bulb, it’ll live, mebbe even have enough roots to keep a growin’ here.”

“Maybe they can send us a cutting, Ian.” Reese added. “It might nice to have a little piece of it growing in your own yard.”

“Like she’s a watchin; over ya.” Janie smiled.

Ian could only nod his head. He took a deep breath and stood. “Okay, shall we?” He motioned inside.

“Honey, if you don’t wanna…” Janie touched his shoulder as he stood before her. “I’ve already put a few things in a cardboard box, just little things I thought you might wanna keep. Sparky’s gonna come, an’ Billy and we’ll pack up everything, what ever you want.”

“I think I need to just go in and look around.” Ian said.

Janie stepped off the only big enough for one stoop and Ian opened the screen. He stepped into the kitchen.

It was as he always remembered; very tidy, very clean and cluttered with little nick nacks and gadgets. It even still smelled as though she’d made ham and red eye gravy for breakfast. Ian ran his hands across the muslin tablecloth, white with blue and red embroidery she’d done herself.

He turned and looked out the window, his friends still standing in the backyard looking in. On the sill was the little coffee cup she’d drop pebbles in for every fog in August and then try to match them against the winter snows. In the two corner shelves, there was the old crock, who knows where it came from, and a tarnished pewter pitcher.

Aunt Hil only used the pitcher on special occasions. Every Christmas and Easter she’d clean it up and fill it with milk and put it in the fridge to serve at the meager meal she’d always make for them. Ian picked up the crock, collecting a few of the nick nacks that for some reason or other made him smile and placed them inside.

He pulled open a drawer and found a biscuit cutter and an old wooden rolling pin. They joined the other mementos in the crock. He picked up the old black frying pan, still on the stove ready for use, and placed it on the table.

Ian strolled the house, crock held in one hand. In went a little doily he remembered seeing her crochet, along with a pair of gloves she always wore in the garden. He stopped at her bedroom.

He heard the screen door open and footsteps on the other side of the house. Ian turned when he knew they were standing behind him. “That’s her bedroom. I never was allowed in there.” He touched the heavy door. “I can’t do it now.”

“Reese would you take this to the car? I want to take these little things with me…and the pan on the kitchen table.” Reese nodded his head. “Janie if you would, pack up her clothes and make sure they go to someone who needs them. She never threw anything away no matter how bad it looked.”

Janie smiled. “She always would mend it, and wear it til it jest fell apart.”

“Then make a quilt out of the scraps.” Ian tried to smile.

Janie turned her face to the floor. She couldn’t help but try to hide her own tears. “I’ll…I’ll take ‘em down to the Samaritan’s purse, and anythin’ else you don’t want. She allus wanted to travel the world. Now she can.”

“What about the furniture and things like that, son?” Jude quietly asked.

“I don’t know. Is there someone who can use it? It’s old, but it’s still in good shape.”

“Well…” Janie spoke up. “The Clareys over in Glade. They got burnt out a couple a weeks ago. Lost pretty much ever thing. I’m sure they could use it.”

“Clarey’s?” Ian asked. Janie nodded her head. “They didn’t have much to start with. Call ‘em and tell them to come get it, anything you don’t pack up.”

“I’ll do it. I’m gonna go over and get the supper heated up. You gonna come over soon?”

Ian shook his head. “Thank you Janie, but I can’t. I just can’t. I think I’ll just sit here a minute and then Reese and I will go home.”

“At least come and eat a bite…” she said.

“I can’t, Janie. Not now. It’s too…hard.” Ian lost the battle to hold the little tear that insisted on rolling down his cheek.

“You come back when you can.” Janie wiped his tear away.

“No, Janie. I can’t. You understand?”

She nodded her head. Ian grabbed her and held her tight. “You come in a get anything you want. Anything at all, Ronnie, too.”

“I will.” They walked toward the kitchen, Janie in front, Jude, arm around Ian, behind. Janie stopped in the kitchen and pointed to a box in the old chair. “Take that with you. I found a few can goods, and some things that she had made a point over the years to tell me that she wanted you to have. At the bottom is her jewelry box. She always told me no matter what that when the day came it was to go to your little girl.”

Ian cleared his throat and nodded his head. “Janie, you’ve done good. You let me know if you need anything…anything at all. I’ll make sure you have it.”

“Oh Ian…” she said stroking the back of his head. “All we need is for you to be happy. You made the right choices, now stop wonderin’ if you did and be happy.”

Ian kissed her cheek. Jude patted his back. “You say goodbye for me? I just can’t take another heartbreak.”

“Sure.” She smiled, lip trembling, but a strong confident smile. “Com’mon Daddy.” She walked to the door.

Jude grabbed Ian and hugged him tight. “I love you, son. I love you with all my heart.”

“Me, too, Jude. Me, too.” Ian didn’t want to let go, but he had to. He had to let go and watch them walk away. He followed them to the kitchen door, his heart finally about to burst.

Ian took a deep breath and called out her name. “Janie?”

She turned to him. “I’ll have Blake call you on Monday to arrange for anything financial that you might need…for Aunt Hil’s things.”

She nodded her head and smiled. He walked over to the kitchen sink and slipped the old pewter pitcher off its place on the corner shelf. “And this…I want Ronnie to have it. Use it on holidays and birthdays, special family times, it’s not much but it meant something to her.”

Ian placed it in her hands. “And the cat.” He said. “The little long hair gray one? Don’t make him give it away. He says it’s his favorite and I want him to have it. Tell Kyle, that’s it’s the only thing I’ll ever ask.”


Janie nodded her head and was gone. Ian stood at the kitchen door and watched them walk down the old path between the fields he’d used so many times, and would now never, ever have to again.

No comments:

Post a Comment