Story #5 - A Trip for Him

A Trip for Him

                She drove away from Midland with nothing much on her mind. She sang songs from Pandora since stations this far out were scarce. She had chosen to create an Eagles station on Pandora and song after song reminded her of the purpose for this trip. When “Take It Easy” came on she laughed and thought of him.

                When she told her friends she was driving to Arizona during Spring Break, alone, they thought she was crazy. They couldn’t understand why she didn’t want to go to Fort Lauderdale with all of them. They worried she might be overworked since she was taking 15 class hours and was working at Starbucks at least 20 hours a week. One friend even suggested that she might be running off to meet someone from the online dating sight she had mentioned. At any rate, they had no luck talking her out of the trip.

                She finally stopped for gas in Amarillo to insure she would have enough to get to the Painted Desert and Petrified Forest without worry. Now her mind wondered and she soon found herself thinking of him again. Although he had always been a part of her life, she felt like she had only really gotten to know him recently. Spending this past year in his house was a blessing and a challenge. Day by day, she learned not only about who he was presently, but also about his past. What she thought she knew seemed real before, but the more she learned of him, the less she really knew. He loved his music and soon, though endless hours of listening to it, she came to love it, too.

                As she thought of him, she found herself recognizing songs she was hearing because of the stories he would tell her about each of them; stories of his times in Vietnam, stories of his youth, and stories of love. Whenever “Dust in the Wind” would play, it harkened him back to his coming home one evening to find his love had passed away. That song was the one playing while he waited on the porch for the ambulance to arrive. Every time she hears it now, it makes her sad for him. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to come home one day and find your loved one gone. Songs like that and many more had brought them together over the dining room table. Once he told the story of how he had met his love. It was her favorite story and the song that accompanied it was the reason for this pilgrimage.

                The Painted Desert and the Petrified Forest just flew by the window and as much as she thought she would want to stop and take pictures, she instead felt it necessary to press on. Time was going quickly and happily the weather was holding. The clouds looked threatening but, so far, there was no rain. That only lasted another hour or so, for when she entered Winslow, the sky opened up and that was her cue to find the hotel. She had already made her reservations. She had found it online and thought the idea of staying in a converted railcar sounded fun and again it reminded her of him. He often told of his train trips as a child to see his grandmother in Tennessee.  He would laugh each time he heard the song “Walking in Memphis” because his grandmother never let them walk anywhere in her hometown. She insisted they drive. Even if they were just going a couple of blocks to the grocery story, they had to drive.

                She slept peacefully through the night and after a filling breakfast, she headed to her destination. She drove slowly through town. When she got to the center of town, she took in the sights of the small, unobtrusive square. For being such a renowned place, it really was quiet and quaint. There really wasn’t much to see, but that really didn’t matter to her because she, like everyone else who visited here, was only looking for one corner.

                Taking a spin around the square she noted the small hardware store, a coffee shop, a feed store and, of course, a bank. She parked on the far side of the square, pulled out her gear and slowly walked to the corner. The statue was right where he said it was. Using the water bottle she brought, she cleaned the statue a little and began walking around it. Looking at it from all sides, she noted the way the sun glinted off its dark cast and determined the direction from which she wanted to work. She then thought about the angle at which she wanted to capture the image. Finally, she was ready. She set up the tripod and adjusted the angle of the shot. Then, correcting the aperture, she took 2 or 3 photos, but that was not enough. She changed locations many times taking 5 or 6 pictures at each one and within less than 5 minutes, she had taken more than 60 pictures. About two angles into her task, she realized she was humming the song and it brought a smile to her face.

                Dad had met mom here 42 years ago. He had been in the hardware store when he saw her sitting on the bed of her father’s truck. Instantly, the song came to his mind and he approached her.  He wasn’t sure how she would respond if he just asked if she was the girl from the song, but what could it hurt.  It seemed like a silly thing to do to him back then, but it worked beautifully and now, their daughter was here collecting memories for him.

                When she had finished, she packed up her tripod and began back to the truck. On the way she decided to stop in the coffee shop. She ordered a latte, which she was not only surprised they had, but was also pleasantly surprised at how good it was. While sitting there, she texted her sister to let her know all was well and to check on dad. He was fine but was worried about her and her mysterious trip. She sent hugs, kisses and love then headed for the door.

                When she got to the truck, there was a gentleman standing near the hood. She started to open her door when he asked, “Are you from here?” “No,” she answered. “That’s interesting,” he observed, “I thought you were part of the hype.” At first she was offended and she looked at him incredulously. “I’m sorry. That was rude. Let me explain,” he quickly added. “I came here to see the statue, but when I saw you, I thought you were the girl in the flatbed Ford.”

                She had not even thought about that. It never even occurred to her that she was driving a flatbed, or the fact that she herself had been standing on a corner in Winslow, Arizona. She chuckled and thought, “Maybe this is what dad meant when he said that meeting mom was like a line from a song!”  With a bit of curiosity she looked up to meet his eyes and smiled.

 The End

Story #4 - Window Shopping

He saw her walking around the square as he sat on the bench. She had looked in the photographer’s windows at the pictures. She stopped to look in the windows of the half-dozen antique shops. He watched as she slowed as she passed the old candy shop and it made him smile to see her look like a child as she admired the candy and treats.

                When she turned the corner and he could no longer see her, he wondered if she would return. After a couple of minutes, when she didn’t, he rose and walked to where he had seen her last. There she was about a block down the street. He watched her quietly as she walked away from him, but then she surprised him by turning and heading straight toward him.

                For an awkward moment, he felt exposed and trapped. He didn’t know what to do, or where to go. He looked at her and then quickly looked into the window he was standing next to. He was acutely aware as she passed and finally the window display came into focus…………baby clothes!  “Oh, great!” he thought, “If she noticed she probably thinks I am a dad or soon to be one. That is just great!” He had to think of something quick if he had any hope of at least learning her name before she was gone. As he looked up the street, she was gone. “Well, crap!” he thought.

                Walking slowly back to his bench, he was deep in thought. “I can’t believe it. She was beautiful! What were you thinking,” he chided himself. Finally, he looked up and there she sat on his bench. She was staring at him as he approached. “Were you following me?” Her tone was sharp, but he swore there was a glint in her gorgeous green eyes. He stared at her for longer than he intended, and finally answered, “Well, yes, but…” She cut him off. “And why is that?” She was very straightforward, so he thought, “What the hell?” I saw you and I wanted to meet you.” At last she smiled and his breath caught in his throat. “She really is beautiful! What a smile!” “Well, are you going to introduce yourself? I mean, if you wanted to meet me, isn’t this the perfect time to do so?”

                Again, he was pleasantly surprised by her boldness. “She will keep it interesting, “ he thought. “My name is Peter. Nice to meet you.” “Well, Peter, it is nice to put a name with my stalker.”  Her smile assured him she wasn’t serious. He laughed and apologized, “I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t upset you.” “It’s ok, but you could calm my nerves with a class of wine?”  “Wow…um, where?,” he thought. “My place or hers? She moves fast…….um, um…..” “How about the wine tasting room around the corner?,” she suggested. “Oh, sure,” he said with a feeling of confusion immediately followed by a sense of relief. “I don’t know what I would have done if she had asked me to her place. I couldn’t do that,” he thought.

                They walked quietly to the location she suggested. “Amazing how not talking feels so natural,” he thought, “but what do I say to her? I am so boring, I don’t have any talents, nothing interesting to share.” When they arrived, the both ordered a glass of wine and sat at a side table, away from the speakers so they could talk. The group playing were good, but I really wanted to talk with her, if he could find something interesting to talk about.

                “So, when you aren’t stalking, what do you do?” she smirked. “Ok, she is funny. Now I really have nothing to share,” he thought. “I am an educator. I teach high school. What about you?” She stared at him for a moment in disbelief. “Really?  Really, you are an educator?” “So am I and I teach at a high school, too.”

                All of a sudden, all sorts of doors opened and he was confident again. He smiled at her and drank in her beauty as the conversation that lasted a lifetime began.

The End

Story #3 - Imagine?

  She had a very good night; listening to live music and having fun with her friends, the musicians.  She loves live music and how free she feels sitting around people she doesn’t even know and quickly bonding with them over a favorite song. She has met and gotten to know many people here at the winery just that way. When she comes in the folks who run the little shop all know her and quickly start up a conversation with her. She feels almost at home there. She is primarily there for the company and the music………always the music.

                She had also had a good night because “he” cam into the winery. He had come in quietly and she really only noticed him because he sat next to her at her own table. She wasn’t upset that he sat without asking because she could see he was very focused on the music. She noticed his frame and the way he mouthed the words, but then the song came to an end. She looked away and clapped.

                He had walked along taking in all the sights and sounds of the quaint little downtown square. A song grabbed his attention. The Eagles drew him down the block and into the little winery. Entering, he admired the musicians and their guitars. He followed the sound and sat in the first chair he came to. “This duet is good,” he thought, “they are skilled guitarists and their harmonies are fantastic. There’s nothing better after a long day than to hear some good music and enjoy a nice glass of cabernet.”  When the song was finished, he was awkwardly aware that he was sitting at someone else’s table. He had been so engrossed the music that he was unaware of her presence till the clapping began. He rose quickly and turned to offer an apology, but she stopped him and told him that now one was sitting there and then she insisted he stay. He smiled and thought, “Well, when a lady insists…”

                Through the next few songs she did her best to sing quietly, though she really couldn’t help but sing. It just wouldn’t be right. She knew 99% of the songs the duet played and often found that one of the musician friends would change the words of the song to include her name.  Each time she would throw him a kiss. These two men were her friends and one of them had even suggested that she was there “#1 Fan.” She found this funny, charming and even a bit flattering. When the set was over, the two of them came over to get their hugs and praise. Jim, one of the musicians was also a very talented photographer so she and he discussed the idea of another photo shoot, while the other, Keith, took his break. When he returned, it was Jim’s turn to take a break, so Keith and she talked quietly about the set and how well they were doing. Keith got up to leave and she could feel the man’s eyes on her so she watched till the duo were back up front and getting ready to begin the next set. The man finally looked away. She felt a little shy and a slight bit giddy inside. “Really?” she thought, “get a hold of yourself. He is a total stranger.”  Even so, she couldn’t resist………….

                “My name is Ellen,” she said, looking at him.

                He quickly turned, smiled and said, as he held out his hand, “Very nice to meet you, Ellen. I’M James” She returned the handshake and the smile as she asked, “What do you think of the music?”

                “What do I think of the music? The music?” He searched for the words, but they seemed lost. He had come into the little establishment because of the music, but after that Eagles song, he had lost all interest in it except to listen to her singing. When he first noticed it, he thought it was nice and it, in combination with the wine, continued to relax him. Finally he came back to his senses and answered, “They are very good. I am enjoying my evening here very much.” He wondered if she knew that he was referring to her, as well as the music, but he also thought, “Don’t say any more, goofball. She will think you are hitting on her……………….but……………I WANT to hit on her.”

                She felt liberated that she had the courage to introduce herself to him and try to talk with him. “Good job, Ellen,” she thought. She waited for his response. He seemed to really be thinking hard about his response. “Must be one of those linear-logical types that never rushes into anything without careful thought.” When he did finally answer, she imagined he was talking about how being there with her had made it an enjoyable evening. “Did he mean it that way?,” she thought. She really didn’t know but she chose to believe that was exactly what he was trying to say. Now they were both smiling.

                As the next set began, they listened without conversation, but he was really listening to her and when the duo played one of his favorites, a song unlike all the others, he was surprised and delighted that she was still singing and knew every word and note. As she sang, she closed her eyes and his heart leapt in his chest.  There was a smile on her face as she sang. “She must know the significance and meaning of this song,” he thought. He too closed his eyes as he said a silent prayer.

                “Did he just hum this song?! Really? He knows THIS song?” She was amazed and delighted to think he would know this song; a song so different from the others. She wondered till she saw him close his eyes and slightly bow his head. When the song was over and the clapping finished, she turned to look at him.

                “I can’t. Can you?,” he asked.

                “No. I don’t think I can,” she said.

                In unison, they both said, “I can only imagine.”

The End

Story #2 - Feel The Music

Feel the Music

                Working on the square brought opportunity after opportunity to hear live music, but tonight it was a carcophony.  Rock here, country there and a fiddle could be heard from somewhere. Never quite on a Friday night and tonight was no different, except she could hear some acoustic guitar and two wonderful male voices singing many songs she knew. She found herself singing along as she worked near the open door. Her shift would be over soon and she determined to find the source of the singing as soon after work as she could.

                Walking around the corner, she found the source at the wine sampling room. Stepping in, she was still singing for they were playing yet another she knew. She had thoughts of her mother who would have loved to hear this music, as well. A sad thought, but she knew mom couldn’t be here nor could she have heard it even if she were here. She sat quietly through most of the set just listening, but singing on the inside. So many great songs and she loved the harmonies.  

                She waited till the duo took a break. When they got up, she introduced herself, complimented them and thanked them. A conversation ensued and the musicians were happy to sit and just chat. While chatting, the subject of her mom came spilling out. She didn’t really know why she was telling them, but as she did a tear appeared. They listened quietly and with sincere hugs, went back to their music.  Feeling drained, she wanted to leave, but couldn’t find the strength to get up.

                As they played, the duo were in thought of the girl and her mother. One, thought, “What if…” as the other just shook his head as he tried to imagine not being able to hear music at all.  When the next set was over, without a word, they wandered outside to the patio. They sat there for a moment silently thinking. Finally, Keith said, “I can’t imagine.” “Neither can I,” Jim said. “We could do something, couldn’t we? You know sound stuff. Isn’t it possible for her to hear through her feet?” Keith asked. Jim chuckled, “Not just her feet, but through her entire body. If she can feel the vibrations and knows the song, she should be able to feel it. Her daughter said she lost her hearing only ten or so years ago, so if it’s a song she knows, she should be able to ‘hear’ it in her head.” Keith brightened. “Do you think we could set up a set for her mom?” “Sure worth a try,” Jim said jumping up to go talk to the daughter.

               

                For the first time in a very long time, Keith was nervous. He played all the time for many people, many of whom he considered famous by his standards, but tonight was different. Mother and daughter sat quietly using sign language. There was a look of skepticism on the mother’s face. She smiled politely to the duo and chatted with her daughter. Jim and Keith took their positions and nervously looked at each other.  They smiled at the daughter and mother, asked if they were ready to “give this a try.”

                Jim adjusted the microphones and checked the volume. The two looked at each other and Jim tipped the amplifier over to lay it flat on the floor. They began to play a song that the daughter knew the mother would also know. It was one the mother had sung to the daughter often. As she watched her mother, the daughter saw her go from signing to sitting still when the music began.  A moment later, her mother put her hand on her chest, closed her eyes and a tear rolled down her cheek. Within just a few minutes, she was singing along. Mother and daughter were laughing, singing and even requested some of their favorites. At one point they even stood to dance.

                When the evening was over, the duo was emotionally drained, but left with broad smiles and a few tears of their own.  Mother and daughter sat talking about the evening for many hours and were able to communicate at a level they had not in years because the music had allowed them to “hear” each other.

The End

Story #1 - A Caroling We Go

A Caroling We Go

                She was so excited because she finally had the opportunity to go caroling on the square. She had been trying for years, but always had to work. This year she had asked at least a month in advance and got her request. Now, as she walked around the square with her friends she hardly noticed the crowd gathering and following them. When they approached the fourth store, he noticed her.  She had such a beautiful smile and she was so engrossed in the singing and seemed so truly happy. He thought to himself, “She is so lovely. She looks like an angel as she sings.” After a complete tour of the busy, festive little downtown square, the group disbanded. He stepped forward to thank many of them for their talent and he expressed his gratitude for how their singing had added to his increasing faith in the season. He then turned to thank her but she was hurrying away and he overheard her call out that she was late to work. “Oh, that explains the rush,” he thought. Other girl called out to the first that she and a friend would be coming by the pub a little later. “She works at the pub? That’s nice. Wonder if I should run home and change clothes first?” he thought.

                She flew in the door and threw her boss, Kelly, a furtive glance. She hoped her boss would not be upset with her tardiness. The boss looked up as she entered, frowned, but then just as quickly smiled. Kelly knew her faithful employee loved to sing and had wanted to do the caroling for years. She was happy to finally be able to accommodate the young ladies’ desire to share her passion and her faith. Kelly nodded her approval and set the girl to work.

                He walked slowly up the stairs suddenly feeling anxious. “What is wrong with me?” he thought. “You were married. You know how to talk to pretty women. Becky said you did a good job picking her up that day so many years ago. WAIT! Wait a minute! I am not picking anyone up. I am just meeting a new friend.” He walked in and found a seat where he could watcher her discreetly. He thought he had calmed himself till she approached his table. He ordered a Paulaner and before she turned to walk away, he said, “My name is Paul. What is yours?” He knew he had thrown her for a loop, so he quickly added that he always introduced himself to his wait staff because he felt it was important he be considered a person, not just a customer.  He didn’t say it, but he also knew it was important for the wait person to feel like a person and not just a waitress. She smiled and said, “I’m Lisa. Nice to meet you.”

                She went back to the bar, thinking, “That was nice. Seems no one cares who I am as long as their glass doesn’t sit empty. Maybe he is one of the ‘good guys!?’ She glanced his way often to see how his drink was doing. After a few minutes, she realized she wasn’t watching for that, but rather, was watching him. After 30 minutes or so, she stopped to analyze him. He was attractive. He smiled easily and each time he was smiling at others. Once though, she noticed his smile was laced with sadness as he watched a little boy play with a car while the parents chatted quietly. She wasn’t sure but it was as if he was missing someone.

                “She just floats around here. Must have been working here awhile,” he thought as he watched her. He watched as she served all who came in with a big bright smile. At one point, a man came in, pointed to his watch and stated loudly that he had seven minutes to drink his Chardonnay before he had to be across the street. “Wow, she handled that well, “he thought. She finished with the customer she was helping and told the man she would be right with him.  A minute later, truly, only a minute later, the man announced that he only had three minutes to get across the street. She didn’t flinch; poured his glass and watched him gulp it down. When he had left, Paul overheard one of the other customers call the guy a jerk, but Lisa quickly said, “Well, he isn’t polite, but I believe he needs help. I suggested once that he cut back and he seemed receptive enough. He didn’t yell at me to keep out of his business. I just keep praying for him.” “That is cool,” he thought. “She seems very sensitive to everyone and their needs.”

                The night continued in much the same manner.  People came and went and while he knew he should go, he didn’t want to.  She had stopped by a half-dozen times and with each they had talked a little more.  At one point, they talked about relationships and he admitted he was a widower.  She told him how sad she felt about that for him and hoped that he was finding comfort in his life. Why he told her, he wasn’t sure, but maybe because she made him feel so comfortable.  He felt like he had known her quite awhile and yet wanted to know so much more. When the evening was coming to and end and the pub was getting ready to close, he stopped her and as quickly as he could, asked if she worked all the time. She shook her head, giggled and said, “Not if I don’t have to.” “Would you like to go get coffee sometime,” he asked. “Well………,” she hesitated, “I think that would be ok.” “How about now,” he suggested. “Well…………, ok,” she said, and said she would meet him at the Saxby’s up the street.            Driving away and looking forward to seeing her again, he had a funny thought that Becky would approve.

Beginnings

I am a new writer and an even newer blogger, so bear with me. I started writing short stories while listening to my friends play their acoustic music. I enjoyed the music very much and as I listened, I found that I had the urge to write about some of the songs and the stories they conjured for me.

My first attempts are raw, but I want to post them here for your comments. Again, please be kind...........they do get better and will continue to do so with your input.