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Rated: ASR · Short Story · Melodrama · #1002256
Young lady, dilemma of love; follow her heart or her sister’s wishes, old man helps.
There is an old people’s home about ten kilometres west from the city centre. The name of this quaint old place where folks in their sunset years have been cooped up is, well, you guessed closely: Sunset Home for the Elderly.

I have been working at Sunset Home for a while now; enough to know that old people cannot just be huddled in a crummy old home and labelled ‘old geezers’. Each of them is a unique individual with a unique personality. Some are bad-tempered as foxes; others are sweet as sugar, while some may yet be nutty as a fruit cake. I have learned to take them as they come; after all, they are entitled to live the last few years of their lives as best they see fit to live them. Young as I am, I figure I could learn a lot from these grandmas and grandpas; then maybe I could try and live my life better, without regrets.

“Life’s a gamble,” Mr. Williams once told me. “You gotta learn how to take risks, honey. Just toss the dice on the table and do what you gotta do. Let me tell you something, you may not have been dealt much, but you play a heck of a game with what you have.”
“Okay, Mr. Williams. You just lie down now and have your nap. I’ll try and keep that in mind.”

When I first met Mr. Williams, I thought he was just an old goon who talked crazy. But now, I’m starting to find some truth in what he tells me. He is like a grandfather trying to impart his last words of counsel to his grandchildren before he dies. Driving on home that afternoon, I began thinking that I might end up missing Mr. Williams a lot when he is gone.

“Oh well, c’est la vie! You win some, you lose some. It’s all in the cycle of life, you gotta keep moving on,” I tried to reassure myself. Within minutes, I was already at home.
“Hello, anybody home? Kate, are you there,” I called.
“I’m in the kitchen, Sarah,” was the response. I lived in the house which we grew up in. Unfortunately, a tragic road accident had prematurely ended our parents’ lives five years back. Now, it was just me and my sister, Kate, who was ten years my senior.

“Well, you’re home early. What happened over at the ‘old geezers’ sanctuary’? They finally made you lose it?”
“Kate, don’t call them that. They’re people just like you and me, and no, they did not make me ‘lose it’. You just can’t stand that I can hold a job of my own for three months straight, can you?”
“If you call listening to the ramblings of those old people a job, then you certainly got me!”
“You are so obnoxious sometimes,” I sighed and stormed out of the kitchen.

Kate was quite a vixen herself. She was nastily harsh and unkind most of the time, well, all the time; but then again she had always been that way for as long as I could remember. She had a cast-iron constitution, and would rather be caught dead than show any sign of emotion whatsoever. Even at our parents’ funeral, she never shed a single tear. She just stood there and looked cold and frozen like an iceberg. In fact, with her steel attitude, she helped me get over the grief faster. Sometimes I feel pity for her. I mean, it has got to be hard to carry on the way she does – not many friends and no husband still at thirty years of age.

I remember one night a month back, after my boyfriend, Christopher, had proposed to me; I ran into the house shouting at the top of my voice, then we had a bitter clash. “Kate! Kate! Look what Christopher gave me!” The next thing I knew, Kate had laid a quick slap across my face, and was now grabbing me hard by my arms.
“Are you out of your mind? I told you to stay away from that man. He’s no good for you. How could you be so naïve? His father is a corrupt man and he wants Christopher to marry you so he can lay his hands on the inheritance mum and dad left us. If you marry him, you can forget about your place in this family. Don’t doubt for one second that I won’t use my power of attorney to strike you off the will. Now, tomorrow you return this engagement ring to Christopher. Do you understand me?” “Yes,” I answered in the midst of uncontrollable sobs.

That night, I did not sleep a wink. My body was shaking like a leaf from a conflict of emotions. I did not know whether I should elope with Christopher, or whether I should do what Kate wanted me to do. She had absolutely no inkling what kind of a man Christopher was; he was nothing at all like his father. But she was right about his old man being corrupt and unscrupulous; many people had already heard the numerous tawdry tales circulating about him.

Well, it is a new day today, and I am bright and early on my way to Sunset Home. I do not have any ring on my ring finger; and I left Christopher feeling jilted that morning when I took the engagement ring back to him, explaining what had happened between Kate and me. Maybe Mr. Williams will have something good and comforting to say, and help me forget my troubles.

“Hi Mr. Williams, how are we doing this morning?”
“‘We’ are doing just fine and dandy, sweetheart. Come here, I want to show you something.” There was a small wooden case lying on his bed, and he was taking out a couple of old photos and looking at them.
“Well, what do you want to show me, Mr. Williams?”
“You see this picture? That’s my wife, Diana, and I on our wedding day. She was the most beautiful bride I’d ever seen. Oh, how I’d to chase her all over town. She was a beautiful flower, that one. All the bees were buzzing for her.

I remember one night on my way to the pub; I saw her sitting all by herself on a park bench, tears just streaking her lovely face. I went and sat next to her and asked, ‘Hey beautiful, why are you crying?’ Then she told me a long sad story of how she caught her boyfriend cheating on her with another woman, when she’d gone over to his house. So I said to her, ‘Honey, you’re a beautiful woman, and you’ve got something good going for you. See how many fellows, including me, are chasing after you? It’s because we can see what a precious jewel you are. And if your boyfriend can’t see that, then he’s the fool. He doesn’t deserve you if he treats you any less than a jewel.’

And that’s how I won her over. She fell right into my arms, and we were never separated again until ten years ago when she passed on. Here sweetheart, I want you to have it.”
“But Mr. Williams, this is far too precious for you. I couldn’t –”
“Please, I’ve made up my mind. Look at me, I’m old, and I can barely see that well. My memories are all I need.”
“Thank you, Mr. Williams,” I said, and walked over to the window.

It was as if he could sense what I was thinking.
“You still haven’t forgotten about Christopher, have you? Honey, if you’re in love with him, then you should go and be with him. Love is a beautiful thing and it would be a great tragedy if you lost it because of your sister. You can’t let her run your whole life.”

“Well, she’s my elder sister, and she’s just looking out for me.”
“Oh, and what does she know about love? Has she ever been in love? You and I, sweetheart; we’ve been there, and we both know there’s nothing better in the world than being in love with someone who loves you back and makes you feel special.” Then he motioned to me to sit next to him on the bed.

“Let me tell you a story, about a rabbit and a birdie. One day, the rabbit was enjoying his morning, just running around in the bushes foraging for some leaves to munch on. So the birdie, flying above in the sky, came down and landed next to the rabbit. ‘Hey rabbit! Can we play together,’ asked the birdie. But the rabbit didn’t say anything; he just ran on back to his burrow and didn’t come out till the birdie was gone.

Now, this went on for a couple of days, until the birdie decided to get to the bottom of things and investigate the rabbit’s mysterious behaviour. Whereupon, he followed the rabbit back to his burrow and called out, ‘Hey rabbit, don’t run away; I just want to be your friend!’

After a while, the rabbit popped out and said, ‘Look here bird, I ain’t tryin’ to be rude or anythin’, but you’re a total freak! All my life, I’ve been runnin’ around these bushes, but I ain’t never seen a bird that could talk with a rabbit. So, if you don’t mind, you better go and fly with your kind. Rabbits and birds just don’t mingle!’ And with that, they both went their separate ways.

Since then, the birdie has never opened his beak to speak. He only flies around chirping and whistling; he has never used his gift again to show what a unique and extraordinary birdie he is. If you ask me I’d say it’s a real pity. Don’t let it happen to you, sweetheart.

Don’t be like the birdie, who was told to shut up because he was different, and he did. Or the rabbit, who was a bigot and told everyone who wasn’t like him to shut up. Okay, honey?”
“Okay, Mr. Williams. Thanks for sharing with me. You know, you’re like the grandpa I never had,” I said and gave him a hug.

When I left Mr. Williams’ room, I made up my mind to give Christopher a call and see if we could meet to talk. So I called him on his cell phone and got surprised to hear him say that he was at the airport preparing to take a flight in an hour’s time. Thankfully, he agreed to wait for me to get there so I could tell him ‘something important’.

Fifteen minutes later, I was already at the airport, suggesting we find a private place to talk. Of course, he was a bit hesitant to comply with my requests; after all, I am the one who snubbed him a month ago.

“So, where are you off to?”
“Well, I want to go to Europe. I thought maybe I’d try and get away from this town and all its haunts. I’m looking for a new start in a new place.”
“Europe – wow, it’s a lovely place! I’ve always wanted to visit there some day. Maybe experience Italian culture, and French joie de vivre –”
“Look Sarah, I really don’t have much time, so just say what you’ve come to say and get it over and done with.”
“Okay, Christopher. I want to share with you something a good friend of mine related to me this morning.”

At that point, I told him the rabbit and bird story that Mr. Williams had recounted to me earlier on. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, I made the wrong choice; and I’m sorry. I let my sister run my life and tell me what to do, at the expense of my happiness. I love you, Christopher, and you’re the most important person in my life right now. I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life without you. Chris, please let’s put our past heartbreaks behind us and get married. What do you say?”

Christopher must have been baffled when I took the engagement ring back to him that morning a month ago, after having accepted his proposal only the night before. Right now, he was debating with himself on whether to take me back in his arms or turn away from me. All I could do was earnestly pray to God that he would give our love a chance.

“Listen, Sarah. I’m sorry, but I can’t; it’s too late now for this. You made your decision and I accepted it. I’m sorry, I have to go.” Then he left, and I stood there with a lovelorn look on my face, trying to convince myself that he had not just walked away from me forever; that this was just a bad dream. A few seconds later, he disappeared from my sight, and I figured I was only getting what was coming to me. “What goes around comes around,” I thought. So I turned and walked away too.

I could not go back to work and instead, I drove home. Fortunately, Kate had gone out in the morning, and would not be back till much later in the day. It would be a great showdown if she started giving me the third degree about skiving work, and I would have to explain that the reason was because I had gone chasing after Christopher. Needless to say, I did not want to be talked down to by her when I was going through the toughest heartbreak of my life.

Christopher’s indifference towards me had stunned me so much that I was not even able to cry, partly because it was still unreal to me. Nonetheless, I declared with a feat of stoicism, “It’s better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.” Moments later, I heard the doorbell ring. Not feeling in a welcoming mood, I let it keep ringing. Eventually, whoever it was would give up and go away. But then I heard a voice call out my name. I was not quite sure whose it was, but the second time it came through, I was definitely sure that it was Christopher’s. So I ran to the door and opened it.

“Look at us, Sarah. We’re both going about like two fools. Two wrongs don’t make a right. The heck with everyone else; I love you and I still want to marry you with all my heart. I don’t want to be like one of those cynics who don’t believe that when you have love, then you have everything.”
Then he got down on one knee and said, “So, if you’re still interested, will you marry me?”
“Oh Christopher, yes, I’ll marry you!” It was the most magical moment of my life, I thought, as he slipped the engagement ring back onto my finger, and I stood there shedding tears of joy.

It seemed the best was yet to come, because it turned out that Christopher had planned more in mind. He took me in his arms and whispered, “I hear that Europe is quite lovely this time of year. Would you like to come with me and find out for yourself?”
Well, of course you know my answer was yes. We both wanted to go as far away as possible, where nobody could interfere with our amorous bliss.

So I packed my bags, penned a note to Kate explaining everything, and placed it on the dining-table. Christopher and I went back to the airport, where he bought me a plane ticket. We truly were meant to be together; even the divine had played a hand in giving us another chance to work things out. It is then that I remembered the chapter in the Bible that spoke about love. It said that ‘love is eternal’; that ‘it believes all things’. “Even God is a believer in love,” I thought to myself, smiling.

Christopher handed me the plane ticket and said, “I thought we could start with Italy, and then work our way to the other fantastic places in Europe. What do you think about an Italian-style wedding?”
“Oh perfecto, mi amor,” I exclaimed, as I leaned in and gave him a gentle kiss. Love was all we needed to take us anywhere we wanted to go.

I would send Mr. Williams a postcard of Italy, and let him know how we were doing. As for Kate, I would send her a photo of our wedding; and maybe once she saw how happy we were together, she would cast her unfounded notions aside. All I knew, and wanted to know for that matter, was that Mr. Williams was right, and Kate was wrong – love is everything.


THE END.
© Copyright 2005 Nikita Thorne (kakees at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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