Willow Creek

Willow Creek

         “Mrs. Westcott? It’s time to go for a walk Mrs. Westcott. Let me get your coat.” Karen’s soft voice gently awakened the old woman from her slumber. The large white chair she sat in practically engulfed the old woman’s frail body, leaving her feet dangling just above the floor. She blinked her heavy eyes a few times before letting out a meek yawn. The light shone in the window and gave the atmosphere a warm glow. Everything was almost too surreal. Even the light sounds of a violin playing on an old radio in the corner surrounded her ears trying desperately to make this place, Willow Creek, feel like a home.

         Mrs. Westcott ran a hand over the book that lay across her lap, one that she carried with her at all times. It was a leather bound book with the cover so worn you couldn’t even see remnants of the title. The old woman’s eyes began to glisten and her face went soft, she was lost in a thought. Karen cut her off accidentally by placing a coat over her shoulders and Mrs. Westcott looked up, surprised that she was snapped to reality so quickly.

         “Alright, Mrs. Westcott. It’s a little chilly out.” Karen smiled. She was always right on schedule. As soon as the clock struck noon Karen would be guiding the older woman outside, and at 1:15 back inside for lunch. She would spark up the normal conversations as though all of the clients had Alzheimer’s disease and no one would remember repeating themselves day after day.

         Mrs. Westcott just smiled as Karen took her hand and guided her down the hall. She knew that this young girl was only doing her job but, it didn’t bother her. As the two women stepped outside the sun shone down brightly, warming their faces even though the bitter wind would rush past. They walked along the pathway and sat on a dark wooden bench under a willow tree.

         “I do love Autumn in New England.” Mrs. Westcott smiled peacefully, hoping to get Karen to talk to her normally. Karen simply nodded in agreement, pulling her own jacket tighter to her chin. The leaves were warm reds and orange, spotting the ground as though they were placed by an artists paintbrush. Mrs. Westcott sighed before turning to Karen with a wide smile. “Have you ever seen the sky so blue?”

         The women leaned back on the bench together looking upwards in silence for a while. They let the scent of the leaves fill their noses and the sound of the birds fill their ears. Without moving at all Karen felt so peaceful she could fall fast asleep.





         The old woman pursed her lips in thought. She brought her hand back down to the cover of the old book. “Karen, Did you know I was about to be married once?”

         Karen looked over surprised. She’d taken care of Mrs. Westcott for 2 years now and the only thing she knew of her past was that she was living alone in a home she couldn’t afford any longer. Mrs. Westcott was a quiet lady that went about her own business day in and day out, no one really knew anything about her. “Really? What happened?”

         “Well, Where did it begin?…Ah!” Mrs. Westcott brought her hand to her lips, “I remember! It began way-- before you were even born, In a small town called St. Michaels…”

         “It was late September. The snow littered the ground only long enough to melt, leaving the roads glistening in the daylight. I remember because it was early for snow even in Massachusetts. I sat on my couch in the den with the phone in my hand, nervously fidgeting with  the cord.  Jonathon was supposed to meet me for dinner but was already an hour late.”

         “Jonathon?” Karen asked in a coy voice, interrupting the story. Mrs. Westcott looked over. She was a little dumbfounded by the quickness of Karen’s question. “Oh, I didn’t mean to stop you. I was just curious, you’ve never spoken of him before.” Karen sat back again slightly embarrassed.

         “I suppose I just don’t know what to say about him.” As Mrs. Westcott laughed softly the wrinkles in her face grew deeper, and her age became more clear than ever. “He was a very handsome man. His eyes would reflect the clouds and when I looked into them I felt like I was dreaming. He was the type of man that would always find good in things you wouldn’t be able to see.” Her eyes wandered up to the branches of the willow tree that swayed in the wind.

         “Anyhow, I was waiting for his phone call. I was so excited when he told me he was taking me into the city. We were going to eat at a very fancy restaurant I’ve never had the money to go inside of. You know the kind.” She put out her hand to count the extravagancies. “A fireplace glowing on the back wall, and tables with white cloths draped over them. There were always candles or flowers in the middle in some delicate arrangement. One of those places that could make you feel like the Queen of England for a night.” Her eyes lit up as though she were sitting in the room browsing the menu as she spoke. “I wore my favorite shade of red lipstick to match my dress.”

         Mrs. Westcott began to look as though she were on the verge of tears. She was remembering how soft her skin was, and how the red lipstick would make her look frail and beautiful. Karen decided it was best not to interrupt or ask anymore questions. She looked away and waited for the woman to continue.

         “I believe I had a dream but, it was so vivid. I closed my eyes and I saw Jonathon in his car nearing my house. He must have been only a few minutes away. The snow was falling harder and it must have been difficult to see. I remember seeing his eyes look panicked and the sound of tires screeching.” She placed her fragile hand over her chest and paused.

         “My heart raced and the dream grew black. Oh, I woke up so suddenly I jumped from my chair and dropped the phone. I was shaking and a cold sweat ran over my entire body. I had to find him. I knew I had to.”

         “I ran outside and down the street letting the snowflakes land on my bare shoulders and melt. The only sounds I could hear were my heeled shoes clicking with every touch to the sidewalk. I ran around a bend in my road and saw his car. It was upside down on the side of the road and I could see him inside. I looked to the road itself and saw where the snow had been scuffed away. There were spots of blood and a deer laying near the middle line. I turned to look back at the mangled vehicle. Every bit of strength I had surged me faster to reach him.”

         Mrs. Westcott sighed. “ I remember screaming but it didn’t even sound like my own voice. A woman came out of a nearby house and dialed the ambulance. She came over to me as I stood helplessly and cried. I did everything I could. When I heard the sirens draw near I was pushed back to safety. I went with him when they loaded him into the ambulance, I stayed by his side in the hospital and held his hand praying for him to be alright. It didn’t matter to me when the doctors said he didn’t even know I was there.”          A tear fell from her eyes and ran down her cheeks like water to a dry riverbed. It weaved and filled the furrows. “ To this day I think that it was a gift from God that for a moment he was able to speak. It was when none of the Doctors were around. Jonathon squeezed my hand briefly and told me that he was sorry. He told me to find his coat and take what was in his left pocket. He whispered he loved me and closed his eyes. I remember hearing a long steady beep but before I knew what had happened I was being rushed out of the room.”

         Mrs. Westcott let out a slight breath to stop herself from crying. She’d been holding onto the leather bound book tighter as she spoke. “You know, he never left me.” she said with her eyes glistening. “ He’s watched over me all my life.”

         Karen wiped her eyes and looked at the book in Mrs. Westcott‘s lap. This time, Mrs. Westcott slowly lifted the cover to reveal a hole had been drilled from the center through all of the pages. Her shaking hand fumbled into the cavity and managed to pull out a golden ring. It was dotted with small gems and inside the band was written “I love you.” The old woman held it up admiring the way it gleamed in the sun after so many years and then looked over at Karen.

         Karen smiled at what she was seeing, not because it was happy. It was heartbreaking. Mrs. Westcott pulled Karen’s hand over and slowly dropped the jewelry into it. “ Karen, I want you to wear this.” She closed Karen’s hand in her own and paused. “I want you to put this on and never forget the people you care about. I think you need to go home now dear, and tell your family you love them.”

         Karen found herself gazing out of her kitchen window. The cup of tea in her hand left a trail of steam dancing upwards. She sat down at the table and picked up a leather bound book with the cover so worn you couldn‘t even see remnants of the title. She lifted it open carefully and pulled out a piece of paper. “Mrs. Vivienne Westcott, August 2, 1921- January 15, 1996.”

After reading it over a few times, Karen took a sip from her tea and put the paper back. She looked to the sky that was more blue than she’d ever seen it before and whispered “Thank you.”