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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1974553-A-Fond-Farewell
Rated: 13+ · Other · Young Adult · #1974553
The place was in shambles, the kind of mess when things are being packed up
The moment that Alexander heard, he headed down the street to Shirley's house. In one swift motion he jumped from his bicycle, ran past two men struggling with a sectional sofa and in to the house. The place was in shambles, the kind of mess when things are being packed up, crated and set aside for storage or for the garbage. In the kitchen on one of the three remaining kitchen chairs sat Shirley's mom smoking a cigarette and talking on the phone reviewing her travel plans with some distant voice.

“We should be almost to Ohio by midnight and then we will stop somewhere.” She motioned to Alexander with her cigarette and gestured to the backyard. Alexander smiled, nodded and headed for the back.

Out in the backyard Shirley and her sister, Lisa were talking and laughing. Her baby sister was busy playing, holding a conversation with her favorite doll telling her to remember the tree, the yard, and the friends that they made here. Time to move on she said mimicking her mother. Lisa spied Alexander first and let out her favorite Indian war hoop.

“No more stories. I liked the one about the boy who never grew up and the fairies. I wish you were coming with us, when we move, you tell the best stories.” She held up the doll to introduce her to Alexander. “Mom always messes up the voices. Oh well, time to move on.”

Shirley looked around, "the movers already took the yard stuff."

She grabbed Alexander’s hand and led him over to the steps.

“My uncle has a job for my mom, now that my dad is dead. There I said it. That wasn't as hard as I thought. Why go to war? Do you know? My mom says that if women ruled the world there wouldn't be any wars. If I write to you will you write back?”

“Yeah, sure.:”

They sat for a bit on the steps, quiet. Lisa had gone inside for lunch or something, anything with peanut butter. Out front the movers dropped something and let go with a string of recognizable adult words. The two of them looked at one another and laughed. Nervously he took her hand.

“You're hand is all sweaty.”

“Sorry, I'm nervous I think. I wish you didn't have to go.”

“I have to take care of my mom. You know she has this problem about my dad being killed. She sleeps for days. Where is this Vietnam anyway? He promised he would only be gone for year. He called me his little angel. He taught me French, he wanted to take us all to Paris sometime. He loved that city.”

She held a box was covered in pink material with painted scenes representing France. Sometimes quite a bit can be said in silence.

“Fourth of July was fun.”

“Yeah, the fireworks this year were great.”

“Not what I'm talking about, you goof.” She punched him in the ribs. “Or did you forget already?”

Embarrassed he hung his head. “No, of course not.” He held her hand tighter.

“My first kiss. How about you?”

“Me too.”

“I mean my first kiss with a boy, not a cousin or something like that.”

“Me too. Not the boy part, though.”

“How come we had so much fun? My mom was hurting so much. I think that the Fourth of July will always be special. Listen, this is for you. It's a sand dollar.” She pulled the shell from the box and placed in his hand. “The last time we were at the beach my dad found this and gave it to me. I want you to have it to remember me and him. He was a hero, you know, we have the paper that proves it.” Tears began to fill her eyes. “I have to go.”

In his mind he played out some scene from a movie where he and Shirley played the main characters, he grabbed her hand and twirled her back in to his arms and kissed her goodbye. Before he could act, Shirley had gone in to the house.

Out front the large moving truck had closed its doors and was revving its engines to go. Someone was going through the house closing windows, slamming doors and pulling down shades. Alexander sat on the steps staring at the sand dollar. He wanted to cry. It seemed a piece of his life was going. He tried to think of the good times, that's how he was taught to deal with things. He was the son of a soldier and grew up with people going in and out of his short life all the time. Remember the good times and you will never be sad. That's what his mom had said. He watched as the station wagon pulled out of the driveway. Shirley waved, Lisa waved her doll. As the car got to the end of the driveway it stopped.

Shirley jumped out ran over to him and gave him a kiss, squeezed his hand tight and jumped back in the car. The car sat there for a minute. The driver's side window rolled down, Shirley's mom stuck her head out wrapped up in an aqua scarf and a pair of sunglasses looking like Jackie Kennedy. “I'm expecting good things of you, young man. Don't disappoint us.”

And with that the car pulled out and was gone. At first Alexander thought to follow them on his bicycle and then thought against it. He stood there in the driveway for the longest time. It was a brilliant blue sky day with white wisp clouds. He walked to the front of the house now empty, deserted and lonely. He hopped on his bike and went looking for his friends. There were adventures out there and it was his job to find them.
© Copyright 2014 Duane Engelhardt (dmengel54 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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