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Rated: E · Short Story · Other · #976476
A young man visits an old relation
Alfred pulled his car into the driveway. He needed this break…college life was so demanding on him.
Alfred got out of his car and walked up to the door…hesitating a moment and double checking the house number on the mailbox and his directions.
Alfred lifted his index finger to the doorbell. Checking the house number again, he plunged his finger into the little round doorbell.
Alfred glanced over his shoulder, he heard movement coming from within the house.
The door opened. A little old lady poked her head out of the door.

The little old lady had fed Alfred a good meal, then washed his dirty clothes, and finally brought him to a spare bedroom upstairs.

After he had unloaded all of his luggage, which only consisted of enough clothes to fit in one medium sized suitcase, he returned downstairs and found the little old woman sitting in a rocking chair. She seemed to be deep in thought. Alfred took a seat near her rocking chair.
“Edna, do you need any help with anything around the house?” Alfred asked her.
“Hmm…? Dear…how do you know my name?” Edna asked, instead of answering Alfred’s question.
“We talked on the phone this morning, as well as a week ago.” Alfred attempted to remind her.
Edna sat in silence…in deep thought...
“Don’t you remember? He insisted.
“Now dear…I know you should be here for some reason or another…but I don’t recall ever seeing you before.”
Alfred sat in silence for a couple of minutes. Gazing around the room…he spotted a picture portraying a couple near a Cajun restaurant. He walked across the room and picked it up. He fondly stared at it for a few minutes before walking back across the room to where Edna was gently rocking.
“Is this you?” Alfred asked.
“Yes…I do believe it is. Funny how the memory works sometimes, isn’t it? I can still remember my first date, my first kiss, my wedding, all with the same man. But I can’t remember talking to you earlier this morn.” Edna clutched the framed photograph closely for a few moments. “My, you and my husband sure strike a similar resemblance. My, if we hadn’t have had any children, I would have sworn you were my son!”
‘We may be closer than you think.” Alfred responded.
“We may. I still remember my Arnie… but I can’t remember his passing…I just…it was…” Edna seemed to be on the verge of tears.
“It is ok. I’m sure he would prefer if you remembered his life, not his passing.” Alfred comforted.
“I guess you are right. I remember him so well…he was always so strong and vibrant. Even in our older years…He always took such good care of me.” She sat staring at Alfred for a moment “You really do bear a striking resemblance.”
“Yes, Edna, I do. Don’t I? Is this another picture of you two?”
“Of course this is our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Look, he hasn’t aged a day between our honeymoon picture and our twenty-fifth.”
“That is amazing…he doesn’t have a wrinkle, or a gray hair.”
“Well…he used dye to keep his hair that perfect jet black. And his skin was so perfect, a wrinkle would be ashamed to find itself upon it’s surface.”
Alfred looked Edna in the eyes, an almost hopeful look on his face. She looked at him, “I’m sorry, honey, but can you help an old lady to bed?”
“Sure thing,”

After he had Edna safely tucked away in bed, Alfred sadly walked around the house.
Underneath a massive pile of keepsakes in the old office, Alfred found an old piece of wood.
Alfred took the wood up to the guest bedroom. He held it close to his chest and cried himself to sleep.
The engraving in the wood read:

Mr. Alfred Stone and Mrs. Edna McMichael Stone
First wedding anniversary: 1948


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