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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2203069
Rated: E · Short Story · Romance/Love · #2203069
I was searching far and wide for you but never did I find you until I returned home.
Lost



“Wow! So you'll do it huh? Well, that's nice to hear. And I was sure hoping that you'd say yes to ghost writing my story for me because I can't write a lick and never could. But you know, we could've done this interview over the phone instead of you coming all the way out here although, I have to say, by you doing so, you've become my very first guest in over eight months and for that I'm truly grateful.”

“Anyway, since you're here now, I guess we should get started with the interrogation but before we do that I was just mulling around the idea that I, in a somewhat watered-down way, should tell you my story so that you'll have a better idea on what queries you should be slinging at me when the time comes for you to be doing that. However, before I can even do this I need you to help me to decide where I should begin a story that I've been wanting to tell for ages.”

“And it's an absolutely true story too that needs a good starting place and that place in your humble opinion would be where? And yeah, now that I'm thinking on it a bit, I guess that was a really stupid query to ask considering that I've not told you anything about this tale of mine beforehand but I do believe that you'll be able to answer that question quite properly once you've heard what I have to tell you. And so then, with this in mind, I'll start by saying that I once, a long time ago, knew a man who was living a peaceful life that swiftly came to an end in a matter of minutes and this I'd be willing to swear an oath on.”

“And he, this old fella that I'm speaking of, was a prosperous man that was shorter than some but taller than others who often entertained the most curious of thoughts like the one that crept into his mind on a night that he was resting in a chair that was placed on a porch. And this thought, that he deeply contemplated, which was a question that shook him harder than any earthquake has done to man, went something like this, and that is, what, you old fool, do you suppose would happen if you, an unassuming man, who loves his solitude like a beaver loves a log, just packed up and left town without so much as a whisper. What then?”

“And the answer that rushed back to him on that night like the way a powerful wave of water overcomes a shoreline, which was a response that's as gloomy as gloomy can get, was simply that nothing, and that means nothing at all, would occur if he indeed actually did what he hypothetically proposed. And the reason that this was true was because he, due to his particular lifestyle, knew no one and no one knew him so therefore who would even care if he was gone and this was a very sobering reality to finally come to terms with.”

“A realization, that the more it sunk in, the more it pushed him to do something, anything at all, to change the unfortunate situation that was now weighing on him like a thousand pounds of wet dirt, and so, the next day, with the coming of the moon, the man quickly began to pack up his belongings for the long trip ahead. A journey, to find love, that he highly suspected would take him from one end of the Earth to the other.”

“And as he was in the process of gathering up things to put into a small knapsack he happened to glance in the general direction of a window that he, himself, had looked through on many occasions. And it was here, on the outer ledge of this soiled window, that a little bird stood which was the same one that began to sing like it's been doing everyday for years and years without missing a beat.”

“And the song that this bird sang was so astonishingly beautiful that it left the old man with a feeling of bittersweet because the man, who truly enjoyed listening to the bird, had no intention of returning until he had found what he was searching for and that which was imperative to find was going to evade him until he had turned into a pile of dust or so this is what the man figured anyhow.”

“An assumption, it was, that would not dissuade him for he was a man full of determination and a man like that can't be reasoned with and will never back down once his mind is made up on doing whatever it is that needs to be done which is why, after he had finished moving this to there and placing that on top of this, he took a hold of the sack, that was now full, and slung it over his shoulder just before he locked up the house and began a quest that he never thought, not even once, that he'd be going on.”

“And it was during this mission of the most important kind, which occurred around the three hundred and twenty three day mark, that he, the old man, received a message that he had never expected to get who, at that very moment, was now far, far away from the house that he had left. And it had been delivered by a small boy who he knew not.”

“And on this note was a simple request, that being, would you care for a nice cool drink of water? And this is when the man looked at the boy and asked him the following question, which was, how did you find me? And the boy, who was standing right next to him, politely replied––”

“By accident really but not quite.”

“And the man said––”

“Oh? And what do you mean by that?”

“And the boy responded––”

“I mean, sir, that I was told by one of the locals that you might be out this way but I couldn't find you when I first got here, I did, however, see this bird who was incredibly beautiful and decided to follow it for I had never seen its like before. And as I watched it flying high above my head I came out of the woods and into this clearing where I saw it circling over you.”

“And the man said, looking up––”

“Ah. Now that interesting but it's gone now and so what about the note, meaning, where did you get it?”

“And the boy replied––”

“From the man that I work for?”

“And the old man continued with––”

“Oh? And who is this man that you're referring to son? And does he have a name?”

“And the boy said––”

“And that, he does sir, as any other I would imagine. And his name is Mel. And he runs the post office.”

“And the old man responded––”

“Ah, I see. And so then, was he the one who sent this note?”

“And the boy said––”

“Well, yes sir, in a way that's true, however the note didn't really come from him but more like it came to him.”

“And the old man said––”

“Oh? And do you know who sent it to him? At least you should know that much.”

“And the boy replied––”

“And that's completely understandable that you might think that I should but I don't. I do believe, though, that Mel, who's the smartest man that I've ever known, would have an answer to your question and I can go ask him for you if you'd like. And I can do that right now if you truly want me to.”

“And the old man said––”

“Of which, youngster, I don't because I, like you, also have a fine pair of legs that can take me wherever I wish to go and besides that I'm not part of the lazy crowd––”

“Which is something that the man immediately proved when he slowly began to walk in the direction of the same town that the boy had just come from.”

“And the answer that he got from Mel was that the message had came from another town to the north and that’s all that he really knew. However, Mel was positive that the post office, that was located there, would know a lot more about this note so the man, after hearing this, packed up some food and water and went to that town expecting to get an answer to his question but instead of getting one he was told, once again, that the answer he seeks is still farther north.

“And so, that's where the old man went. And again, he was told to go north. And this is what happened time and again, from town to town, always trudging north until one day he ended up in front of a place that was familiar.”

“A place that looked as run down as he felt. And on a window ledge of this house was a few inches of dust that hadn't been disturbed for many sunrises and sunsets. And next to this ledge, pinned on a wall, was a note that said: to the owner of this place, from a woman in need, who lives at 2020 Oak Street, I would like to inform you that I have something of great value that I've been wanting to give to you and only you for a very long time. And it's a something that could instantly be yours if you would just come and see me when you get back. And I do hope that you'll return real soon because time is growing short and getting shorter as time moves on.”

“And this the old man knew right away which is why he, with a quickness in his step, went to the address that was given and rapped on the door then waited for someone to answer and sure enough someone did. And the person that did this very thing was a woman in her early eighties who, with the door now open, said this to him and that was––”

“Where in the world have you been? And you do know that you should've been here over an hour ago but I guess the skunk, that needs to be carted away, which is the same hooligan that's been terrorizing my chickens for the last four nights, isn't in a hurry either. And you can find this critter in a pile of loose hay that I keep in the barn which has me a tad curious at this point in time how you, being dressed the way that you are, plan to remove it from that there place without any protection or, dare I say, without a cage to put it in. I mean, it just seems totally silly to me that they would send you over here with a pipe wench when you really needed a blowtorch.”

“And the old man said––”

“And this, who I assume is the lady of the house, is an observation that I completely agree with but then again I wasn't directed to come here and get rid of mister stinky pants for you. In other words, I'm not the person that you're looking for.”

“She then said––”

“Which is a real shame to hear for you appear to be rather capable of doing this for me even though you're somewhat under prepared. And so then, why have you come if not to handle my somewhat smelly issue and please, if you don't mind, be as direct as possible because I don't want to stand here all day holding this screen door.”

“And the old man said––”

“And nor would I. And because this is so I'll do as you requested and get right to the point, which is, are you the one who left a message by a certain window at a particular house that's taking up space in your fine little town.”

“And she replied––”

“Well, to be completely honest with you, I can't say for sure who might have did the thing that you said they've done but I can tell you that I, several years ago, did leave a note by a particular window at a certain house but I never did get a reply to it and that, needless to say, caused my heart to shatter like glass smashing into concrete.”

“In fact, I had to post it up a second time due to the fact that the first one just up and vanished which occurred because an angel with the biggest and most gorgeous wings of them all decided he or she was going to personally hand it to the one that it was intended for or so this is what I was told by some of my friends which sounds rather outlandish to me.”

“And the old man said––”

“And that, my fair lady, I happen to concur with which brings me to my next question, that being, when you decided to post and re-post did you, by any chance, know the occupant that was living there? I assume that you did.”

“And she responded––”

“And that would be a good guess on your part but the truth is I sort of didn't and I sort of did. And I say sort of didn't because he and I never actually did anything together. And I say sort of did because when I was at work, on my lunch break, I used to watch him from a set of stairs. And this I would do five days a week without exception either. And you know what else, the more that I went about observing him in secret, the more that I came to adore him, and the more that happened, the more I realized that we were meant for each other and that's when I knew that I had to reach out to him in some meaningful way without actually revealing who I was which is why I began to make a list of the things that I had or could get a hold of that he might like to receive as a gift.”

“And it was within this list, that I speak of, that I found the perfect one which ended up being my bird. And it had to be him because he, my most favorite possession who wasn't really a possession, had the ability to sing an assortment of ballads that can't be matched by any in the land. And this I gave to him each and everyday for months upon weeks and weeks upon months until, on this one rainy afternoon, I got enough courage to visit him. But when I went to his place I found that he, this man who had captured my heart without a single word, was gone but never did I think that he would be gone for good which is why I, like a hawk trying to spot its quarry, kept diligently watching from the stairs day after day until I could no longer work anymore and had to retire.”

“And it was around that time, on one spring morning, as I was strolling along a path that was near a forest, I decided to post up that note, the one that you may or may not have bumped into, with the hope that if he, for some reason, should ever come back from where he took off to, he would instantly read it then quickly drop over for a visit so that I could tell him all that I've just told you today, but this, as sad as it is for me to say, he's never done and that's why my heart has been, and will forever be, a broken mess which has me wondering who you are and why do you even care about a note that was placed at a house that's been as empty as my own heart has?”

“And the old man replied, while fighting back the tears that wanted to flow––”

“I just am. And who I happen to be doesn't really matter but why I've come does. And it does because I’ve traveled for who knows how many miles in search of something that I only had to walk a few feet to find and now, as it stands, I'm badly in need of a nice cool drink of water. And I don't suppose, that when it comes to this fine wine, that you would have any of it left to give to me, would you?”

“And she said, with that amazing smile––”

“Why sure I do. And it's still some of the most refreshing stuff that can be found anywhere or so I've been told anyhow. And certainly, I will give you a glass or two of it if you'd be willing to sit with me on the porch for a little while as I wait for animal control to get over here. And I do like to sit on my wooden porch at night and gaze up at the stars as I drink a bit of lemonade. And do you like lemonade too?”

“And I replied will all sincerity––”

“And that I do. And yeah, it would be my pleasure to sit by your side for as long as you need me to, in fact, I was just thinking that maybe, perhaps, we could get to know each other a lot better. That maybe, if at all possible, I could move into that house, the one that's been unnecessarily abandoned for so long and give it a respectable cleaning after I do. And perhaps even paint the outside in the not so distant future. And what do you think about that? Could you use a new friend because I know that I sure can.”

“And she said, in the sweetest of ways––”

“And so can I. And also, if he was still around anyhow, I would've gladly, from time to time, sent my bird to you which was the same one that used to watch me weep over Mr. David Gray Thomson's disappearance day and night. And like the man, who's name that I've written in my diary more times than I can count, he, my bird, will not be forgotten either and nor will the song that he use to sing to a man who now only occasionally frolics in my dreams––”

“Which brings us, miss ghost writer, to the end of my tale but yet I should add a few more things to what I've just said and they are, that I, over the last three months, did my best to replace the man that she had lost that she never even knew that she had found again. The same man, namely me, that a month ago lost his soul mate to cancer who, with a great amount of respect and love, knows her, my one and only, as Elisabeth Rose Tyler.”

“And now, as far as I can tell, the time has come to find a good beginning to a love story that doesn't have one for you see without one of them it can never really be a true love story at all and that's a fact.”

O Fim
© Copyright 2019 Joseph Mack (strategos101 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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