It was a warm Sunday when we first walked along the shore. I still remember the feeling of the coarse sand that shifted underneath my bare feet; and the warmth of the bright sun as it beat down on me. The gentle spray of the ocean as the waves crashed along the shoreline would keep us cool throughout the day. The sound of your gentle voice called me out to chase you into the water, even though you knew I did not like to swim. I followed you anyway. The way your ocean-colored eyes glistened in the sunlight on that day, and the blue ocean’s radiant glimmer, will live forever in my memory. Your hair, fair and silky, swayed in the gentle summer breeze.
Thus with time, these memories ripen. Your vivid image, along with that endless golden horizon, come to visit my dreams each night. That ocean, still as blue and crisp as I can remember it, and the sky painted with the occasional clouds that would give a cool shade for a moments pleasure. But now, my dear Isabella, you rest in a Bocote overcoat of my labor in our land of pine. Dreaming of bliss, eternally without happening.
It’s only been a week since you have left me. The ceremony we had held for you was full of smiles, as you had wished. Your gentle soul would prefer to be celebrated than mourned. As much as we tried to smile, our faces were drenched by the rue of your passing. We all felt you there, in spirit. Almost as if you were whispering to us the words, “Everything is going to be okay,” in sweet silence. The priest, who we have come to know as Father Victor, spoke of you with intimacy as a beloved friend. The Father’s sermon alleviated our tears, helping us to celebrate your memory instead of mourning.
It’s only been about three years since I had last seen that bright smile; yet, it feels like forever. As much as you would of wished for me to move on, I simply cannot find it in my heart to do so. I have always been the weak on when it came to these sort of things. I was never as strong as you.
Everything in our home serves as a remembrancer of some sort. I could never cook but I still remember the way you lavishly worked in the kitchen. There were even times when I would try to learn your craft, only to burn everything that I attempted to make. Just remembering that time when I burned that meatloaf, brings a symphony of tears and chuckling. Have I gone mad; or have I become so hopeless without you? I don’t know but I need to rid this sorrow etched within my heart.
Instead of worrying about what becomes of the dead; I should be worrying about what becomes of those who live. Our story may have ended ubruptly, my love. But, mine is only beginning. I hope you can forgive me for my selfishness, Isabella. It’s finally time for me to move on with my life. As much as I love to live in your memory, it brings nothing more than pain.
“Everything okay there, Schmidt?” Sam, the bartender asks me with an eyebrow raised.
“Yea, I was just thinking, Sam. Can you pour me another?” I raise my empty mug to him, with a drunken smile.
“I think you had a little to much tonight, Schmidt. Why don’t you go home and call it a quits tonight?” Sam crosses his arms giving me that same old glare. I know I won’t win against him when he’s made up his mind. He’s stubborn, but kind.
“Could I get a glass of water, then?” I roll my eyes. Sam grabs a glass from the counter and fills it with water from the tap.
“You should go out and do something other than coming here every night. As much as I love taking your money, it’d make more sense to go out and stay away from the booze,” Sam wipes down the the part of the counter next to me, “You’ve only been here for about two weeks. Go out and make some friends other than your favorite bartender,” he smirks.
“You never know what you’ll find out there.” Sam winks at me before walking away to help another one of his guests.
I grab the glass and move away from the counter towards one of the empty tables closer to the mounted televisions. I’ve never been one for enjoying sports, but, at least it’ll pass the time. Maybe Sam is right. Maybe I shouldn’t be coming here to drink everynight. I’m still new to Meadow Valley, and it wouldn’t hurt to meet a few new friends. I don’t know anyone here, and I feel like I’m getting a little lonelier by the passing days.
I just inherited my grandmother’s farm, and decided that I wanted to get away from the city life as a software developer. I thought that being in front of a computer all day was bad, but here I am developing a bad habit of alcoholism just to pass the time. I came here to get away from the life of a software developer, and live a simpler but hard-working life.
I guess I’ll just figure out things in the morning and go around town introducing myself. Meadow Valley isn’t that big after all; there’s only a hand-full of people here.
Out of the corner of my eye, a girl around my age dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt walks up to the other side of the table looking down at me.
“Mind if I join you?”
She was a new face at this bar, at least for me that is. Red-headed, freckles, brown eyes, and shortened hair that didn’t stretch pass her ears. Her jawline, protruding sharp and announced.
“I don’t mind,” I gesture to the chair across from me. She pulls the chair out and turns it around so that the back is facing the table; she sits down leaning her head atop the back.
“We don’t get that many new faces ‘round here, who are ya?” She stares long and hard, “You’re not that new guy who was taking over Grandma Linda’s ranch?” The woman raises her brow, eagerly awaiting an answer.
“That I am. I used to come down here all the time as a kid to help her out during the summers. I was kind of surprised she left me the land instead of one of my cousins that live in the next town over,” I say as I take a drink from the glass, “My name’s Jackson Schmidt, it’s a pleasure.”
“Nice to meet ya, Jackson. I’m Adelaide Marie Mollohan, people call me Addie for short.” Addie outstretches her arm across the table, waiting for me to shake it. I reciprocate and shake her hand.
“Why doncha let me buy you a drink,” Addie shifts her attention towards the bar, “Hey Sam, can you bring over a couple of beers,” she shouts.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
“He’s at his limit for tonight, Addie. He should—” Sam gets cut off.
“Just bring the damn Blue Moons, Sam! He’s a big boy, he can handle his drinks.” Addie smirks as Sam gives up and begins to work on the order.
“I honestly shouldn’t drink any more tonight. I’ve already downed three of them, and I’m already feeling a little tipsy. But thank you, anyway.” I give a plastered smile at Addie, as she returns a mischievous one.
“Nonsense, you can never drink too much. Just sit back and enjoy the damned free beer,” Addie says, “That bartender may seem like he puts his foot down, all ya gotta do is give him a little push.” Addie laughs.
I guess I won’t be driving home tonight then. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to enjoy myself like this, and not only drink to satiate the feelings of loss, and hopelessness. Did I find myself a friend tonight, I wonder? My first friend in a long while happens to be someone I met in a bar. If I recall correctly, didn’t my mother warn me about making friends in these type of places? Well, it doesn’t matter. She seems nice and the kind to party.
We passed the time talking and drinking. This girl— I mean Addie, has me laughing like no tomorrow. One drink became two in what felt no time at all. The night passed quickly, and before I knew it, it was an hour before close.
“Where did time go tonight, Addie? I didn’t even realize that it got this late,” I chuckle, “I forgot to ask though, what do you do around here?”
“My daddy and momma are farmers, and so am I. We own the farm just to the south of town. We grow a lotta corn, tobacco, and wheat in the summer months,” Addie says, “If you ever swing by, I’m sure we could give ya some kind of bargain.”
“I’ll have to take you up on that sometime. I’ve never smoked fresh tobacco.” I say before finishing the rest of the beer in my glass.
“The last harvest we did is still drying out in the sheds, it’ll be a few more days before it’s ready; if you want to stop by then.” Addie chugs down the rest of her glass before slamming it down on the table. I’m surprised it didn’t shatter at the force it hit the table.
“Addie will you be careful with the glasses. You can’t keep breaking them!” Sam shouts from across the room.
“Sorry, Sam!” Addie waves and gives a nervous smile, “I gotta be more careful. He’s gonna end up making me pay for the glasses I break.”
“I should have done that after the last five. How can I make money if I can’t serve anything?” Sam glances at Addie. He lets out a sigh and comes to the table to collect the glasses. He hands Addie the bill before walking off and shaking his head.
“Sam is like family to me, as much as I come here and tell him all my problems. He’s kind of like a therapist. Hey may not say what you might like to hear, but it’s truth and it helps.”
“Well it was a lotta fun tonight, Jackson. We should do this again sometime ‘round,” She says as she almost falls off the chair, leaning, “Why don’t we trade numbers. I could even introduce ya to the folk around here.”
I smile and nod my head as I pull my phone out from my back pocket. We exchange numbers before she happily runs out of the bar waving goodbye. I leave my portion of the bill from earlier on the table along with a tip for Sam. I waddle from the counter to the door. I didn’t even bother taking my keys because I’m in no condition to drive tonight. That’s not a big deal though, where I live it’s only about a thirty minute jog. The only issue I have to worry about is making it home safe. Hopefully, that is.
Looking up at the night sky, I notice that everything is more clear in the countryside. Back in the city, you’d be lucky to catch a glimpse of a few stars glimmering and fading away. The flickering and buzzing of the streetlights— and billboards— will blanket the sky in darkness. Isn’t it kind of funny that something we use to illuminate things would keep others from being visible? We tend to sacrifice the beauty of the world for our innate pleasures and desires. Would it kill anyone just to sit back for a moment and throw all of those feelings away; just so they can witness a spectacular like this? Just so they could witness the seemingly infinite mass of stars dancing around in the cosmos.
Maybe the alcohol is just getting to me right now. It wouldn’t surprise me if anything I’d do or say right now would make much sense. That's alcohol for you: destructive, confusing, and tends to make people do and say stupid shit. Alas, it is also a good way to forget about life for a while, much like Billy Joel sung once in my favorite song— Piano Man. Sometimes I can’t help myself to use it for this reason. We all want to forget or escape from something sometimes, regardless of the method being helpful; or self-destructive.
Regardless though, the night sky does take me back to when I would spend the summer months with my grandmother. She would sit on the front porch watching me as I ran around the front of the house catching June Bugs. I’d always try to gather as many as I could into a jar just so I could release them all at once later. Watching them fly out and lighting up in the dark was always something that took my breath away. My grandmother, would just sit back and enjoy the light show with me while telling me stories of her youth.
Grandma was born and raised here in Meadow Valley. She never really left town, unless she needed something in the next town over. The ranch was her and my grandfather’s pride and joy. They loved the land and the animals they raised; which easily could be proved by the quality of their goods. They put so much hard work into after my grandma’s grandma passed it down to her. I just hope that it will continue to prosper, under my labor.
Walking home, I realized how much the town hasn’t changed over the years. In the city, things are always changing. Buildings getting knocked down to be replaced with more modern and taller ones— or new stores opening up— is unavoidable due to the number of people living there. Here though, it feels like time came to a stop. Almost like that this place is in a world of its own, unaffected by everything else changing. The air still as fresh and crisp, unlike the smog-filled air back home.
I honestly never thought I’d end up here of all places after graduating college. My life was supposed to figure itself out. I was going to be a software developer for some big tech firm, making a lot of money, and retiring early with everything I’d ever need. But instead, I ended up being a partner of a failed startup company. A new and innovative social networking platform; what a load of crock. I guess sometimes you have to figure out you’ve made a wrong turn in order to take the right one.
As soon as I open the gate of my front yard, I’m knocked down by the terrifying beast that herds the animals and my face is being drenched by slobber.
“Calm down girl, relax,” I say to Bonnie while ruffling the fur on the top of her head, “I’m home. I’m home. Are you hungry girl?” A single bark was the only response of Bonnie, my grandmother’s Australian Shepherd. She may be small, but she doesn’t play around when it comes to her job. I’ve never really been a dog type of person, but she has grown on me in the past couple of weeks.
I walk towards the large doghouse that's on the left side of the house. My grandparents had it built for her. It being a doghouse though is a bit off; it’s more like a small barn. Inside is a big container filled with dry food. I reach inside of it and grab the ladle to scoop some into the bowl in front of it. The water dish was still a little full and didn’t look dirty, so I’ll let that go until the morning.
The house that I’ve spent so many summers in, is more like a cozy log cabin you’d think that’d be in the woods. It was made in the eighteen-hundreds according to my grandmother. Over the years though, a second level was added, as well as a basement. The bottom was expanded too, so it is a bit spacious. For as old as it is, it’s kind of hard to believe how good in shape it is.
I start to rub my eyes. Realizing how late it is, I head upstairs and crash onto my bed. It isn’t long before the softness of the mattress causes my mind to drift into the dark.