them,” was his response.
His dad lit up, beaming with pride.
All Kenneth could say was, “My teammates will be so jealous.”
His dad assured him that teams, games, and shoes will soon feel like a distant memory. It was time to move on.
“Don’t worry, death doesn’t discriminate. No shoe lasts forever.”
Under the sunrise, the apples glowed rosier than they did in the daylight. Kenneth picked two beauties for his bag lunch. He tied the laces of his new basketball shoes together and swung them over his shoulders thinking these shoes are wings for my feet. He returned to the basketball gym and his teammates.
He broke the stillness of the gym as he pounded the ball into the hardwood floor knowing it would go nowhere except back to his hand. When it did, he heard the impact of the basketball meeting his fingertips, and felt the smooth, bumpy surface of the basketball sending a shock from his fingertips to his hand. Each bounce of the ball made a sound distinctively in the silent stillness.
It was a tough day, not from the knee or leg pain, but seeing every detail of the gym floor. Scuff marks brought memories of Miki’s black, red, and white shoes. The display of dents and engravings showing off battle scars. The paint on the floor no longer had shine or luster just as the game faded from the loss of Miki.
Eating his juicy apple at lunch, he remembered his dad’s words, “It is time to move on. Death does not discriminate. Nothing ever stays the same.”
A New Start
Nor did the old home place stay the same. Ed and Edith felt at their age they should prepare for their future. The family farmhouse had rescued itself many times. Now it needed lots of loving care. The old place had history; the spirits echoed within the walls. Those memories of births, hugs, and laughter would go with them to their new place that had accessibility and ease of maintenance. Edith and Edward Turner built a new home.
Its most recognizable characteristic was the asymmetrical design. The “L” shape had a long horizontal facade that faced away from the factory. It hugged the ground and followed the contour of the land. It had a casual style, an open floor plan, light and airy, evoking a relaxing atmosphere. The wrap-around porch captured the view. Edith planted a small rose garden in the front. Two caring souls thinking of each other created the house with love.
As the seasons changed, as the Earth circled the sun, Ed, Edith, and Kenneth moved into their fresh new place. Kenneth graduated from high school. Ed and Kenneth accepted employment with the manufacturer of high quality, affordable, steel spring upholstered furniture.
Kenneth had immediate employment after graduation since his dream of becoming a basketball star died. His knees and legs could not support the strain, but he could bicycle over the hill to work every day.
He took pride in his work and his accomplishments. But most of all, he arrived early so he could have a warm good morning with the receptionist, Thelma.
Thelma had a shy look. On her porcelain skin was a light application of blush and her lips were just the right touch of pink. She dressed in a casually tailored suit and her hair was salon perfect. She had the air of being punctual. She poised her face with a smile and her manicured hand extended out to welcome you. This position suited her well.
Now involved in the furniture business Kenneth noticed his surroundings. The carefully designed reception area inspired confidence, watercolors graced the walls, current magazines rested on the square glass topped coffee table and the comfortable chairs were in complimentary brown, fawn, and baby blues with the neutral tan colored walls.
Kenneth could not help from thinking of the old farmhouse, now standing all alone, empty. He felt like no time had passed since he moved from that house, yet it seemed an eternity. He vowed that in his spare time he would fix it up, give it some attention, some tender loving care. Everything and everybody needed some so did his old home place.
Thelma’s good morning smile was one of happiness. It drew Kenneth in. This draw grew much as a spring flower opening. It seemed so real, genuinely sweet and with just the right touch of shyness. Her warmth rushed through him as a ray of sunshine.
Each morning Thelma anxiously waited for the door to open to gaze at the most wonderful eyes, mostly blue, but darken to grey. His smiling eyes shined with sincerity, pure emotion. In Thelma’s eyes his good morning arrival transformed him from a stranger to an employee to someone she wished to know.
Kenneth wakened early these days to walk the orchard. He stopped for a moment to admire the jewel of the garden, towering above with green leaves glimmering from the pristine dew. It was one special apple tree. This morning was not grey, but a soothing lavender and brilliant amber. As the colors merged into neon and peach, he picked the perfect luscious, red apple dangling in the branches from the jewel of the garden. It was for Thelma. All alone he giggled and voiced, “An apple a day keeps the doctor away.”
On his arrival for work, he could be heard saying, “Good morning Thelma” as he handed her the luscious, red apple ready for savoring. She smiled. For a split second everything stopped. Their eyes and smiles met as one piercing through the bad in his life. He felt well again.
He also felt that Thelma always had a smile just waiting to be tempted out. He liked her. When she glanced up, he thought I do not have to smile, it just comes naturally. When she blushes ever so slightly, I imagine her being my girl.
The day came; Kenneth took a chance and invited Thelma to the movies.
“Good morning Thelma, would you go to the movies with me tonight?”
Kenneth saw something flicker in her eye he never wanted to die.
After work on that Friday night Kenneth and Thelma stopped for a burger and fries and headed for the movies. Movies on Friday nights became a regular date.
On Saturdays in the wonderland as Kenny and Miki used to call it, traffic came to a crawl, streets jammed with cars and the town parking lot full. Kenneth and Thelma shared the coveted walk he and Miki trod. They stopped for a special coffee and a light tender cinnamon scone to watch the hustle, the bustle of afternoon shoppers.
Every Sunday morning Kenneth accompanied Thelma for coffee and donuts before an early church service.
They never missed opening the day with a good morning. Not only did it include a smile, eyes locking but also a kiss and a hug. Each had a spring in their step and gladness in their heart to start the new day.
These events proved they enjoyed each other and were comfortable doing easy and uncomplicated things in life. Their simple times continued taking lunch breaks with a bag lunch and a walk through the woods behind the factory.
One lunch break as they were meandering through the woods, Thelma asked, “Have you had animals on your farm?”
Getting solemn Kenneth responded, 'Yes, when Miki and I were little my father had a farm full of animals. We would cry.'
My dad would say, “Why are you crying?”
I was speechless. All Miki could say was, “I think the animals are suffering. They have thoughts and feelings just like me.”
Miki convinced me that dad was using the animals more like digits in a bank balance. No one said another word. One day we came home from grade school and the animals were all gone. Thelma remained quiet while her insides were crying.
For weeks after work Kenneth painted the old house. When he and his parents moved, the furniture lay still, so it needed a good cleaning or re-upholstering. A re-upholstered activity sounded like something he could do if he found the right fabric and Thelma could help with that. They would select something from the hundreds of choices in the warehouse. That would be a great team project.
Kenneth hired a handyman to repair the windows and doors. The day he washed the windows the place opened. Sunshine entered and the new colors glowed. He felt the memory of his losses fading. He thought the pain is blowing right out of this old house