Starry Night Thoughts

Little Talks (musically inspired) [2nd place WritersStruggle contest]

The old man slowly walks up the creaking stairs of the house, smiling as he does so. His wrinkled hand lightly skims over the surface of the moldy wall, hitting an old nail still embedded in the surface of the drywall. He stops briefly on the stair and smiles more, then closes his eyes and speaks to no one in particular.

"This is where our wedding picture was, remember that? You were in the old white lace dress of your mother's and your hair was pinned up in a beautiful bun that day."

He stops speaking to laugh. "You hated it. That I remember. When we reached the old church, you were so relieved that it was raining that you got out and danced around in the muddy grass. Your mom had a fit, she did!"

He begins to walk again, then stops at the top of the stairs. His eyes search the place lovingly, looking past the patched-up walls and mice holes and the chipped paint. He walks past bucket placed under the hole in the roof into a bedroom, where an old queen sized bed sits in the center of the room with its sheets still pulled up to the top, inviting someone to pull them down and go to sleep. The man looks at the bed and slowly lowers himself onto it, ignoring the creaking in his old joints. The man sighs sadly.

"I remember when we moved here the eighth year of our marriage. When we came to look at it the first time it was old and empty, but you decided that you could cheer it up. You did, but Caleb still didn't like to walk around in it by himself. You would take his little hand and walk with him down the halls and you'd peer into the closets and tell him that there were no monsters. Exactly a week after we moved in, Caleb came running into our room and leaped onto our bed, stating that the stairs were creaking."

The man laughs solemnly. "No one slept that night. We stayed up and played games, although with the methodical creaking of the floor and the soft pitter-patter of rain drumming against the ceiling it almost seemed like the house was telling us to close our eyes."

The man clumsily digs in his worn-out pocket for something, his bony hands barely able to grasp what he wants. With a final tug, a small picture of a blond-haired woman in a wheelchair is yanked from the trap that is his pocket. The man holds it in front of his face, squints, and pushes up his glasses, trying to see it clearly in the dimly lit room. He sighs in happy remembrance and shakily places the picture on the top of a maple-wood desk that could once have been gorgeous, but is since then become victim of termites.

The man huffs."This was taken one year after the car accident that left you in that blasted wheelchair." His eyes drift downward sadly toward his aged hands.

"There were days that you couldn't even dress yourself following the accident. Caleb or I had to help you with your clothes."

A single, small tear falls from the man's eye, running down his face until finally dripping off the end of his arched nose.

"It killed me to see you that way."

"For our fifteen year anniversary, I got us cruise tickets to go to and relax. It was a beautiful cruise. You loved looking at the water. You and Caleb would search for dolphins for hours." The man shakes his head. "You never found any. On the last day, something happened with the ship. There was a malfunction or something--I never found out what. The ship started to sink. Caleb had run off somewhere, and you in your wheelchair raced off to find him."

The man smiles softly and shakes his head. "I told you I would look and you could get onto the lifeboat, but you didn't listen to a word I said. Soon they were loading up the men, and you still hadn't come back."

He slowly lowers himself onto his back, his aching joints screaming in protest. "They took everyone they could on the lifeboats, and you were nowhere to be found. The ship sank the rest of the way while they were still trying to load people up on it, and you were gone. The women on the boat next to us were screaming, along with some of the people on the ship. The screams all sounded the same."

The man closes his eyes wearily. "Now you're gone away. Gone forever. I watched you disappear in the ship and knew that we were going to be torn apart. I still let you go."

He sighs and lays still.

"Herbert?"

The man opens his eyes and sits ups quickly. A yellow-haired woman beams at him happily, her white dress waving around her legs like it were being blown by wind and a bright light is shining from behind her.

"Ellie?"

His voice is no more than a whisper as he stares at his long dead wife in disbelief. A small, young boy steps out from behind his mother and smiles.

"Caleb?"

The man has happy tears falling down his face as he stares at his family, lost long ago to a shipwreck. He rubs his head gently.

"My mind is playing tricks on me."

The woman walks over and sits next to him, taking the old man's hands in hers. "No, my dear. It's not."

The man stays still, looking back and forth between Ellie and Caleb. He finally smiles.

"Remember our little talks, El?"

The woman smiles gently. "Yes. I always will, Herbert."

The man looks at her face, searching her eyes. "I miss them."

"So do I."

The man looks at the boy who just climbed into the bed.

"Remember when we would play outside, Caleb?"

The boy grins, then hops to his feet on the bed, not even rumpling the sheets as he jumps up and down. "Yeah, Dad!"

The man smiles again."That was a long time ago. When we were young and full of life."

He grabs his wife and son's hands. "Thank you for waiting on me."

His wife's eyes shine with unshed tears as she gently touches her husband's cheek. "I always told you that I'd see you again when you fall asleep."

Husband, wife, and son share a quick embrace, then the son gets up excitedly.

"The ship is here, Mama!"

Ellie smiles and takes Herbert's hands, helping him get up. His joints don't ache in protest this time, nor does he move slowly like an old man. Instead, he leaps up like a teenager. The woman walks him to a ship, not unlike the one that sank. The soft light that illuminates the room has gotten brighter, but while it has gotten brighter it is not yet blinding. The man's wife and son step onto the deck of the ship and look down at him.

"Are you coming, Dad?"

The man smiles and looks back at the bed, where he his body still lays, unmoving forever. He grabs the stair rail and hoists himself up, clearing the twelve steps in three giant leaps. He looks at his wife and son and smiles.

"The ship will carry us safe to shore."

With that, he and his family turn around and walk toward the light at the end of the ship. The man stands in the middle, holding hands with his wife and son for eternity, and never planning on letting go.