1139

"Hey Baby? Can you check the time?" Steve yelled down the steps. He felt like he was running behind and anxiety was starting to build. I was feeling like he had to rush.

A sweet mellow voice announced from the living room downstairs, "It's 11:39. You have 20 minutes."

Steve chuckled to himself. 1139. There it is again. That number keeps popping up. Whenever he would see 1139 it brought back fond memories of his childhood.

As a child, Steve's family grew up in the middle-class neighborhood of Lower Leeds, PA. An area stuffed with identical row homes lined up like crayons in a box. Each house was constructed in the same manner. They all had three bedrooms and a bathroom on the top floor. A living room, dining room, and kitchen on the ground and a concrete basement for storage. They were built in the '60s for the emerging middle-class family, looking to leave the big city. Perfect for the nuclear family of America.

Their address was 1139 Poplar street

Steve lived there with his father, mother, and older brother, Hank. It was a modest home. They had one TV that never quite got a clear picture. Steve would recall using tin foil to try and get NBC to come in for Must-See TV. The family would sit together, the boys on the floor, Mom and Dad on the couch, and watch TV.

Hank SR, Steve's father, drove a used black Buick Estate station wagon. He left early each morning for the deli he worked at in the city. He would bring home sandwiches and potato salad once a week as a treat for the family. Mary was an attentive mother and housewife. She was also the best cook Steve ever knew.

Hank Jr played the trumpet. Day and night. He would blow into the horn with all his muster, and not get any better. "Practice makes perfect." Mary would say. When he was really young, Steve would cry for him to stop. It would usually lead to a scuffle. Maybe even a punch or two. Hank Jr would keep practicing and Steve would continue to cry. 

"I have your wallet if you're looking for it." called up that same sweet voice. Amy, Steve's fiance, was already dressed for the picnic and waiting for him downstairs.

"Ok. Just putting on my shoes." Steve replied. He finished getting dressed and took one last look in the mirror. Deciding that he was ready, he bound down the stairs with a trot in his step. He was really looking forward to today.

"How do I look?" he asked Amy when he got downstairs.

Amy was sitting on the couch in the living room reading a magazine. She peeked over the top of the publication and with a slight tilt to her head and gave a keen look over Steve's choice of attire. "You're really wearing that?" she smirked.

Steve looked down at his favorite bowling shirt. A dark green button-down shirt with thick tan stripes running down both sides. "This is my best shirt!" he remarked.

Amy stood up and grabbed her purse. She was wearing a light blue sundress and white sandals. "You look great. The perfect picnic outfit. You are so stylish." she remarked to Steve with a sly crooked grin on her face.

"Let's go. We'll be late."

Steve hit the volume button on the steering wheel when his favorite song, Wheel In The Sky, came on the radio. He began to sing slightly off-key as loud as he could. It was a beautiful spring Saturday afternoon, so he decided to roll down the window and get some of the fresh highway air.  Amy looked over with a smile and patted him on the arm. Steve glanced her way and caught a glimpse of the GPS.

It was showing that they would arrive at their destination in 11 minutes and 39 seconds.

"There it is again!" he exclaimed, turning down the radio. "1139." he pointed at the GPS.

"So?" asked Amy,

"I grew up at 1139 Poplar St. I am constantly seeing that number pop up." He looked to the road. "It just reminds me of growing up."

Amy lovingly grabbed his hand. "I bet," she said warmly.

"It was such a great house. Hank and I  loved growing up there.” A sense of nostalgia came over Steve and moments of joy began to fill his head. “We had this cutting board that was built into the countertop in the kitchen. Hank and I would sit there for dinner. Something about that spot made us feel like we ruled the world. We’d pretend to be at a restaurant and Mom and Dad would be our waiters." Steve smiled and gave a chuckle. “We never left a tip.”

Then he excitedly pointed to the mile marker of the highway and let out a yell. "There it is again! Mile marker 113.9! That's just crazy!"

Startled, Amy sat straight up in her seat. "Dammit Steve, you scared me! I thought something was going to hit us."

"I'm sorry baby." Steve apologized with a sheepish smile. Amy smiled back, indicating she wasn't so mad. She rubbed his arm. “I know you miss him.”

Steve recoiled from the moment and looked back to the road. Journey was over and a commercial for a local furniture store was playing. It was loud and obnoxious as it announced they were really, REALLY going out of business this time. The car ride became very quiet.

“Steve? Are you ok?” asked Amy

 Steve shook his head. “I’m fine. Looking forward to seeing everyone after this past year. Just excited to get out of the house.”

Amy didn’t press for more, and Steve was grateful for it. He knew eventually she would get him to talk, but she also knew when Steve just wanted to keep it to himself. 

He didn’t like being that way, he just had a hard time expressing himself sometimes. Especially when talking about Hank. It was a hard year for everyone. And losing Hank was devastating. Steve wasn’t sure how he would cope. How he would get through it all. Not being able to see his brother. Saying goodbye over a video call. Trying to console his parents from a distance. It was almost too much.

Amy was his rock. She kept him grounded, steady. Without her, Steve would have let the depression and melancholy get the worst of him. He looked over at his significant other. She was staring straight ahead, her big black eyes taking in the whole world. She was silent, not pushing Steve to reveal anything he wasn’t up to. This made Steve love her even more. 

“You’re the best. You know that?” he said. 

Amy looked at him with gleam in her eyes. “I know.” she said, reaching down to turn up the volume when KISS by Prince came on the radio.

Steve put on his signaled to indicate he was moving over as their exit approached. He got behind a small gray sedan and noticed its license plate, GHD-1139. “Look!” he pointed.

Amy read the license plate and let out a little snort. “That is wild,” she said. “You know what this means?”

“What?” he asked

“You need to play that number tonight.” she playfully suggested

"Ok." Steve agreed with a nod of his head, “On the way home we will go see Dad at the deli and I’ll get a lotto ticket.”

“And when you hit for big money, you’re taking me out to dinner.” insisted Amy. 

“I am?” asked Steve.

“Yes. You are. A fancy one too!”