Midas Touch

"Don't suppose you're from around here.  You come for the bluegrass jamboree?"

The gas station attendant gave his scruffy chin a thoughtful scratch and looked over the man on the other side of the counter with the curiosity of someone not used to seeing new people.  Being average height and build, the man's appearance was not distinctive in any particular way but it was plain by his clothing and manner that he was not a local.

Shaking his head in answer to the question, Matt smiled slightly.  

"I'm not much for country music. Just here to visit a friend."

Sliding a few bills across the counter for his gas and the sports drink in his hand, he turned to the door and walked back to his aging truck parked next to one of two gas pumps at the station.  

It had been overcast all morning and as he returned to the interstate, the skies darkened and a light rain began to fall against the truck's windshield.  The water splattered on smooth glass and slid off, taking the gathered dust from the drive along with it.  

Checking to make sure the GPS on his phone mounted to the dashboard was still updating, Matt turned on the radio and scanned for whatever stations were available.  As he suspected being this far away from the big city, it was slim pickings and he was forced to choose between a lively sermon by the Reverend Samuel Davis or a station playing an old country tune from 20-odd years previous.

Leaving it on the station playing a song about broken hearts and whiskey and trains, Matt felt a sense of melancholy overtake him. He had been intending to take this trip for a long time.  It had been 15 years since he'd come this way to see Midas, and it had not been under the best of circumstances.

Midas wasn't his given name, of course. It was Kevin.  But he quickly earned that nickname due to his uncanny ability to turn any situation in his favor, like King Midas who could transform what he touched to gold with his touch.  There was this one time, in boot camp...

His stomach interrupted his thoughts and growled as he drove past a billboard with an inviting slice of peach pie and a suggestion to take the next exit to stop in at the Blue Moon Diner.

Taking the sensible advice of the billboard, Matt pulled off the highway at the next exit and found his way to the Blue Moon.  It looked like the diner had been in business for a long time, judging from the condition of the sign which had faded from years of exposure to the sun, which he took as a promising sign.

Finding a seat at the counter, Matt looked the menu over briefly and ordered a chicken sandwich and an iced tea, which was served promptly from the kitchen by a friendly young server with an easy smile and a plastic nametag that read, "Rose."  He ate slowly as rain streaked down the windows of the diner and turned the view of the world outside into little globs of brown and green and red light captured in each drop.

Business was slow, so after seeing to a few other customers, the waitress came back to chat a bit while she rolled silverware bundles into napkins for what she hoped would be a busy dinner rush. 

"You look like a man on a mission, if you don't mind my saying.  You on your way somewhere important?  You seem distracted."

Matt set down his sandwich and nodded absently, more to himself than to Rose.

"I suppose I am. I'm in town to visit a friend I haven't seen in a long time.  Really not sure what I'll say when I get there, to be honest."

Rose nodded empathetically as she set one bundle of silverware on the stack she was building.

"I'm sure you'll find the words when the moment comes.  The important part is, you're here, right?  That's all that really matters."

Matt considered for a few long moments and then nodded and finished his meal before leaving some cash on the counter for Rose, paying the bill and heading back to his vehicle.  He continued down the main road a few miles through downtown and then past into the outskirts.

Finally coming to the address indicated by his GPS unit, Matt parked the truck and turned off the engine. He sat in the driver seat and found himself suddenly uncertain as he looked out the window at the place he had finally arrived arrived.

It's been so long. Too long. What am I even doing here?  I shouldn't have come.

Outside the rain had abated.  A few sprinkles and the smell of ozone still hung in the air, but here and there shafts of light shone through the clouds and lit the ground, turning all within their radiant beams to warm gold, drifting across fields and trees and homes.  Matt watched silently, letting memories wash over him. 

Gathering his courage, he reached to the passenger seat next to him for the bouquet of marigolds and climbed out of his truck before he could finish talking himself out of the whole thing.  He walked down the sidewalk and through an archway with the words "Morning View" painted across the top in perfect gold letters.

Looking out in front of him across the damp lawn, he had a brief moment of panic that he would not be able to find where to go.  So, he just began walking down the closest path.  Memory guided him, and before long he came upon his destination.  

The marker was different from how he remembered.  The years and the weather had dulled the polished granite.  No longer did fresh turned earth lay in front of the stone, but a lush bed of verdant grass lay across the plot as if it had always been there.

Matt stood for a moment and then cleared his throat.

"Hey Kev. How's it going?"

The branches of a nearby redbud tree in bloom stirred briefly and a few pink blossoms drifted to the ground.

"That well, huh? Gotta say, you got yourself a great view up here.  All this fresh air must be doing you good.  They treating you well?"

A few far-off birds called, and then were silent.

Matt shifted his weight awkwardly and glanced down at the flowers in his hand.

"I hope you don't think it's weird or anything but I brought these. Figured it couldn't hurt to jazz the place up a bit."

Reaching down, he lay the marigolds across the base of the stone marker.  

He looked at the stone for long moments and then frowned and stared at the ground.

"I'm sorry, man. Sorry I haven't been by. I, uh... I couldn't face you like this again after the day we buried you. You were always the brave one. Hope you can forgive me."

There was no answer.  Only the quiet of the late spring afternoon and the smell of redbud blossoms in the air.

He sat on the ground and put his back against the stone, closed his eyes, and lived in the memories of happier days, and smiled.

"You know, I was just thinking on my way over here about that time in boot camp you got me assigned to kitchen patrol for falling asleep on watch and I ended up meeting Grace that very afternoon.  Still owe you one for that."

The late afternoon sun dipped low and lit the sky in one last burst of light before slowly fading as the horizon rose to meet it.