Telltale Trail

A walking path meandered through a forest beside a small town with a lustrous square garden and gazebo in its center. Every year Oktoberfest was celebrated in the square with traditional food and fanfare. On a cool October evening, the square came alive with gaiety- throngs of party goers weaving through dense crowds, groups huddled, listening to loud bands blaring instruments, picnic tables of people eating tasty, deep-fried food and steaming stews, drinking dark brews and warm ciders, and winners and losers playing High Striker.

This October, Johnny came alone. His wife had passed but as in everything they shared before her death, he felt her presence. It was Tilly that brought him here tonight. The music entertained him but his bones were too brittle to swing the mallet. At one time he was a showboat, hitting the bell on his first attempt, with a cheering crowd surrounding him, but in recent years, he lost his ability. He couldn’t raise the puck not even halfway if he tried.

Johnny had eaten his fill and drank till his belly was full. As the night neared, he was growing tired of the hoopla. Lately, he wore his age like frayed clothing and old, holed boots with peeling soles. This might be the last year he’d celebrate this tradition, he thought to himself. No one looked familiar anymore and he hadn’t the gumption to make acquaintances. His eyes swam, lost and drifting further from yesteryear. This evening, he felt the brevity of his life.

Johnny moved from the bench shuffling toward Midfield Avenue. He maneuvered around the barrier used to block off the street, shaking as he turned. His tremors always became troublesome as he grew weary. A crowd of youngsters rushed in his direction and he was swept up in the group. They were a lively bunch, holding mugs of beer and singing ballads as they walked. As a river’s current takes debris downstream, Johnny was swept away and pushed along. He stumbled and fell on the hard cobblestone. As he struggled to his feet he heard his creaking bones crackle like a roaring fire, his scraped flesh hot like its flames. The scene surrounding him looked as unfamiliar as the people did tonight but he moved along like he knew his way home.

As he lumbered down the road clinging to the lapels of his jacket, the noise tapered to distant, collective chatter and eventually to nothing but the sough of the wind in a canopy of bare branches. He found himself at the edge of the forest and beside him, a carved wooden sign that read Telltale Trail. Although the sign was never there before, he remembered this trail clearly.

As a young boy, Johnny hiked the trail to the river with a fishing pole angled over his shoulder and a sandwich-filled sack in his other hand. He spent many days hooking trout and bringing his catch home to his mother. After he married Tilly, he brought her the fish which she fried or baked in a golden bed of butter. Johnny relished his time on the trail- the fresh air, the wild flowers, the scent of nature, the stars that blinked in the sky when he walked the trail at night and the calmness the forest shared. Nothing could mimic its serenity. Often, he brought Tilly along for a romantic stroll in the woods and she took the same delight in the trail as Johnny. The memories tugged at his heart. A single tear slid over his cheek.

Night had enveloped the evening and the path mirrored a wall of darkness. Walking to the river without a lantern would be arduous. He limped from the injury as it was, but his desires could not be placated unless he could make it a few yards into the forest where a bench waited.

Johnny slowly hobbled along, waving his hands for protection from protruding branches. He stepped languidly, one foot then the other until he abutted the bench. Using his hands as eyes, he found the seat and sat down releasing a breath from deep inside. As his sight adjusted to the darkness, he noticed the night becoming more lucid. He could see the lines in the tree bark, rocks and roots pushing through the dirt of the forest floor, and wild roses lining the path.

He watched a light in the distance bobbing among the trees and floating closer with each passing second. Then a person stepped through the darkness and stood before him. An aurora cast light around them and the night seemed oddly feathery. Johnny saw a woman with blonde hair, styled in a bouffant, and heart-shaped lips resembling Tilly’s. He noticed the soft cornflower dress she wore the day they met at the Officer’s Club dance, the day he fell for her. The way she tilted her head, the dimpled cheeks when she smiled, the curious eyes, and the poised way she held herself resembled Tilly’s manner. Did she come back to him?

“Tilly,” Johnny said in a fainted whisper as he reached out his arms.

This woman wasn’t dressed as Johnny had seen. She was clad in a t-shirt, jacket, jeans, and hiking boots, with her hair pulled back under a cap. She clutched a flashlight as she studied Johnny.

“Have we met before?”

“Tilly. It’s me. Johnny.”

“I’m not Tilly, Sir.”

Johnny opened his mouth to refute her statement but the words wouldn’t come.

“Let me get you some help,” she implored.

The night had once again betrayed him. Confused and angry Johnny started to resist but Tilly’s voice urged him to let this woman help. Johnny followed the woman out of the woods and back to the town where a police officer was able to find his address on his medical identity tag and take him home. Now resting in his bed, he drifted into a slumber, peaceful like no other sleep he had before, and once again, Johnny strolled the Telltale Trail to the river, free of pain and arm in arm with Tilly.