Never Too Old

Jack looked out of the window as the snow began to fall, it’s large flakes suddenly covering the garden in a cold, white carpet. 

'Hey Julia, look out of the window. It’s like a scene from a Christmas card out there.’ He was standing in the lounge, still wearing his dressing gown and slippers even though he had been up for hours. He held this morning’s third mug of coffee in his hand.

‘Not sure if the paperboy will deliver this morning though, the snow seems to be settling pretty fast.’ There was no answer from the kitchen. Julia was not a communicator first thing in the morning, he knew, but it didn’t stop him from talking to her. One-sided conversations were common in the Campbell household. More so of late, he thought to himself, as his wife again, failed to answer him. 

He marvelled at the changing view outside. What, an hour ago, had been a horrible muddy mess of overgrown grass, broken pathways and a dilapidated shed were now hidden beneath a white blanket. He’d meant to spend these winter weeks tidying the garden, repairing the paths and taking the old shed to pieces. Julia had been nagging him about it and so, in defiance, he hadn’t done it. Mainly to spite her, but he'd become increasingly lazy with age. She was desperate to plant a small herb garden where the shed was but that would need to be done soon, or she would miss another year of potential growth. 

He heard a clatter from the kitchen, drank the rest of his coffee and headed there. Julia was standing by the sink, her hands wet from completing last night's washing up. Another job he'd promised her faithfully he would do this morning. A broken plate lay on the floor by her feet. She is still beautiful, he thought as he looked at her, surrounded by domesticity. Her hair was grey but always lustrous and she’d managed to maintain her figure where many others hadn’t. She never failed to raise his pulse when he saw her.

She turned and looked at her husband as he entered the room, tears streaming down her face. 

'Why are you crying?' He asked and walked towards her. She stepped away from the sink, carefully avoiding the pieces of broken crockery littering the floor. He moved to block her way but as soon as he read the stony look on her face, he let her pass. He called after her, ‘sweetheart, what have I done?’

‘Nothing Jack, like always, literally nothing,’ she replied as she walked upstairs.

Jack put his empty mug on the drainer and took the hand brush from under the sink, his mind racing over how he could have possibly upset his wife, again. It seemed to be the way, to be walking on eggshells around her lately. Maybe she was suffering from some hormonal issues, he thought? He cleared the broken pieces and put them in the bin. Then he finished the washing up, dried the pots and put them away neatly in the cupboard. All the time he was listening for some clue as to where she was or what she was doing but all was quiet. When he finished he stood transfixed, looking through the kitchen window at the snow continuing to fall, remembering all those winters past. 

Suddenly, he had an idea and stepping out of the kitchen door, made his way across the garden to the broken shed. His feet, still in slippers, became increasingly wet as they sank into the snow, now deep enough to reach the bottom of his pyjama legs. He shivered in the thin dressing gown but strode on. The door to the shed stood half-open, and he struggled to open it fully, pulling it hard against the built-up snow. His hands were frozen now, so he sucked his fingers in a vain attempt to breathe some warmth into them. He stepped into the dark interior of the shed. It was littered with his life’s debris, most of which he had long since forgotten even existed. Guiltily, he realised that he’d told Julia that he’d taken most of it to the tip, months ago. Another lazy moment. He made a mental note to actually dispose of the rubbish when she was next out, and he had the time. 

Some snow had found its way through the holes in the shed roof and the open door, so he had to push it away with his bare hands. In the corner, beneath his bicycle, which he hadn’t ridden for more years than he cared to remember, was what he’d come for. Two plastic sledges, one red and one blue, were half-hidden beneath a rotted cardboard box filled with old papers. He crawled on his hands and knees to grab the sledges. As he pulled them the bike fell on him and the mush of papers slithered like a wet slimy reptile to cover the sledges. Pushing everything aside he managed to grab his goal. He stood, pleased now that he hadn't disposed of them, took them outside and threw them down on the snow. He gave them a cursory glance and realised that, although dirty, they were still in good condition.

Jack made his way, across the garden, back to the kitchen door and once inside, stepped out of his wet clothes then headed upstairs, two at a time. 

‘Julia,’ he called, ‘I’ve a great idea. Let’s go sledging. The weather is perfect, and I’ve got our old sleighs out of the shed.’ When there was no reply he went into their bedroom. His wife lay on the bed, her head turned towards the window, facing away from him. 

‘Julia,’ he spoke quietly but she still didn't answer. He walked around the bed and stood between her and the window. She looked up at him and burst out laughing. At her husband, wearing wet socks, no pyjama bottoms and a soaked dressing gown but with a look of childish excitement on his face. She saw what she had seen for the past thirty years. This man, tall with white, thin spindly legs and a goofy, schoolboy grin on his face. It lifted her mood immediately.

‘Oh Jack, put some clothes on, you look ridiculous.’ She laughed.

‘I’ve been out in the snow, battling the elements,’ he said.

‘You’re seventy-five years old, I’m seventy-two and you expect us to go sledging at the first sign of snow,’ the laughter still in her voice.

‘It’ll be great, you’ll see. I’ll get a quick shower and you get your warm clothes on. I’ll be five minutes.’ With that, he left his bemused wife and stepped into their bathroom. She heard him singing in the shower. Something he always used to do but she’d not heard for some years. She pulled on some clothes and within a few minutes, they were in their car and heading, along snowy lanes, to the park. 

When they arrived he jumped out, pulled the sledges from the car and handed the red one to his wife. Then, he eagerly headed towards the top of the hill, Julia trailing behind. Halfway up the slope, he found he had to stop and get his breath. Youthful exuberance suddenly replaced by a lifetime of laziness and lack of exercise. Julia caught up with him and they stood together looking at the winter scene.

There were lots of families with children laughing and enjoying the snow. Teenagers sliding down the hill on pieces of wood stolen from the nearby bandstand. Here was something neither had experienced for many years; their worries forgotten and everyone enjoying pure, innocent fun. By the time they reached the summit, the sky turned dark and it began to snow heavily again. 

‘Come on then sweetheart, let's do this,’ he called to her as they positioned their sledges on the brow of the slope and they waited until it was clear of other snow revellers. They were alongside each other and with a gentle push, they both began to descend. The sledges soon picking up speed, the smooth plastic base slipping frictionless over the ever-deepening snow. Suddenly they were going so fast, Jack began to feel unsafe. He looked at his wife, still alongside him but there was only joy on her face. She smiled at him and gave a little wave as they careered downwards. Then they were down and others were walking about, laughing and some heading back up the hill to repeat the process. Jack rolled off the sledge as it continued to progress towards the car park. Over and over he rolled in the deep snow. It filled his eyes, ears, nose and mouth. When he stopped and sat up he had to brush it away, frantically looking for Julia. She was standing at the very edge of the car park and pulling her sledge towards where he was seated. 

‘Fantastic,’ she called out. ‘Shall we go again?’ Her eyes were glowing with a light he hadn’t seen for many years. He stood, brushed the snow off his clothes and although he had a few aches he was unhurt. 

‘Yes, okay, let’s do it. That was great.’

She kissed him then hand in hand, they walked slowly up the slope, through the deep snow, but not caring.