Mabel and Hayden

Hayden stood looking outside through the large glass doors as they were driving away. It was if his two children could not get away from there fast enough. When he could no longer see the taillights of their car, he turned around and walked down the hall and into the large room where dozens of people, like himself, were gathered. Even though he was not alone, he felt very alone. He walked around the room, stopping occasionally and watching two men shooting a game of eight ball at a pool table, a man who was unmindful of the others playing an upright piano, a group of chatting women at a round table playing a card game of hearts, three men happily throwing darts at a target hanging on the wall. Everybody appeared to be busy doing something except for him.

The Williamson County Senior Center was not the place where he wanted to be. He felt his children had left him there for the afternoon just to get away from him, and they would probably do the same thing tomorrow and the next day and every day. He lived in his daughter’s house and had not realized he had been getting in her way. About all that he did was eat, watch television, and sleep. He wanted to ask them, why are you being so mean? But he knew they were not being mean to him, of course. They had their own lives, their own careers, their own children, their own hobbies, their own friends to think about. And maybe it was true what they said, that he needed to get out of the house and be around other people.

So there he was, standing in the middle of the senior center, and watching everybody else. He almost did not notice that next to him was a woman sitting in a chair, apparently doing nothing else but looking at her phone. She must be very smart, he thought. He had a cell phone once and he could hardly figure it out, and it had been a flip-top phone, not a new one like she had in her hands.

She was probably about the same age that he was. She was kind of attractive too, he thought. He did not mind that her hair was mostly gray or that she wore big silver eyeglasses. There were wrinkles around her eyes and mouth, but would not any woman in her late seventies have them? She was dressed nicely too, in the way that he remembered when women years ago always dressed nicely.

“Do you mind if I sit in the chair next to you?” he asked her.

“No, sit right down. I’m just playing today’s game of Wordle,” she replied.

“Oh,” was all that he was able to say. He really did not know anything about Wordle, even though it was something he had heard his son or daughter mention. It was a surprise to him that anyone at their age would know how to play it, or even know how to use one of the new phones.

“I’ve started playing every day,” she said. “Maybe you can help me. What is a five-letter word that has e, i, t, and d in it?”

He thought about it for a long moment while she sat and looked at him.

“What about debit?” he finally asked her.

She tapped her phone a few times, then smiled, and said, “That’s it!” Hayden smiled back. He felt rather proud. “I solved it in four tries. Thanks to you, of course.” She was still looking at him, and he felt uncomfortable. “You must be a very smart man,” she finally said.

“No,” he told her, with a flash of embarrassment on his face. “It was luck.”

It seemed time for him to introduce himself, but at the same time he said, “Hi, I’m Hayden,” she said “Hi, I’m Mabel.” They both laughed.

“Do you live near here?” she asked him.

“Not far. I live with my daughter and her family in Franklin.”

“Oh. I used to live in Franklin.”

Suddenly there was an obvious silence in their conversation, but she broke it by asking, “Have you been here before? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here.”

“It’s my first time,” he said. “I just thought I’d drop in and see what’s happening.”

Why should he tell her that his children had dropped him off and had quickly driven away? He wondered, what would she think about that? Would she think that he was an old man that not even his own family wanted around?

He was not a bad looking gentleman, she said to herself. She considered that he was probably about the same age as herself. Not a hair on his head, she thought and grinned. But what should someone expect? She looked him over. She liked his blue eyes. And he was closely shaven and his clothes were neat. His shoes were shined, his shirttail was not out, and he did not have holes in his pants. He was dressed nicely, the way she always thought men should. Of course, they rarely did that anymore.

Why is she staring at him? he asked himself. Was there something wrong? Did he look all right? Was she staring because his head was bald? Did she think he was dressed funny?

He thought he would like to stay there and find out everything about her. After all, his children were not coming back to pick him up until four that afternoon. He did not realize that he was looking intently at her too. At that time he was admiring her legs hidden in brown hosiery and the house slippers on her feet.

He would not stop looking at her, she thought. Was he gawking at her legs? She crossed them and made sure her dress was covering her knees. She made a sound clearing her throat and got his attention. His eyes were looking into hers.

He felt a flash of jealousy when another man came to her and began discussing that day’s game of Wordle. She bragged that she had solved it in four tries, and she glanced at Hayden and winked, and the man admitted that it had taken him six. Hayden wondered if everyone there played Wordle except him, and that they all had new phones, and all of a sudden he promised himself that he would buy another phone and learn how to play the game too. He would have it when his children brought him to the senior center again, and he felt sure they would. They would probably like to bring him here every day.

They had known each other for about ten minutes, and they were still learning about each other. Perhaps he had found a friend. However, it seemed to him that Mabel appeared to have been sick. He was unaware that she was thinking the same thing about him. It was true that he had not been feeling well lately. And he was tired most of the time.

They ate lunch together at the senior center, and after lunch they went out front and sat on one of the benches. It was a very warm day in September, but neither of them seemed to mind the weather. They were happy to be together. Hayden was fascinated with Mabel, the only woman who had interested him since his wife passed away 12 years ago. He did not like it, though, that her phone rang a couple of times and she spent minutes in conversations with the callers, probably her children or grandchildren. But it was an opportunity for him to sit next to her and admire her without her noticing.

He liked the way she talked and laughed. He liked the sparkle in her eyes when she smiled. He liked it when she told her callers that she was busy and needed to hang up. He liked it when she turned to him and gazed into his eyes. He liked it when she touched his arm as she talked to him.

“I was an elementary school teacher for 42 years,” she told him. “I had third graders. I taught them reading and arithmetic and social studies and science. Back then, students had to learn to write in cursive too and I taught them how. They don’t have to do that nowadays. They can hardly print their own names so someone else can read it. What did you used to do, Hayden?”

“I was a printer. We printed the daily newspaper. I think the noisy presses hurt my ears. I can’t hear as well now. Or maybe it’s because of my old age. I’m not sure. But I worked as a printer for almost 40 years. Everyday my hands and clothes would be covered with black ink. It was a good job, though. Sometimes I miss it.”

“I know. I miss teaching the little ones too. But schools aren’t the same as they were when I was there. The students are unruly today. They won’t mind. Their teachers aren’t allowed to discipline them. It’s gotten awful. I couldn’t do it!”

As much as he liked her, there seemed to be something strange about her also. Was she looking younger now than when he had met her? Where was the gray in her hair? And the wrinkles around her eyes and mouth, where had they gone to? He was sure she had been wearing eyeglasses. Where were they? He blinked, as if that would make a difference. Certainly she appeared to be a younger woman now.

“Well, there aren’t a lot of printing jobs nowadays either,” he said. “Everything’s becoming electronic. People don’t read newspapers the way they used to. Back then, everybody had a subscription. Everybody was interested in the newspaper and talked about what was in it, you know, the headlines, sports, comics. People couldn’t live without their newspaper.”

He had no answers why she appeared to be younger. He was not certain what was happening. Was it because of the unseasonably warm weather? he wondered. Was it because of the bright sunlight? And then she appeared to be fading away. He rubbed his eyes and looked again. It was as if she were slowly disappearing.

Suddenly it seemed Mabel was not there anymore. He was sitting alone. He closed his eyes, then looked again. And she was there once more. Was he imagining all of it? He wondered if he was becoming senile. Was he losing his mind? His children sometimes talked about dementia when they talked about him. Was this one of the symptoms? Was this what it was going to be like? It worried him.

No, he thought. It was indigestion. Maybe it was something he ate for lunch. He felt fine, though. He was tired, but he was always feeling tired. Perhaps they needed to go back inside the senior center. He probably needed his children to come back and pick him up and take him home. It was not four yet. And he was sure they would not be there early.

“I have a little secret, Hayden,” she said. “I’m not what you think I am. But I have to go to the restroom, and I might tell you about it when I get back.”

He held the large glass door open for her as she went inside. Hayden went back to their bench and sat down. Whatever it was that he was feeling earlier, he was not feeling now. There was certainly nothing wrong with his eyes. He watched the cars passing by on busy Everbright Avenue in Franklin. Everything seemed normal. Nothing was wrong with his mind either, he thought.

Hayden waited for what must have been 30 minutes and Mabel had not returned. He knew she had not left because he would have seen her go unless she went through a back door. Surely she was not in the restroom now. He continued to wait for another 20 minutes. She still did not come back.

He got up and opened the glass door and went inside the senior center. Nothing had really changed there. Men were still shooting a game of eight ball at a pool table, a man was playing an upright piano, women at a round table were playing a card game of hearts, a small group of men were throwing darts at a target. He walked over to the chair where Mabel had been sitting when he met her. Someone else, a woman older than Mabel, was sitting there and reading a book. She looked up at him and smiled. He did not smile back. He was worried, about Mabel and about himself. Something was not right.

“Excuse me,” he said to a young man who worked in the senior center. “Do you know a woman named Mabel?”

The man looked at him without saying a word.

“She’s about my age. She has gray hair. Wrinkles. Eyeglasses. I think she does.”

The man continued to look at him, this time questioningly.

“She was sitting in that chair,” he said and pointed at it. “We ate lunch together. We sat out front on a bench. Now I don’t know where she is.”

Still the man did not speak. He started to turn away, as if he had other things to do.

“She’s a retired school teacher,” Hayden continued. “She taught third graders. Surely you know her or you’ve seen her. She likes to play Wordle on her phone.”

“Are you talking about Mabel Martin?”

“I don’t know her last name,” he said.

“I knew Mabel Martin. Your description sounds like her.”

“Then where is she?”

“Mabel passed away months ago. She had stage IV breast cancer.”

Hayden really did not know what to say.

“She died?”

“Yes,” the man said.

“Breast cancer.”

“Yes.”

Hayden turned to walk away. He would wait by the glass doors for his children to arrive so he could go.

“But not many people knew about her cancer,” the man said. “She didn’t talk about it much. Most people thought her death was unexpected. They didn’t know how sick she was. It was kind of her little secret.”