Eggs and Bacon

The gravel under her feet crunched and ground against her shoes as the heavy set woman turned and sat down heavily on the bench. It had felt like an eternity since she had last been able to sit like this, and she gratefully relaxed the muscles in her backside onto the steel slats. The bench was not exactly an architectural marvel, but it served its purpose, perched in the one spot that had a real view. Aurelie closed her eyes for a moment and turned her face up towards the sun, enjoying the warmth of its rays as a few scattered clouds floated lazily in the sky.

Opening her eyes again, she breathed deeply, smelling the earthy warm scent of the drying hay spread across the open meadow beyond the fence. In the distance, the shimmering blue ribbon of the river flickered under the late summer sun. Aurelie felt a sudden memory push into her mind, of being out in the boat with her sister and brother as kids, skinny childish arms straining as they pulled on the enormous oars jangling in the oarlocks. The rowboat was long, and made of old heavy wood covered in flaking paint. Grandpa used to make them row the boat out to deliver a crate of moonshine in clinking ball jars to the old couple who lived in the fishing shack on the point. Aurelie smiled faintly to herself, maybe Grandpa had thought that if it was kids doing the delivering, that there would be less trouble if they got caught with it. It didn’t matter now, that had been more than forty years ago. Grandpa was long gone from old age, her Momma from the cancer, and daddy from the drink. Even Francis, her big brother had died, two years back and was buried with all the rest of them in the burying ground under the Spanish oaks that hung heavy with moss and the smell of decay.

Aurelie sighed, then brightened up. Her sister, Eliette, was coming to visit today. It had been at least a month since they had been able to sit together and catch up on gossip. It would be pleasant to hear about the goings on in Boudreaux; marriages, births and deaths, trouble with the law and the other things that marked the passage of time in a small town. She hoped that her sister brought a jar of her signature sweet tea. That would be just the thing for this beautiful day, heavy with the last heat of summer.

Aurelie closed her eyes again, listening to the sounds that floated on the air. She could hear the rhythmic ‘chack, chack, chacking’ sound of a jogger’s footsteps on the gravel path as they got their morning run in. She snorted to herself, her days of moving anywhere at a pace faster than a walk were long gone. She had never been particularly fit and in the last few years she had become what she most disliked about aging – stiff, overweight and out of shape. There wasn’t a good reason for it, just another failure to launch on her part. Leaning back on her palms Aurelie felt the warmth of the sun on her upturned face. Crickets chirped slowly and lazily, nearing the end of their time as August ended and September peeked in. The sound was more beautiful now, somehow the less frenzied call was more musical and spoke of dry yellowing grass, lazy rivers and catfish lying in deep pools under the shade of dark green willows. The memory of their childhood game of swinging from the rope swing and falling into the creek behind their house bubbled up inside her. She chuckled wryly to herself. That had been a simpler time alright.

Her own kids were grown and gone now. Her son moved across the country, was working in movies as a ‘props manager’ or some such thing. Her daughter lived about two hours away, working two jobs just to be able to raise Aurelie’s granddaughter Alexis. They visited every once in a while, but Aurelie understood that it was hard to get away with all the hours she worked, and money was tight. It was okay, if not quite what she had hoped for in her later life. She missed them. The little girl was a beautiful child, with large dark eyes like a doe in the twilight and as gentle and kind to boot. Tiny dimples in round little cheeks, often with jam or something sticky on them when they came to visit, would frame the sweetest smile a grandmother ever saw.

Opening her eyes, Aurelie sighed heavily again, and leaned forward. Glancing down briefly, a flash of yellow caught her eye. There, at the base of the bench was a small clump of eggs and bacon. That wasn’t the proper name, but she forgot for the moment what it was really called. Tiny yellow flowers that looked like little fairy slippers, streaked with narrow red lines sat on short narrow stems. Groups of tiny leaves in threes at the base of the stems filled out the little clump. Aurelie reached down, and gently picked one flower, pinching the stem off with her fingernail. Lifting it up in front of her face, she twirled the small blossom back and forth like a merry go round. It was such a joyous little thing, bright yellow and just bursting with the enjoyment of living. As kids, she and her sister had picked hundreds of these flowers, filling up old tin cans to the brim, and then pretending they were 'ingredients' for potions and mud pies and decorations for sand cakes that they made beside the creek.

She defocused her eyes, past the flower spinning in front of her, to the glimmer of the bright sun on the river in the distance. The low drone of a pleasure boat was just reaching her now, as the day was so hot she imagined many folks would be seeking places to stay cool and enjoy the water. She cradled the yellow flower in her palm and stood up, stretched her sides and tried to twist the oldness out of her muscles. It was about time to be going, her sister would be there soon to visit. She wondered if Eliette would remember the proper name of the flower.

Aurelie turned, and walked slowly away from the bench, taking careful steps to avoid tripping on the uneven gravel surface. The others were all heading back too, their prison blues blending with sky as the group lined up to be counted before going through the gate. As the guard called out her name, Aurelie looked down at the tiny flower in her hand then back at the bench that was placed by the high chain-link fence. It was her favourite spot out here, the only one with a view. Maybe she could sit there again tomorrow.

And Aurelie went back inside.