Once upon a time, it was a dark and stormy night. Cliche, right? Well, my story did happen once upon a time, and although it wasn’t dark and stormy, or even nighttime, or really even my story, it’s a fun little addition, no? This is a sad story. A story about love and loss and how difficult it is to move on. So let’s begin…..
I met Jake on a train going nowhere. Literally, it was a scenic train that took us around a lake and right back to where we started. I had just gotten into town and was looking for something to do. I was walking through a park near a lake and saw the station. I like to look for tours of new cities so I can get a feel for everything. I had never been on a train before, so I thought it would be fun. I was dead wrong. Did you know trains have very small hallways and tight turns? And they rock as they travel down the tracks. I was not a fan!
I sat in the open air car at the back, hoping the fresh air would help, when I saw an old man sitting on a bench by himself. I walked over and asked if I could join him. He obliged and we sat quietly together for a few minutes, watching the colorful spring bushes around the lake go by. There were houses behind us, so we watched the boats on the water and the children playing in the sand at the water's edge. It was springtime now and everyone was itching to get outside, but the water was too cold to swim yet.
Then Jake turned to me with a sad expression and asked my name. “Lily”, I told him.
“Lily” he repeated carefully and softly, as though he were turning each letter over in his mind. “Can I tell you a story, Lily?” he asked.
“Yes, sir. I’d like that very much”. After all, old people have the best stories to tell.
And he began to tell me his. “I’m an old man now, but when I was a young man, I fell in love with a beautiful young woman. Her name was Lily, as well.”
I smiled. He said my name with such love and heartbreaking thoughtfulness.
“I met her on a train. Long ago, these tracks didn’t just loop around the lake, but they went on and on to each city. The train had a lounge car and I was sitting alone enjoying my whiskey when Lily walked in. She was wearing a stunning light blue dress that matched her eyes. It stood out against the red velvet booths in the car. She took my breath away. Then she saw someone and her face lit up and smiled a smile so stunning I nearly choked on my drink. But her smile wasn’t for me. She had a beau already.”
“I watched her go to him and greet him with a hug and gentle kiss. I longed for her to kiss me like that. He said something to her that made her laugh and it was like the sound of angels singing.”
“There was music playing in the lounge, so I asked a couple of women to dance with me.” He added slyly, “I didn’t want to be obvious that I was wanting to dance with only her, you know”.
I sat quietly, listening, not wanting to miss any detail, smiling with him as he remembered and I pictured the scene.
“I finally got to Lily and asked for a dance. She smiled and said no.”
“No?!” I asked, shocked. This came as a surprise to me because I thought this would be the moment they came together and lived happily ever after.
He chuckled, “She said no”.
“Why did she say no?” I knew he was going to tell me, but I just couldn’t wait.
“She said no because she was spoken for. Her boyfriend came up beside her and put his hand on the small of her back. He encouraged her to dance with me as he had seen me asking most of the other ladies in the room. She agreed and I whisked her as far away from him as I could in a small train car shared with other people.”
“We danced and I charmed her. She laughed for me. She held my hand and I held hers. She fit perfectly against me. She leaned in and asked my name.
‘Jake’, I told her.
She said, ‘Jake, I’m Lily. Where are you heading?’
I told her ‘nowhere, anywhere, wherever you’re going’.
“When the song was over, she pulled away slightly and asked to dance to another song. I said I’d be right back and I ran over to the band and slipped them some cash and asked them to make the next song the longest they had ever played. They played for the next twenty minutes without stopping” he said, amused with himself.
“Of course her boyfriend tried to cut in, but she shooed him away and said she’d dance with him when the music stopped. So we kept holding each other and dancing around the train car. Nobody else existed in those moments. When the music stopped, she said she’d be right back, and she went over to say something to her boyfriend. He walked her back to me and said he was turning in for the night and to enjoy dancing.”
“Why did he leave her with you? What did she say to him?” I asked earnestly. This didn’t make any sense.
“She told him I was a good dancer and she wanted to keep dancing. Apparently he had two left feet, and although he tried to dance with her, he fell short on talent. We danced a few more songs and I got her a martini. We drank together and she told me she was in nursing school. I was training to take over my father’s butcher business.”
“The night was winding down and the band said they had one song left. She said she wished she had met me a year before, as she was now engaged to the man that left her with me. We danced the last song together, slowly, off beat to the music, but in our own world. At the end, she looked up and I kissed her. She kissed me back and I could feel my heart miss a beat. Then she put her forehead to mine, softly said good-bye, and left the room. I never saw her again. I tried to find her at each station. I rode the train over and over for weeks, hoping to see her again, but she never appeared.”
“After a while I gave up searching and tried to move on with my life. I met my wife, Pearl, a year later on the same train. We were married 43 years and had 2 kids together. I loved her, but not like I loved Lily that day. Pearl passed away last week, so I came to the train that did so much for me once upon a time.” He sighed, heavy and slow. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll see Lily again.”
A tear fell down his cheek, as many fell upon mine. I noticed his breathing was slowing down and his speech was slurring at the end of his story. His eyelids were becoming heavy and I thought he may be ready to take a nap in a corner somewhere.
“That was so beautiful, Jake. I thought you would have ended up with Lily, but I’m so happy you found love again with Pearl.” I wiped away my tears.
“I haven’t spoken of Lily since that day. Thank you, sweetheart, for indulging an old man with his last story. Can you help me to my room and to lie down? I’m feeling rather tired now.”
I helped Jake to a sleeping car and covered him with his jacket. I said good-bye and that I hoped to find a love like Lily of my own one day.
“I wish everyone could find a love like Lily one day. The world would be a much happier place to be, I should think. Good-bye, New Lily.”
With that, Jake fell asleep and I left the sleeping car. The tour was a long one, and an hour later it was over. I got off and found a cute little restaurant to have some lunch and think about that story. Jake and Lily touched me and I don’t think I’ll ever forget them. I hope Pearl was wonderful to Jake. I feel like he deserved that.
I went back to the park where the train station was, later that evening. It was such a pretty park, with swans swimming in the lake now, flowers blooming and smelling so wonderful. I overheard a small group of young women talking about a train tour earlier in the day.
“...to wake him, they couldn’t. They found an empty pill bottle in his jacket pocket. That’s so sad. He was covered with his jacket like he was…”
My legs stopped walking. My heart stopped beating. My lungs stopped breathing. My body felt flushed. What had Jake meant when he’d said “thank you for indulging an old man with his last story”? His last story?? I began to panic. Had he taken the pills before we started talking? Poor Jake! I can’t believe I was the last person he ever saw. Ever.
I tried to calm down, practice manual breathing until I could do it on my own again, and walked to a bench. I looked out over the water and over to the train. I imagined Jake again, dancing with Lily. I bet he was so happy. Maybe he will see her again one day in heaven. I smiled. I hope he does. And I hope he sees Pearl, and that everyone loves each other up there. I looked up and saw a shooting star. Good-bye, Jake. Old people really do have the best stories to tell.
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7 comments
Tit for tat. (Again thanks for reading and commenting on "Remnant Ashes.") It seems like you know the story you want to tell. But have trouble talking about the scenes themselves. Story concepts come to me in terms of clear images... like scenes in a movie. Yours seems to be the emotion of an idea... you know what needs to be said, how to convey the story itself... I wonder how you fair with longer pieces instead of short stories. The dialogue eats up a large portion of this piece, but the conversation seems out of place... like the charact...
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Thank you! My goal is to learn from these short stories so that I can write a book, so I suppose the feedback is good in that regard. I do struggle with conversation a lot. I like your detail additions, if only we could write a story together! I didn't want her to sit there as a non-character, just listening, but her part was to sit there and just listen. Thanks again and I look forward to what comes next!
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Shes the point of view character. She doesn't have to say anything... what is it she's feeling??
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I didn't realize there was a name for her role. I'll look into learning more about that. She was feeling his nostalgia for a time long ago, for the memories on the train, for what once was. It's not her story, but she felt his story. I don't know what she felt on her own.
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Your point of view character is someone you're telling the story though. Sometimes you can tell stories about two interacting at the same time and giving insights to what each of them feels. It could go something like this. "As I walked along the sidewalk, I noticed an elderly man sitting at a park bench. He was alone, he wore one of those old fedoras that reminded me of old detective stories from the 30's, his trench coat tucked against his chin to shield himself from the cold wind that began to nip. I couldn't help but smile, despite the f...
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George R.R. Martin (Game of Thrones), wrote massive works about separate point of view characters. Each chapter is a continuation of "Jon," or "Tyrion." It's brilliant writing. What's fascinating is when these point of view characters make notes within their minds about the other... there are many instances where these characters mingle and interact though they have their own broad stories to tell. His writing taught me a lot about character interaction. It really just depends on the story you want to tell. My piece remnant ashes was always ...
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