There stood Craig on the busy corner waiting for the light to turn to walk so that he could get across to his building of employment. He was late as it was and these lights were all against him today. He would get lectured from his boss once more and he had told he would get fired if he was late again. What was his exercise going to be this time? He wanted to scream at the lights to hurry up, so they wouldn’t make him any later. What was he going to tell the boss?
On this street corner was the first time in a long time that he smelled that wonderful scent from his twenties. It was a cross between lavender and roses, it was a heavenly scent. The scent came as fast as it went, but he knew that he would remember that scent for the rest of his life. It had a calming effect on him and he thought that special scent was going to be with him the rest of his life until the fateful night. That night that no one could have predicted. Over and over in his head, that night played like a bad curse that would be with him. He always blamed himself which no one could understand and they just chalked it up to grief. Grief that had to consume his whole body until he had to get away, far away to get back his life, his existence, his mental state on life. Saying good-bye to all his friends and family, he packed up and left for the big town of Nerdsville.
Nerdsville wasn’t the name of the town, it was just how the people in that town acted. Walked around with the noses in the air and spoke like they thought they knew everything, he could have understood a few people like that. It was the whole town like it was a sickness, an illness that had invaded their whole body. It was like the sickness had grabbed hold of their body and was fighting for control. Nylonville was the actual name of the town, but Nerdsville sounded so much better than a name after a pair of stockings.
He was super late and he knew without a doubt that his boss was going to fire him. He could see his desk right now as the dear old Mr. Towns was packing up his stuff in boxes and placing them on top of his desk. His other co-workers would go through his boxes after Mr. Towns went back into his office to see if they wanted any of his possession. He had seen it a couple of times when other workers had got fired for different reasons. Mr. Towns had packed his stuff and his other co-workers had gone through the boxes by now. Oh well, they could have everything, he didn’t want anything to remind him of the awful time he spent at this place. Nothing he had done had made Mr. Towns happy with the way he worked.
The lights were changing finally and he stopped one brief second to see that scent was there. Nothing, it was gone for the moment, but had seen to bring some memories back that he had long since buried in the recess of his brain. Memories that he wasn’t too happy to dig up which was what those memories wanted, but he knew those memories were part of who he was. Memories that were begging to come to the surface, to the world of light instead of the world of darkness.
For several weeks, he would always stop at the light to see if that scent was around. Nothing would arousal his nose to say pay attention to the women around you. He had himself convinced that he might have just imagined the scent that reminded him of a special lady of his past. Lavender and roses were her favorite perfume, she would get either of them in a spray form just to be able to spray it wherever she wanted to. Her car, her house, her clothes, and she always carried a small bottle in her purse to spray around wherever she went. It was like an addiction that she could only handle by being able to smell her favorite scent.
The sun was shining enough to be able to go outside with a sweatshirt in November. He felt the heat on his face as the scent hit him in the face like a slap. This time the roses overpowered the lavender enough that he had thought the maker had forgotten the lavender until the end and then didn’t put enough in to mix it well. The scent seemed to dance around him and make him light-headed. He had to find the woman wearing his special lady’s perfume and find out how she knew to make it. Did his special lady show her how to make it? Was his special lady alive and hiding from him?
Caryl Dunnson was his favorite girl from the past. She had been on her way to pick him up when she got hit by a car. The driver was an eighty-seven year old woman that said she hadn’t even seen her walking on the side of the road. Caryl’s family decided not to press charges against the woman because of her age. They had only made two suggestions that the woman would have to live by the rest of her life. One was that she gave up driving so that this miserable situation didn’t happen to someone else. Two was that she worked at a hospital or animal shelter as a volunteer so that she could experience someone depending on her, needing her love and attention. The police and DA didn’t agree with the family, but in the end in front of the judge decide to go along with the family instead of putting the woman in prison for the rest of her life which wasn’t too long. The woman passed away two months later of a heart attack.
The woman said that was fine because she knew that she shouldn’t have been behind that wheel that day. She should have given up driving a long time ago, but she wanted to be independent in life. Independent didn’t mean killing someone with your car, independent meant to be able to live on your own. Independent meant to be able to love the person that he wanted to love.
As he stood there daydreaming, the scent seemed to circle him and tap him on the shoulder to get his attention. He knew that the person wearing the homemade perfume was very close to him, his nose was twitching as a smile graced his lips, he could hardly wait to turn around to see who was standing there with his favorite perfume on which seemed to be knocking him on the back to get his attention. He slowly turned around and was totally blown away on what his eyes beheld standing in front of him. It was a lady that………
It was a lady that indeed was standing there with a smile on her face and she looked just like Caryl. She seemed to be younger looking in the face and the clear blue eyes that he remembered. A straight nose and pale pink lips finished off the perfect face of a beautiful lady that looked just like his lost love. “Caryl? Is that you? It can’t be because you were killed on the fateful day! “ Pausing to let his eyes scan every inch of her face, he knew that it wasn’t his lost love. It was just someone that was younger and looked exactly like her.
“No, that is my mother’s sister, my aunt. How did you know Auntie Caryl? I am named after her because it is my mother’s way of remembering her sister. Auntie Caryl was very nice, I hear.” She wondered who the man was that was standing there trying to devour every inch of her into his memory banks. “May I ask how you knew Auntie Caryl? What is your name?”
He stood there for a few minutes committing the rest of her face into his memory. “My name is Craig Standoff. I was, so very deeply in love with her and cherished her enough to spoil her for life. I miss her so much. You are wearing her homemade perfume. How did you get the recipe?”
“My mother and I make the homemade perfume when we need it. I know it sounds funny, but it is my favorite one to wear. Auntie Caryl gave my mother the recipe and we do it now to help with our grief process. I didn’t even know Auntie Caryl, but I do know I love and miss her deeply just by the stories my mother tells me.” They stood there looking at each other wondering where they should go from here. Craig settled that answer by saying, “Sorry, to say this but I have to go to work. Here is my phone number so we can keep in contact. I will call you later, I would like to see you again.”