Time Where Have You Gone?

   Time Where Have You Gone?

Suzanne Marsh

“Stop the world, I want to get off!” More than once I have wished for a way to pause the passage of time. Growing old is not what it is cracked up to be, in plain simple terms. Late one afternoon as I walking in the park, I came upon a white haired gentleman sitting on a park bench. He was an sort of little man, white hair poking out from under his hat, his glasses tipping on his nose. I somehow felt a connection to him, so I asked if I could sit down, he moved over just a tad then resumed feeding the pigeons. The pigeons were garden variety found in Central Park, New York City. I cleared my throat to signal I wanted to talk, typical New Yorker style. I really did need to talk, I was approaching my seventh birthday, somehow getting older had never entered my mind until now. The man feeding the pigeons seemed older than dirt, maybe he could explain the facts of growing old. Finally he turned to look at me:

“My name is Merlin” the accent was not American, it sounded like an English accent from a grade B movie as he continued: “what is wrong? Most people simply ignore my presences.” I began to fumble for words:

“I am turning seventy, I am not ready for old age, I wish there were a way to turn back time

or pause it to fix some of the mistakes I have made.” The old man smiled:

“I do believe time can be paused for a short time, perhaps a year or two would that

aide you?

I was humbled by this old man, he appeared to have an answer to my dilemma:

“I would give anything to pause time for that long. I can’t undo some of the things I have

done but I could make different decisions than I did.” The old man nodded:

“Ah, yes I see. All right then prepare yourself, I Merlin pause two years time, you will

leave here now walk over to the tree.” The moment I turned he had vanished, how was I ever going to know if he had actually paused time. I am a cynic on a good day, so I thought perhaps he had just been talking figuratively, time can not pause even for a few seconds. I strode away from the tree mumbling about old white haired men, pausing time and my usual assortment of gripes. Upon arriving home, I noticed there was now a glow from a peculiar shaped silver coin. I opened the door and let myself in, I promptly turned on my computer, goggling English coinage in the time of Merlin. There was pictured a silver pence, with a sketch of Merlin. I stared at the picture, that could easily have been that old man I had encountered today. Merlin, what did I know about him? I entered his name, he was a wizard, with a great many talents. He would be roughly at eight hundred years of age, that was seemingly impossible, even to grasp a thought of something so strange happening. However nothing is completely impossible, I picked up the pence and glared at it, it seemed to glow back. I held in the palm of my hand, what capabilities did it have? I wondered if this was how Merlin would allow me to pause time.

I returned to my computer and began a list of items that required a pause in time, I began with a meeting I wished had never happened. The year was 1965, I was sixteen then. I remember the day a classmate introduced me to my former husband. That was my first pause, I met him, was not impressed and walked away. That was fantastic, I only hoped that evenually I would meet the man I married at thirty one, after a horrendous divorce. The feeling of pausing the moment we met, seeing myself again as a foolish sixteen year old, who never listened to reason.

The second pause in time as I held the pence was to settle things with my mother, there were so many questions that were unanswered between us. She passed when I was twenty seven, I really did not know her as a child normally knows her mother. The year 1967 was the best I could do, after that she began to develop Parkinson’s Diease early in 1970. I found myself sitting at the kitchen table, she was pensive as I asked her:

“Why, did you marry dad? If your marriage was so bad why did you stay?” She was taken aback by the question, she sat for several moments:

“I married him because I couldn’t marry Billy Swenson, he was the love of my life, your

grandparents did not approve of him because he was Protestant, so your dad came along.

They weren’t too keen on him either but at least he was Catholic” Digesting that type

of a situation was difficult, but there was more:

“I do not believe in divorce, so we have remained married; why do you ask?”

I was incredulous:

“Mom, you have made things very difficult for dad and me. Did you want me in the

first place?” Mom just sat there stunned, had that just come out of my mouth:

“I have always loved you, but you are like your father.” This made no sense to me:

“Mom, why?” That was all I could say, I had opened up somehting that should have reamined buried with my mother.

The last pause in time was with my oldest daughter, it wasn’t mistake to raise questions but it was losing my temper. I realized that I should have been more tactful, however I was angry and so was she. She is fifty six now, we have not spoken in almost twenty years, it was time. I thought about where we should meet before I held the pence for a last time. I pictured in my mind, the big farm house kitchen she had. We could be having iced tea, Texas is hot enough in the summer, not to have everything cold. I poured a glass of iced for each of us:

“Jenny, we need to talk about this situation, with Mike and the children. I brought them here

so you could raise them not turn them into your servents. You were never treated that way,

they don’t need to be reminded of how things ended between you and Mike. Dick has

already run away, you have no idea where he is. Trish having sex in the living room while

Meg was sleeping, what is that?” Jenny became defensive:

“That is my business not yours! But out or you won’t ever talk to your grandchildren again.”

I should have just kept my mouth closed but I didn’t:

“Jenny, don’t do something like that, you are going to have to live with what you do. This

is not the way to solve the problems we have.” She walked out the door, the question was

could I repair any of the damage short of it never happening. I knew if I tried to stop what had been said it still would not repair the damage done. I took a deep breath:

“Jenny, the children need to know that we love them, think about what you are doing please

before it is to late.”

Unfortunately, it was to late, her son is an alcoholic, her one daughter is gay, the other one lives an obscure life.

The pence suddenly fell from my hand, it was Merlin’s way saying my pauses were complete.