7/22/74

Alan pushed the rickety cart of returned books down the narrow aisle, his eyes scanning and searching the endless spines and stickers of text to find the right spot for his next return. His eye sight hadn't been what it used to be and the arthritis in his hand caught up to him faster than he would have expected, 'that was for old people' he thought as a teenager. The repetitive organization of finding the specific spot for a specific book so the next soul could find it and experience a journey of their own lying beneath a hard or soft cover was one of many extremely rewarding tasks Alan looked forward to everyday. Steering someone in the right direction of a quality piece of literature or film offered a compensation that no monetary sum could rival. Many have come, many have gone, many have stayed, many have left, Alan was still here, one book at a time. He had been searching for this one spot for this book he couldn't quite find the location of. It had to be here. It didn't make sense. His eyes went across the rows of books trying to find where exactly it was supposed to go. Just then, his entranced observation had been abruptly interrupted.

"Hey, man." A voice said from the end of the aisle. Out of the vortex and back into reality, Alan steered his vision away from the spines and upon a twenty something, hippie looking boy with a brown satchel around his shoulder. Wavy hair past the shoulders, denim blue jacket, pants that went past the tongue of his shoes, looked like he walked right from Woodstock. "Do you know where I can find Alan Myers?" This random boy knowing his name took Alan back a bit. His eyebrows angled, his mind raced with questions but his mouth was faster.

"That's..me" he replied, putting the book back down on the cart. "I'm sorry, do I know you?" The young man gave a warm smile, a smile of familiarity as he walked closer to Alan.

"Didn't know if you'd even still be here. Had a good hunch passing through. Turns out I was right." He had a warm voice, not like a stereotypical stoner. There was a comfort behind the tone of the way he said those words. Alan's befuddlement only increased the more the boy continued talking. "I knew we'd eventually cross paths again."

"Again?"

The boy was now only mere feet from Alan. The smile, which hadn't been large enough to seem unhinged but noticeable enough for it to provoke a warmth never dissipated. Alan was still unphased,

"I'm sorry, young man. I-I don't-." The smile persisted.

"Max.. Francis' kid." There was a pause between names. Suddenly, it was all clear. Alan was thrust back to a time of him when Francis was sitting on his living room floor watching infant Max play with the over sized colored rings from his toy set. He remembered how he started to chew on one and how it made both of them laugh, Francis putting the ring back down. Another flash, baby Max sitting on Francis' lap as they went down the slide at the park. Another flash, jumping around in his rocker, the jangling sounds of the plastic animals attached bouncing in rhythm. Alan had been transformed to those memories subconsciously in just a few seconds. He didn't know how to react to Max being here, he didn't know what to say after all this time.

"Oh my god, Maxy" he said as he gave the young man a warm hug. Max put his arms around Alan as well and let out a hearty laugh.

"It's great to see you too, man." Alan unhooked himself and put his hands on Max's shoulders. Now it was he who couldn't get the smile off of his face, this one more grinning and pressing into his cheeks. "How are you?" A generic question after all that time but the first one that came to Alan's mind.

"I've been very good, man. Thank you. I'm just passing through town today. I didn't know how to contact you so dropping by was my only resort." Alan realized the two had been talking softly.

"Let's go talk someplace not as quiet."

The office door unlocked and Max followed right behind Alan. The door shut just as the two entered. The interiors of the office were practically no different than the library itself. Shelves of books lining the walls, papers scattered in an organized disarray, an outdated desktop computer on Alan's desk much like the outdated computers for public use.

"Please, take a seat" said Alan, pointing to one of the two wide sunken in faux-vinyl recliners. Max sat while Alan eagerly went to the other side of the desk.

"Could I get you something to drink? Water? Coffee? I think I have a soda in one of the fridges out there." "Nah, that's okay. Thank you."

Alan excitedly plopped himself down in his office chair. He usually maintained his steady and cool demeanor, it was the simple pleasures that made his day but this time was something different and he could hardly contain himself. "I have so much to ask about Francis. My God, I have so much to ask about you. How's he doing? Are you two still in Georgia? Oh, that reminds me, I mailed a package a long time ago and never heard back. Did you receive it?" As Alan rattled off questions one after another like a kid clicking through the slides on a viewfinder, Max's smile had faded. It had turned to a somber one, one that brought along an unfortunate wake up call. Alan showed no signs of slowing down on the questions and with a deep breath, Max had to jump in like a car being forced to switch lanes.

"Dad died three years ago." The statement halted Alan and brought the room to an even more present silence, his line of questions abruptly halted. Alan didn't know how to respond. Of all his questions he freely snapped out, he didn't know which one to follow that up with. He sat back in his seat, mouth shut and body relaxed as if he'd just given blood.

"Yeah" whispered Max subtly nodding his head. "He was sick for a while, didn't want anyone to know. Didn't want people to feel bad for him or whatever. Towards the end it-" he cut himself off to process his next select choice of words. The two sat in the unmistakably loud silence, Max's words slicing the silent air. "-it wasn't how he wanted to be remembered."

Alan felt weightless, he didn't know whether to stand up and get fresh air let his eyes fill with water that he had now had been fighting back. "Why didn't he tell me? Did he tell anyone he was sick?"

"No" replied Max with no space between question and answer. "He especially didn't want you to know. After-" Max took a deep inhale through his nose. "Man, can I smoke in here?"

"I'd rather you didn't."

"Right. Right. After what happened to mom..dude, you meant the world to him. I remember him always talking about coming back here and seeing you, catching up and the three of us sharing a drink or something. Life just got in the way then he got sick and..and he just ran out of time."

Alan didn't have a response, his eyes looked down at the desk in front of him. The flashes had come back to him again. The sunny days at the beach with him, Francis, Melissa and Max. Max's second birthday and his cake too big for any of them to finish. Two lit candles, the words "HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAX" with a smiling firetruck beside. Francis and Melissa blowing out the candles and Melissa giving Max an affectionate kiss on the side of his bald head.

These thoughts that came back to him were ones that were always present but in this moment became an inundation of overwhelming nostalgia.

"I actually remember the last time that I saw him" said Alan who still was focused on the desk in front of him. "It was many, many years ago, I don't remember how old you were. One of the only things left in the house was the crib, Francis said he was gonna pack that in the morning. We were talking about our days back in school, there was this girl we both had a crush on, well-two girls. We both thought they were beautiful but we didn't want to step on each others toes. Neither of us would just make the decision to who we wanted to ask out, we could never decide on anything for anything. We'd be starving and still spend twenty minutes deciding where to eat." Alan let out a light chuckle with that last remark. His eyes lifted to Max across the desk. "He thought we should flip a coin. Heads he'd ask out girl A, tails I would. He flipped it and I called tails in the air. I got girl B. Girl B, her name was Sam or Sammy or something, she was nice and all but this was just a high school fling. Didn't work out. He asked the first girl out.." a brief but lingering silence filled the room "..and eventually got married to her and had you." Alan could no longer resist his eyes pushing out the water. They become glassy and a single tear ran down his face. "And here you are."

The two smiled at each other. Max didn't feel it to be appropriate to reply with a generic sentiment so instead, the two men almost simultaneously arose from their seats and walked around the desk to embrace in one more hug. Alan closed his eyes and felt the heartbeat behind his eyes as the tears tried push their way through. They enveloped each other for what felt like minutes but had actually been a few seconds. The two let loose of each other's grip and Alan used his now free arm to wipe his eyes.

"Do you want to get something to eat tonight? Catch up?"

"Thank you, man but I'm on my way. I'm just passing through. I've got to get on my way"

"What do you mean?"

"Me and my girl are moving out East. Seeing the country along the way. She's across the street getting a burger or something. This was out of our way but I told her we had to."

"Can I get your phone number or something? I-I have so many questions."

"It's all right here" Max said as he pulled a brown bag out of his satchel and handed it to Alan. It was solid, had some good weight to it. "All my information's in there. I'll be back, I don't know when but I promise." The two looked into each other's eyes. Alan's had been red from the water, Max's red for other reasons. Without saying anything, Alan put his hand out that had usually been stiff from the arthritis but had now been warm and inviting. Max gave a firm handshake back and the two smiled at one another knowing this was the start to something new.

Alan sat in his chair for a some time after Max had left. He'd been lost in his own head replaying memories one after the other, so entranced he forgot where he even was. When he finally came to being, he realized something important, the bag. He hadn't even thought about what was inside. Pulling the open, crumpled bag towards him, he had no expectations. A small silver film canister with a piece of masking tape on top. The label said "7/22/74." He opened the film can and inside was what he should've expected, an 8mm film neatly wrapped up with a folded piece of paper inside.. 'I've never owned a film camera, what is this?' He thought to himself. Looking for an answer, he unwrapped the note and read it.

"Alan, if you're reading this then I met you in person and now you know what happened to Dad. He loved you like a brother and didn't want your memory of him to be him in his final years. He asked me to find you at some point and give this to you (he said he knows the library has a projector in the basement.) Dad wanted me to write 'how I want you to remember me. Remember us.' Attached is my phone number. We've got catching up to do. Thanks for everything. - Max"

Nightfall, the library was empty. The customers all gone with their new discoveries of literature and cinema. The doors locked, the building silent but not making a difference if it had been filled with people. The basement hadn't been as maintained as the rest of the interiors. Boxes of books, papers, assorted materials sagged around unorganized. After extensive online help, the aging Alan managed to set up the small film projector Francis knew was still there The film threaded and ready to be watched on the brick wall across from him, he stood next to the contraption in anticipation. His finger on the switch ready for it to unroll these pictures in motion. One deep breath in, one out, his brain did the remainder and..flick. The crackling of film unspooling through the light onto the screen brick wall screen. The first few moments had been foggy, out of focus, Alan didn't have a clue what he was looking at. Then, the camera panned up and when it did it, his brain made him smile. It was his confidant, his best friend, the man who he shared many cold beverages and long nights with. It was Francis in the water at the beach, just him on screen in the grainy and rough 8mm footage. Alan watched but after a few moments, he flicked the switch off of the projector. He remembered when this was, he remembered he was there but as importantly, he remembered what was playing. Alan took his phone out and opened his music app. When it was all ready, he put the phone down, pressed play against the silent footage and so went the song he remembered playing when this was shot.

Train rolls on

On down the line, won't you

Please take me far away?

The footage unrolled, the music played its beautiful harmonies. The footage was grainy but it had been as if Alan was transported back to that day in clear high definition. Him, Francis and Melissa all south side on the beach, before she had become pregnant with Max. He remembered the three of them drinking all day, the hot sun beating down on them and the cool water was a breath of fresh air. The film cut with Francis and Alan splashing around in the water, dunking on one another, goofing around, reveling in the times knowing they'd never be that young again. Life was changing, the world was changing but in this film reel, in these moments, it could forever stand still. The film jumped around, sometimes it was just Francis on screen, sometimes Francis and Melissa, sometimes Alan, sometimes the three of them. This triggered a memory that had been buried in the back of his brain. These days, these moments seemingly insignificant or simple petty amusements were now the stuff that would forever hold their legacies. Melissa was long gone, Francis was gone too. Alan and Max were the sole survivors. As he watched the footage of the three of them swimming, drinking beer, hanging out and laughing with the music playing from his phone, it made Alan weep uncontrollably but he wasn't sad. He saw his friends up on that screen, people who had gone but had made such an impact on his life of which he couldn't them away.

On screen was Alan and Francis clinking a Heineken beer together and drinking. There was no sound but Francis must have said something funny because it made Alan laugh so hard he spat up his drink. He laughed and dangled off to the side when suddenly...the reel ended. Alan was brought back to the contemporary. The projection rolling the film and clicking again and again while Alan stood in the darkness, the music still playing from his telephone. He didn't want to sit, he didn't want to pause the song. He just stared at the brick wall with the light projected onto it. He was smiling, almost laughing as the tears fell. Francis, Melissa and him were at one again. Time stood still, the song faded, and the room filled with near silence. Only ghosts remained now. The ghosts of those departed and the ghosts on screen. In a strange way, in a strange, unexplainable feeling, they were right there in the room with him. He wasn't alone.

The next day, Alan returned his books on his cart. He was still left with the enigma of this final book of which he couldn't find a spot for. His eyebrows became sharp as looked on the shelf, no place to put it. His eyes scanned the shelf once more, it had to be here. As he looked through, one title after another, one author after another, it suddenly became as clear as day to him. There were three books placed incorrectly. He couldn't believe he missed such an obvious mistake. He changed the order and after that, it was like putting the last piece on a puzzle. He had finally found the location for Tuck Everlasting. Every book had its place, every person was meant to live for some reason or for someone. He knew how long it took and how obvious it seemed, everything and everyone would eventually find its place.

Goodbye to you, babe

Goodbye to you yeah

Oh train