Continued, Life A Love Story
Flo awakened in early morning, dressed, took a walk clean around the block, and felt strong as Spartacus.
Hours later, she still feels strong as Spartacus, and she’s dying to tell someone about the adventure she just had.
Teresa is at work, though, and Flo is hard-pressed to think of someone else she might share this story with. But then she remembers Mildred.
She walks the short distance to Mildred’s house and knocks on the door. It is opened immediately.
“Remember last time we visited, and you told me that story about ice skating?” Flo asks Mildred. “Now I got a story to share with you.”
“Oh, goody,” Mildred says, without a trace of irony. “Come on in.”
When the women are seated at the kitchen table, Flo says, “Now. I took a walk today, just around the block. And you know that creek runs behind the Millers’ house, the one with wildflowers growing up all alongside?”
“Yes, I love that creek. You can catch polliwogs there.”
“You catch polliwogs?” Flo looks around the kitchen as though she might see a jar full of them bumping into each other.
Mildred laughs. “No, but the neighborhood kids do.”
“Oh. Well, anyway, when I went by there, there was a man sitting down close to the water.
There was a smell I noticed, and his clothes were none too clean.
But he seemed peaceful, you know, butterflies flitting by him, and him not moving except to raise a sandwich to his mouth.
I called out to him, ‘Hello there!’ He turned around quick and his face was full of worry; maybe he thought he was going to get kicked out of the neighborhood.
But I waved and said again, ‘Hello!’ and then he smiled a most beautiful smile. Not many teeth, but a beautiful smile.
“I asked him was he having a picnic. ‘Just eating a fried egg sandwich,’ he said. I told him that was one of my favorites, and he said, ‘Come and join me, we can share!’ ”
“Uh-oh,” Mildred says.
“Now, I was afraid, too, Mildred, even though it was broad daylight, but I said to myself, Oh, what’s the difference?
” It occurs to Flo to tell Mildred about her diagnosis, but she doesn’t want to, not yet.
It will interrupt her story, which she is having a fine time telling.
She says, “What I mean is, I thought, At my age I’m on my way out anyway, and if this man up and murders me I’ll only be on my way a bit sooner. ”
Mildred frowns. “You didn’t really think he would do that, did you?”
“I guess not. I guess we just get programmed to be afraid of certain things. Anyway, I asked the man, I said, ‘Do you really have enough to share?’ and he said all hearty, ‘Of course I do!’ Said, ‘You can have this half, it’s clean,’ and he held it up wrapped in a napkin and his eyes were all squinched up friendly in the sunlight.
I inched closer but I didn’t get too far because the uneven ground was too hard for me.
The man got up and came on over to me. He was tall and real skinny, with such gentleness in his eyes.
He handed me the sandwich and I took a quick peek inside to make sure it looked safe.
I suppose it was rude to do that, but I just felt I had to.
Well, not only did it look all right, it smelled wonderful.
‘Where did you buy this?’ I asked him and he said, ‘I didn’t buy it, there’s a lady who drops by food for me sometimes.
Her name is Anne, she lives across the street.
She’s maybe in her eighties, but very strong.
Do you know her?’ I said I didn’t think so.
He said, ‘She wears a little topknot? And she has bangs and very intense eyes that seem to almost burn into you?’ I said no, I didn’t know her.
‘Well, I guess she likes to feed people,’ he said.
“He patted his breast pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, all bent and battered. He asked did I want one and I said no thank you and he looked at the pack and put it back in his pocket. ‘You can smoke,’ I said, and he said, ‘Nah, it’s a filthy habit. I just can’t quit it altogether.
’ He said, ‘I started when I was nine years old.’ ‘Nine years old!’ I said, and he just shrugged.
He asked me, ‘Don’t you have any bad habits that started in childhood?
’ I said most likely, but I couldn’t think of any now.
He said, ‘You’ll think of some later. Most likely when you’re trying to go to sleep tonight. ’
“I took a bite of the sandwich he’d given me and it was a lovely mix of warm fried egg and salt and pepper and butter.
My appreciation must have shown on my face because the man said, ‘Yeah, that’s one of my favorites that she gives me.
’ He told me his name was Archie and I told him my name.
He said, ‘Are you Flo all the time?’ I said, ‘Well, yes, that’s my name.
’ He said, ‘I like to change my name every day. Today I’m Archie. ’
“ ‘What were you yesterday?’ I asked. He thought for a minute and then he said, ‘Oh yeah. Floyd.’
“I told him I used to have a milkman named Floyd and I sure did like him and his cheerful demeanor, always smiling, Floyd was. He had a gold tooth seemed to flash out Good morning! Good morning! I said, ‘That’s a good name, Floyd.’
“ ‘Not as good as Archie,’ he said, and I just nodded. I won’t say I agreed with him, but there was no use in souring the moment with a petty disagreement.”
“Too soon for a first fight,” Mildred says.
“Right. But I thought Archie had a good idea with a different name for every day, and I told him if I had a name for me today it would be Maria. ‘No,’ he said. ‘What do you mean, no?’ I asked, and he said, ‘That name doesn’t suit you.’ ‘What name does?’ I asked him, and he said, ‘Julia.’
“ ‘Julia!’ I said. And I was pleased because I thought Julia was a right pretty name.”
“It is a pretty name,” Mildred says. “And it does suit you.”
Flo has an urge to look into a mirror as if to confirm that, but there is the story to finish.
“I asked Archie, ‘Where does this Anne person live?’ ‘Over yonder,’ he said, and he pointed to a little white house with a picket fence around it, something you might see in a children’s book.
I asked Archie if he would introduce me to Anne.
He told me to just knock at her door, she was real nice.
As for him, he had to go and meet up with some pals in town.
‘Gotta go to Bum Club,’ he said, and laughed this real raspy laugh.
“I started toward Anne’s house but then I turned back.”
“Why?” Mildred asks.
“Two reasons. One is I thought maybe I’d like to find her a little gift because of how she gifted others. The other reason is I thought maybe I would hold that idea inside to look forward to. I’m sure you’ve heard this, Mildred, but they say you need someone to love, something to do—”
“And something to look forward to,” Mildred says.
“Right. So that is one of my something to look forward tos. I want to write a little note thanking Anne for her regular kindnesses. You remember how Lady Bird Johnson had flowers planted all along the highway? That’s how I feel about these things.
One person does one nice thing, and it blooms in the breast of another.
Pass it on. Sometimes the strife in this world makes me think I must be silly to have such hope for the spread of good.
But I have it anyway. You never know when something is going to hike your spirit up.
Like when that man told me something as he was leaving; he looked back over his shoulder and he said, ‘I never did know what kindness was in the world until I admitted my need for it.’ ”
Mildred sits back in her chair. “Flo, would you give me permission to write an article about this? Would that be okay?”
“Well, of course it would!”
“I think if a magazine takes it, it might make a nice Christmas story. I’ll have it framed for you.”
“…Oh,” Flo says, and Mildred says, “What’s wrong?
” and so Flo tells her she won’t be around at Christmas, and why.
And here’s what Mildred does: she puts her hand over Flo’s and looks clear and direct at her.
And that is all and that is everything: a friend talking to a friend and the sun coming through the kitchen window and the birds yakking in the backyard trees and the way Flo might be gone but the story will be there.