Post by t-bob on May 19, 2024 19:12:29 GMT -5
"Here are a few notes for a story. I have used parts of this in other stories. Sort of a spare parts box of bits and pieces.”
The Old Man:
She remembered the time they had raked all the leaves into giant piles beneath the trees of estate where old Dad had worked. They had planned on taking the leaves to the bon fire at the edge of the school athletic field for the first game of the the season.
But that night before they put the leaves on the truck the big storm had come through and the leaves were swept away in the hours of heavy rain. The town creek had swept trough the town and the flower boxes outside the grocery store and the meat market had become wooden boats and went to someplace where flower boxes and small shrubs go.
The bon fire was built and everyone who had become wet over the past few days attended to dry off and regret the loss of all that had disappeared in the flood.
No one noticed at that moment that Old Dad, the gardener at the big hill side estate did not attend the event. No one noticed that the young guy who had worked at the highway gas station was not there.
On the farm where Old Dad had his room next to his wife's sitting room they did notice the absence of the man who did the morning milking and who brought in the wood for the cook fire.
The young man who slept in the room in the loft of the barn took over those chores and now sat with the others at the meal table. He did not sit at the chair near the iron heater but he did seem to take notice that he now had a napkin and napkin ring at his seat.
The wife and the small daughter would refill his coffee cup and the young girl walked home from school with him a few times.
Perhaps he noticed but did not say that the gardener went away shortly after the farm helper got his driving license and had learned to use the tractor to pull the hay wagon.
Old Dad had gone away with the clothes on his back and a small cloth bag. The wife put all that he had left behind in a chest in the hallway near the door. They stayed in that chest until one day she decided that the help had grown into the shirts and shoes.
As time past she found that where ever he was he was safe and he sent small amounts of money from time to time. He was not one to write long letters and not one to say where he was at the time of the writing. She kept the envelopes with the post marks and she used the atlas book at the library to trace his trail. He stayed in the state and none of the towns seemed to be more than post office and road crossings.
The Old Man:
She remembered the time they had raked all the leaves into giant piles beneath the trees of estate where old Dad had worked. They had planned on taking the leaves to the bon fire at the edge of the school athletic field for the first game of the the season.
But that night before they put the leaves on the truck the big storm had come through and the leaves were swept away in the hours of heavy rain. The town creek had swept trough the town and the flower boxes outside the grocery store and the meat market had become wooden boats and went to someplace where flower boxes and small shrubs go.
The bon fire was built and everyone who had become wet over the past few days attended to dry off and regret the loss of all that had disappeared in the flood.
No one noticed at that moment that Old Dad, the gardener at the big hill side estate did not attend the event. No one noticed that the young guy who had worked at the highway gas station was not there.
On the farm where Old Dad had his room next to his wife's sitting room they did notice the absence of the man who did the morning milking and who brought in the wood for the cook fire.
The young man who slept in the room in the loft of the barn took over those chores and now sat with the others at the meal table. He did not sit at the chair near the iron heater but he did seem to take notice that he now had a napkin and napkin ring at his seat.
The wife and the small daughter would refill his coffee cup and the young girl walked home from school with him a few times.
Perhaps he noticed but did not say that the gardener went away shortly after the farm helper got his driving license and had learned to use the tractor to pull the hay wagon.
Old Dad had gone away with the clothes on his back and a small cloth bag. The wife put all that he had left behind in a chest in the hallway near the door. They stayed in that chest until one day she decided that the help had grown into the shirts and shoes.
As time past she found that where ever he was he was safe and he sent small amounts of money from time to time. He was not one to write long letters and not one to say where he was at the time of the writing. She kept the envelopes with the post marks and she used the atlas book at the library to trace his trail. He stayed in the state and none of the towns seemed to be more than post office and road crossings.