»
Main Forums
»
Passions in Prose
»
Knights are Where You Find Them
| Passions in Prose |
|
Knights are Where You Find Them |
|
|
Professor Gloom Member Elite
since 2000-07-23
Posts 3082of Depression |
It was “Back to School Night” and she was going over the little speech she would give to the parents in her head. Not that she didn’t know it by heart already, since it was almost exactly the same as the one last year and the one the year before. She would say it three times tonight as different groups of parents came into the library. Still she was nervous about speaking in front of the parents about books and their children. She loved books and children, which is why she became an elementary school librarian. She enjoyed her job and this was the only thing that made her the least bit uneasy about being the librarian. When it came to being in front of the parents she became self doubting, was her hair alright, would this dress do, and did she have on too much or not enough make-up. With children you didn’t need worry about how you looked, just the sincerity of what you were saying. The drive was long enough to go over her talk, yes call it a talk rather than a speech, three or four time. She was almost through the second time through when the tire blew out on her car. She pulled over to the side of the road at the first place with a wide enough side. This was a country road and the road was narrow and so were the sides which had deep gullies on either side except for where driveways went off to houses. She pulled over at one of these driveways half blocking the entry and pulled out her cell phone. She tried calling home, but this was one of those no reception areas. She got out of the car, looked at the tire and cursed under her breath. “Not very lady like response Marian.” She said to herself out loud. She would do that, talk to herself out loud when scolding herself. She made believe it was her father scolding, not her, which made it alright. She tried the cell phone again, perhaps standing up outside the car glaring at the flat tire would help the reception. It didn’t help and she thought about kicking the offending tire, but knew that wouldn’t help either so didn’t waste the effort. She looked around to get her bearings on just exactly where she was, just in case the phone decided to get reception by some miracle in the next ten or twelve seconds. It was a back road through farm country with curves, dips and narrow bridges over small streams. The pastoral peaceful aspect of this drive is why she came this way when the big highway was faster. She would just have to change the tire herself. She knew she could do it since she had just done it last week on the tire on the other side. Then that realization hit her, her spare was on the other side and the flat was still flat in the trunk. “Forethought, Marian will save you much grief.” She tried to scold herself in just the proper tone that her father would have, but it didn’t help. She was going to be late at best and possibly miss the “Back to School Night” altogether at this rate. Not the impression she wished to make on the parents. Now what was she going to do? It was about a mile to the nearest pay phone, if it was still there. That little store had closed down, sold out to a developer and they might have turned off the phone. The other way was about two and a half miles, but there was definitely a phone there. The other option was to go up to the house she was partially blocking the driveway of and ask to borrow the use of their phone. There was a time when she knew everybody for twenty miles around her house, or at least there name and some of their relatives, but not any more. Too much of the farm land was being made into little subdivisions, islands of suburbia, and city people were moving into the area. City people didn’t have the same friendly nature, no that was a generalization, some were friendly and some were just too busy. She’d seen that in the recent years in the parents of the children at the school. The parents, School, she had to do something fast to get there, these new transplants were more judgmental than the rural folk. She decided to be her friendly rural self and ask to use the phone of this neighbor. D. Gray the mailbox said, she didn’t know too many Grays. At least not in this area, she thought there were a few over by Pilot, but couldn’t remember any right now. At least she was dress for a good first impression. She walked up the gravel driveway toward the house. It was well packed and the sides mowed down recently, even if not trimmed by the fence. The fields were in Timothy, good for baling and feeding to stock, although there were no signs of an cows nearby. It was a good sized farm house with a nice front porch, complete with a swing, and there was a barn. Both looked recently fixed up and painted a fresh coat of white. She had plenty of time to take this in since the driveway was rather long. By the time she reached the porch and rang the bell she had expected to be noticed. No dogs barked and no one answered, even after her best knocking at the door. She tried her cell phone again, but still nothing. “You’re going to be late Marian” She scolded herself. Daddy was never late. “Late for what, Marian?” asked a deep male voice from behind her. She was startled. Obviously visibly so since the voice added. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you like that.” She turned to see a tall middle aged plus man wiping his hands on a towel, not a rag, who smiled at her. His eyes were kind and deep blue behind his glasses and his manner friendly as he offered his hand to shake. “Douglas Gray, and you are Marian ?” he left it hanging as a question, but not quite. “I’m Marian Blackwood, and I had a flat at the end of your drive.” After shaking her hand he leaned against on of the porch post to listen, he had that unrushed sense about him that reminded her of the older farmers. “Do you need help changing it?:” He asked. He had a voice that wasn’t soft, but still had a gentle quality about it. “Spares flat too” “Hmmm,” he stroked his chin as if he had a beard, but was clean shaven. “Now that does complicate things, doesn’t it. You already being late.” The was a smile in the tone although not on his face. “Not late yet, but soon.” “Well then I guess you need to use the phone” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys and opened the front door. “I’ve got one right here you can use.” He walk into the foyer, holding the inner door for her with one hand and pointing to a phone on a small table just inside what looked to be the living room. She used it to call home, but no answer. She tried to Garage where she always had work done on her car, but the line was busy. Bill, who she grew up with and went to school with, was probably yakking on the phone to Karen his wife. It always amazed her how those two always were talking. Through high school and still after about twenty years of marriage and five kids, they still talked and talked. Douglas had left the room as she tried to call, kindly giving her some privacy, but appeared a moment after her third attempt at calling Bill at the garage. “All set?’ he asked her. “No.” She said with a sigh, trying not to put on that pout face she knew had a tendency to creep onto her face when she was flustered. “No answer and busy lines, now I might just be late.” “I could give you a ride” he said cheerfully. “Where you going?” “To the elementary school, I’m the librarian and it’s back to school night tonight.” “Marian the Librarian?” he said with a raised eyebrow. “Yes I know,” she gave her standard chuckle. “I was fated by my name.” They went out the front door which he locked behind him. He led her to the barn where was a vintage Mustang in what appeared to be perfect condition. He opened the door for her and held it while she got in then got in and started the car. It roared to life with the sense of power, but not the noise that some people associate with sports cars. They chatted about her presentation at school and she even said it to him with perfection before they arrived just on time. He got out and helped out of the car and told her he’d stop by the garage and have them tow her car there and fix the tires. She thanked him and shook his hand before rushing into the school. Everything went perfect the rest of the night and she got one of the second grade teachers to drop he off at the Garage on the way home. Eleanor always took the highway, but it got her to pick up her car just before Ten when Bill said he was quitting for the night. She drove up and saw her car with two new tires on it and fretted that Bill was trying to stick her with the price of two tires. Not that she didn’t need them, it was just that she couldn’t really afford them. When she confront Bill he told her that her friend had already paid for them and the spare too. She was struck silent and barely was able to sputter out a thanks as she got into her car. She’d have to repay Mr. Gray, somehow. She drove back the back roads like always did trying to figure out what to say and how to say it to him. As she turned up his driveway, something didn’t seem quite right. Things change in the dark and it was a cloudy night. The moon peeked out occasionally from the clouds, but at half full didn’t add much light. As she drove up no lights were on in the house, and she thought maybe he went to sleep early and pulled up toward the barn to turn around and come back another time. She stopped with her headlights shining on his Mustang and her Cell Phone rang. “Hey honey, how’d it go?” it was her husband. “Fine, I’ll be home soon.” She told him as she got out of her car to look at the Mustang that was up on blocks. She hung up and looked at the car. Old and not driven in probably many years, yet it looked freshly washed and polished. She felt a chill. She drove straight home to her waiting husband, but didn’t tell him about anything but the back to school night events. She was having a hard time believing the rest herself and it was not till the next day when she saw the two new tires in the full light of day that she believed they were real. It was the only thing about it she could believe, for they could not be dismissed. Gloom |
||
| © Copyright 2005 Aszard Drazlom - All Rights Reserved | |||
|
Munda Member Elite
since 1999-10-08
Posts 3544The Hague, The Netherlands |
This was a very enjoyable read. I really like how you've put down Marian, described the situation and love the end. You never seem to use too many words, but enough to keep it interesting and the story reads with ease. (LOL Is that correct English?) However. I'd put some linebreaks here and there to make it even more easier to read. Yeah, lazy me! It might be a good idea to get rid of the typos, as it distracts a bit from the story. Very good write though!  |
||
Larry C
since 2001-09-10
Posts 10286United States |
Haven't read yet Prof. How does it feel to get the redlines instead of give them?  P.S. You do know I'll be back. If tears could build a stairway and memories a lane, I'd walk right up to heaven and bring you home again. |
||
|
miscellanea Member Elite
since 2004-06-24
Posts 4060OH |
Enjoyed this very much. It is comfortable reading and has a homespun affect. Thanks for posting. Very refreshing. Loved the end! miscellanea |
||
LoveBug
Moderator
Member Elite
since 2000-01-08
Posts 4697 |
I love these stories of kindness. I just happened to read PDV's story right before yours. I must say, it has helped cheer me! Your story is lovely, I love the sort of folklore spin on it, and a bit lighter than I'm used to reading from you. It's great Love's a lovely lad |
||
|
|
⇧ top of page ⇧ |
|
| All times are ET (US). All dates are in Year-Month-Day format. | ||
