Fourth Bench On The Left (standard:Flash, 744 words)
Author: Ramon	Added: Jul 15 2004	Views/Reads: 3363/2224	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Different generations meet in a park and find they need each other . . .

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

Watson ambled up the sidewalk. “They know me in there. They'll think my
granddaughter just got out of prison.” 

“What do you care what they think?” Eusil put her hand on his left arm
and walked beside him.  Watson stopped occasionally and pointed  at 
various shrubs with his cane. When he pointed at a paper cup, Eusil 
picked it up, deposited it in a trash receptacle, turned and saluted. 
He touched his forehead with the cane. They sauntered toward Chicago 
Avenue. 

At the last bench before the avenue, Watson sat down and Eusil sat
beside him. 

“Now I have to rest before I cross the street.” 

She gave him a concerned look. “No big hurry.” 

He sighed. “I won't be walkin' much longer.” 

Eusil folded her arms. “Of course you will and I'll help. I helped my
grandpa, right up ‘til the end.” 

“I'm headed for the great golden bunkhouse in the sky, podner. The Big
Trailmaster done burnt a big C brand on my flank.” 

“Cancer? Researchers are coming up with new cures every day.” 

Watson broke a crooked grin. “Hope they get a move on. Not many days
left.” 

“There's lots of days left.” Eusil's jaw tightened. “It's not fair – we
just met.” 

Watson stood, gripped his cane and leaned toward her. “All because you
let out a Big Mac burp.” 

She forced a smile. “Thought it was you.” 

They waited for the “Walk” sign, crossed the street and turned left.
Smoke, stale beer fumes and Merle Haggard songs drifted from the open 
Roundup Tavern door. 

Eusil hesitated. “I won't be join'  you after all, podner – I better get
on down the trail.” 

Watson noticed her eyes were misty. “Yer welcome, if you want.” 

She studied a loose shoelace. “I kind of like you, ol' man.” Her chin
quivered. She stepped closer and put her hand on his on the cane. "It's 
like you're someone I know.” 

“I don't have a granddaughter.” He turned and started into the tavern. 

“Watson . . .” 

“Yeah?” 

“Be in the park tomorrow?” 

### 


Tweet