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Les (standard:other, 656 words) | |||
Author: Pitter Pat | Added: Oct 17 2003 | Views/Reads: 3599/1 | Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes) |
For fifty years, Les never gave up his dream. Sadly, no one knows for sure if it came true. | |||
His name was Les. One of the sweetest old men I've ever met. Every evening at 7:30 p.m. he would take his walking cane and go to the bank of the river to tell his story to anyone who would listen. Fifty years ago there was a fair on the banks of this river. I worked with the crew that sat up children's rides. One day, the sweetest girl I had ever seen sat down on a rock near the site and watched me work. At break time I went over to the rock and asked the young lady if I could buy her cold drink. I doubted if such a pretty lady would have anything to do with such a dirty thing as me, but she smiled and nodded yes. We walked to the lemonade stand and I took a small bag of change from my pocket and paid for two lemonades. We chatted as if we were old friends. When it was time to return to work I asked her if I could see her again that evening. She said yes, she would meet me by the lemonade stand at 7:30 p.m. Soon the routine became as automatic as eating, every evening I would hurry home from work, shower and shave, and at 7:30 p.m. I would hurry to the riverbank to meet my darling Julia Ann. We would sit and talk until 10:00 p.m., when she would leave. Many times I asked her to allowed me to walk her home, but she always refused. I feared I was not good enough for her family. One chilly fall evening curiosity overcame me and I decided to follow her. I carefully hid behind trees and bushes as I followed her down the trail beside the river. About a mile down the path she disappeared. There were no paths leading elsewhere, only a small houseboat tied to an old boat dock. I sat on a rock just out of sight of the boat and began to ponder the situation. Occasionally migrant workers would come to the area in houseboats, tie them in a secluded area, and work for area farmer through the spring, summer, and fall. After the first frost, the families would follow the river south to find more work. I sat on the rock all night and watched the little houseboat. Occasionally a grungy rotund man could be seen on the boat's deck, then, after about an hour, I saw my Julia Ann through a window. My heart sank, I couldn't bear the thought my beautiful Julia Ann would soon be gone. As the sun appeared above the horizon, I left the riverbank. My decision was made. I took the day off of work, went to the jewelry store on Main Street and put my last dollar down on a wedding band, then proudly carried it to the riverbank. To my horror, the boat was gone. After a while I walked to “our” spot by the lemonade stand. On the picnic table where we always met was a note. My Dearest Les, It breaks my heart to leave you, but I must go away for a while. Please, don't give up on me, I will return to you. I will love you always, Julia Ann I have come here everyday for the past fifty years. I know someday she will return and I will place this ring on her finger. A few of the town's people laughed at Les for waiting fifty years for his love to return, others thought he was wonderfully romantic. A week ago Les disappeared. He had gone to the riverbank at 7:30 p.m. and never returned. Some say he finally gave up and killed himself in the river. Others say a grungy old houseboat had been seen tied to the old dock earlier that evening and had floated down the river a little after 7:30 p.m. © July 2003 Tweet
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