Dancing for Harriett

Today, I woke up feeling a bit abandoned; although self inflicted it still weighs heavy on me. I laid in bed listening to the birds outside singing of optimism to one another and realized that a song is just one of many things I no longer have. In between their pleasant communications I can also hear the river running past my life and I know that today is going to end well. I bathe, make a solemn breakfast of oats and spread the cover across the small lumpy bed that takes up most of the space in this pitiful place. I then walk out side and remember happier times and wonder if anyone has remembered me. I was born Alex Western in 19 and 27 in a town I can no longer remember the name of. The third of six children in a family so poor that my pa used to have us steal eggs from the chicken farmer across the road. He worked in some long forgotten steel mill and died young, a trait not past on to me. My ma died birthing my baby brother and pa made the oldest sister do the raising. I wonder if she’s still living. I always did like her. I walk down to the river and sit in an old wooden chair that was here when I came up here 18 years ago. Sitting there, I watch the water flowing and think about my life. That’s when the tears start to roll off my cheek and absorb into my clothes. That’s what this is all about today. It is my time to be absorbed. I can’t really recall when I made the decision to drop out of normal life and come up here but I know it was after the woman I spent 40 good years with was killed. I walked away from the house I built us, the business and never even so much as said goodbye to those worthless children I sired. Left everything but this rotten fish camp shack that I talked Harriett into buying a week before the robbery. The kids never knew about it so I have never been bothered by them none. Only seen me 3 people in all these years, two hunters and a man fishing that got himself lost. I haven’t even gotten a piece of mail or read a newspaper in all these years. I eat what I grow and catch and drink the water from the river. It’s a life not worth a plugged nickel but I keep my promises. Harriett and I bought a small restaurant after the kids left, it was up in the town of New Haven on the Colorado boarder that mainly served up food to the locals and mountain men. I always made comments to her about them; and she’d always giggle just like a school girl on her first date. I loved that woman like nothing else in this world. Never strayed or so much as raised my voice to her. We were happy, mostly, though we had so many trials with them kids. Two of them, a boy named Billy after my Granddad and a girl named Margaret after Harriett’s Ma. When they left for collage both of them turned wild and no amount of our love could ever bring ‘em back. After we stopped sending them money we stopped hearing from them, and it suited me just fine. Me and Harriett grew older together sharing a love that just can’t be put into words. I had driven over to pick up the eggs that day; I remember her wearing that pretty green dress that made her eyes shine like the sun. I had a smile as wide as the world that day. We were going to slow down and let some folks take over the business and go up fix that shack up. We had talked about all the things up there and how we’d grow old and live a life without worry. She was excited about having the rest of lives to talk and fish and be together. She had already showed me where her garden was going. One night I heard her crying and I asked what was wrong. She told me it was silly and to not pay her no mind. I pushed it and she made me promise that on all my birthdays I’d give her the first dance. I asked her why but she wouldn’t tell me, so I tried to get her to laugh and asked her if she meant even when I turned 80. She looked at me and said no, waiting fro me to give her my word. I never really knew what that meant but I made the promise and she smiled at me. I was listening to the radio on my way back with them eggs when I heard that New Havens bank had just been robbed. I felt like I was about to burst into tears cause the banks next door to our place. Pete, the sheriff told me them boys had gotten into a shoot out with Oscar, his deputy. Harriett had been hit by a bullet fired towards the lawman that had missed its target. He told me he was sorry for my loss. After her funeral Pete asked me if he could ask me something. We sat a spell and he said, I didn’t tell you this before but Harriett said something to me before she past. On the edge of my seat I listen to him. She simply said, you tell him I love him, and for him to keep his promise. I don’t know whether it was knowing she had said that, or that she was gone or both that made me get in the truck, eggs still in the back and drive away. So, tonight I will be dancing. I do for her in her honor. Silly but I made a promise and I will always know I kept it. I’ve waited for this day a long time. I had always hoped the good lord would have taking me by now, but he didn’t. So, I’ll be making the fire as the night chill comes and then as the moon raises in the timber lined sky I shall celebrate my 79th birthday with our last dance……….