Harmony Revisited, page 8
Once again, the group struggled to move to the next topic, until one of JD’s former neighbors asked him if he’d seen what was going on at his old house. He nodded he had.
Another person said, “It probably had to come down. It was in such bad shape.” Then she could sense JD didn’t necessarily agree, so she added, “But it was sad to see it. Sometimes people are too quick to tear down historic structures.”
Marlene had grown up across the street from JD. She said, “I went by to check on our old house today, and I looked over and saw what was happening. The last time I was in town I’d noticed your house looked to be in bad shape, but I was stunned to see it being torn down today.”
“I know. I had been told it was coming down, but I didn’t know it would be today. Stunned is a good word for how I felt, too.”
Another classmate’s home had been demolished years ago. “It’s so hard to lose the place where you grew up. First you lose your family, then your old house, and there’s nothing left for you when you come back.”
JD smiled at her. “I get that.”
Marlene said, “JD, for some reason when I saw them working on your house today, I thought of your dad.”
He could feel a bit of tension go through the group. It was always uncomfortable for them to talk about his dad. Most of the time their discomfort led to silences or rapid subject changes, so for Marlene to openly speak of it was unusual, but welcomed.
JD answered, “I thought of him too, Marlene . . . and my mom . . . and my sisters.”
One of his classmates, a woman who’d been one of the quiet kids no one paid much attention to during their high school years, but who had achieved success running a not-for-profit near St. Louis said, “You know I have something I have meant to say to you for years, JD.”
He looked at her, giving her a moment to continue, then when she didn’t he asked, “And what is that?”
“I’ve meant to tell you how sorry I was for your mother, your sisters, and for you about the way you lost your dad. The first time or two I saw you after that, I just couldn’t come up with a way to say it, so I didn’t say anything and then the years passed and it seemed like the opportunity to say it had passed, too. So tonight, after hearing about your house and after hearing people talk about your dad, I felt the time was right.” She hesitated and it was apparent she had something to add, so they waited on her. Finally, her voice cracking a bit with emotion, she said, “I’m sorry it took me so long.”
“Thank you for that. One thing I’ve learned is that there is no good way to lose someone you love, especially your parents. By now we’ve all lost loved ones, so we’re all kind of in the same boat, I guess.”
“Yes, but none of us suffered through what you did. It was awful.”
There was another silence, and this time it was Reverend Millsap who brought it to an end. He looked at the woman who’d just offered her belated condolences. “That was very kind of you.” Then with the hint of a smile, he turned to the group. “But I have to say I’ve been to some reunions that were more fun than this one!” The mood changed and then someone commented on how badly rain was needed.
A couple of minutes later, another former neighbor asked JD if he’d seen his picture.
“My picture?”
“Yes, over there.” She pointed to a table with some open yearbooks.
“No, but I am sure I know which one it will be.”
Her smile became a mischievous chuckle. “Oh yes. I’m sure you do.”
Carolyn was curious at this point, so she went with JD to where a picture was displayed, showing him wearing a serape over his shoulder as he danced around a sombrero that lay at his feet. His glasses reflected the camera’s flash, and his lips were pressed in a thin look of anger directed at the photographer. Carolyn tried not to laugh, but she couldn’t help it.
JD spent the next few minutes explaining how he’d been coerced by his teacher into doing a hat dance in front of four hundred peers. His explanation earned him a little sympathy and a round of laughter.
And then, it was time to eat. Jeremy got everyone’s attention, reminded them of a venue change for Saturday’s dinner, then asked Reverend Millsap to say grace. If the reverend’s grace was any indication of his preaching, JD thought he was okay. The blessing was brief, saying everything that needed to be said in a few words. As soon as it was done, Jeremy invited people to start filling their plates.
The others left to get in line, leaving Marlene and her husband there with JD and Carolyn. Marlene asked JD if he’d heard from Wilson. The three of them along with Marlene’s younger brother spent most of their childhood playing at each other’s houses, so it was only natural that she ask about their missing friend.
“He’s coming up tomorrow. He and his wife just got back from one of those river cruises in Europe.”
“Oh good, I can’t wait to see him.”
“We’ll have some stories to share, won’t we?”
“We will, and I’m thinking the night of the drunk may be on the list.”
“For sure.”
Carolyn looked puzzled. She’d never heard this one.
JD saw her confusion and told her she’d have to wait for Wilson to join them. He was part of the story and needed to be there when it was told.
As they talked, the reverend put his arm around Marlene. It was good to see his affection for her, because Marlene was a good person and she deserved to be happy. She had met Joseph Millsap when they were both in their forties. Where she was short and looked much like her mother (something that JD wanted to say, but wasn’t sure how it would go over), the reverend was almost six-feet. His hair was nearly all white now and it gave him the distinguished look a retired minister should have.
y 16 z
JD and Carolyn sat at a table with Reverend Millsap and Marlene. They were joined by a farmer and Gloria, his wife. Gloria was a classmate, and her husband was several years older. They owned a farm at the far northwest corner of the county, and without their wanting it, they became the focus of the conversation that night.
The farmer spoke little at first, being more interested in what the rest of them were saying. Rawley Quinton wore a neat white shirt buttoned to the neck, and if this dinner had been in Texas, his shirt would have called for a bolo tie. He had a wisp of gray hair in the middle of his head that was holding its own against the receding hairline on either side of it. Maybe it was because he was so quiet that he became the most interesting person at the table. Whatever the reason, JD and the reverend started asking him questions, and his answers were short at first, but as the conversation continued, the farmer opened up, and his words spoke of changing times and of what was lost as those changes came.
He talked about the old Allis-Chalmers tractor he had when he first started—a simple piece of machinery that seldom broke down and was easy to fix when it did. He talked about all the neighbors they had back then, all of them living on smaller farms with big families and making it feel like a neighborhood. He talked about the one-room Gravel Ridge Grade School where he went until all the small rural schools in that area were closed and the kids were sent to a larger school near his home. He told them about the old country church his family attended until it too was closed due to declining membership.
He reminisced about market days, usually Saturdays, when they’d go to town to shop. They’d see people in town they wouldn’t ordinarily get to see, all of them standing around and visiting on days the weather allowed. JD, a town kid, remembered those as well. He told the farmer he loved being on the square those days, winding his way through the people and enjoying the activity. He said he regretted those days were gone, with the town the worse for it.
Carolyn looked at Gloria, who was sitting there quietly as her husband spoke. She instinctively liked Gloria. She wore very little if any makeup and had on a blouse that reminded Carolyn of one her late mother loved and wore almost daily. That and the way she looked at Rawley as he spoke endeared her to Carolyn.
Finally, Gloria took pity on her husband for being the unwanted center of attention and changed the subject by reminding JD of his second-worst day in high school. It was a year earlier than the hat dance fiasco, but like that day, JD found himself on the stage in front of all of peers. This time, JD and his fellow science club members were conducting demonstrations for the entertainment of the student body. His was the final and the most entertaining demonstration of the assembly, including a spectacular eruption of sparks and smoke. To his surprise though, it also involved his chemistry teacher running out on the stage with a fire extinguisher and dousing the molten mass of his experiment. Once the white cloud disappeared, the students could see JD standing there with a look of confusion on his face. The audience’s laughter erupted immediately, and even though their applause soon followed, JD heard only their laughter. Luckily the yearbook photographer wasn’t on hand for that humiliation.
Upon hearing the story for the first time, Carolyn said, “JD, after looking at your yearbook picture and now hearing this story, I’m amazed you had the courage to show up tonight.”
“Tonight! What about the day after both of those fiascoes? Those were the days that took courage.”
Everyone laughed, and JD couldn’t help but join them. It felt good to laugh and he didn’t mind being the cause of it.
His story spurred another round of reminiscing, and they kept talking through dessert and coffee until they’d run out of stories. Gloria checked the time, saw that it was going on 9:30, and said, “Well folks, this has been great, and we can keep talking, but no one is going to top your stories, JD.”
“Oh please, let’s keep talking until someone does.”
Gloria said, “I don’t think that’s possible. Besides, we always get up early, so I guess we’d better get going. It’s been nice to share this evening with you. I haven’t laughed this hard in years.”
She and Rawley went to pick up their dishes and say their goodbyes to the others. Just before they went out the door, they turned and waved to the Bauers and the Millsaps.
The crowd soon started to thin, and before long there was only a small group left for cleanup. The school administrator in him wouldn’t allow JD to leave until the tables and metal chairs were cleaned and stacked, the trash was taken outside, and the floor was swept. The group went about their work with a purpose, and within a half hour, the room was ready for its use as an art gallery during the upcoming fair week.
During cleanup JD sought out the classmate who’d offered her condolences on the loss of his dad. He wanted to tell her how much that had meant to him. She was talking to someone, so he waited for her to finish. When she did, he said, “I want to thank you for what you said earlier.” She looked puzzled, so he added, “About Dad. That meant a lot to me.”
Her face became serious. “It was long overdue from me—from all of us I think.”
“Still, this is one of those times that the phrase better late than never truly applies.”
She had something else she wanted to say. He could see her mind working, perhaps trying to decide how to say it, so he waited. Carolyn, who’d been saying goodbye to Marlene and the reverend, came to stand by him, and then the woman asked, “Have you ever seen any of the Culvers since that summer?”
He was stunned by her question. “Yes, just today in fact. I saw Glen.”
“Did you talk with him?”
His eyes widened. “No. It would be difficult to do that.”
“So you’ve never talked with any of them?”
“No. Why do you ask?”
“I was thinking how I felt better finally saying something after all these years, and maybe Glen or one of the family might have something they’d like to say, and maybe it would help.”
JD was unsure what to say, so Carolyn spoke for him. “I agree. That could be a good conversation.”
The woman smiled. “It might be. It’s a thought at least.”
Before JD could say something else, another classmate walked up to say goodbye, telling them she wouldn’t be at Saturday night’s dinner. They talked for a bit, and as they did, the first woman walked away. She left before he could get back to her.
JD and Carolyn resumed saying good night to the few who were still hanging around. There was the chance some might not be at dinner on Saturday, so he made one more connection with everyone just in case. It was a loose end he needed to take care of, and JD Bauer was never a man for loose ends.
y 17 z
They walked out into the night. It had cooled some, but not so much that a jacket was needed. With no moon that night, the stars were on full display, and JD paused to take in the sky. Where city people must either make a long drive to see a sky full of stars or pay to see a simulated version illuminated on a planetarium ceiling, rural folk just step out their back doors and enjoy the real thing.
The sky reminded JD of summer nights when he was a kid and especially of nights he and his friends were allowed to sleep outside. They’d stay awake as long as they could, talking and watching for shooting stars, and sometimes they’d be rewarded. One of those nights, maybe when he was ten or eleven, he and Wilson camped out in Wilson’s yard. They were too excited to sleep, because the next day was the Fourth, and they had a full day planned. They were going to get up early to go fishing in a lake just south of Wilson’s home. They’d spend the afternoon lighting firecrackers, blowing up anthills and measuring the launch of tin cans with varying numbers of firecrackers exploding underneath. Then they’d cap it off by getting into mischief while the adults enjoyed a street dance on the square. JD smiled at the memory of that Fourth, because it ended up being everything he and Wilson hoped it would be. There’d never be another quite so good.
He got out his phone and checked the time. Wilson and his wife should be landing in KC after a couple of weeks in Europe. They were due to come up the next day. He looked forward to seeing his old friend. There were lots of memories to share, not the least of them being that Fourth of July sixty-some years ago.
JD opened his car door and prepared to take a seat next to Carolyn, pausing to stare north across the car’s roof at the sea of RVs parked in preparation for fair week. As he took in the scene, a realization came to him. You’re in there somewhere, Glen Culver. I can feel it.
He slid into his seat and shut his door, ready to get them on their way.
Carolyn said, “I thought the evening was better than the last one. What did you think?”
He turned to face her. “I thought it was good.”
“So did it help get you past some of the rough parts of the day?”
“Yes and no.” JD thought for a moment. “You know what, that’s not exactly right. It’s more complicated than that. The parts of the evening that made me say no were good too, in their own ways.”
She knew which parts he meant. “And what did you think when your classmate suggested you speak with Glen Culver?”
“Well, to be honest, I wondered if you put her up to that!”
“Seriously?”
“Not really, but it was sort of coincidental, don’t you think?”
“That just tells me it’s meant to be.”
“I will say one thing. When you decide something needs to happen, you don’t let up until it does.”
She nodded. “You’ve got that right.”
He started the car, backed out of the parking spot, and began the twenty-minute drive to their motel.
A couple of miles out of town, he had another memory he thought he’d share, but as he looked her way, he could tell she was already sleeping. He thought about turning on the satellite radio to listen to some tunes from the sixties but decided against it. Instead he spent the time thinking about his day—about Culver, then about his old house. Watching as it was being demolished felt a little bit like being at the bedside of a dying loved one. The memory of those final moments is always the first one to come to mind: something to be worked through before happier times can be recalled. Still, he was determined not to let that mental image prevent him from celebrating how good it had been growing up in that house. It wouldn’t be easy, but he’d get there.
yz
Carolyn brushed her teeth and thought about their day. She was exhausted. They’d gotten up early and had a busy schedule. How tired must JD be if I’m this worn out? she thought. He’s experienced every emotion today. And then there was Glen Culver. She looked at herself in the mirror. Well, the tour of the town didn’t exactly go as planned, but running into Glen Culver might turn out to be fortuitous. It’s up to JD to make something good come from it, but I’m not above helping to make it happen.
She filled the plastic cup and rinsed her mouth, then she flipped the light switch and left the bathroom thinking of one more thing she wanted to say to JD. He was already asleep though. As she watched him lying there, her mind went back to the woman who’d been so kind to him earlier that evening. She wished she’d gotten the woman’s name and address, so she could send a note letting her know how much her words had meant. She made a note to ask Marlene.
y 18 z
Carolyn woke and rolled over to say good morning. When she patted JD’s side of the bed, he wasn’t there, and she knew why. When they had checked in they’d been told of a diner that served the kind of breakfast JD had enjoyed when he was on the road with his dad. He still craved those breakfasts full of carbs and calories, loaded with sugar and salt, and smelling like the past, but he only allowed himself that guilty pleasure when he and Carolyn traveled.
She heard the sound of the shower hitting the plastic panels of the tub-surround, and nothing else. While he wasn’t much of a shower singer, JD could whistle like a pro. She’d learned over the years that the days he didn’t whistle in the shower were days he had a lot on his mind. Soon he emerged from the bathroom freshly shaven, with a towel around his waist. He began searching his overnight case for clean underwear. As Carolyn passed him on her way to the shower, she slid her finger down his back, then loosened his towel with a tug. She walked away laughing as he made a frantic move to grab it. It was a playful move, a little unlike her, and it made him smile. Minutes later, when she came out of the shower, she heard him whistling as he finished getting dressed.
