WAYNEDALE SCRIBES’ CORNER
ONE MORE TIME
“Once More? For old times sake?” She didn’t reply and he didn’t really expect an answer. It had been several years since they had played together in the summer sun. They were both older now and a lot of the reasons that had brought them together in many a hot sweaty tangle just didn’t seem so important now. “You know, we used to be a pretty damn good pair.” She just lay there. “I remember when the kids were little. We used to go camping all the time. The kids enjoyed being around us in those days. I’ll never forget the time over in Ohio when Sis ran back to the campfire after the frog hunt.
She couldn’t have been much more than four years old. She was holding that frog in both hands. Its legs looked like they were dangling down almost to the ground. She was so excited that she kissed it.” She looked a lot like she did when she was younger. She had aged well. “The older the kids got, the busier things became. The two of us didn’t spend much time together. We should have. Always some excuses, not enough money, too much to do, too tired, not enough time.” The room was quiet. There was just the sound of breathing and the sound of an old clock ticking life away. “A lot of the folks that we used to spend almost every weekend with are still out there. Still doing the same old things. Still plotting and planning. Still having a good time.” He looked at her and he looked at his own pale reflection in the window. Maybe today he could pull the trigger.
“I’ll be right back,” he said. He walked out to the fence row and looked around. There wasn’t a soul around for miles. Nobody would notice, or care. The afternoon sun was behind him. This would be as good a time as any. “I think today’s perfect. I don’t even think that I’ll mind cleaning up afterwards.” He picked her up just like in the old days and carried her out the door. He didn’t remember that she was as heavy as she seemed to be today. Maybe he wasn’t as strong as he used to be. She hadn’t really changed.
“Are you ready?” He felt her smooth neck. He felt her coolness as he placed his cheek next to her. “This is something that I should have done a long time ago,” he said. When he squinted his eyes, he could see that she hadn’t really changed, he’s the one that had changed. He pulled the trigger. The sound was deafening. The acrid blue smoke swirled. “I knew you could do it.” The old musket had fired perfectly. She had hit the knothole in the fence post one hundred yards from where he stood. They really had done it one more time.
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