Wisdom Sits On A Park Bench
Image: Simon Howden / FreeDigitalPhotos.net
by William J. White
T
he elderly man sitting on the park bench was deep in memories, not seeing the words on the newspaper that he held in his lap, but becoming quickly alert as a young couple,arguing, walked past him. Under a short white mustache, his wide lips opened into a smile, as he watched the girl trying to encircle the waist of her companion ,with a thin arm. Each attempt was rebuffed, and finally the young man sidestepped away from her. When she reached out for his hand, it was quickly jerked away. As they walked down to the edge of the pond, there to continue their disagreement, the old man’s eyes followed them, his head slowly shaking from side to side, and even when the young man turned and caught him watching them, he continued to look their way, and only after he was given and sent back a middle- finger salute did he return to his newspaper. "That young fellow is slightly on the crude side," he declared to himself, raising his paper and peering over the top. “…harmless,” he heard the young girl saying in a raised voice, as she turned to join her companion in observing the old man. “I’ll go up there and see why he’s looking at us; maybe he knows us… No! You stay here. I don’t want a policeman coming by and hauling us off. I’ll be right back..." As the girl approached him he lowered his eyes, not wanting a confrontation in a public park. She stopped directly in front of him, staring over the top of his paper, with azure-blue eyes that didn't appear to be too friendly. "Hey, mister!" she said sharply, “why have you been watching us? My boyfriend don't like it." He looked up at her for a long moment. "Miss, it would take a long explanation..." "Do I know you?" "I believe not, miss."
"Just nothing else to do, huh?" "I like your hair." "What?" Placing her hands on her narrow hips, she glared down at him. "Are you one of those dirty-minded old geezers that hang around in parks ogling young girls?" Smiling up at her, he said: "My Elizabeth, bless her sweet soul, had hair like yours–a little dark brown added to pale yellow..." Still smiling, he closed his eyes, savoring the recollection. When they opened, he added: “She also had a walk like yours, sort of a glide, as though her feet weren't touching the ground." The girl, looking about, replied: "Where she at, mister...your wife. Elizabeth?" Placing his hand over his heart, he said, "You two young people have brought back to me some wonderful memories. She and I had spent many hours in this park, just walking, usually winding up on that bench down by the pond..." He locked his eyes onto hers. "But we would walk close. The air that we breathed was no more important to us than our feelings for each other..." "Yea," she said, looking down toward the pond to where her boyfriend stood, throwing rocks at the near-by swans, "me and Andy are like that...you know, close." She sat down, bumping her hip against him, making more room on the bench. "Yes, miss, I could see that. He must be real sweet on you." Frowning at him, she said–rather sharply, "Well, I suppose it's really my fault. He wanted me to do something with him...you know, to prove my love for him, and I told him that I wasn't ready for that. When you and what's-hername...Elizabeth were going together," she said, toying with her hair with thin fingers capped with dark blue nails, "did she have to prove her love for you before you would marry her?" "Young lady," he said, not too gently, and taking her hand in his, and being surprised when she didn't pull it away. "I cherished that woman from the first day I saw her. I cherished her purity; her innocence. It was my place to prove my love for her!" With his free hand, he pointed down to the pond. "You go down there and tell that young man that he is to prove his love for you by not asking you to do something that you don't want to do. If he cares for you at all, he will be proud of you for not accepting his terms." She stood abruptly, and looking down to where Andy was still throwing rocks, she remarked defiantly: "I will do it!" "That young lady has spunk," he thought, "If she can go through with it." He heard harsh words from both of them, and finally the young man turned and and stomped away. When she returned, her eyes were damp. "I'm sorry miss. I should not have butted in." Rubbing her fingers across her cheeks, and giving him half a smile, she said: "I'm glad you did, mister. I told him that I was not Lucy from school, who is always proving her love to different guys." Giving him a lop-sided grin, she remarked unhesitatingly, still dabbing at her eyes, "I told him that I was going to be an Elizabeth."
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