Shadows

Sarah was pinched in her Greyhound seat for the last few miles of what seemed like an eternity in a mixture bad breath and body odors and endless tones of snoring and both loud and muffed chattering for the past 6 hours.  The next stop, she was definitely getting off – no matter where it was.

Finally a sign, “Welcome to Stickneyville, population 500, founded 1911”.  The name nor the population gave promise of a bubbling metropolis, but anything was better than this bus, she thought.

Salvation came in the sound of the opening bus door hydraulics to give her a new beginning.   As she entered into the unknown landscape, she quickly reviewed the downtown street.  It was cute…in a preserved kind of way.  It was every smalltown she had ever heard about or seen.  The barber, dry cleaners, diner, small hotel amidst the town streetscape and even a general store, which she didn’t even know still existed.   And yes, even a small town one screen movie theater with an old-timey marquee and a town square with one of those gazebos.  It’s all here, she laughed.  Just as expected from the throwback decor.

Without hesitation, she gravitated toward the gazebo in the middle of square, in front of the theatre.  An elderly lady was sitting knitting on the bench, barely acknowledging her.

From the vantage point of the centrally located square, she could see each storefront.  Scanning the downtown street, she intently started looking in each shop for “help wanted” signs.  With only a few dollars in her pocket, she needed a job first and foremost.

“The diner has the best peach cobbler you ever tasted,” the lady said.  “So good that when old Grace ran out of peaches one day, I thought there would be a riot,” she laughed.  “That was during the depression, of course, when it was hard to get anything on a regular basis.  Her great-grandaughter Carrie still makes it from the same family recipe.”

Sarah nodded and kept looking at the windows.

“And the general store used to have some famous customers,” the lady continued. “Mamie Eisenhower, the former first lady you know, used to drive 20 miles from their summer place just to get a particular kind of hair spray.  Harlen ordered it for her special.  I think his grandson Paul has a few left she never picked up,” she laughed again never looking up from her knitting.  “Although, now that the highway is there, not as many people come up the old route.”  “HA,” she cackled loudly startling Sarah.  “Come to think of it, it was President Eisenhower who built that highway, she laughed again.  Ironic, isn’t it.”

“Sure,” Sarah replied with a squint in her face, not sure why this lady was talking to her, but determined to find something in the store windows.

“That hotel almost had some nefarious visitors too,” she whispered to Sarah.  “Them hippies.  They never stayed there, of course, Cal showed them the door the minute they stepped in with their bare feet and long hair.  So they parked their weird colored Volkswagen bus in front of the hotel for near on a week,” she told.  “Ernie kept trying to give them a ticket, but he could never find them.  I heard they disappeared into the woods all day.  Most folks thought they were praying to Satan,” she cackled again as she poked Sarah in the ribs with her elbow.  “But I saw a lot of funny smelling smoke from those woods and there ain’t no forest fire,” she giggled still never looking up from her knitting.

Sarah started to walk around the gazebo to see if any windows had signs she couldn’t see.

“Have you seen that movie, Star Wars, she asked Sarah.

“Sure, everyone has, it came out a long time ago,” Sarah replied, curious as to why this lady was still talking to her.  Where she came from, people just didn’t bother with one another.

“That movie has been playing here for ages,” the lady persisted.  “Seems like every time it goes away, it comes back again.  I asked Walter’s son Bobby why he keeps bringing it back.  I think he is one of those nerd boys that just likes that sort of thing.  Dresses up like the villain every Halloween….what was his name….something like Dark invader?”

Sarah laughed at looked down at her, “No ma’am, it’s Darth Vadar.”

“That’s right,” she smiled.

Sarah sat down and really looked at the lady for the first time.  From Sarah’s young perspective, she thought this lady was really old.  Her hair was like gray straw bunched under her pill box hat.  Her feet didn’t even touch the ground.  Only the tips of her orthopedic sneakers were touching the wooden slats of the gazebo.  Her coat looked like it was once very posh, but now, faded and a little ripped in places, it too looked lost in time.

“Well, I best be getting back to my house,” the old lady said struggling to get up.  “Need to get dinner on the table for my sweetie.”

Sarah helped her up and gathered her knitting and her bag.  “Nice to meet you honey, my name is Emily Stickney,” she waved as she wobbled away.  When you are looking for that job, mention my name.”

Wow, Sarah thought.  How did she know I needed a job?  And come to think of it, she managed to tell me the names of all the owners on the street.  “Huh,” Sarah laughed.

Gathering her things to leave, Sarah looked on the bench and saw a scarf the lady left behind with a little piece of paper marked “For Sarah.”  Sarah picked up the scarf and noticed there were silver dollars woven into the yarn.  Sarah immediately looked up to find the old lady, but she was no where in site.  Sarah smiled put the scarf on proudly. “I guess this means I belong here now.”