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WHAT IF
by George
Lester |
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With
great anticipation I headed straight for Molly’s house. The week we
had been apart seemed like a month. Her mother and father were home
so our initial greeting was somewhat subdued but I sensed that Molly
had missed me as much as I had missed her. I brought her up to date
on how things had gone down in Natchez and continued to chat with
her and her parents for awhile.
I told them I had to find a hotel room for the night. I excused myself
and told Molly I would be back later to take her out to dinner and
a movie if she wished. It was a chance for me to be alone with her
and I was glad she agreed. I breathed a sigh of relief because I wasn’t
sure what she would say considering the atmosphere surrounding our
last parting when I left for Natchez.
After I checked into the hotel I drove to the West Monroe radio station.
Even though it was a Saturday the manager and program director were
there. I was hoping they would be. I received a much warmer welcome
than I figured I deserved after deserting them the way I had. We sat
around recalling all the wonderful times we had together. There were
a lot of them. I didn’t mention all the problems I was encountering
in Natchez.
They told me they had attempted to continue the simulated live program
I had been doing but they admitted it wasn’t the same. It had taken
me years to develop all the subtle nuances of the show and it wasn’t
fair to expect someone to duplicate it in a week. The manager assured
me that my job was still open should I want to return. It would have
been so easy to accept the offer immediately and just kiss Natchez
goodbye. Something inside me just wouldn’t let me do it.
The higher salary I was receiving in Natchez wasn’t the only reason
I didn’t jump at the chance to return to West Monroe. It was more
like when I lied about my age and joined the Marine Corps at age 16
in World War Two. When boot camp turned out to be much tougher than
I had ever imagined I could have gone to the officials and confessed
my deception and I would have soon been on my way home. I felt I had
to take the challenge head on and stick it out no matter what. Later
I was glad I did. I reasoned that staying in Natchez was a similar
situation and things would get better if would just give it time.
I graciously declined the offer I wanted so much to accept.
The time had flown by and I knew Molly would soon be wondering what
had happened to me. It was a sad experience for me as I shook hands
with my good friends and left. The sound of their warm farewells echoed
down the stairway as I headed for my car.
Molly and I had a beautiful evening together. We laughed and reminisced
about the good times we had shared and the great relationship we had
built together. She even smiled when I told her how the week would
fly by and I would be back before she knew it. When I took her home
and told her goodnight I felt that everything was in accord between
us.
The next day I went by to see her again so we could have some more
precious time together. It was a beautiful autumn afternoon so we
decided to ride our bicycles side by side as we had often done before
We pedaled for miles down country lanes and drank in the dazzle of
the fall foliage. I felt at peace with the world. Molly seemed to
share the feeling. We stopped to rest by a serene lake and watched
the day slowly fade away.
I knew that Molly was a shy and complex person with deep hidden feelings.
She didn’t wear her emotions on her sleeve. It was difficult to know
what she was thinking and how she felt. I thought everything was going
placidly but when we started back to her house she suddenly stopped
her bike and started to cry hysterically. She was sobbing so that
I could hardly understand her. I finally realized she was telling
me she didn’t want to be left there with her parents. She said she
didn’t belong with them anymore and she wanted to just drop everything
and go back to Natchez with me.
I wanted disparately to tell her to pack her bags but in the mid fifties
people just didn’t live together unless they were married. It simply
wasn’t done. In spite of how much I cared for her the trauma of the
divorce I had gone through made me leery of getting married again.
I tried to tell her how I wanted to wait and make sure we were doing
the right thing. All the while I tried to justify my reasoning, the
words seemed to ring hollow. A man is lucky indeed to have someone
care for him as much as Molly did for me and here I was squandering
a chance of a lifetime. I have relived that moment in my mind a thousand
times. I have often wondered how different my life would have been
had I just cast my fears to the winds and taken her back to Natchez
with me that very night.
When we got back to her house I held her tightly and kept telling
her everything was going to be alright. I didn’t want to let her go
but it was getting late and I had a long drive ahead of me. I whispered,
“until next week.” and kissed her goodbye. As I walked to my car and
glanced back at her standing there silhouetted in the doorway I feared
that my words of assurance had fallen far short of their goal. I was
afraid that our relationship had suffered irreparable harm.
The journey back to Natchez seemed even longer than the trip up.
© George Lester
Spunky Flat
and Beyond - A Memoir
September 15, 2007 column
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