Jacob's Landing

"How are you?"

Her question seemed lame but she didn't know what else to say.

"Well, if I was all right, I wouldn't have called you, would I?" he asked.

His voice held a mixture of anger and disdain. Staying civil wasn't easy but she vowed not to stoop to his level of rudeness.

"I'm dying. I have a few months left. That should make you happy," he said with a smirk.

None of the scenarios she imagined came close to his admission. The sound of boats cruising along the channel disappeared as she tried to find the right words to use.

"Don't bother saying you're sorry. I know that wouldn't be true. We never got along before and I don't expect this to change anything."

Amber stared at the brother she helped raise and wondered as she often did why he seemed to hate her so much. Their childhood had been anything but normal. Abuse from their father scarred her yet didn't have an effect on her brother. The words he said after their mother passed away ran through her mind. I didn't need a second mother. I already had one.Six years older than Dave, she hadn't had a choice. Their mother hadn't been well. Their father worked. It fell to her as the oldest child to be sure all her siblings had food and clean clothes. Instead of appreciating the sacrifices she made, they hated her... and made sure she knew it.

"I'm ready to see mom. I've been talking to her and dying doesn't scare me. What I want is for me and you to be civil and maybe at least pretend we get along for whatever time I have left," he said.

"You won't believe me, but I am sorry you're sick."

"You're right. I don't. I'm here for mom," he said. "You can call Holly for updates and maybe find someone to bring you out to the farm."

"I can drive but I appreciate the offer."

Holly was her brother's second wife. After they married, Dave moved out to the small farm she owned. He had planned to retire at fifty and live off their land, with a huge garden and a variety of animals. However, endless health issues denied him that dream.

"Whatever."

"Thank you for letting me know," she said, her mind racing with the fact that even though they didn't get along, she hadn't ever wished he would die.

Before she said more, he turned and left. The warmth of the sunshine disappeared. A cold breeze chilled her skin. The bench hadn't been able to repair their relationship and Dave didn't have much time left. Amber was strong. She would do as he asked and put their past behind her for as long as he had.

* * * *

Jimmy Drake ran down the sidewalk with the easy stride of a dedicated runner. A retired professional baseball player, he continued to maintain his athletic physique. Now an undercover police officer, he wandered through the park and along city streets in search of illegal activity. His current assignment included spotting drug deals at Jacob's Landing.

At the beginning of each shift, he studied reports and photographs of suspects. Then he left. He followed routes approved by the head of his department, alternating enough that he didn't look suspicious. When he wasn't portraying a runner, he dressed as a businessman or a construction worker. The changes helped him blend in with wherever he was at the time.

He loved his job and believed he was making a difference in the world. Having the ability to run while at work was a benefit few places offered. However, the summer heat wasn't easy to deal with. On his own, he ran early in the morning. At work, he wasn't always able to choose his hours. Stopping for a break, he bought a cold beverage at a small lemonade stand near the park entrance.

The only empty bench was next to a young woman. She glanced up at him when he walked past her but didn't speak. He noticed the tears on her cheeks yet didn't comment. He was, after all, a total stranger. Several minutes passed as he sipped his lemonade while watching the other people at the park. His observation skills were part of what made him so good at his job. He left to continue his shift, running back in the direction he came from.

The woman's obvious stress stuck with Jimmy. Knowing the odds of finding someone without any identifying information, he pushed her to the back of his mind. Yet each time he was at the park, he looked for her, hoping to see a smile on her face instead of tears. When his assignment changed to routine police work, he often spent his days at a desk behind a computer screen. One sunny afternoon, while on his lunch break, he walked to the park. There he spotted the woman who hadn't left his mind in weeks.

"Feeling better, I hope?" he asked, standing in front of her. Jimmy hadn't intended to scare the woman but saw the instant fear in her eyes. "Don't be afraid. I saw you here a while back and you looked really sad. I hope you're doing all right now."

Uncertain why the man stopped to check on her, she hesitated. Jimmy pulled his suit coat away to reveal the badge clipped to his belt.

"I'm one of the good guys. See, I'm a police officer," he said. "Mind if I sit?"

She slid to the edge of the bench to give him room. So many things ran through her head. What if he wasn't really a cop and was there to hurt her? How would she be able to escape or get help?

"Look, I really am sorry for scaring you. I didn't think and in my job, that's not a good thing. When I saw you before, I had been running, so I wasn't dressed like this. My name is Jimmy Drake. You can check with the office to verify--"

Something in the way he looked at her told her he wasn't lying. She pushed aside her fear and smiled.

"No, I believe you, and yes, I am doing better."

"That's great. I hope it wasn't anything serious that made you cry."

"My brother had been here to tell me he had cancer. We didn't ever get along, but hearing he was dying still hurt," she said.

"Death is terrible for everyone, but sometimes, I think it's worse for the ones left behind. We have to go on, to find a way to cope with the pain. There aren't any rules or directions on how we can fill the gap they leave in our lives. I think about that sometimes and pray I'll have time to tell the people I love how to put their sadness aside and go make the world better." Jimmy shook his head.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to go on like that. My nephew was only fifteen when he died. He collapsed on the football field. I was there and couldn't do a damn thing to save him. The doctors said it was his heart. He was more like a son to me than a nephew and wanted to be a cop some day."

Amber put her hand on his leg. "I'm sorry."

The warmth of her palm went straight to his heart. He wanted to hug her, to hold her hand in his even though he didn't know her name.

"I just realized something," she said after pulling her hand back.

He had already noticed she wasn't wearing a wedding ring. That meant nothing, though. Jimmy looked at her and waited for her to continue.

"My name. I didn't introduce myself. I'm Amber."

He smiled. "As much as I would love to spend my day sitting here with you, Amber, I have to get back to work. Here's my information. Call me, OK? Please?"

Amber took the small card he handed her. It wasn't fancy, just a few words identifying him as a member of the police force, his name, and a number. She took a chance.

"Wait."

She opened her purse and took out a note pad. Then she wrote her name on it and added her phone number. His eyes lit up when she gave it to him.

"In case you get busy or I call at a bad time. You can reach me instead."

"Thank you, Amber."

After he left, Amber shook her head. She hadn't ever been bold enough to offer someone her number the way she had with Jimmy.

"What have I done," she whispered. "He must think I'm desperate or something. I bet he won't call. How stupid..."

Amber was still trying to figure out why she handed a complete stranger a way to contact her when her phone rang. The sound startled her.

"Hello?"

"Are you free for dinner tonight?" Jimmy didn't hesitate saying what he wanted.

Amber smiled. Only a few minutes had passed since he left the park. She herself hadn't moved from the bench. She hadn't had time to process their short conversation. Nonetheless, she decided to go with her instincts and see what happened.

"I'm free tonight, yes."

"I can pick you up or if you're uncomfortable with that, you can meet me somewhere," he said. "What about that little place off Main Street where everyone claims they have the best pizza in town?"

"I know the place, but if you really don't mind, you can pick me up. My car is in the shop and I wouldn't want to walk home in the dark."

"Is seven too late? I'm stuck here until six."

"I'll be ready," she said.

"How about an address?" he asked.

Even though he could find her through his endless databases, doing so made him uncomfortable. He wanted to learn about her the way a normal couple would. He wrote down the address she gave him and ended the call.

That night, the bench where they sat looked ahead into their lives, foreseeing years of joy for the pair.

* * * *

Frank and Edith Ramsay had been regulars at the park even before it had been a popular spot. They had wandered along the channel, dreaming of spending their retirement on the water.

For the last few months, Frank had been alone, mourning the loss of his wife who passed away before they had a chance to travel. His thoughts went to their children. Randy was an accountant for the government. His wife was a lawyer. They took extravagant vacations all over the world--except back home to see Frank. His daughter Susan and her live-in partner were both pharmacists who also traveled often, mostly to Hawaii and Italy. Seldom did either couple inform him of their plans.

Frank thought back to a conversation he had with his son when he returned home for Edith's funeral. He accused his father of waiting too long to retire instead of traveling to some of the places his mother dreamed of going. Susan agreed with her brother. Of course, they were both aware of how much their parents paid toward their college educations, and although they both had excellent jobs, they hadn't offered to pay any of it back. The money Frank intended for retirement was gone before his wife was.

He wondered what caused them to become so selfish. Edith hadn't been that way. She spent hours volunteering to help the less fortunate. Her garden produced enough vegetables each year to share with struggling families.

Laughter captured his attention. Two young boys ran to the railing where several ducks waited for their next meal. He smiled as they tore apart slices of bread and dropped them into the water.

"Mama, look at all the babies!"

"Can we come back some time to feed them again?"

"We'll see," she replied.

"Hey, mister, did you feed the ducks?"

Frank faced the small boy standing a few feet away from him. "Not today. I wanted them to be good and hungry for when you got here."

Both boys grinned and went back to the railing. The non-stop chatter reminded Frank of how seldom he heard anyone talking. He brushed his sleeve across his eyes to catch the tears gathering there. When his Edith was alive, they spent time with friends and neighbors. Since her death, they stopped inviting him, and rarely called.

After the young boys moved on, Frank stood, slowly making his way to the place he called home. He unlocked the door and dropped his keys on the counter. He was tired. The cost of insurance made him decide to sell the expensive car he had. Walking was difficult with his arthritic joints. His only option was to use the city bus service, which only ran limited hours each day. Bypassing the refrigerator, he sat in his old recliner. With Edith gone, he wondered if it was time to sell the family home and find something smaller.

All through the evening, he thought of his years with his wife. It hadn't occurred to him that Edith would be the first to go. She made living a joy. He only existed without her. This time when the tears filled his eyes, he didn't stop them.

Frank didn't go back to Jacob's Landing for quite some time. He needed to process his wife's death in his own way. The benches would watch for him and do their best to lead him to a happier life.

"Sometimes, living can be so unbearably lonely."

* * * *

Frank returned to the park several months later with a clearer head than before. He knew Edith would want him to continue living without giving up. It wasn't easy but he slowly went back to enjoying simple activities he participated in while she was alive. He renewed his library card and made a point to read each day. He shopped for affordable vehicle insurance and bought a used mid-sized car in decent condition. Instead of skipping meals, he prepared something each day, which meant he needed to make weekly trips to the grocery store.

Enjoying the sunshine one afternoon, he noticed an elderly man two benches away from where he sat. Although he didn't know him, he decided to at least acknowledge him with a friendly greeting.

"Nice day, isn't it?"

"Would have been better if my team won last night," the man said.

Frank chuckled. The play-offs were the talk of the town. For the first time in years, their state team was on the way to winning the title.

"Eh, some games are better than others."

"They lose again and they'll be out of the running," the stranger said.

The men continued their generic chat of sports until it began to rain. Then they nodded and turned toward their cars. Although they hadn't introduced themselves, they had discovered a shared interest in sports.

"Coming back tomorrow?" Frank asked.

"That's the plan."

They didn't always make it to the park on the same days, or at the same times, but when they did, they talked about sports or the weather, much as if they had known each other for years. Frank was sure his late wife would approve of how much better he felt about life.

Sam Frost enjoyed his time at the park. Even without knowing the man's name, their back and forth sparring was a highlight to his days. Once home again, the silent rooms depressed him. Losing his wife after forty-eight years of marriage left a void in his heart--and his house.

Alone for three years, he finally took a step toward moving past her death and living again. Going to the park was a start. Lois had loved the water. Without her, he hadn't been sure about seeing it again. Yet each day he sat on one of the benches, he found a little more of the ice around his heart had melted.

The following day, he once again chatted with the stranger. With more people at the park, they ended up on a bench next to each other.

"You from around here?" Sam asked.

"Lived here a while. You?"

"All my life."

The men nodded. Neither of them had ever been very talkative and that hadn't changed when their wives passed away. For the remainder of their time at the park that day, they debated the upcoming elections. They left after a few hours, going to their respective lonely homes.

Frank hadn't been at the park for over a month. Sam still didn't know much about the man but certainly missed his company. With the end of summer approaching, the cooler temperatures of fall and winter wouldn't do well with his arthritis. Hoping for the best, he prepared himself for the worst. Losing someone to talk to might not seem like a big deal, but for him, the conversations brought light into his dark world.

Then Frank was back, sitting on one of the benches where the fall sun warmed him. Sam saw him as soon as he reached the sidewalk. Seeing several empty benches nearby, he didn't hurry, sure there would be a spot for him. However, the swarm of children surprised him. They filled the benches, barely leaving space for the adults with them. He continued walking, stopping by Frank.

"Have a seat," Frank said, patting the extra space next to him.

Sam smiled. They sat in silence for several minutes. Eventually, Frank spoke.

"That flu damn near buried me," he said.

"Didn't you get the shot?

"Doctor said it was a different strain than what the shot was for. They sent a girl out to do the cleaning and even cook for me. Not like having my wife there, but it sure helped."

Sam nodded. If he had been sick and needed help, it wouldn't have been anything like having his wife back either.

"Doctor recommended I keep the help. Not sure what I think about it, but I told him I would give it a try," Frank said.

"I thought about doing that, too. My house is way too big for me to keep up on all the cleaning. Some days, I think it might even be best if I sold the place. It's full of memories, but they won't go away. They're inside me, safe, where I can take them out whenever I want to."

"My kids told me to sell mine too but I think they just want some of their inheritance now. The manager in charge of my case is going to bring me to see some of the places where I could live. At times, I wonder if I'm ready for a move. Then the next minute, I see all the wasted space in the house and... it's just too much anymore," Frank said.

The men understood each other. Large homes were perfect for families. It hurt to live in them alone.

"Maybe I should check out some of those places too."

"You can go with us. Maybe... we can find a nice place that would work for both of us."

Sam smiled. It felt good to have someone understand what he went through each day without his wife. "I'd like that." He hadn't ever visited a senior facility so didn't have any idea what to expect.

"She's coming tomorrow, at ten. She can stop for you too."

"Thanks. I think it's time to find somewhere that offers life and joy. My house has been sad for too long."

Frank knew exactly what the man meant. Since his wife died, nothing was the same. Everywhere he looked, he felt the emptiness.

"I guess you might need to give me your address," Frank said.

Sam tore off a piece of the newspaper he held and scrawled the information on it. Before passing it to the man at his side, he held out his hand.

"Name's Sam Frost," he said.

Frank chuckled. He hadn't thought to introduce himself either. The men talked often enough it was if they knew each other. "Frank Ramsay."

"Thank you, for the offer to go along. I'm looking forward to seeing what's available."

"Yep, it's time."

The men parted, Frank with Sam's address tucked into his wallet. It would be nice having someone his age to look at the senior places with. He slept that night better than he had in months. Life wouldn't ever be the same as it had been but they had each finally made peace with the losses of their wives.

* * * *

The stories continued as the seasons changed. Visitors, old and young, wandered through the park, some sitting to think, others just there to relax. Over time, more benches appeared, each with its' own power, extremely proud of what they did... because they were, after all, just pieces of wood bolted together to form seats.