The Harland Highway - GARDEN HOSE STORY PART 4

Episode Date: October 11, 2016

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As the sun was setting, Brett wandered through the streets of his neighborhood. He couldn't remember the last time he had taken a walk that it stended past the length of his own driveway. It actually felt good to see other people, other houses, gardens, swing sets, children laughing, playing tag in the streets. Brett was disappointed in himself for not making more of an effort, not just in his wife and children's lives, but in his own. How pathetic that he had never even walked around his own block. After about an hour, the sky was a wash of pink and violet. The slow summer sunset painted the canvas of the sky and seemed to slow down time. A slight haze hung in the air, pierced only by the sharp sting of the odd cicada calling to one another.

Brett needed this. He needed to clear his head. hands in his pockets meandering aimlessly through the neighborhood streets as he rounded a corner there was some children playing on a front lawn dancing and jumping around trying to avoid being hit by an older brother that was quite intently trying to soak them with the garden hose as brett walked closer he could actually smell the scent of the wet water on the grass the aroma of water seeping into the porous surface of the sunbake sidewalk suddenly he was thirsty again. But before he could turn around and head back towards home, a long stream of water

splashed right across his chest and face. The boy manning the hose wasn't aware of Brett's approach and in his carelessness hit Brett with a direct hit of hose water that was clearly meant for one of the younger kids trying so hard to avoid him on the lawn. Hey, Brett yelled, a reflex more than an intended verbalization. Upon hearing Brett's cry, all of the other children stopped at once. They all froze on the grass, including the boy holding the hose. Splashing an adult was not supposed to be part of the game. Before Brett could take another step, all the children dispersed, like cockroaches when you turn on a light in a darkened room. Brett tried to quell their fears. He wasn't angry, but there was no one left to convey that to. The jittery kids had vanished like a

puff of smoke, and all that remained was the garden hose sprawled across the lawn, pumping endless gushes of water out onto the sidewalk. Brett tried once more to yell to them. Hey, kids, I'm all right. I'm not mad, honest. But it was in vain. The children were long gone. And as the stream of water from the hose forged its way down the sidewalk, it wasn't long until a shallow puddle was forming around Brett's feet. Like a good neighbor, he laughed to himself like he had ever been one. He picked up the hose and began to follow it up the lawn so that he could turn it off at the tap.

As he neared the wall of the house, he could see a thin spurt of water escaping from the seal between the hose and the tap. He wondered in that moment, does that little spray thingy happen to everyone? As he reached for the tap, he suddenly became instantly aware that he, once more,

for the fourth time in two days, had a running water hose in his hands. This made him somewhat suspicious, but of what he couldn't seem to determine. As he held the hose in his hand, he hesitated about turning it off. He knew that there was a possibility that what was in his hand was far more

than a 25-foot length of rubber tubing used to irrigate grass. He was now reluctantly aware that what was in his hand was quite possibly a time machine. into his past. Brett looked around to see if any of the neighbors were watching. The street seemed eerily empty and vacant of any activity.

He looked back at the house to where the hose was anchored and upon seeing there wasn't a soul in sight, he apprehensively, perhaps even guiltily, brought the hose to his mouth and started to drink. Tommy straight in the front of Brett's tuxedo and brushed a small white piece of fluff off of his shoulder. Man, how long does it take those chicks to pee? Jesus, Tommy huffed. Tanya Reese, buddy. I can't believe you got Tanya Reese to go to prom with you.

Tommy smiled proudly. Hey, I got the fucking goods, man, okay? They laughed and hug generously as more and more of the graduating class members filed into the dimly lit gym. Did you see who Debbie Newman is here with? Todd fucking Applebaum, the guy we all thought was gay. What? Brett said with sincere astonishment in his voice. Wow, he fooled us all, man. Tommy shook his head disappointed in his own ability to recognize he wasn't good at picking off the gay guys in his school.

Brett surveyed the decorations in the gym, obligatory disco ball hanging over the center court, streamers draped everywhere, ribbons and balloons hovering over the stage, were a large banner that read Into the Future, Class of 81, stretched from one side to the other. Wow, we did it, Tommy. We made it through high school, buddy. I guess the real world starts now, huh? Brett didn't wait for Tommy to answer. He was still taking in the gym that was now a poor man's ballroom. There were couples everywhere, laughing, holding hands, nervous and excited, all at the same time.

music drifted through the high ceiling and bounced off the echoy walls. The band was just finishing up their best rendition of Forget About Me by Simple Minds. Brett nodded his head and smiled. This felt good. This felt right. Hey, here they come, buddy. Brett's private moment was interrupted by Tommy hitting him on the arm

and diverting his attention to the opposite side of the gym. It was Kelly and Tanya, arm and arm. giggling as they weaved through the scattered couples dancing in the middle of the floor. Damn, look at those jugs, man. Fucking monsters! Tommy couldn't hide his adoration for Tanya's ample breasts, which were barely contained by her low-cut white prom dress. Come on, Tommy, show a little class for once, will you?

Ha! Brett pushed the side of Tommy's head as he walked away and made a beeline across the gym floor towards Sherry. Tommy shrugged it off. and waved in the air to Tanya, motioning her to come over to where he stood. Tanya took her cue obediently and broke away from Sherry, running over to Tommy in his happy smile.

Brett intercepted Sherry in the middle of the dance floor, sliding up to her and grabbing her hands. Uh, can I have the next dance, or are you here with someone? Brett tried his best not to laugh. Shut up, stupid, that is so dumb. Anya smiled and hit Brett lightly on the chest with her yellow corsage. He responded by pulling her close and wrapping one of his arms around the back of her waist. Almost as if they had planned it, the band started playing again.

A beautiful slow song called True by Spandau Ballet. The whole gym seemed to suddenly get a bit quieter and hundreds of inexperienced adolescents switched gears into an I love you mode. Brett pulled sherry and tight, their pelvis and abdomens pressed together, their faces just inches apart. The song was perfect for the moment, soft, romantic, and lyrics to be enchanted by. And although it permeated the air for everyone to hear, somehow it seemed to be playing just for them. Slowly they began to drift around in soft rhythmic circles, chased by the reflecting dots of colored. light from the disco ball. They stared into each other's eyes intensely, powerfully, as if in each other

they saw their futures. You look beautiful tonight, Shelly, Brett said awkwardly but sincerely. Shelly shifted her gaze to the ground for a moment, unsure of how to take his compliment. She bit her bottom lip nervously the way she did and turned back to him. Somewhere inside, she found some spontaneous courage. What's going to happen to us, Brett? I mean, when school's over, when everything ends. Brett detected a slight sadness in her voice as he continued to slowly swirl in a circle. It's not going to end, Shelly.

It's just the beginning, Brett smiled reassuringly. I'm scared, Brett. What if? Brett gently silenced her. He plucked a tiny white, rose from her gorsage and held it in his fingers. No matter what happens, for the rest of my life, on this exact day, I'm going to give you a white rose, just like this, one every year. Brett held it up so that it brushed her jawline just below the corner of her mouth. She could feel its velvety caress. She could feel so many

unspoken words swirling in the air around them. Shelly stared deep into his eyes. perhaps beyond them and into his soul. Her gaze was overflowing with fear and uncertainty. She wanted him so much. She needed him. Why, Brett? She asked so softly. It was almost undetectable.

Why a white rose every year? Brett stared at her, an ever so slight smile creeping across his lips. So you'll always remember that I love you, Shelly. That's why. Shelly felt her heart. heart contract and then expand all in the same instant. Her eyes widened and her temperature rose a degree. She felt the love for Brett that was nothing short of transcending.

Brett put his other hand up on her cheek and as the Spandau ballet continued serenading them, he pulled their face to his and they kissed like they were the glue holding the universe together. Now the room itself seemed to be spinning with them. The lights, the music, the balloons, the banners, until suddenly the moment was compromised when an old weather hand tapped Brett aggressively on the shoulder. Excuse me, excuse me, young man. Brett turned to see an old man with white hair and weathered wrinkles staring into Brett's face with agitation. Do I know you? You live around here? Brett shook his head and lowered the spewing hose that was close to his mouth. He was back in the real world again, standing on the lawn where the kids have been playing.

Oh, yes, I live three streets over on Palmdale. I'm so sorry I was out for a walk and I got terribly thirsty. I saw your hose. I hope you don't mind. No, take all you want. It's not my water. Belongs to the city. The old man was jovial and warm. Brett instantly relaxed and lowered his guard. Yeah, I guess it is.

By the way, I saw your kids playing here. Nice to see him play. playing with the hose instead of a cell phone for once. Ah, those brats aren't mine. It's the Doddington kids from up the street. Troublemakers is what they are. And with that, the old man turned off the hose and turned and walked away from Brett.

Brett stood there for a moment a little unsure of what to do, but then shrugged it off and smiled. In his head, he thought to himself, crazy old bastard. Brett turned himself round, made his way to the sidewalk, walk and calmly walked away. By the time Brett got home, Sherry was in her pajamas and the kids were already in bed. There was a cloud of vulnerability hanging in the air. Brett had said things and shown emotions that he normally didn't display. He was uncomfortable in his own home and Sherry could sense it as she greeted him at the front door. How was your walk, baby? You okay? Visibly

drained of emotion, Brett nodded his head. Yeah, I just want to lay down. Sherry leaned into his chest and made herself small. Yeah, me too. Let's go to bed. She muzzled him with her body just a moment longer and then ascended the stairs. Brett followed a few steps behind until they landed on the upstairs hallway. As they stepped quietly past the children's bedroom door, Brett stopped.

He pondered. Hey, go ahead without me. I'll be just a minute. Sherry looked at him, confused. Brett had never entered the kids' room once they had been put to sleep. She wasn't going to fight about it. Okay, Sherry cracked a slight smile of approval and turned down the hallway towards their bedroom. Brett hesitated at the kid's door, I'm sure of why he stopped. After a moment, he gently pushed the door open and stepped inside his son and daughter. his bedroom. He was immediately immersed in their scent. The smell of his own children permeated the room. It was soft and fresh, almost like laundry detergent, he thought to himself. Careful not to step on any of the toys littering the floor. Brett's eyes strained in the darkness to maneuver to his son's bedside. Carefully, he sat down on the small bed, his weight squeezing the child-sized mattress down to the bed frame. Nathan's body jostled slightly,

but he remained in his childlike sleep, deep, innocent. His body splayed across the bed, half of them in the blankets and the other half exposed. Brett sat in the silence, Kelly's bed just a few feet over, her little arms wrapped around her Queen Bee plush toy.

Brett reached out and moved a wisp of Nathan's hair off his face. In the dim, Brett could see the tiny features of Nathan's face, his little nose, mouth, smooth, youthful skin. Brett wondered what the world held for his wonderful little son, where life would take him. Slowly, Brett moved his hand down to Nathan's chest, placing his large adult hand over Nathan's tiny chest plate and ribs. He could feel his son's heartbeat thumping slowly against the palm of his head. hand. It felt good. It felt like life itself. Brett sat there for several moments, his mind full of thoughts, but none more prominent than asking himself why. Why he had never come into his children's room before this night and spent time with them. Sat close to them in their little

beds and felt their warmth, their essence. But before that, and other questions could be answered, Nathan suddenly stirred. His head turned and faced Brett, his eyes creeping open sleepishly, staring right up at his father. Brett froze, locked up in shock, never expecting that his son would ever have known he was there. Without a moment's hesitation,

Nathan sluggishly sat up and wrapped his short arms as best he could around his father. He nestled his head into Brett's chest and in a sleepy little child's voice half-whispered, You're my daddy. Brett was speechless. He didn't know how to react. The rush of unbridled love that poured through his body was immeasurable.

He didn't know the love he had for his child could be so strong. Until, of course, he suddenly felt two smaller arms wrap around his waist. Kelly had exited her bed and found him in the dark. She pulled herself up onto Nathan's, bed and almost half asleep laid her body against her brothers while still maintaining her grip on Brett. After staring up at her dad for a moment, she reached up, her little fingers stretching to touch her father's chin. Me and Queen Bee love you, Daddy, she said with the tired voice of an angel. Brett gasped a stifle breath and stared down into her round, probing six-year-old eyes. She stared back

him with unfiltered love and adoration, unaware that hate even existed in the world at her tender age. Brett gently placed his free hand on her forehead, whereupon she closed her eyes and almost instantly faded back into sleep. Brett felt like maybe this is what heaven was like. He sat in the darkness with his children, touching them, holding them, a tear sliding down his cheek. Brett decided in that moment that this was his reality, that this was the real world, that Kelly, Nathan, and Shelley were his real life. This is where he belonged. There would be no more trips to the water hose.

In fact, in this incredible moment with his kids, he even questioned if any of the water hose moments were real. If maybe he was just overstressed, perhaps entering a midlife crisis he had been told he would have most of his adult life. No, this was real. This is where he belonged. The water hose was a manifestation of his subconscious. He loved his family, his children, his wife. Whatever they were going through would pass. They would be fine. He just knew it. He was wrong.