You know the drill. I open a book to a random page and then, without looking, point to the page. The word or words closest to the pointing finger will be the prompt. Today I opened Eternal Road to page 111. There are two words under my finger; wine and crackers. So let’s go with those.
Wine/Crackers by John W. Howell © 2023
The old man sits on the bench and uses his two hands on the cane to hold himself upright. Tired would not even come close to describing how he is feeling. The years of work and worry have evaporated any remaining moisture of youth. The cane shakes in response to the hands upon it. His interest in continuing another day is about the same as taking a ten-mile walk home. He might like to do it, but the effort seems overwhelming right now. He wishes he could remember how he got to this bench, but like most of the fog of his days, the mystery is not worth taking time to solve.
Squinting to avoid the sun’s glare, he sees a group of men ambling up the middle of the street, raising small dust clouds with each step. He thinks maybe they will be able to help him get back to his house. He wants to wait until they draw closer since his old man’s voice sounds like a cracking whisper. Repeating what he says has become an annoyance and another drain on what little resources he has left.
The men are abreast of his position, and he calls out, “Hey can anyone help me?” The men stop and look in his direction. One pulls away from the group and approaches the old man. “What’s the matter, pops? Lose your wine and crackers?” The others chuckle and shift on their feet.
“When I was your age, I had a little more respect for old people.”
“Aw, pops, I meant no disrespect. I’m sorry. What can I do to help you?”
The old man explains that he doesn’t know how he got on this bench and would like to go home but has no way to get there. The young man uses his thumb and pushes his wide-brim hat back on his head. “You have any family?”
“I think I used to, but I can’t rightly tell you if they are still around. I live alone.”
“I see. Well, we will be glad to help, but we have a job to do first. Are you going to be okay until we get back? Shouldn’t take more than a half hour.”
“Mighty obliged to you. Yes, I can wait a half hour.”
“Alright then. You stay here in the shade, and we’ll be going over to that corral there to arrest some rustlers.”
“You a lawman?”
“Yup, I’m the marshall hereabouts. Name’s Earp. Wyatt Earp. Them’s my deputies.”
“Pleased to meet you, Wyatt. I’ll be right here awaitin’.”
“Good for you, pops. Don’t you worry; everything’s going to be alright.”
“Bless you, son.”
