by Don Childers
“Well I had thought about staying somewhere. I thought I might ask to stay with Sam and Juanita.”
“Well, I would be honored if you would stay here tonight. I have a room at the back of the house. It has its own bathroom and everything. I would consider it an honor if you would stay here.”
Bill just could not believe what he was hearing. Was this the same Emily who had tried to get rid of him only a few months ago?
“I would be honored to stay,” Bill said.
Bill wondered if he had lost his mind. He would be trapped for an evening with Emily. Was this the smartest or stupidest thing he had ever done? After all the guests had left, Emily put on a pot of coffee and told Bill he could put his things in the room and make himself comfortable. Bill went out to his car and took his overnight bag. The room was nicely decorated with a big four-poster bed, nightstand, and dresser.
“Was that your daughter’s old room?” Bill asked as he came back into the living room.
“Yes it was. We keep it now for her and her husband and the grandchildren when they come here.”
“Grandchildren? I have only seen Carrie a couple of times and never with grandchildren,” Bill said.
“Oh yes, I have five grandchildren,” Emily exclaimed. Then she paused and said that Carrie and her son-in-law did not really like church so they visited during the week, seldom on the weekends.
“That must be why I haven’t seen them much before today,” Bill said. Emily got up and poured them both cups of coffee.
“Do you want to see their pictures?” Emily said already carrying in two large picture albums.
“I would love to,” Bill said and sat down beside Emily and began looking through the albums. At each picture Emily told about the circumstances, where they were and why they took the picture. Bill, as he looked through the album, was seeing a whole new side of Emily. As the talked he found out that she once had a dream of being a professional piano player, maybe even playing for a symphony.
“What happened?” Bill asked.
“Oh, girls did not have careers. It was hard times and well I had to get a job. We lived in Dallas at the time and me and Buddy met at a church social. He was from here and always wanted to return. Well, Buddy was pretty traditional, as you know. When we got married he said I should put all those silly ideas aside. He would support us and I was to raise the kids. We only had one girl even though we tried and tried.” Emily paused and her eyes were teary again. “We did lose two children at birth. Buddy never was the same after that. One of them was a boy.”
“I am sorry,” Bill replied beginning to understand that underneath the roughness of Emily was a lot of pain.
“Oh, my, my,” she said, “I am going on and on. You must be tired.”
“No, No, go on,” Bill said. He was tired but here he was and Emily was actually sharing with him. He was feeling like a real minister. It was a good feeling.
“Well, Buddy was a good husband,” Emily said again.
“A good husband?” Bill replied giving the last sound a little uplift giving Emily a chance to add to her thought.
“Yes, he was a good husband and I will miss him.” Emily paused for a moment. Bill sensed she was thinking about if she should say any more. Surprisingly she did.
“Well, Buddy wasn’t perfect, you know. You don’t live together all these years and don’t have your spats and such.” Bill leaned back a little. Maybe this was a little too much sharing. Should he go on to bed or encourage her? His answer came a moment later when Emily just continued.
“Like that damn truck of his!” she said with a twinge of anger. “He never let me drive. In fact he never even would let me learn to drive.”
“You don’t know how to drive?” Bill asked.
“No, Buddy always did the driving.”
“How did you get to Dallas when—err—when Buddy was so sick?” Bill said.
“Sam took me. We followed the ambulance and then Carrie drove me around.” Then after another pause, “My friends think I am crazy but I want to learn to drive. I am sixty-five years old and I think it is high time I learn to be more independent. They keep telling me that I am too old, over the hill.”
“Emily I don’t think you are too old to learn new things. God, I hope I am never too old to learn new things.” Bill thought for a moment and then blurted out, “Emily, I will teach you how to drive. We can go out after church tomorrow, take the truck and I will teach you.”
“You will?” Emily said, a smile forming on her face that seemed to have taken on a whole new brightness. “Bill, I really appreciate you. You are a real peach. Some gal is going to have a real steal when she finds you.”
“Well so far that isn’t happening.” Now they were into territory that Bill was sensitive about. He was beginning to wonder if he would ever meet someone. He had dated some while in seminary but when he called again, he just got excuses. Dave had a girlfriend. Even Chris had a girlfriend. Paul was married to a wonderful woman. Even his sister had a boyfriend. Not him.
The tables seemed to turn and now it was Emily listening.
“Honey,” she said and Bill was surprised by the word. “You just have to be patient. I was older when I met Buddy. You just have to be patient. You will meet the right person and when you do you will know it.” Emily just smiled at Bill.
“Well, I am not your mother,” Emily said getting up, “but it is late and you need to get some sleep or I will get in trouble tomorrow for keeping the preacher up too late.”
In his room, Bill sat on the edge of the bed. What a mystery God was. Here an enemy was now a friend. As Bill went to sleep that night he dreamed a strange dream. He dreamed of a beautiful, dark-haired young woman. He dreamed that they met and fell in love. He dreamed that the love of his life was not far away.
-34-
The next day after church, Bill took Emily out to a West Texas field in Buddy’s old Ford pickup truck. As they lurched around the field, gears grinding, Bill began to think that ol’ Buddy knew something. Emily was a pretty good piano player but driving was definitely not her talent.
Over the next several weeks Bill continued the lessons. Emily improved even to the point that they went out for a ride on the side road. She told him that all her friends were telling her she was crazy. Bill kept reassuring her.
One Sunday after church, Bill noted that Emily seemed really down.
“Is something wrong?” Bill inquired as they were walking out of church. Bill was now a regular guest at Emily’s home when he came up on weekends. He actually liked his room because unlike some of the other places he stayed, Emily respected his privacy.
“I failed the test,” Emily finally said.
“What test?”
“Oh, I took the written test last week and failed. All my friends say that they told me so. I guess it is not in it for me to drive.”
“Emily, just take it again.”
“I am too old. What was I thinking?”
“Emily,” Bill said turning toward her. “Now, you don’t need me telling you about life, but here goes. You know that we all fail sometimes, we fall down and we have to pick ourselves up. You are not too old to learn something new. Just walk right in and take that old test again and keep taking it until you pass.”
“You think so?” Emily said with a sign of hope in her voice.
“I will help you practice. I can shoot the questions to you and give me the answers. Just like studying for a math test or something.”
So for the next two weeks Bill quizzed Emily, trying to get her ready for the driver’s test.
One day, Dave answered the phone at their apartment. He went into Bill’s room and slowly opened the door. Bill was seated at the desk, studying.
“Heh, there is someone on the phone for you. I think it is that Emily person you have told me about.”
Bill got up and rushed past Dave to the phone. “Crap, I bet she failed her test again.” He picked up the phone and heard an excited voice on the o
ther end.
“Bill, I just had to let you know. I passed!!”
“You passed?”
“I passed and not only that, I took the driving test and passed that. I have a license.”
Bill actually could not believe what he was hearing. Even with all his encouragement, on one level he believed that she probably would not get her license.
“Congratulations!” Bill said feeling very satisfied himself.
The next Sunday, Emily drove up to the church in a new Ford; not a pickup, but a real four-door car. All her friends were saying that they could not believe that this was the same Emily. In the weeks following, Emily redecorated the kitchen, redecorated the living room, bought new clothes and even began taking piano lessons.
Emily and Bill became close friends. When Bill would finally meet the girl of his dreams, Sharon, Emily would be the first person he told of their engagement. She would play at their wedding and was there for their first child. When Emily died it was Bill that the family flew in to do the funeral.
-35-
During the August break, Bill traveled back to Eugene to visit his family. His father seemed to have rallied from the treatment but the prognosis was still not good. It was hot and humid in Eugene when he arrived. Julie met him at the airport.
As they drove to the house, Julie filled Bill in.
“Dad has had a rough time. They have tried a couple of treatments but they have not really worked. The cancer has spread.”
Bill could feel his stomach knot up as they drove along.
“When I spoke with Mom,” Bill said, “She has been saying everything is getting better. She said Dad was back to work.”
“Yeah,” Julie said glancing at Bill and at the road. “He’s not working full time. The company is working with him. He is just getting weaker. I think he and Mom are both are in denial, but who can blame them.”
Julie pulled into the driveway. There, waiting for Bill was his father, mother and Nicole. As Bill got out of the car, his father was the first one to reach him and gave him a big hug. Milt had lost a lot of weight and looked much weaker. Part of the difference was that his hair was gone, even though he did not have much to begin with. His muscular arms were not as big as before. But the one thing that Bill noted was that his Dad’s eyes were bright and full of fight.
Joyce had prepared all of Bill’s favorites for dinner. Her pork chops were to die for. They feasted on pork chops, little potatoes with lots of butter, green beans with mushroom soup, and homemade rolls. For desert they had apple pie with ice cream. Nicole proudly announced that she had baked the pie.
After dinner, Bill and his father went into the backyard to share a beer.
“Everything going well at school?” Milt said.
“Yep. I am really enjoying my studies, but I am really enjoying my church.” Bill then told his dad about Emily, Sam, and Mary Pond. He got so involved in telling about school and church that he almost forgot that his dad was sick. Finally, the little voice in his head finally overruled his conversation.
“Dad, how are you doing?”
Milt paused and looked out over the backyard fence. The Coburg Hills could be seen in the distance. “Not well,” his dad said.
“What do you mean, Dad?”
“Well, for now I am really feeling pretty good. But the doctor said that it will be a real tough battle and the odds are not with me. You may not know it, I never talked about it much, but I have faced death before.” Bill leaned closer to his dad as Milt continued. Many years ago I was in a bad accident. I was trapped in a car for some time. I thought I was going to die in those moments. It wasn’t really all that bad.”
“What happened?” Bill said.
“Well, I obviously survived. I got out, spent some time in a hospital, and pretty much recovered. But I decided at that moment that I was going to live life and whatever came my way I would keep my head up.”
Bill just sat and looked at his father. He had never seen this side of his father. Milt continued, “Anyway I have been here before. I am not ready to give up. Milt paused for a moment and then his voice picked up, “Heh, let’s see if there is a game on.”
That was the last that they talked. The rest of the visit was an effort to act like everything was going to be fine. Bill had never prayed as hard as he did that week. Yet, deep inside he seemed to realize that this battle was not going to be won. When he said his goodbye to his father, they hugged and shook hands, his father almost refusing to let go. Somehow Bill got the impression his dad was saying goodbye for good.
-36-
In the fall, Bill had signed up for a course working with the poor of Fort Worth. The pastoral care professor, Dr. Charles and a local African American pastor, Dr. Simpson, taught the course. Each Monday, the small group of students would work as chaplains in nursing homes that had primarily poor persons as residents. Then in the afternoon the students would debrief at Dr. Simpson’s congregation. For Bill it was an eye-opening experience.
One Monday he was asked to call on Emma. Emma was in her late sixties but looked as if she was in her late seventies. She was a small, frail African American woman whose entire world now consisted of her bed, small nightstand, and chair. When Bill arrived she was sitting up, propped up by pillows. Her roommate was snoring away in the adjacent bed.
“Good morning,” Bill said as he slowly entered the room, looked around, and tried to adjust to the prevailing odor present throughout the nursing home.
Bill continued as Emma looked up at him and smiled. “I am Bill Thompson. I am a student at the seminary and we are working at this nursing home as chaplains. I just wanted to stop by and visit with you for a moment.”
Emma looked up and lightly smacked her lips, “My, my, you are a tall boy!”
“Not really,” Bill said. “But thank you for the compliment.”
Emma just looked at him and smiled. Bill at this point was beginning to get nervous. “May I sit down?” he asked.
“Sure, child,” Emma said and just looked at him and continued smiling.
“Well,” Bill said fumbling for words. “How are you?”
“Jus’ fine.”
“Is the food good here?”
“Jus’ fine.”
“Do you get out much?”
“Not much, but it is jus’ fine.”
The minutes seemed to drag by. When Bill glanced down at his watch an entire four minutes had passed. It seemed like an hour. Rising from his chair, Bill said, “Well, it has been a pleasure talking with you. I have some other visits to make. Do you mind if we pray together?”
‘That would be jus’ fine,” Emma said and automatically closed her eyes and bowed her head. Bill noted that she did not offer him her hand and he decided not to reach out for it. Bill said a short prayer and left.
Next, Bill stopped by an African American man who was sitting in a wheelchair. Both of his legs had been amputated.
“Hi,” the man said pushing himself over toward Bill. “Are you one of those Reverends that I hear is out calling today?”
“Yes,” Bill said and sat down by the man.
“My name is Phil, short for Phillip. He was one of the disciples, I think.”
“Nice to meet you, “Bill replied. “How long have you been here?”
“Oh, for years. Too long,” Phil said. “So you are a student?”
“Yes, at the seminary,” Bill replied.
“That Baptist school?” Phil asked.
“No the other one,” Bill replied.
They sat in silence for a few seconds then Bill asked, “What did you do, err, I mean before you got in here?”
“I used to be a hobo,” Phil said with a note of pride.
“Oh really?” Bill replied genuinely curious.
“Yep, I rode the rails during the 40’s and 50’s. Started during the depression years. Do you know what a hobo is, young man?”
“Well, I don’t think I do,” Bill replied. Actually, he had an idea but this was pro
ving to be a better conversation than what he had with Emma.
“Well, let me tell you,” Phil said. Bill noticed that Phil’s English was actually quite good. He suspected that Phil was more than he let on.
“A hobo is different from a bum. I was a hobo. We hobo’s worked for a living; we just didn’t hang around for very long. Got that itch to move on. A bum doesn’t want to work and is just looking for a handout.”
“Guess I did not know the difference.” Bill interrupted. “Go on, were you always a hobo?”
“Well, actually, I finished all the way through eleventh grade. I did some teaching and then worked in a factory back east for a while. Then the depression really got goin’ and I was laid off. I couldn’t find a job, so I hit the rails. After the depression was over I just found out that I liked the life of a hobo. I liked to read, so I could read all I wanted, work a little and then move on.” The more Phil talked the more he seemed to want to share. “As a hobo, we had a whole code among us. You pulled into an area and you could read the messages left and find out if there was work, if they were friendly, and if there were not too many bums, and if the local law was open to us. If not, you just moved on.”
“Fascinating,” Bill added.
“Yep, and you had to be familiar with all the trains, schedules and such. You had to know which ones were long-distance haulers and which ones stopped at every little village and town. It was hard but I loved it. I made a lot of friends along the way.”
“Were you hungry?” Bill inquired.
“Sure, you get used to that. But among us hobos we shared what we had so you never starved. We had something called ‘hobo stew” that I still miss. This crap here is awful. By the way, I am a little short today. I am pretty thirsty. Could really use a Coke.”
At first Bill tensed. He was being panhandled. What should he do? Should he give in or resist? Phil might have been good at this at one time but he was pretty transparent now. What the heck, Bill thought, it is only a quarter.
“Sure, here,” Bill said reaching into his pocket and giving Phil a quarter. Phil had a big smile on his face. He had that smile as he quickly rolled his wheelchair to where some buddies were seated after Bill left.