Emerald Eyes
The new resident arrived at the nursing home, but John didn't notice. He was deep in thought, in another time, a time so many years ago. What was her name, that young girl, the one with the auburn hair and emerald eyes? It was those eyes that had attracted his attention.
John was eighteen years old, fresh out of high school and just starting his first job. It wasn't a job he had planned on doing for very long, just long enough to earn the money to buy that old sports car he had seen in the newspaper, the one with the red racing stripe. You see, John wanted to be a racecar driver, and if he bought that sports car he could enter it into the competitions that were held on the weekends. Yes, those weekends he remembered well. He had worked hard at that job and had finally earned enough money to buy his car. Now he spent every weekend at the racetrack.
He remembered his very first race, well, maybe not, but he did remember her. He was lined up and ready for his first drag race. He had revved the engine and heated the tires and was ready to go. The flag was held in position, ready to be waved frantically so the race could begin. Then he saw the one who was holding the flag. She was beautiful, no, more than beautiful. She was radiant, gorgeous, with auburn hair and those eyes!! Those wonderful, dreamy, emerald eyes! Well, that was the end of that race. The flag was waved, but John just sat there. He was unaware that the car beside him had left the starting line in a cloud of smoke. All he could see were those eyes. The race, if you could call it that, was lost, but John didn't care. He worked up the courage to ask those beautiful emerald eyes for a date and she accepted. Those eyes must have been something special, because John was a very, very shy guy and it usually took him forever to work up the courage to ask a girl on a date. But he had, and she had accepted and he was in Heaven.
He remembered how long it had taken him to get ready for that date. He took a shower, shaved, combed his hair, took another shower, combed his hair, put on deodorant and after-shave lotion, took another shower, and then started all over again. He finally made it to his date. Her name was Sally, Sally McPherson, but she pronounced it ' McPheerson'. Her parents had recently moved the family from Scotland because times were tough and work was hard to find. They believed that life in the New World would be much better and a better life is what they wanted for their Sally. Now he was standing on her doorstep with a bouquet of flowers in his hand and his heart was racing.
The first date with Sally was wonderful, as was the second and third. John thought that maybe he was falling in love. Sally was certain that she was. And then it happened. News of war had broken out and all the young men were being called upon to protect and fight for their country. John was of the right age and the notice came in his mailbox and he had to go. Telling Sally was the hardest thing he had to do. There were tears and crying and more tears. They held onto each other like they were glued together, but the tears would eventually soften the glue and they would say their goodbyes. There were promises made that each would wait for the other and that they would write every day. And then John drove away. If he had looked into the rearview mirror, he would have seen Sally mouthing the words, "I love you, John."
For the first while the letters came on a regular basis. John wrote every day and so did Sally. But war is tough and as it continued the letters slowed. John was down to writing a letter every second day, and then every second month and finally he stopped writing altogether. Sally, on the other hand, continued her daily letters, but John was transferred from one unit to another, then another and another. Letters were written and forwarded, then misplaced and lost. All communication ceased and their lives continued on separate paths.
After the war John found a job in civilian life, married and raised a family. Sally never did marry, for John was her one and only love and she pined for him year after year. She continued to write her letters, but they were no longer mailed. She dreamed of the day they would be reunited and lived every day for that moment. What started as a wish and a dream became an obsession, an obsession of a broken heart. Life never got any better for Sally and she grew old alone and lonely.
Today she moved into a nursing home. Life had been a bitter pill and now she had nothing to look forward to except more loneliness in a place of strangers.
The car engine roared to life on the television screen and John jumped at the sound, sending his mind back to the present. It was Friday night at the nursing home and he looked forward to it every week. Friday night was Race Night and Channel Nine was showing clips of drag races from the past. He watched with intent as the announcer introduced the race. The flag was raised and held into position; - then he saw her. She was sitting in the corner of the room pretending to show interest with what was on the screen. Her hair was white, with a hint of blue, caused by using Mrs. Stewart's Bluing. Her face was pale and drained, but it was those eyes, emerald green and beautiful. It was Sally. John sat there watching her, unaware that the race had started. It was as if he had been transported to an earlier time. The race no longer mattered. He didn't care who won or who lost, for those emerald eyes once again mesmerized him. For a while Sally didn't notice him watching her. Her eyes were looking at the television screen, but her mind was reliving the past, the first time she had met him, their first date and the few dates after that. Then she recalled how he had broken the news that he had been drafted into the war. She remembered the tears and the crying and as the cars sped away on the television screen, it was as if she were watching John driving away to be gone forever.
"Who is that?" she wondered, as John got up from his chair and walked back to his room. Race Night was over now and John was feeling more weary than usual. Seeing Sally there tonight had brought back so many feelings and he wanted more than ever to rally his courage to talk with her and ask her on another date, but not tonight. Now Sally knew it was John and she hoped that he had noticed her. Oh, how she wished that he would talk with her. She felt like a giddy teenaged girl once again, but she knew better. What would he want with an old woman like her?
The next day John woke with new enthusiasm. He felt younger than he had in years. Today he would talk with Sally. But would she remember him, and if she did, would she still be interested after all this time? He walked to the television lounge and saw her sitting in the chair in the corner of the room. He pretended not to notice her, but those emerald eyes were looking in his direction. She was waiting, hoping, just like she had done for so many years. Would he come back to her; would he approach and talk with her today? But John didn't approach her today. He had tried, but his shyness took ahold of him and he also felt guilty for not continuing to write to her during the war. Maybe tomorrow.
Something was wrong. John walked to the television lounge, determined that he would talk with Sally today, try to explain why he had quit writing to her during the war, tell her how he felt and hope she would respond in kind. But Sally wasn't in the corner chair today. The nurse said that she had passed away in the middle of the night, and as she breathed her last breath, she thought she heard her whisper, "I love you, John."
by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul
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