Prologue
It was early springtime; the war was a couple of years past now and the world was getting’ on with life. New houses and businesses were springin’ up. People were even startin’ to take vacations again. Soon folks would be flockin’ to the Outer Banks; fishin’, swimmin’, goin’ out to see the place where Orville and Wilber Wright first flew their airoplane. ‘Haven’t been out there myself yet, maybe this would be the year.
Maybe this would be the year for new neighbors too. The old MacDougal place had been standing empty all winter, quiet and waiting for new life to arrive, just like the rest of the shore. Many folks had come to call, they'd look through the rooms – opening closets and drawers, then tread through the yard, right back to my place sometimes. “No sir, this is not part of the MacDougal place.” Since my place stands between them and the sound, well, it was not much of a selling point. The women never asked, never came near. I was used to it by then, but it felt like a knife every time I'd see them draw back. My injuries were not pretty, but I was certainly not the only man to return with a changed appearance. The war had been difficult, and I suppose most folks just wanted to forget. Heck, I wish I could forget some parts too, but not everything. I try to keep the warm thoughts near on cold nights, knowin’ there is still good left in this world. ‘Don’t always know it b’fore it comes your way, funny how that works.
Then came that beautiful day in early March; the trees were moving from bud to bloom, the flowers were sprouting, the air was awash with aroma. I was on the back porch, escaping the mid-morning rays, watching the birds nesting and courting. My gaze was caught by a soft floral dress out front, light yellow flowers on a field of pale blue. They spent a long time in the house, more than most. Then they all stepped out to the back – I remember they came out together, but I only felt the rush of wonder from her and her soft floral dress.
They talked for what seemed like an hour, pointing and nodding. It felt strange watching them up on the hill, and me being mesmerized by the lovely auburn hair and flowing field of flowers she wore. I imagined her voice, although I knew I'd never have the chance to hear it. No matter, it was a pleasure to watch either way.
I closed my eyes to imagine for a moment while they finished. I wanted to capture that image for future reference. It was the perfect image to accompany the sweetly perfumed springtime air. Breathing in and taking with that breath the sounds of the shore birds and songbirds, the gentle breeze in the trees, the impending warmth of the day, and the image of a lovely stranger so near to my home. I did not want to let that moment go. Relaxed and content with life; beauty in all forms today. Who could ask for a better start to the week?
“Hello ... Hank? – is that right?” it was the voice of an angel. I was afraid to open my eyes at first, fearing it might just be a dream and not wanting to be awakened.
Then came the loud whisper in the other direction, “I'm afraid we may be disturbing him...”
My eyes flew open and I sprang to my feet. I was wiping my hands and trying to look presentable. Was this really happening? I rarely had the chance to speak to a woman, even at the stores in town the men would help me with my purchases or I'd have things delivered.
“No Helen, look, Mr. Montgomery is right...”started one of the men, but I cut him off….
“…right about done with my day-dreaming. Sorry Ma’am, Mrs. Helen is it? My most ardent apologies – 'just taking in the day.” I'd wished the two men away, but of course, that wish was not to be granted.
The one fella said, “Hank – this is Dr.Korman – Navy Doctor - and his wife, Helen. They are looking at the MacDougal place.” He said something else too, I don’t recall… The men were getting’ closer and talkin’, about what was of no consequence to me what-so-ever. I started down the two steps to the back walk.
“ ‘That right?” I asked Helen very cautiously, thinkin’ the scene might might disappear back into the dream world.
“Yes Sir, Mr. Montgomery, sorry to be so forward. Only, I thought – well – if we're going to be neighbors...so sorry Mr. Montgomery...I just...” this lovely lady – my neighbor? She kept tryin’ to apologize, to me!
“Ma'am...Ma'am. My name is Henry, and it is my pleasure to meet you. Everyone calls me Hank 'round town and all. My name is actually Henry.” I wanted to hear her say my name. . I held out my hand, just hopin’ to touch her lovely skin for an instant. I do believe I was holdin’ my breath.
And as our hands met in that first handshake, Helen said, “Henry – it is my honor and privilege to meet you, Sir. I understand you served our country in the War – and it is my pleasure. Please do call me Helen, I’ve never gotten used to Mrs. Korman.” Her voice was like music to my ears, her touch like silk on my skin, her sweet perfume, light and floral – to match her dress. And even more lovely up close. I must have replayed that day over and over in my head, more than a million times over the past thirty years. And I can still see it and smell it, just like it was yesterday.
The rest of the conversation is a blur, I just knew that this wonderful couple, a military doctor and his lovely wife were to be my new neighbors. And that was just fine with me.
***
Copyright © 2019 The Pelican and The Swan - All Rights Reserved.
Powered by GoDaddy GoCentral Website Builder