(Also for Three Word Wednesday and ABC Wednesday: "N" is for "Nelson")
Bloggers did well with last week’s quiz; quite a number found it easy. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy, as Socrates used to say. Wonder how they’ll find this week’s ?
Here’s the question. I wrote the following, thinking that perhaps it might remind folks of a famous movie. Which movie?
I got quite a shock when I ran into Ron Nelson last week.
He had been one of those types who always seemed to be both cheerful and contented. Not “I-just-won-the-lottery” cheerful; rather, “Things-are-going-along-okay” cheerful.
But last week he was a wreck, doleful and miserable-looking. You know the old gag about the horse that walked into a bar and the bartender asked: “Why the long face?”
Well, it was daunting but I felt like asking Ron that same question. But I shouldn’t joke about it because I knew what the problem was.
You see, Ron and his girl-friend Helen were the perfect couple. There was not one of the characters I hung out with that didn’t envy Ron; Helen was just about perfect. She was beautiful, no question about that, but she also managed to be fastidious, smart and somehow pleasant to everyone.
Incredibly, she and Ron were to be married in just a couple of weeks when disaster struck. Helen was killed in an accident. That happened last year but obviously Ron has not gotten over it. I can hardly blame him but still, it was a year ago.
When we met last week he suggested we have a drink together; he wanted to talk. It occurred to me that he should be talking with a professional, someone who could be of some help, but I thought I could at least listen.
In the bar Ron ordered some of the hard stuff, doubles, and began putting them away right off the bat. After knocking back more than a couple, he proceeded to tell me a highly improbable story.
The conversation went something like this:
Ron: “I saw Helen last week.”
Me: “You saw a girl who looks like Helen?”
Ron (whose voice began to intensify with emotion as he spoke): “No, that’s what makes this all so difficult; it was her.”
Me: “Listen, Ron, you had the greatest relationship. It’s only natural that the memory of that poor dead girl would always be with you.”
Ron: “You don’t get it. I knew you wouldn’t. This was no look-alike, no memory and not a ghost either. It was Helen!”
Well, I’m afraid I wasn’t full of help for Ron. Outside of suggesting he slack off a bit from the booze I literally didn’t know what to say.
(Also submitted to Sunday Scribblings)