Lonesome, Texas

Photo by Alexander Grey on Unsplash

[If you want a mood — play this and then read the story below.]

“This is where she settled down.”

Obviously. Why did stupid things come out of his mouth?

It was quiet for a long time. The air was dusty and yellow and void of the purifying effects of air conditioning. It smelled of that unmistakable old people smell we all swear never will come to us. But it comes to us all. The body catches up and does what it wants. Even cells get tired and begin to get lazy, and out comes that old people smell. Masked with perfume it’s only amplified.

He looked at the woman. Definitely from out of town. Probably European. Never been to Texas before, that was for dang sure. A bit cute but maybe a little too old. Maybe.

The white adobe house had unusually large windows that completely forfeited its original purpose. That’s how she’d wanted it. She had always talked about light. Light and the ocean. Then why the hell did she settle down in this dusty town hundreds of miles away from the ocean?

“Does the electricity still work?”

“Sure does, ma’am! Water too. Can be fixed by tomorrow if you need it.”

“Thanks, that would be great. I’m not used to the heat.” She laughed nervously.

He watched her slowly walk through the living room toward the fireplace. He saw her breathe in. She looked at the items on the mantelpiece and stopped and held up a pine cone.

“Pinus sylvestris” 

He didn’t understand and said nothing.

“I was with her when she picked this cone. It was by the sea where the granite rocks and pine trees mingle. You see, the granite bedrock jots out as a remnant from the ice age and the pine trees cling on as best they can. Have you ever walked in a pine forest up north?” This was the most she had spoken since he met her. She seemed to enjoy talking about nature and trees, he thought.

“No ma’am, I haven’t. You like pine cones?” He kicked himself very hard mentally for sounding extra stupid. She let out a small laughter and it sounded genuine.

“It’s a nice pine cone. Interesting that she kept it here, on the mantelpiece all these years. The things we keep… don’t you sometimes wonder if it’s the items we truly cherish or items that just happened to be there at the right time?” She held the pine cone in a pincer grip between them. He instinctively reached out his hand and the pine cone transferred from her hand to his.

It felt prickly and he noticed that the edges of the cones formed hook-like shapes. The cone rolled in his palm and out fell one lonesome pine tree seed. 

The pine seed looked like a propeller, he thought. Like the wooden propeller of an old airplane in his great-grandpa's barn. He didn’t know what to say so he placed the cone back in her hand and kept the seed in his own. He closed his hand and since it was slightly sweaty the seed stuck in place, as a sticker would, and he just let it be there.

“I’ll stay for a week, maybe longer if that’s OK with… with you?” 

“Yes ma’am, you can stay as long as you like. As a matter of fact, these old houses seem to like it when we humans live in them, you know?” 

She smiled, and walked into the kitchen to take a look.

“That’s a lovely way of thinking! Thank you for being so welcoming.”

“You bet. May I ask you a question, ma’am?”

“Of course!”

“Are you her daughter?”

She was looking out through the kitchen window at the vast fields of corn. Her back was turned to him and she was absolutely still. He knew she had heard him. A yellow light reached across her shoulders but left everything else in shadow. When she turned around he could barely see her face, but he saw she was crying. She was crying quietly without wrinkling her face. Most people he knew wrinkled their faces when they cried. Instead she had a perfectly calm face, except the large droplets of tears that fell off her face onto her shirt.

Photo by Didssph on Unsplash

“I wish I had been her daughter.”

“Yes ma’am. I will always remember her. She was very kind to me.”

He stood there for a while but didn’t want her to feel awkward so he finally reached out his hand toward her. He understood a bit more now. She had come a long way to be here, and she needed to be alone. There would be time later to talk more.

“Well, it’s been a pleasure ma’am. Please don’t hesitate to call or text if you need anything. I’m about 20 minutes down that way.” He pointed his hat westward. 

“Thank you, you’re very kind.” She stepped into the light and smiled a jet lagged smile. Then they shook hands as if a deal had been made between them. Fast, firm and friendly.

When he sat down in his truck to drive home he noticed that the pine seed was gone from the palm of his hand. He looked in the rearview mirror and saw that she had followed him out and was standing on the porch as if she’d always belonged there. She was holding up her hand and was waving goodbye. It was too far away to tell, but there might have been a pine seed in her palm.

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