I once asked a very frail man about an usual clock he was selling at the annual church swap-meet. He walked over a few tables to where it had been laying. His walk which could tell you a thousand stories of a million miles. I was still interested in the medium sized, wooden stained clock, though. He held it close to his chest and ushered to the pews. " Let's sit " he spoke softly. I put my arm out and he smiled as he held onto me. We sat down in the second row, far away from the others in the back. He looked down in his lap where the clock was now placed. His expression spoke a pain love story. One that his lips tried not to remember but you could tell that his heart did not dare forget. " People tend to leave us, even when we ask them to stay. I remember asking Betty Johnson to stay with me. The chances of your second grade crush to stay is very slim though. " He smiled while I listened to him speak along with the church breathing. " I fell in love with a very beautiful woman though around the age of 23. We met at a water hole. My pals and I would swim there and one day John Oatey shows up with a couple of young ladies; one of them being Shirley Jaxx. Isn't that the name of an angel? We fell in love at first words. I never believed in love at first sight so I went with sound. She had called me out for wearing a pair of slacks in the water. Truth is, I was in such rush to work in the fields that I forgot underpants. " He laughed and I tried my best not to burst out with him because my laugh shadowed thunder. He coughed slightly and continued " we got into so much trouble in the months that followed. We would fight uncontrollably as well though. She would make me scream. I'd then be a pain in the **s and make her cry. We got through it all though. I finally asked her to marry me. We had a small wedding with a family and a few pals but we celebrated all night long with dancing. In the summer of '31, she got pregnant. Now, she was moody when I met her but that nine months was pure hell. I'd be the best husband in the state and then a few short minutes later I'd be a son of a b*****d and end up with her pearls being thrown at me " I chuckled and so did he, then slowly he pulled his collar down and showed me a scar. " This happened when I just woke up and wasn't even out of bed yet." he laughed. " We had a baby boy. We named him Carter. He was the light of our lives. I use to jump from 30ft trees into a six foot wide water hole and I almost cried when Carter first scraped his knee. We he was four, my love got pregnant again. I was prepared for the wave of emotions this time" he looked down at the clock again. The mood shifted. " Four months in, my shirley had a stroke. I lost her and the baby" A long pause followed but his voice cracked the silence. " I tried my best to be a good dad, god knows I wasn't for the first year though. I had met her at 23 and lost her before I turned 30. Now here I am, more than 45 years later and I have never fell in love with anyone else. Nor did I ever find another girl as beautiful as her. Still though, I told a story to Carter every night about his momma. I taught him the piano because I told him how much she loved to hear me play. He was a good boy; even in his teenage years. I only ever enforced on rule, be kind. Kindness shows compassion, love, respect, and heart. He showed it too; every stranger and friend. Not everyone is kind though, sadly. He offered a ride home to man in the pouring rain. Carter found it to be a chance to make a new friend. The man found it to be a chance to steal money, a car, and a life. My boy was 19. " That feeling came back. His eyes glistened like they were dams ready to burst. " I built this clock a year after he passed. I carried it to the willow tree I had buried my loves underneath. I built it so the hands went backwards. I was hoping it would bring my son back. I would teach him more piano. I was hoping it would bring me back to those nights I told him stories about his momma. " He kept quiet. He places his feeble hand on mine and stuttered, " I hoped it would bring her back home into my arms ". I didn't say anything. What could I say? " Its yours " he places the clock on my lap and got up. I asked to pay but all he said was " I waited 45 years to tell that story. Thats payment enough ". A week passed and I was in those pews. As Service ended, the priest asked for our prayers to go out to the families of people who passed. He said the old mans name.
I went home and winded up the clock. I watched it go back two hours, hoping it would bring him back.