Little Tastes of Red Mire

(4) Saving Nila: Boy

Walker 

I remember being fifteen years old out on the closest lake shore to our house, fishing with dad on an unbearably hot day that summer dying to ask him a question I had no idea would change my life. Puberty made me awkward, gangly and placed blemishes all over my ever oily face despite the fact that my mom pushed me to wash it twice a day at least, and looking back hormones were driving me crazy -- though it wasn't a gaggle of girls I was chasing. Just one. Dad had just bent down to retrieve another worm from our small stash, humming to the radio playing lowly somewhere behind us. The scent of the water had been thick in the air, mixing with the pungent odor of a decaying fish somewhere around us and the overbearing smell of trashcans that desperately needed to be emptied. The slack in my line was the least of my worries at that time, usually I was dying to catch the first fish of the day -- today was different. I felt as if my question were so desperate to slip free that it was clawing its way out of my body. Before I could even think twice, it was out;

"How did you know mom was the one?" 

I remember the way he paused as he straightened, the dancing worm in his hand seemingly forgotten as he pondered how to answer. I felt it had taken an eternity before he responded, it made me regret even asking. My impatient body was frozen with fear as he tossed the worm back in the bucket and reeled in his line wordlessly. Had I asked a stupid question? I'd watched my parents dote on one another as I grew up, the secret, sweet glances and smiles. It was hard not to see how much they loved one another. He instructed me to pull my own line in and follow him to our lawn chairs, swiping lazily at the sweat on his face with the edge of his tshirt when he finally sat. His silver eyes stared at me for a long moment before he spoke, a soft smile on his face.

"Your mama was in a rough place when I met her and despite that she was the strongest, toughest person I knew. Her entire life had changed in a matter of weeks and she embraced it. She had you to care for, she had no time to do anything else." I recall scrunching up my brown in confusion, wondering why he was telling me this -- it wasn't answering my question. He wasn't telling me about sweaty palms, squeaky voices or racing hearts, only the strength I already knew my mother possessed. 

"I knew I loved her from the moment she smiled at me as I stood in her doorway introducing myself -- in my heart, soul, something just clicked. However, it took me a little longer to realize she was the one. My heart had already accepted it, son, my brain just had to catch up. I knew for certain that your mama was the one for me while we were at Walmart in Cedar Pond one evening shopping. We were going down the pasta aisle, I was pushing you in a buggy making weird noises to keep you distracted from the buckle on your seat -- you'd recently started picking up on pressing buttons -- when we heard something break. Everyone turned to find the source of the noise. It was an older woman, late eighties or so who had dropped a jar of tomato sauce trying to grab it from her scooter. God, I remember the look of heartbreak on her face and the embarrassment as she realized everyone was looking at her, I swear she was about cry. Others were content with staring as the mortified woman tried to get out of her buggy to clean up the mess, but your mother wasn't. She rushed to this woman, helped her clean up the mess as best they could until a sales associate came to finish up and proceeded to help the older woman finish her shopping despite the fact that she didn't even know who she was." there was a lost look on dad's face as he told the story, his gaze lost to far off memories. Still, I was puzzled how this fit even if that was a particularly nice story. 

"I didn't know until that night what she was to me, Walker. I just knew I had to be with her because I loved her. Seeing the kind of person she truly was that night made it hit me. Her pureness, her kindness, the love she had for others, ability to forgive, willingness to help -- that was what made me love her even more. Those actions proved why I loved her, but my soul already knew she was the one."