Time and place

Time and place

He bites back the harsh words and bitter emotions; closes his eyes and sees the small camp in Mystic Valley where the river runs down from the mountains into the lake. Out in the lake’s center, he sees a fish jump as it catches a fly. Off in the distance he hears lovely piano music playing but has no clue where it’s coming from. However, it seems to soothe his soul instantly as he builds a campfire. Striking the flint, it ignites with the first attempt, and he sits back and starts to cook a fish that is on the table next to the tent. He focuses on this scene in his mind to calm down. This was something he’d learned to do from friends. It had all started with a simple request, but quickly turned into an argument over money and risk to their future. He says it’s worth it, but his father disagrees; nonetheless, it is too late he had already signed up to go.

Dublin

“Welcome to Ireland” he hears the flight attendant say as he gets off the plane. Dublin looks like most cities he has visited over the past few years. Sure, each city had its unique aspects, art, architecture, and such; but when the most he ever got to see was airports, hotels, and lecture halls, they began to blend together. He was attempting to make the best use of his degree in cultural anthropology, he has attended lectures and conferences in different cities worldwide. He spends the next three days listening to men talk about the history and the times of Ireland including talks on the culture, and art of the Emerald Isle. And though he desired to come here most of all, he’s not as interested as he would normally be. Late on the third night, he lets a few of his friends talk him into going to a small farm town several miles away from the city to visit a pub that one of them had been told about by a local. He was sitting in the back of the pub just listening to various people talk about the day’s business and events of interest. Of particular interest to him was an old man who reminded him of his grandfather, offering a comparison to the old days. In a sudden move that he was not sure about, he goes to the bar orders 2 pints of beer, and sits with the man offering him the second pint. The old man looked suspicious when all he asks is for permission to sit and listen to the old man. Taken slightly aback the old man looks him up and down and then agrees asking if there’s anything in particular that he wants to know about. He thinks about it for a moment and then says “You Sir. I’d like to know more about you.” as the evening progresses, he finds out that the man was a World War 2 veteran who lied about his age to serve King and Country. While serving he was captured in France and spent most of the war in a Nazi POW camp in central Germany. Nevertheless, he and several of his comrades were able to escape and make it back to France. They later went back and liberated the very same camp that they were held in. The topic turned to friends and family, and he found that they may be distantly related. Through all the talking they feel related, and the old man lets slip “You remind me of my grandson from way back when he was still interested in this old man”. He asks about the old man’s other family members and after a while the old man says that his wife passed in 79, his son died in Vietnam, and his grandson died in Iraq not long ago. His daughter-in-law remarried and had no real interest in him, and his granddaughter lives somewhere in America, but they haven’t spoken in years. Just then the people from the class he was with told him it was time they got back to the hotel. He turned to the old man and asked will he be here tomorrow the old man said tomorrow’s New Year’s and I have nowhere I need to be. The young man said “Yes you do. You have to be here so we can talk again.” the old man smiled and said, “OK, I will be here”. So, the two celebrated the new year together and every evening for the rest of his class trip he was at that pub with the old man, and they talked about everything from family to history to hobbies. Through their conversations, he found out that he and the old man both loved to cook. On the last day of the trip, he was told that he had a day for sightseeing, so he called the old man to see if he could visit with him. The old man invited him to his house outside of the town where they met. He had to follow an old dirt road that led through a densely wooded lot to reach the old man’s house. When the path opened upon a clearing he saw the old man’s house. He was shocked, it was like something from a dream, a small wooden farmhouse and barn sitting next to a lake, with a sheep pen, and cows, chickens, pigs, only a few of each but that didn’t matter. It just looked so much like a painting or picture he walked up to the door and saw an old brass bell with a sign that said, “Pull the rope to ring the bell” and so he did just that. The old man opened the door and said “Perfect timing laddie, tea is just about done. Let’s go out back and we can sit and talk”. They sat by the water; the old man began talking of his friends from the service and how all but two of them were dead now. As time passed it was noon and the old man asked if he was hungry. Saying yes, the old man said, “How much do you like fish?”, to which he responded “I’ve never really liked fish. I think it’s because I’ve never really had it made properly.” to which the old man responds “You’ve never had my fish” the two went inside the house and the old man went to an old antique looking ice box in the kitchen and pulled out two good sized fish. “I caught these this morning,” he said as he began to clean and gut them. Looking up briefly from his task the old man sees him looking into his sitting room, “go ahead and look around” he said. As he looked around the sitting room and dining room, he saw several pictures and some intriguing news articles. However, what caught his eye was an old antique radio on the mantel over a large fireplace in the corner of the room across from 2 chairs, “does your radio still work” he asked. “I still get a few stations, but most people around here have that fancy satellite radio or television. I never really felt like replacing my father’s radio with a little gray box the size of a tin of sardines”. “Can I turn it on?” he asked. “Go ahead” came the old man’s response from the kitchen. He turns the knob and a voice with a strong British accent announces, “Mozart’s piano concerto #7” and then the music starts playing. All of a sudden, the smell of hot cooking oil and frying fish fills the room. “Lunch is almost ready” the old man’s voice comes from the kitchen. He sits in the chair to the left of the fireplace and looks around the room again and notices an old writing desk and several cabinets with glass fronts. In the cabinets there was a collection of several items including an old military revolver from the First World War, a few knives, an old wind-up clock, some small wooden boxes, and a metal jewelry box. The old man walks into the room holding a tray with two plates of fish and chips and two empty glasses. “I think it is a good day to have a drink,” the old man said. “I would love a drink” the young man replies. The old man goes over to the writing desk and using a small key opens the bottom drawer on the right side. Once open he pulls out a dusty old bottle, “It has never been opened. This was a gift from my father the day I got married” he said. “He told me to save it for the right time and place. This seems like the time and place” he dusted it off and pulled the cork. It was a bottle of Scotch whisky dated 1935. The old man recounted the day he was married in 1950. It had been sitting for over 60 years, the bottle is roughly 80 years old at this point. The old man poured 2 glasses and they sat sipping their drinks and eating their lunch. It was the best lunch he’d ever had. It reminded him of a meal shared with his grandfather. “Thank you,” he said when they finished. “It was my pleasure, young man.” The old man smiled as he said, “I appreciate having somebody around who wants to talk to me”. “No Sir, it was my pleasure” he looks at the clock and says, “I think it’s time for me to go”. “Before you do I want you to have a few things” The old man corks the bottle opens one of the cabinets grabs two small boxes, and a stack of papers then slides everything into an old leather briefcase and hands it to him. “I can’t take this from you,” he says. “Sure, you can. Plus, I insist,” the old man says. “I want you to have these. I also want you to write to me occasionally. I’d like to know how you’re doing”. He agrees and takes the briefcase and for the next 15 years, they wrote to each other every week, until one day he finally received a letter from a law firm in Ireland stating that the old man had died and named him his sole beneficiary. Later that month he flew to Ireland to attend the funeral and claim his inheritance. As he approached the now empty house, he remembered that day two of them had had lunch. He approached the door and opened the leather briefcase, pulled out a key to unlock it. Walking inside he was overcome by the smell of cooking oil and fried fish filling the air. Walking into the sitting room he turned on the old antique radio which began playing of all things Mozart Piano Concerto #7. Smiling at the memory he again opened the briefcase and pulled out the dusty old bottle and a glass and said to the room at large “I think this is the right time and place”. He then sat at the desk and poured 3 fingers of Scotch into the glass. Then for the third time, he opened the briefcase and pulled out the two wooden boxes and some paper. He opened one of the boxes and in it was a picture of the old man and his wife on the other wedding day the old man was young wearing his army uniform looking proud with a smiling bride beside him. In the second wooden box was a pen and ink set. He opened the ink and put pen to paper to begin and began to write.

He bites back the harsh...

The end