The Elder Storytelling Place

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Monday, 25 October 2010

Story Time

By Helen

Suddenly the family gathered. As they arrived, they took a seat in the living room of the house where just hours before there were two parents. Now, just one who sat quietly stunned by death.

Nothing to say and yet everything to tell. Memories of back then, back when. Pictures pulled, dusty from the top shelf of the closet, began the journey back into childhood.

Back then, back when George had just graduated from high school he decided, with his brother Sam, to take a drive to see the ocean. Both boys were haunted by the death of the in-between brother Tom, who had died just a few short months before in an auto accident, and boys needed time and distance from the sorrow.

So they borrowed their mother's car and began driving east.

The Atlantic ocean looked the same as it had when the family had last seen it just a couple of summers before when Tom was still alive. The boys, teenagers really, looked at each other and said, "Well, there's more than one ocean,” got in the car and began driving west.

They took turns driving, dipping into the bag of groceries from the last fill up gas station. Because the family had always traveled, the boys were accustomed to the pitching of tents, camp stoves and knew the importance of calling home. The one driving was the one who kept an eye on the gas gauge.

They were getting just a bit weary by the time they got as far as the edge of the desert and once again traded places. Soon, the one not driving fell sound asleep. He was awakened by his brother who loudly informed him they were out of gas.

"You were supposed to fill up before we traded places," shouted the older brother.

In every direction was sand. North, south, east, west, sand. Putting on the binoculars - ah ha, look, there, about a half a mile or so is either a mirage or there is what appears to be a store.

As luck would have it they had run out of gas on the top of a hill, so pushing the car down towards the mirage or store was a whole lot easier. As they got closer they could see it was indeed a store, and as they got even closer they could see a man sitting out in front of the store watching them.

"Howdy boys," said the man who was smiling. "Bet you're a tad tired. Looks like you got car trouble, or you're out of gas," the man continued. "If you're out of gas, you're out of luck too, cause we don't sell gas."

After resting up just a bit, the boys took a look at what the man did sell in his weather-beaten old place out there in the middle of nowhere.

"Hey, look at this," exclaimed George."Lamp oil."

"Wow," said Sam excitedly. "That's fuel!"

They bought all the lamp oil the man had in his store and poured it into the gas tank of their dear old mother's car and headed out.

It worked too. They got to the next town smelling pretty because it was strawberry lamp oil.

[INVITATION: All elders, 50 and older, are welcome to submit stories for this blog. They can be fiction, non-fiction, poetry, memoir, etc. Instructions for submitting are here.]

Posted by Ronni Bennett at 05:30 AM | Permalink | Email this post