The Swimming Pond

It was at the far end of the cow pasture. It was a good distant from the farmhouse, the barn and barnyard. It was a summer haven beyond the rocky ground trampled from decades and generations of dairy cattle and beef cattle alike. At the border of the cow pasture was the smooth, green grass absent of many stone and rocks.

A barbwire fence stretched through one end of the big pond which allowed the cows and horses to drink from that side, but kept them off the green grass of the swimming pond.

Oh, what a beautiful pond it was indeed. And the green grass which surrounded it, leading up to the cow pasture.

It was the summer haven where the farm boys and girls went on hot days when their farm chores were done.

It was a big pond. The pond was big enough for a row boat and one which took several minutes to swim from one end to the other.

Ducks and geese swam on that pond, too. It was fun watching the ducks and geese, especially when they had little ones swimming behind them.

The green, grassy area was over an acre and the pond itself took up another acre and that didn’t take into consideration the green area surrounding the beach of the big pond.

In the middle of the grassy area were a cluster of huge shade trees. And there was an apple tree, too.

In the summer, the country kids would go swimming. In the winter, after the pond had frozen over, and the kids shoveled the snow from the top of it, it was a skating rink.

Up in one of the sheds behind the barn were the old ice saw, a huge thing to any child, and generations of grandfathers before used to cut blocks of ice and carry them with ice hooks, taking them back to the old stone milk house and in there was an old milk cooler where blocks of ice were layered with sawdust which kept perishables cold all summer long. That is what the grown ups used to tell. That was in the old days. The old days when generations ago, grandfather’s grandfather used to run the farm.

Along the pond was a makeshift boat dock. The kids would tie the row boat to that wooden dock. They’d also get a good and running start and jump off the end into the pond. Sometimes they would climb the big old oak tree which grew so strong and leaned over the pond. On a long branch of that oak tree was a rope. They’d swing off that rope into the pond. Sometimes they climbed the old oak tree and just dive into the pond off the limb. Like they did the wooden boat dock.

That wooden boat dock was also the source of entertainment when it came fishing time. Sitting on the end of the long dock, or sometimes just on the edges of the side, the boys would hold their fishing poles and cast their lines far out in the pond where the big fish were.

But swimming was the favorite sport for both the boys and girls at that big pond. That’s why it was called the swimming pond, and not the boat pond, or the fishing pond or the ice skating pond, of which all would have been true if anyone had said so. Nor did they call it the animal’s drinking hole, which was also true. It was the swimming pond.

When the kids splashed in the pond, the ducks and geese would swim away to the other side, sometimes they’d leave the pond altogether and not return until the kids climbed out of the pond and went home.

The pond was a special place for humans and animals alike. A very special place.

Sixteen-year-old Colby got sixteen-year-old Sarah in that swimming pond one summer afternoon when only the two of them were swimming. They were in the water and no one could see what they were doing. It just happened. Things like that happened to country boys and girls who were teenagers coming of age.

Colby and Sarah used to go to the swimming hole all of the time to be alone. They could see as far as the eye could see if anyone was coming. The privacy they had allowed them to fall in love and do things that lovers alone did. No one ever knew.
It was something that was only shared between Colby and Sarah.

Sarah was so beautiful. There were so many of the country boys wanted to be with Sarah. But Sarah only cared enough for Colby to let him go all the way with her. And that way was the beginning of a love which grew stronger and stronger as the days, the weeks, the months and the years went by.

Both Colby and Sarah had known that what they had done was wrong in the water of the pond when they first made love. They were Christian children, but their attraction for each other grew so much that they without thinking did the forbidding thing.

Colby was such a handsome young man, Sarah thought. And he was so nice and polite and just so good to her. He was in the same classes in school as she was and he worked so hard on his father’s farm which was right next to Sarah’s own father’s farm.

In her two-piece bathing suit, with her dark hair tied back and her gorgeous figure, she’d dive into the swimming pool and Colby in his swim trucks and his muscular body looking so delicious, he’d dive in after her and they would frolic in the water like mermaids, diving and splashing and rising up high in the air, above the water with water falling like a water fall back into the pond before the gravity brought them down and under again.

And they’d play like that for the longest time.

And then, standing with their feet on the bottom of the pond, they would embrace and kiss. Of course, they only had done that after checking that no one was spying on them.

And they would kiss and the kiss grew deeper. And then the kiss was known as a French kiss and then it would happen, slowly it would happen and eventually it did happen, until it was over with, with both of them the same age with wide grins of pride on their teenage faces.

They’d embrace and a plant tender loving kiss on the other’s face and lips and then once again they resumed their swimming and playing.

The swimming pond was their favorite place. But sometimes they’d go up in the haymow and make tender love when they could get away with it.

And when Colby got his driver’s license, they’d go for a ride and find some back road to play their coming of age game alone, inside Colby’s pickup truck.

And then there were times in the backfields, sometimes while riding horses together, and other times while driving a tractor and a hay wagon or some sort of farm implement down there.

And in the winter time, after the snow had fallen on the backfield and the hills surrounding the farm, Colby and Sarah would sometimes ride their snow machines up in the hills or the backfields after their evening chores were done and they’d sit and watch the night lights of the farm. They’d sit on the snowmobiles and see their breath and then the romantic mood would come and one thing would lead to another and they were happy the way it ended.

But the big swimming pond was the most memorable to them, for that was where the first time they did it was. There was always so much to do around that swimming pond. Anytime of the year while they were growing up, that swimming pond provided year-round fun for them. They never out grew that big old swimming pond. It was a place of memories that would last a lifetime.

Sometimes in the evening, in the fall, after their chores were done, Sarah and Colby would go for long walks down around the big swimming pond, holding hands and talking about their plans for the future.

The teenagers were so much in love. Sarah’s parents and Colby’s, too, well approved of their romance and already were making plans for the future for them as a couple.

And then that future came, shortly after Colby and Sarah graduated from high school. They both turned eighteen that summer, shortly after graduation, and the high school sweethearts got married in the month of July.

There was a big shindig with outdoor country music and all of the farmers and their families from miles around coming to attend the union of Colby and Sarah and the wedding party thereafter. There never seemed to be happier teenagers in love and marriage and their never seemed to be happier parents or farm neighbors either. Everyone had a grand time.

Colby and Sarah lived on Sarah’s family farm, which was the farm where the big swimming pond was. And even as they left their teen years and moved into their early twenties that pond was a source of night walks and peaceful time alone together as it had been while they were growing up.

Soon, Colby or Sarah was holding a little one in their arms as they walked as a young couple. And then there were two little ones.

The family was growing and the source of labor was on the two farms, Colby’s fathers and Sarah’s father were the work was spilt since both families needed the labor of Colby.

The little boys and girls of Colby and Sarah’s were growing like weeds, as the maternal and paternal grandmothers would say.
There were four children in all, starting from the oldest to the youngest, Jake, Bonnie, Kyle, and Jennifer.

The family was growing and there was a solid future. It was already planned that Colby and Sarah one day would merge the two farms and run them as one once the old folks retired.

The big old swimming pond was where Sarah and Colby would go for walks while one of the grandmothers would watch the children during visiting time. There was peace there at the swimming pond and Sarah and Colby were as fond of that pond as any other place on God’s good earth.

Sometimes they’d sit on the boat dock after removing their shoes and socks and hold each others hands or have their arms around each other as they dangled their legs off the edge with their feet soaking comfortably in the water.

They’d smile to one another, not an once of their love ever faded, and one or the other would nod in the direction of the very spot they first made love in the watering hole. They’d giggle like children and speak of how wonderful their life together was.

Now and again, a cow would bellow, from on the other side of the barbwire fence, her head rising up from the waterhole with pond water dripping off her nose back into the pond water making ripples, before she would dip her snout back into the water and drink some more.

Just like every time the two young lovers went to that place they loved so much, one would say to the other, usually Sarah would begin, “I love you, Colby.” And Colby would respond, “And I love you, too, Sarah, my one and only love.” Then Colby’s arms would go around Sarah’s slender waist and he’s hold her tight. She’d lay her head back against his shoulders and they’d sit there holding one another in silence. They only sound their was, was their feet moving in the pond water, a cow bellowing, a frog croaking, a cricket chirping, or dog barking in the distance. The melodies playing in their minds came from heaven and as they leaned against the other their love grew closer still.

The children were growing up and farm life wasn’t for them. The unfortunate time came when first Colby’s father and then Sarah’s father passed on to that great farm in the sky. Not long after so went Sarah’s mother followed by Colby’s mother.

Soon, Sarah and Colby were alone on the big farm, now the two of those huge spreads one. Colby had great difficulty running the farms by himself, and without the boys having an interest he was forced to hire two hands to help him manage.

More years went by and Sarah and Colby still went down to that big swimming pond almost nightly for their evening walk. They were alone, but of late except for one of the old farm dogs, Shep, who would tag along and sleep on the boat dock as the two lovers sat side by side, spending their quality time together exactly as they had done for so many years now.

“Do you think God ever forgave us, when we…” Sarah spoke softly.

“Of course He did, Love,” Colby answered even before she had finished her sentence, for he knew what was on his wife’s mind.

Sarah leaned her head back against his shoulder as she had always done and placed her hand over his and closed her eyes.

She spoke with her eyes closed, her voice as soft and gentle as the breeze which was passing them my, “You know, Babe, that was the only thing we ever did wrong in our entire lives, and it doesn’t seem so wrong, does it?”

“I think because it was true love and not lust is why He would forgive us.” His arm across in front of her, his hand resting on her opposite shoulder, closed tighter, “We did right, we married, our love grew as it continues to grow, we raised fine children and we let Him guide us and here were are now, in the hands of the Lord.”

“Yes, it seems soooo, perfect.”

“And it is.”

“I love you, Colby,”

“Not as much as I love you.”

“Oh yes, I dooooo.”

Soon they were giggle and Colby teased his wife, threatening to push her in the water.

“You wouldn’t.”

“You know I would.”

“Shep! Help! Shep! Get him, Boy!”

Shep was on his feet and barking, his tail wagging rapidly. Colby reached around and petted the old German Shepard on the head, “Easy boy, or no biscuits for you tonight!”

The laughing couple made their way back to the farmhouse with old Shep following along.

Then the news came when Jake, their oldest son was killed in action. The war had worried Sarah more than it had Colby, but the loss was tremendous on both of the parents. Such a wasteful loss it was of a fine, upstanding boy.

As if that struggle wasn’t enough for the country couple, it was only a year later that their baby, their youngest girl, Jennifer, was killed in an automobile wreck just outside the county line.

Colby never took to drinking. He’d only consume a beer or two and that was only during family reunions or some other big celebration which gave reason for him too.

But after ‘Daddy’s little girl’ went away, Colby began drinking some, but only after all of the chores were done. Along those walks he and Sarah would take in the evening, down to the big old swimming pond, he’d bring a few bottles of beers with him, just to drown the thoughts.

For a long time, Sarah never said a word about her loving husband bringing along those bottles of beer. She didn’t really mind. But then a time came when she would worry about her man and she said something to him while they sat on the boat dock near the pond.

“Love, are you going to stop drinking one day?” she spoke softly and gentle as always.

For the longest time her husband did not answer and when he finally did his voice was so low, she could barely hear him, “Someday.”

The farm couple went on with their lives. It was Sarah who seemed to handle the tragic losses of their lives better than Colby. Although it wasn’t visible to others, Sarah could see the change coming of her husband and that worried her more than anything else.

They only time it seemed that the couple were happy anymore was when their two middle children, Bonnie and Kyle came to visit. But their visits were few and far between since they both had their own families now and lived several states away.

Whenever Bonnie or Kyle came to visit with their own families, Sarah and Colby would make up a big shindig and they’d party outside, barbecue on the lawn in front of the farmhouse or inside if it were winter. Colby would find an excuse to drink, often stating that he had reason to celebrate. But he always seemed to over do it, and on times like those he’d get drunk and pass out on the lawn or on the sofa depending on where he was at the time. That brought great displeasure to his wife, Sarah, for she was embarrassed that her two remaining children would see their father like this.

“He’s never got over the loss of Jake or Jennifer,” mother would explain to her two adult children.

But Bonnie and Kyle understood full well the pain inside their father’s heart. He was a good man, they knew, for he raised them right. They didn’t know how to help him, so they just let things be. The only thing they could do was pray for him and along with Sarah while he slept off his drunkenness, they prayed.

When Bonnie and/or Kyle would leave with their families, it would be so lonely for Colby and Sarah. It was a long time coming before either of the two children would visit again since they now lived so far away.

And for Sarah, the most heartbreaking thing for her, the nightly walks she and her husband made to the big swimming pond at far end of the cow pasture were becoming fewer and fewer. It was a good distance from the farmhouse and she didn’t care to walk there alone. It just wouldn’t be the same.

Colby would often finish his chores on the farm, send the hired men along their way to the bunkhouse, after supper and then he’d be in the refrigerator opening a bottle of beer.

Sarah would mention she wanted to go for a walk, and Colby would promise her, “In a minute, right after I finish this beer.”

But he’d always open another and before long he’d be snoring on the sofa.

Sarah would just sit, content, in her chair and read a good book. Sometimes that good book was the Bible.

Maybe God is angry at us, because we didn’t do it properly, like after we were married, like we were suppose to do, she thought to herself. Sarah was beginning to wonder. In her own mind she was no longer certain. She asked for forgiveness and she asked the Lord to forgive her husband.

Once in awhile Colby would forsake the nightly beer and go for the walk with Sarah down to the pond. He began calling it the milk pond, but Sarah paid no mind. She simply held her husband’s hand and enjoyed their walk with Shep following along behind them.

Where did all the time go? Sarah wondered in her own mind. It seems like just yesterday we were kids frolicking in the pond and planning our future. Now our future is here, and it came so fast.

Sarah didn’t share her thoughts with her husband; she only thought them to herself. Colby didn’t speak much on these trips, not like he used to. He was a bit withdrawn, seemingly like in a world all of his own. He was never belligerent or in anyway disrespectful of his wife, Sarah, he just seemed to remain to himself.

Sarah leaned on his shoulder, he head turning so her face could feel the warmth of her husband’s body, but it just didn’t seem to be the same. Their times spent together at the pond were growing shorter and fewer. Colby couldn’t seem to wait to get back to the farmhouse and have a drink. Often it would take six drinks or more before he nodded off in his chair or the sofa and later, much later Sarah would have to wake him for bed.

Time passed and Sarah asked Colby to take her to the doctors, she had made an appointment, she said. So, Colby drove Sarah into town and waited in the parking lot while his wife was being attended to by the doctor. He never said much to her, he just waited for her response. Time passed again and Sarah had been referred to another doctor and Colby was always willing to take her where she needed to go, without asking questions, which he figured was woman’s business.

Then one day on a return trip home to the farm from the doctor’s office, Sarah dropped the bomb on her husband, “Colby? The doctor said I have cancer.”

Colby swallowed hard. He didn’t say a word. Tears welted up in his eyes. He never let his wife see him cry and he struggled now to keep her from seeing him as he looked out the driver’s window and secretly wiped his tears away.

“Baby… I’m sorry!” He said, his chin quivering, “I promise you Sarah, I’ll be a better husband!”

“Oh, Love, there could be no better husband than you, you know I’ve always loved you. I will always love you!”

Colby said nothing. He just drove home. He escorted his wife into the farmhouse and she prepared supper. He talked to her all the time she was preparing the evening meal. He seldom did this anymore, like he once did. He asked her questions, he wanted to know what this cancer doctor had said and he wanted to know how she was feeling. How long did they have together?

The men came in from the barn and had supper with them and then went to the bunkhouse to leave Sarah and Colby alone. Colby didn’t touch a beer this evening, instead he helped his wife do the dishes and after they were dried, he took her by the hand and led her out the door.

With Shep following along behind them, they walked slowly, more like strolling, toward that peaceful haven at the far end of the cow pasture.

Sarah was smiling, but Colby was grim faced. Anything that could make him sober up so quickly and not desire a beer had to be pretty powerful stuff.

Colby didn’t say many words as he held his wife’s hand and led her toward the ‘milk pond’. The words he did speak he didn’t need to speak for Sarah already knew.

“I love you Sarah. I love you so much.” He choked, he couldn’t speak the next words without a paused, and as he paused he turned into Sarah and hugged her, his chin resting on her shoulder, he cried, “I can’t live without you, Love! You are my soul mate and God knows that!”

“Easy, baby,” Sarah whispered, as she rubbed his back, soothingly, “Shhhh! Don’t cry for me! Don’t cry for me, Baby!”

Colby cried all the more. Seldom in all of their years together did Colby every cry in front of his beautiful wife. He always maintained an appearance of strength, even when he felt weak.

Sarah was the kind of woman who took things for the way they were. There wasn’t much sense in sobbing away the few days, weeks or months she had left. She intended to enjoy life to the fullest, what time she had left.

“I can’t live without you,” he whispered again with a choked up voice filled with quiver.

“Don’t talk like that, Baby,” she whispered, stroking his back, through his flannel shirt, “Think of the children. You need to stay strong for Bonnie and Kyle. Promise me you will. You’ve always been a strong man now is not the time to forsake me.”

Sarah place he hand under her husband’s chin and lifted it slightly as she peered into his eyes, “We are almost there, Baby! Let’s continue. God will remain with us.”

The couple walked hand in hand. The autumn leaves were in full foliage color of fall. Colby spoke no words and it took him several moments to get himself together so he could speak to his wife. His eyes were on the well-traveled path, the same path he and this woman had stepped since they were kids, together.

Soon, they were walking around the pond along the smooth, green, grassy area until they came to the boat dock and walked along the wooden planks.

“Let’s take a ride in the boat,” Sarah suggested.

Colby nodded, shaking his head quickly in agreement, but unable to lift his eyes. He offered his arm and his wife took hold of it as she stepped carefully into the boat. Once she was sitting down, he climbed in and sat on the seat across from her, and then untied the boat.

Using an oar, Colby pushed against the boat dock and shoved the boat out into the water.

Then he rowed. He leaned forward and pulled back. He leaned forward and pulled back, both oars, bringing the small row boat out toward the center of the pond.

Sarah leaned forward and held her husband’s shoulder, “It’ll be okay, Colby. God will see you through.”

Colby’s chin was quivering. He managed not to cry, but at the moment, he couldn’t lift his eyes. He just nodded his head; more like a child would at his mother, than a man would his wife. But then, this wasn’t an ordinary moment for the man.

A few moments later, Colby stopped rowing the boat. It just drifted in the old pond. Husband and wife sat alone in the sway of the boat, looking at each other, smiling and looking around them.

“Why?”

“Shhhh, my dear!” Sarah whispered softly as she gently pressed her index finger against his lips and winked at him.

They spent several moments in silence.

Soon, Sarah’s eyes fixed on a spot in the pond. Her focus lingered. The smile on her pretty lips and the sparkle in her eyes told Colby what she saw, but he asked anyway.

“What? What do you see?”

For a moment she did not answer, she simply soaked in her thoughts of yesterday.

“Us!” she said with a flirtatious grin, without looking directly at him. Her eyes where on that area they both remembered well enough they needed no reminder. “Us, when we were kids.”

Her husband grinned, too, but said nothing.

“You wanna?” she asked, her thin eyebrows dancing with suggestion.

“Are you serious?” her husband replied, first looking at Sarah and then following her sight. He could almost see what she saw, two young teenagers splashing in the swimming pond, doing the forbidden thing that tied them together for life. The way it should be. He could almost see. His eyes scanned the perimeter, just like they did when he was a kid, decades ago, all the way back to the farmhouse, the barn, the barnyard and beyond. “you can’t be serious, Sarah?’

But she was already in the water, “The water’s cold!”

She was waddling outward from the boat, toward the spot. Colby was in the water, swimming toward his wife. Old Shep covered his eyes with his paws and whined from the boat dock. The sounds of music filled their minds and teenagers splashing in water, frolicking through the journey of life together, the alpha and the omega.

Shivering, the married couple hurried back to the farmhouse with Shep far ahead of them. They raced together, for the warmth of the farmhouse kitchen, and a towel to dry themselves with. They were as happy as the teenagers they used to be, and felt just as silly. The autumn water was much colder than the times they used to swim, but all of the life they enjoyed, they had enjoyed again.

“You wanna go into town for a pizza?” Colby suggested after they were in a change of dry cloths, his face beaming with the only moment of joy he had shared with his wife for a long time.

“Only if we can stop for a soft ice cream cone, vanilla dipped in chocolate afterwards,” Sarah giggled. She already had her purse and windbreaker in hand and was heading for the door of the farmhouse.

“No, Shep, not this time,” Colby said, as he tossed Shep a biscuit, which the old dog ignored. Colby squeezed out the door with Shep whining behind him.

Sarah sat next to her husband as they drove toward town, just like she used to when Colby first got his driver’s license and used his father’s truck.

She leaned her head on her husband’s shoulder. “You haven’t taken me in town for pizza and ice cream in years.”

“You are still a thin woman,” Colby said, laughing, “But I’m sure it won’t put too much weight on you.”

The next few months were difficult on the couple. It was more difficult for Colby than it was for Sarah. It fact, it was so hard on Colby; he never spent more than a few moments at a time away from his wife. Too, he never touched a drop of drink. More than two six packs of beer remained in the refrigerator, untouched since the time Sarah had announced to him that she was dying of incurable cancer.

After Sarah’s funeral, Colby sold off the two farms as one. After he lay off his farm hands and gave them a severance bonus, apologizing for their fate, he divided up the income from the sale of the farm and gave equal amounts to Bonnie and Kyle and himself. That of course, was done after he paid off the farm bills, of which were few, since many of the farm bills were paid off years ago. He had finished those beers that remained in the refrigerator during the time he was going over the financial paperwork and scheduling the payoff of remaining loans.

After a visit to the IRS office in a nearby town, Colby was settled with anybody who needed settling with. A short time later, he landed in Las Vegas.

He could now drink twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, if he wanted to. And often he wanted to. And he could gamble as much as he wanted to, for he had plenty of money to do that with. But he really didn’t care about winning money. Money was of no real concern of his. He just wanted something to do, something to take his mind of things. Unpleasant things. And for several years it seemed to work.

Colby was growing old. There wasn’t a time when he didn’t think of his Sarah. There wasn’t a time when he didn’t think of his son, Jake. And there wasn’t a time he didn’t think of Daddy’s little girl, Jennifer, either. But the booze killed his pain and the casinos killed his time. And as time faded, so did his body.

It took almost five years for Colby to run out of money and when he did, he because homeless. But being homeless didn’t bother Colby as long as he had enough money to buy booze to drown in. In Vegas, booze was cheap to drown in. He didn’t much care about gambling, that after all, to Colby was just something to pass the time away with. The good thing about gambling was free booze the casinos gave to the players. And then, there was always that chance he could win big and that could leave him enough to buy more booze.

Colby liked to take the bus down Eastern Avenue and go into the Sunset Park. The sunset park had a huge pond, almost as large as the one back on the farm.

There was lots of smooth, green grass surrounding the pond, too, just like back home.

With a twelve pack of beer, sitting under a shade tree, Colby would feed the wild ducks and geese. He’d think of Sarah and he’d think of Jake and Daddy’s little girl. And he’d drink. And he’d think. And he’d drink and think.

He was homeless for over four years, maybe longer. Sure, it was longer. It was a lot longer. His memory was fading. But he never loss memory of Sarah or Jake or Daddy’s little girl. No, he remembered them just like they were here with him. Just like they were still part of his life.

It was sad, though, Colby had lost Bonnie’s and Kyle’s phone numbers a long time ago. Like he lost a lot of papers he once used to keep close to his heart. He thought it was one time when he had been arrested for vagrancy that he lost those phone numbers of his two surviving children, but he couldn’t be certain now that age was creeping rapidly upon him like a winter storm coming.

Nearly every day now, he’d catch that bus and ride it all the way down Eastern where the airplanes could be seen up close as they landed, or took off from the airport. He enjoyed watching them. Seemed like their where a lot of them. Planes filled with people coming to Vegas to party and planes loaded with people, leaving to go back home again. Lots of them.

The duck pond was his favorite spot in the entire valley. It was a close to being home as Colby could get. Real animals, like on the farm.

One morning before he started drinking, while he was sitting in the park, under his favorite shade tree, watching the water fowl, and looking over the acres of green grass, he said out loud, “Sarah would like this place. I know she would.”

Sometimes, Colby, with his back up against a tree, would look out at the pond and watch the ducks and geese swim around. Sometimes he’d watch them long enough and he’d see Sarah and himself swimming and frolicking on that old pond back home.

Sarah! Sarah! Sarah! He’d call out. Sometimes people walking by would look at him strangely and sometimes their eyes would follow his and look out to the center of the pond. But they could never see what he saw. And sometimes, nice people would slip money in his hands, even though he didn’t ask them to. He’d look at the dollar bills, sometimes five, ten or even twenty and he’d smile and thank them and then say, “God bless you.” And then his eyes would gaze back out toward the pond, Sarah! Sarah! Sarah? It’s me, Colby!

Sarah, come to me, Baby! Come for me! I love you, Sarah! Come for me!

Colby leaned back against the shade tree drinking his beer. Sometimes he sat so long it got warm, but he’d drink it anyway.

The police would come along and arrest Colby and take him to jail. That happened a lot. But it didn’t bother Colby. He’d spend a couple of nights in jail and sometimes a week or even a month, but sooner or later he’d get out and eventually find his way back to Sunset Park with some beer he managed to find a way to buy.

He’d sit there and feed the ducks and geese, and they were growing in family size, and he enjoyed that. Then he’d drink and look out into the pond to see if he could see Sarah come by. Sometimes Colby had to wait a very long time to see Sarah, but then he’d see her. She’d come up out of that pond water with her beautiful body rising up and up and up and the water falling off her back and body and making a big splashing sound. His eyes would grow wide as he watched his wife and he’d wave to her.

Sarah! Sarah! Sarah! And people would walk by thinking he was crazy, but they couldn’t see Sarah like he could. He’d wave to her. Sometimes he was so happy to see her; he stood up and waved to her. Sarah, come to me, Baby! Come for me! I love you, Sarah! Come for me!

But Sarah didn’t seem to see him and that made him sad. Sometimes he would cry.

He’d drink harder and faster and when he had drank too much he’d managed to get up and go walk around the park, thinking he was walking with Sarah. He’d walk all the way to the back of Sunset Park, around the pond, holding hands with Sarah. Way in the back, far from people’s vision, almost as far as the pond back home was from the barn, at the very end of the cow pasture, he stepped into the desert. There was desert shrubbery there where he could hide behind and lay down and crawl up close to the shrubbery without being seen and go to sleep.

In the morning he’d go over to the little store and buy beer and some kind of bread to feed the ducks and geese and pigeons. Sometimes people were mean to him, because they said he “stinks.” But they were just people, and Colby had no business with people anymore. He stopped doing business with people when he sold the farm back home.

Colby would again find his shade tree and sit with his back against it, and he’d drink and talk to the ducks and geese and pigeons. And he had named them all, but he couldn’t remember their names all the times, so he’d just say, “Here duck, here goose, or here ya go, good lookin’ one.” Or something like that.

Colby would spend the greater part of the day, drinking and feeding the fowl before he’d see Sarah rise up out of the water. And to his surprise, one day, she had Daddy’s Little Girl with her. And Jennifer was waving to him and he waved back. Jennifer saw daddy while Sarah had not seen him.

“Hi Daddy!” Pretty little Jennifer yelled, waving cheerfully.

“I’m coming for you, Jennifer! I’m coming for you and mommy!” Colby called as he was on his feet and walking toward the pond, his arms outreached, “I’m coming to get you, Daddy’s little girl! I’m so happy to see—“

Just then Colby feel into the pond and because it was a huge step down, that first step, the water was so deep, he went out of sight.

When he came up, he thought he remembered Daddy’s little girl and Mommy both had wings. White wings. He felt someone pulling on his collar, and he struggled to break free. His eyes were searching for his little girl and his wife, but he saw no one out in the pond.

Good Samaritans in the park had jumped into the water to help Colby, who fought them off, and struggled with them as his only attention was on Jennifer and her mommy. But eventually the strangers managed to bring Colby ashore.

Under the shade tree where the Good Samaritans held Colby’s shoulders, he wept.

“You want us to call someone to come help you, Mister?” One of the young men who helped rescue Colby asked.

Colby shook his head, and said nothing for a long time, “Just leave me alone,” he said, finally.

His privacy was honored. Again he was alone. But now when he looked out across the vast pond he saw no daddy’s little girl, nor her mommy. Thank God, Colby thought, “I’ve got lots of beers left.”

It wasn’t more than an hour or two after that, while Colby was drinking and weeping, a man came along and stood tall in front of him. Colby looked up at the towering man from where he sat with his back against the tree, “Oh, you. I know you.”

“How are you doing, my friend?” the soft voice of the man said, as he stood looking Colby over.

“I’m doing,” Colby nodded.

“Are you hungry?” the man said, as he pulled sandwiches from a black bag he was carrying, “I’ve got sandwiches, ham and cheese or turkey?”

Colby shrugged his shoulders.

“How about one of each?” the tall, well-built man asked, handing two sandwiches to the homeless man sitting under the tree.”

“OK,” Colby said, taking the sandwiches from the tall man’s hand. “Thank you, Father River.”

“You are welcome, Colby,” the tall man said, “Can I sit with you?”

“Sure, why not?” Colby said, patting the lawn next to him, “Want a beer?”

Father River laughed, “No, I think I’ll take a rain check on that, Mr. Colby.”

“Figures,” Colby said, starting into the turkey sandwich and taking sips of beer as he ate it.

“So why are you so wet, Colby?”

“Went for a swim.”

“Did someone push you in?”

“Naw,” Colby said, his chin quivering a little. He turned his face away and continued to eat his sandwich.

Father River said nothing. He just watched Colby as he sat next to the homeless man. He was glad Colby was eating. That was not always the case. Some of these homeless men didn’t eat when he brought food around and that bothered Father River a great deal.

He put his hand on Colby’s boney shoulder. He had noticed how Colby had lost weight and wasn’t looking too well lately. He was growing older and his memory was fading. Father River had tried to get him to come into a program before but Colby always refused. It had been, maybe three or four years, Father River had known Colby, perhaps longer. He could certainly see the old man was fading and he was deeply concerned.

“Is there anything I can do for you, my friend and brother in Christ?”

Colby had finished both of his sandwiches. Father River knew he had been exceedingly hungry. Often, Colby had only finished one, or at best one and a half sandwiches if he took any at all.

A long moment passed, as Father River held his hand on Colby’s shoulder. The old homeless man looked out in the park, and then his eyes turned toward the center of the pond before he turned his body around and sat with his arms down at his sides as if he were surrendering to defeat.

“I wanna go home, Father, I’ve had enough.” Colby said, unable to keep the tears from streaking down his dirty cheeks. He made no effort to wipe them away. His beer can not yet empty sat on the lawn on the other side of him. “I wanna go home.”

“Then come with me,” Father River said, gently, "I have the car today. I’ll take you back to the church and you can get cleaned up and in new cloths. Then I’ll take you to the airport after you get some rest and we’ll fly you home.”

“No,” Colby said, looking into Father River’s eyes, “Not tonight. Come for me tomorrow. Will you come for me tomorrow? I’m ready to go home.”

“Sure, I’ll come for you tomorrow.”

“I wanna…I wanna spend the night with Sarah and my little ones.”

“I understand,” Father River nodded. He was well aware of Sarah and Colby’s children. He also knew how Colby would see them in the pond. Father River, closed his fingers around the boney area of Colby’s shoulder and prayed for Colby to Jesus Christ, “In the name of Jesus Christ, Son of God, I pray this man, Colby, can be removed from suffering, and that You will have mercy upon him, Lord Jesus. Please, Lord, remove his pain and suffering and guide him to Your safety.”

Father River formed the sign of the cross on his figure and said, “Amen.”

“Amen,” Colby whispered, “Thank you, Father River, I appreciated that.”

“I’ll be back in the morning for you, Colby.” Father River said, as he rose to his feet. “You want another sandwich before I go?”

Colby just shook his head.

“Well, then you better be getting back in the desert. It’s almost closing time in the park, and you don’t want anyone to see you here after dark.”

Colby nodded, and Father River helped him to his feet, and then patted him on the shoulders.

The sun was setting in Sunset Park.

Colby picked up his beer and started for his bedding ground deep in the desert in the back of the park. As he staggered, his eyes roamed over the pond.

Father River watched him until he was on the other side of the pond, fading deep into the desert and finally disappearing behind thick desert shrub.

Father River continued to pray for the old, lonely homeless man. Over the years Colby had told Father River his story. But it wasn’t easy learning of his life. Colby like most of the other homeless people in Las Vegas, pretty much kept to himself and kept his life to himself as well. But Father River understood the unspoken words of the homeless.

The next morning when Father River pulled his sedan into the parking lot of Sunset Park, an ambulance and two police cars where there with their emergency lights flashing.

He saw the paramedics and the patrolmen near the tree where Colby always sat under. He raced on foot toward the area, ducks and geese scattering as he ran. He was wearing his clergy cloths as he intended to take Colby back to the church with him that morning.

“He’s passed on to the Great Sleep,” Officer McMinn, said as Father River reached Colby’s shade tree. Colby sat there, his eye open and a smile on his face as he appeared to be looking out toward the center of the pond. He was dead, it was obvious. The paramedics were preparing the stretcher, and before they could reach to close Colby’s eyes, Father River reached down and placed his hand on Colby’s cold, boney shoulders and said a prayer. Then he formed the sign of the cross on his person before stepping back to allow the paramedics to do their work.

“He’s going home to be with his Sarah and his little ones,” Father River said, “He’s going home to be with the Lord.”

“This was in his hand when we arrived,” one of the police officers said, handing Father River a note. He read it: “Father River, Please contact my daughter, Mrs. Bonnie Davenport, and my son, Kyle Hall. I wish to be buried next to my wife, Sarah and with my two children, Jake and Jennifer in the family cemetery on Sugar Hill. Thank you for being there for me, Father River, Your Brother in Christ, Colby Hall.”

Taking a note pad from his breast pocket and a pen, Father River jotted down the names and badge numbers of the paramedics and police officers, and then handed each of them his card.

“I’ll make the funeral arrangements,” Father River announced, “Please have your superiors contact me before this afternoon.”

The paramedics moved Colby’s body to the ambulance and closed the back doors before leaving Sunset Park.

The patrolmen shook hands with the priest and then returned to their cruisers and left, too.

By that afternoon Father River would need to use the search engines and locate Colby’s surviving children. If he had any difficulties, he would consult the church attorneys, but he was certain he’d be successful himself.

Father River sat in Colby’s spot under the shade tree and looked out toward the center of the pond and prayed for Colby.

He heard a splashing sound and as he looked out over the pond, he saw something caused his breath to turn heavy. Then he relaxed, as he witnessed the most incredible sign the Lord had ever sent him. There above the water were four angles, two adult-size ones and two the size of children. Their white wings were slowly fanning, causing the water to ripple. The four great white angels appeared to be waving at him, and he knew Colby had made it home. Then the angels raised high above the pond and blended in with the white clouds like great big scoops of melting ice cream.

Father River waved out over the pond and up toward the sky, never even caring if anyone was watching him. “So long my friend. And thank you, Father. Praise the Lord.”

The sun was just coming up at Sunset Park.

8,186 First Draft

Author's Note: My friend, a homeless man, whose name and life created the conception for this story, died on the streets of Las Vegas after the first draft of this story was written. He was a murder victim who died in one of the top ten most dangerous neighborhoods in America.