What If. . .
Jolene and I rode into unknown territory uncertain of what to do. The top was down on my Dad’s Pontiac. Music from Star Wars blasted into the chilled air. Weathered faces standing in parched fields turned our way as we drove through tribal lands.
We rounded a bend and saw the red light guarded by eight houses and a Post Office. Most had been white once. Others are blue or gray. An American flag fluttered in front of the Post Office, propelled by a light breeze. Colored leaves, waiting for the inevitable, clung to every last moment.
We both knew what was coming next, or what should come next, but neither of us wanted to be the one to say it.
The light changed to green. We remained silent. I reached over and put my hand on Jolene’s. She didn’t push it away. A motorcyclist roared past us and yelled something I couldn’t understand. I gripped the steering wheel with both hands and continued our journey.
We were young. Too young for what our bodies were suggesting. It didn’t help that we lived miles apart and went to different high schools.
Back at her house, I walked Jolene to her door as a gentleman should. She hugged me, her tears leaving wet spots on my collar. I didn’t look at her as I walked away. I couldn’t.
What I’ve told you so far happened a long time ago. Since then, I married Pam, my college sweetheart, fathered three children, spoiled five grandchildren, and felt lost when Pam passed away last year after fifty-two years of marriage.
I told her once about that last day when Jolene and I broke up. Pam told me I should try to connect with Jolene again. I haven’t and don’t plan to. Still, Jolene appears in my mind sporadically, and I wonder what if. . ..
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Bio:
Jim Harrington lives in Huntersville, NC, with his wife and two dogs. His stories have appeared in Every Day Fiction, Defenestration, Long Story Short, MicroHorror, and others. Jim's Six Questions For . . . blog (http://sixquestionsfor.blogspot.com/) provides editors and publishers a place to “tell it like it is.” You can read more of his stories at http://jpharrington.blogspot.com.