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Before the Mellowing YearSerial #13byJeffrey AndersonCopyright 2016 by Jeffrey AndersonReading and Recipes EditionALL RIGHTS RESERVEDNo part of this manuscript may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without express permission of the author.This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.Before the Mellowing YearSerial #13BostonIt was a beautiful Saturday in mid-October and Zach and Allison decided to play at being regular Bostonians. Two months into their stay, they were after all official residents. They had an apartment where they received mail; they had jobs and a local joint checking account, paid taxes, were registered to vote. They cheered for the Red Sox (their season recently ended as runner-up, again, to the Yankees) and the Celtics (Zach got to park Red Auerbach’s car at the Club) and the Bruins. They’d quickly adopted the long “ahhh” sound for the phonetic “ar.” They ate corned beef and cabbage on days other than St. Patty’s (if it was on sale at Star Market) and jostled with the best of them in Filene’s Basement. So after a breakfast of French toast and bacon, they put on light jackets against the morning chill and strode confidently out into the crystal clear morning for a meandering stroll through their new hometown. Zach led the way down the path on the mall in the middle of Comm. Ave., giving a wide berth to the occasional homeless men curled up on the park benches. He turned and walked backwards—skipped backwards!—as he smiled at Allison following him at a brisk pace. They both felt a swell of energy, born of the crisp and brilliant day, their youth, and a sense that maybe after years of planning they’d found a home that was genuinely their own.They crossed Arlington hand-in-hand, swaying their joined arms wildly back and forth then in a full circle, twining and twisting their fingers, daring the other to cry out or let go—but neither would. They entered The Gardens and jogged together up the near-side slope of the arched bridge. Zach had long since forgotten or suppressed the memory of crossing that bridge on the fog-shrouded night weeks earlier, replacing that recollection with those of numerous crossings since. But just as they reached the peak of the arch he recalled the couple from that night in their kiss of oblivion on the crest of the arch. So he stopped suddenly in that same spot on this very different occasion, almost jerked Allison’s arm out of its shoulder socket with the surprise pause, and pulled her tight to him and kissed her cold lips. Her eyes never shut—remained wide with shock and wonder—and so therefore neither did his; and the kiss lasted only a couple seconds as a family with a stroller and a dog on a leash nearly ran them over. But for Zach at least the brief and spontaneous gesture achieved its purpose—a wager on the promise of youth and love. For Allison it was the latest example of unpredictability—albeit a pleasant one—from this man whom she’d thought she knew but now realized was a total mystery—maybe always had been one, or maybe had been made one by their new life and circumstances. In any case she buried her foreboding under the optimism of the day and the taste of maple syrup he’d left on her lips, and ran down the far side of the bridge with her unpredictable husband in hot pursuit.They skipped the heart of downtown with its famous department stores and streets already crowded despite the early hour, and cut across The Common to The Statehouse and along a short leg of the Freedom Trail and on to Government Center. The broad plaza was nearly empty on this weekend morning though a work crew was setting up a small stage for a free concert later in the afternoon. They sat on one of the cold stone benches and watched the workers bolting together the tubular steel framing. Though the bench was cold, the sun was warm and they were invigorated from their brisk walk. They shed their jackets and tied them around their waists like school children waiting at the bus stop. They put their arms behind them and leaned back against the bench, exposing the full length of their bodies to the sun climbing the sky over the Harbor.“It’s Opening Day of hunting season,” Zach said casually.“Here?”“I don’t know about in Massachusetts. I meant back home.” “You miss it,” Allison said—a statement, not a question. Zach lived for Opening Day, more than Thanksgiving and Christmas and New Year’s and his birthday combined. It’d been his special day, long as she’d known him.Zach shrugged. “I guess—more last night than today. It’s hard to want to be anywhere other than here today.” He looked over at Allison with an earnest stare.Allison took a deep breath. “I’m not sure I’m able to replace Opening Day.”“Oh, you’re more than able. But are you willing?”It was Allison’s turn to stare in earnest. “Zach, I can only be who I am.”“And who’s that?”“The girl you’ve known the last four years—no more, no less.”“Good enough so far.”“In Dover.”Zach jumped up. “Too pretty a day to talk about this,” he said as he skipped backwards across the plaza, his eyes never leaving hers.She thought, Opening Day was simpler, before standing finally and following her husband, who had stopped and was waiting for her in the middle of the empty plaza.They walked around behind City Hall and down to the restored warehouses of Quincy Market. The little shops and boutiques, craft kiosks and food court of these brick buildings were more suited to tourists than locals, and thus weren’t very crowded this early in the day. Zach and Allison were happy to play tourist for a few minutes after being staid residents for the bulk of the morning. After browsing a bookstore and a souvenir shop, Allison ducked into a boutique of trendy women’s clothing on an East Indian theme—all bright colors and flowing loose designs. She held up a long cotton skirt in a dark burgundy and rich gold pattern, then matched it with a simple turquoise blouse with puffy sleeves. Zach smiled and nodded. “Try it on.”Allison looked doubtful. “You sure? Even if it fits, we can’t afford it.”“Try it on,” he repeated.She smiled and scooted into the lone changing room at the back of the narrow store.As Zach stood among those brightly colored clothes staring out at the nearby atrium with the day’s sun streaming through the skylights and painting everything, himself included, in its brilliance, he felt for the briefest moment that he was blessed. And in that instant he knew that the blessing came from outside him, was somehow tied to the day and the strangers wandering past and the colors and the exotic smells of the many foods cooking nearby. “Zach,” Allison whispered from behind him.He turned and saw the loveliest site he’d seen since the day they were married—Allison in the skirt and blouse that fit her perfectly, accented her tall thin body, the colors complementing and highlighting her auburn hair and dark eyes and fair skin. But more beautiful than the outfit and the lovely body within it was the shine in her eyes, the glow to her cheeks as she smiled shyly before his gaze. He suddenly understood more fully the source of his external blessing. He nodded to her questioning look. “An early Christmas present.”“You sure? We’ve barely got our heads above water.”He nodded emphatically. “I made good tips last night. We’re fine.” That statement was a bit of an exaggeration, but he wanted her to have the beautiful outfit and could make up the money somewhere.She giggled to herself and fairly danced back into the dressing room.Zach wondered where that joy and innocence had been hiding lately.They made a lunch of two grilled Italian sausages (Zach’s coated with onions and peppers) on crusty home-made rolls and real lemonade with lemon slices in tall paper cups. After eating they strolled under the Southeast Expressway with its tractor trailers rumbling the I-beams and suspended concrete slabs. Zach gave Allison a little hug and shouted over the roar, “How romantic!” Allison’s laugh was inaudible. They jogged across a surprisingly busy Atlantic Ave. and over to the Aquarium. The day was too pretty to spend it inside the Aquarium’s dim spiral walk, and besides they couldn’t afford the admission. So they spent a few minutes watching the surprisingly human antics of the three harbor seals in the pool at that moment—their barking and waving of flippers and big soulful dark eyes gazing back at the gazers.Zach said, “Let me show you my secret spot.”Allison looked at him warily.“Don’t worry—it’s safe, at least to the body.”She smiled. “Do I need to close my eyes this time?”He laughed. “Not this time, and the only lemons today are in our cups.” He held his up, empty of lemonade but with the bottom covered by lemon slices.“In that case, lead on.”Zach led her around the side of the Aquarium. In the midday light, the harbor seemed unusually placid and serene, the sun shining brightly on the white condominiums under construction across the bay, along the North End’s waterfront. Gulls bobbed on the gentle swells and a couple sailboats ventured out from shore, their striped sails vivid against the blue background.They came around the back side of the Aquarium and Zach took her to the middle of that abandoned stretch and walked to the edge of the pier with the thick rope strung between two pilings at waist height the only defense against falling in the deep water. He turned to her and waited.She gazed across the bright harbor toward the airport. “And?”“And what?”“And is there something more? Something I’m missing?”He followed her gaze across the water. The wind was out of the north this morning, bringing in the cool clean Canadian air; so the planes were approaching, rather than taking off, over the Aquarium, their engines in a relatively quiet high-pitched idle, their lumbering fuselage almost graceful in slow descent. The narrow stretch of pier was in full light, the sun not yet fallen behind the building. And the normally stinking bay smelled almost pristine in the clear autumnal air, with just a hint of the salt smell of the sea. Far from being the desolate armpit of the city, this previously forlorn spot was quite enticing at this moment on this day, would’ve been a nice quiet spot for a picnic if they hadn’t already eaten their lunch at Quincy Market. “A little hideaway,” he said finally.“Pretty, I guess. Kind of quiet, kind of industrial.” She looked over her shoulder at the monolithic unadorned back wall of the Aquarium.“It’s always quiet, and usually not nearly so pretty. That’s why I like it.”“Because it’s ugly?”“And lonely.”“And so far away.”“Practically the end of the earth.”Allison stared at him. “Why would you come to an ugly lonely place that’s so far away on purpose?”He gazed on her loveliness and could not for the life of him come up with an answer to her seemingly simple question that wasn’t simple at all. “I don’t know. Sometimes it’s just where I need to be.”“Today?”“Today you are where I need to be.”She knew she should feel pleased and honored by this heartfelt declaration; but the need inside his voice, the need within his whole being these last two months blocked such a response. She felt the declaration as more weight when she needed less, needed more freedom and space to let her own life unfold. She loved Zach but she couldn’t possibly carry him, not now anyway, maybe not ever. “And where I need to be is somewhere with a few more people and a little more activity.”Zach nodded, not in the least troubled by her tepid response to his secret hideaway and his simple avowal. In fact, he’d expected as much, on both offerings. But the bright day and this time together not fighting or tense or estranged was enough to keep his spirits buoyant, for the moment. “Where to?”“Can we swing by Filene’s on our way home? I need to get Mary a little something for her birthday.”“Lead on.”And she did, around the far end of the Aquarium and toward the crowded streets of the shopping district. Above another passenger jet fell from the sky, finding its way home on the perfect day. ................
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