What I Can't Recall

"I don't wanna forgive Ellie," I protest once we‘re back in the car, and well on our way back home. We‘ve been having the same argument for the past fifteen minutes.

"And why not? It's not like you even remember why you're mad at her," he points out, and I remain silent, because he's right. I have no clue why I'm mad at Ellie. I vaguely remember her saying something about Bryler, but that's it. I curse myself for having such bad memory.

"Fine," I say under my breath, finally giving up. "But first we have to stop by Old Man William's house. I've got to get something if we‘re gonna do this."

"Old Man William?" Jake questions, raising an eyebrow, and I realize how weird that probably sounded. “Who the hell is that?”

"My neighbor," I explain quickly, noticing we’re basically almost to my house. "Though I was the one mad at Ellie, I can promise you she'll be mad at me. I'm gonna have get something from him to make her forgive me."

"Oh, okay," he says, sounding as if he doesn't understand, but not questioning what I mean "And where exactly does he live?"

"Just right across the street from my house," I say. "It'll take about two minutes to get there from here. Ellie will just have to wait."

Jake took a sharp turn left, and I sit in silence for the rest of the two minutes car ride, trying to figure out what I should say to Ellie. She's always been very stubborn and doesn't easily forgive. When we finally get to Old Man William's house, I have a vague idea of what I'll say.

“Should I stay in the car or come in?” Jakes asks hesitantly as I reach to open the door.

“Just whatever you want to do,” I tell him. “It doesn’t matter to me. You might wanna come inside, though. It could take a few minutes.”

I get out of the car and make my way up the walk way to the front porch, and shortly after I hear Jake follow after me.

It's a very old looking house, probably the oldest in the whole neighborhood. The color’s starting to fade and the front porch's wood is old and cracked and looks like it might give way if someone a ounce too heavy steps on it.

There is a porch swing that Mr. William made himself- back in his younger years- and I've spent so many summer afternoons sitting on it next to Bryler while Mr. William told us stories about the war that it’s ridiculous .
As I make my way to the door, the wood creaks under me. I knock on the door loudly, knowing his hearing isn't well and it takes a very loud noise to get his attention.

After a few seconds, I can hear his slow steps coming towards the door. He opens it, slowly revealing himself. It’s been about two months since I’ve seen him, and he actually does look somewhat different.

His gray hair is beginning to turn white, and it seems as if he's shrunk since I've seen him last; I'm almost taller than him, which is saying a lot for a man who used to be six feet tall. He has those same far away brown eyes; the ones that you can tell have seen sights you'd never want to see. His left arm remains hanging limply by his side; it was hurt in the war. He has a warm smile on his face, in spite of everything.

"September!" He says, his smile growing even wider upon realizing it’s me. "Come in, come in. What brings you here?"

I walk in, and I’m instantly relieved. It's a lot cooler inside his house, and it's so good to be in such a familiar surrounding. I take a seat in the chair in his living room, and he sits across from me on the couch. Jake remains standing by the door awkwardly, looking unsure about what to do next.

"Ellie is mad at me," is all I have to say as an explanation for Old Man William to understand.

"Ah," he says getting up. He slowly shuffles to the back room, then moments later comes back with something in his hand. To someone else it would just look like an old, long string with beads on it a young child made, but to me it's a huge part of my childhood. He hands it to me with a knowing smile.

"So what've you gone and done this time?" He asks, sitting back down slowly. I can hear Jake rocking back and forth on the heels of his feet; he’s obviously in a hurry. I ignore that fact.

"Actually, I was mad at her," I say, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Over something that I can't even remember, but you know Ellie."

"They got in a fight over Bryler being in love with September," Jake says with smirk, glad to be able to speak up in the conversation. I wish he’d come inside, because standing there with the door open is just letting the cool air out. But I don’t say anything.

"Did he finally tell you?" Mr. Willaim asked, looking quite pleased. "Good for him."

"No," I said, throwing a mean look at Jake, "He didn't tell me anything."

"Shame," he says under his breath. "That boy is such a wimp when it comes to you."
I don’t even want to know what he means by that.

"I agree," Jake says with a sly grin, making his way into the conversation again. "He needs to toughen up and just tell her how he feels."

"That's what I've been telling him for years," he says, glad that someone is finally agreeing with him about something and look keen on having a whole conversation about it. "But he just won't listen. If he doesn't hurry up, some other boy's is gonna snatch her away from him. She's such a pretty darlin', isn‘t she? Refuses to believe it, though." I’m pretty sure by this point I’m redder than some actually red. I blush too easily.

"That she is a pretty darlin’," Jake agrees with a grin, obviously finding amusement in the conversation. "I'm surprised no one has yet. Snatched her up, I mean."

"Anyways," I say, abruptly changing the course of the conversation. "Thanks for the Fight Bracelet. I'll be back with it later."

"Bye honey," says Mr. William with a smile as he stands up to walk us to the door, slowly. Once in the doorway he kisses me on the cheek and then goes back inside.

Jake and I make our way back to the car, not really saying anything until we‘re both in and buckled up- well, I‘m buckled up anyways.

"So," Jake says casually as he backs up out of the driveway. "What's a 'Fight Bracelet'? Do you guys realize it’s not even a bracelet? It's a huge string with a bunch of beads on it."

"When Ellie and I were younger, we got in fights a lot," I say, starting what I know is going to be a long explanation. "So Old Man William came up with an idea. Every time we got in a fight, he'd go and get the Fight Bracelet. We had to put a new bead on the string every time we got in a fight. And each time we'd have to go through and name one good time we'd have together for every bead on the string. So by the time we were all done naming the good times, we'd be laughing and usually have forgotten why we were mad in the first place. He keeps in on display in his room. He says if we ever stop getting into fights, he'll tie it up and make it a real bracelet."

"That's smart of him," he says. “I wonder where he came up with the idea. And what he intends on doing with the world’s largest bracelet when you two ever actually do stop fighting.”

“He probably just made the whole idea up, but if you ask him he’ll say he got it from something that happened in the war,” I tell Jake knowingly. “I’ve heard like ten billion stories about the war from him. I’m pretty sure only about half of them were true.”

“How old is he?“ Jakes asks, and I figure it’s his own way of trying to figure out exactly what war I’d be talking about.

“I’m not exactly sure,“ I say. “Old. I know that much.“

We pull into Ellie's driveway as I finish my sentence, and Jake just nods his head in reply, though it doesn‘t really tell me what he means. A nod could mean anything.

Ellie is sitting crisscrossed on her front porch, holding her dog Scamp in her hands. I take a deep breath and get out of the car, making my way up her driveway to sit next to her on her porch. I set the Fight Bracelet between us on the ground.

"You know the drill," I say. She looks up at me with a slight smile, and picks up the bracelet.
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I knock on Old Man William’s door once again. It's two hours later and it's been arranged that I'm going to the movies later with Ellie and then she'll probably spend the night. Needless to say, we were back to being friends again. The Fight Bracelet always did that.

Jake, of course, had sat there in his car the whole time and listened to every last one of our memories. He didn’t seem to get bored, though. He seemed to find them interesting, he spent a majority of the time smiling; something he rarely does. All in all, it was a pretty good afternoon.

I once again listen to Old Man William’s steps growing closer to the door, and see his old smiling face open it. "How'd it go?" He asks, ushering me inside, but instead of turning from the little waiting area right outside his door into the living room, he guides me in the direction of the hallway that leads to the kitchen.

"It went well," I say vaguely, handing him the bracelet, only to have him shake his head ‘no’ and hand them back to me.

"You'll have to take it," he explains. “And you'll need to go around the back way. I've got company."

"Okay," I says, and instead of going into his living room, I walk down the hallway and take a left, making my way through the kitchen to get to his room. I set the bracelet on his dresser carefully and quietly. I can hear voices coming from his living room. Though far away sounding, I can still easily tell what they're saying.

"Who was that?" A voice asks. It's a guy, obviously. He’s not old like I would have assumed. It’s a young voice. Probably a teenager or someone in their early twenties at the very maximum.

"September," Old Man William answers, and I hear him slowly take his seat; obviously in his favorite rocking chair. I can tell by the creaking sound I hear.

"Of course," the other person says with a sigh. "I just can't escape her, can I?"

"Why don't you jus’ tell her, boy?" He wants to know. “It’d be so much easier than all of this, I‘m tellin’ you.”

"I tried. She won't believe me. And come to find out, it's just turned into a game. Some other guy's trying to win her over, too,” the guy says, and it’s apparent to me now who he is, and what he’s talking about. “And I honestly am starting to think she doesn’t want either of us. Or even worse, she wants him instead of me.”

"Fighting over a broken heart, you two are," Old Man William says disapprovingly, clicking his tongue. "That's been known to a break a heart or two itself."

I quietly walk down the hallway and peer into the living room. Bryler is sitting on the couch next to Old Man William. Just what I thought.
"I know," he says solemnly. "But she's worth it.”