Fully Lived

Wavy golden strands fell softly around her pale face as she sat under the old maple. A small laugh would escape her every now and again as she flipped the pages of the book. Her forehead wrinkled slightly as she came to a part of the book that he assumed troubled her. He didn’t ask. The truth was he was trying to stay hidden.

Michael pulled his worn brown hat down closer to his green eyes as he adjusted his position in the tree. He had been up there when she’d walked down from her house, still dressed in her Sunday clothes and a book in hand. If someone found out he was in the tree watching her, it would surely be his head. Mr. Mills was a very protective man when it came to his daughter and with him being the son of the man’s maid, things didn’t look so well for him. It wasn’t that Mr. Mills was a tyrant, he just had certain biases, such as his well to do daughter shouldn’t mingle with a lowly servant’s son.

“I know you’re there, Michael.” Her voice reached his ears, startling him enough that he had to steady himself from falling. All was silent for a moment, except for the sound of the wind rustling the summer leaves.

“There’s no one here.” She laughed. Acknowledging that his cover was blown, he hopped down from the branch and landed beside her.

“You know you remind me of Dickon.” She told him as he sat down beside her. It was obvious the comment was lost on him; from the look he gave her.

“Who?”

“You know, Dickon, from The Secret Garden.” Now he knew, but only partially. He looked away, allowing a couple tufts of brown hair to fall over his tanned forehead.

“I haven’t read it. We can’t really afford books.”

“Oh, but Daddy’s library. Surely you’ve been in there.” He shook his head.

“I mostly stay outside, make sure Ma doesn’t lose her job ‘cause of me.”

“Yeah, because you’re so bad.” Sparkling green eyes met blue.

“Wouldn’t you like to know Miss Elizabeth Mills.” He said before stealing her book and taking off for the hills. Ignoring all the propriety that she’d been taught, she got up and took after him.

They landed several minutes later in the fresh grass, trying to catch their breaths.

“You’re not so bad you know that. Daddy just worries.”

“Why shouldn’t he? Someone like me could never do you any good.” She didn’t say anything to that. He assumed that she just agreed with what he’d said. He was pleasantly surprised when her hand crept over into his. Neither one said anything as they looked up at the passing clouds. It was a summer of dreams.
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“Where are we going, Michael?” Kathy asked, her voice slightly strained as he held tightly to her hand. The grin on his face only grew.

“Oh, you’ll see Miss O’Mally.” There was ten-dollar bill burning a hole in his pocket. It’s what was left of his pay from the factory after going to get a drink, or two. It wasn’t enough to take her to a fancy dinner, but it was enough to get a dinner that was better than what the tavern on Main St. served.

“This better not be another one of your stupid investments.” He cringed slightly. It was true that he had a bad habit of putting money into things that tended to fail. It wasn’t entirely his fault; he just wanted to make an extra buck in the barely recovering economy.

“I promise, it’s not. You’ll be happy this time.” She smiled slightly.

“I better be Mr. Jenkens or you’re in trouble.” He brought an arm around her waist and looked up into the windows of each place they passed, looking for the inn his friend had told him about.

“How ‘bout this?” They had stopped in front of the Town Inn. The lights coming from the inside, showed people laughing and talking over warm plates of food.

“You better not be joking.” He chuckled.

“I’m not. We got a slight bonus this week, figured I’d treat you to something special, you are my girl after all.” He was momentarily stunned into a delighted silence as she threw her arms around his neck and pressed her ruby lips against his naturally pale ones. After the momentary stun had dissolved, he deepened the kiss and pulled her close to him. In a wave of passion he was pushed against the wall of the inn as his hand wove its way through her long, auburn locks.

It was through the clearing of someone’s throat that they were brought back to reality. A blush crept up both of their cheeks as they looked over at an older couple. The woman turned up her head before walking away. The graying man shook his head as he smiled. He looked over at Michael and winked before following after his disgruntled wife.

“Behave, Michael.” Kathy told him with a grin, as she gently whacked his arm before stepping into the inn. He watched her walk in, shocked for a second before shaking his head. A day wasn’t complete without her doing something like that. That’s why it was easy to see why she was the one.
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“Daddy.” A small voice called out as Michael pulled the old pickup into the drive. He instantly picked up the small child the moment he parked the car.

“How’s my little man?”

“Good. Guess what I did today?” he smiled at the boy’s happy nature. The boy had always been happy, even as a baby.

“What’d you do today?” He carried the boy into the house as James went on about all that he’d done while his daddy was at work. James had inherited his mother’s freckled skin and auburn hair, while he had Michael’s eyes.

The five year old had come five years after he and Kathy had married. He was their second child. Michael Jr. was nine and very much his mother’s son, despite his looks. He was spitting image of his namesake. The boy always knew how to say something that would surprise everyone, including his parents.

“You had quite the day.” He commented as his son stopped talking. From scraping his knee to catching frogs in the pond, Michael was sure the boy would sleep through the night.

“Yup. Hey, Daddy, when’s ‘the little joy’ coming?” he asked using the phrase Michael and Kathy often used in reference to the upcoming newest member of the family. He smiled.

“December, James. The baby will be like a little Christmas present.”

“What will you name it?”

“Joy if it’s a girl, John if it’s a boy.” Kathy said, wiping her hands on her apron, as she walked into the sitting room where the two sat..

“Where’s Mike?” Michael questioned, noticing the absence of his eldest son.

“Out back. He hadn’t quite finished his chores.” She told him as she rested a hand on her bulging stomach.

“And how are you feeling today?” he asked as he placed his warm hand over hers.

“Well enough. She’s been kicking today.” Kathy had taken to calling the baby a girl only a couple weeks earlier, claiming that it just felt like a girl. Michael secretly hoped she was right. He dearly loved his sons, but he wanted a little girl.

“She’ll be chasing her brothers around before we know it.” Kathy laughed.

“I think you’re right.”

“Ma, is dinner ready. I’m hungry.” They turned to see Mike walking in, dirt covering his hands and small spots on his face. The kid had been planting.

“Finish your chores?” she asked with her hands on her hips. She was very much the mother.

“Yes.” Michael could hear the whine in the nine year old’s voice.

“Alright, go wash up. Supper will be on the table in two minutes.”

The family of four gathered around the table, each one holding another’s hand. Bowing their heads, Michael began to pray.

“Heavenly Father, we thank you for this food which we are about to receive and for allowing another day of life. And we especially thank you for the blessing of family and for the little one on the way. Amen.” With his hand resting on Kathy’s stomach, he felt the baby kick as he finished the prayer.
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The sun beat down on the back of his neck as he brought a sponge over the hood of his truck. It was a newer one than he’d had before and despite having quandaries about getting rid of the old truck, the newer one ran better, taking him safely to the shipping yard every day so he could earn the family wages. Money was a little tighter now, with Mike off to college, he’d lost a hand around the farm. Of course that wasn’t the only reason he wanted Mike back, but it sure was at the forefront of his mind some days. Like today. He looked over at the two acres of field. It wasn’t a lot, barely a farm really, but he didn’t have time to run an actual farm, what with working at the shipping yard and all. Some days he just wanted to quit though. The thought of taking one of those ships and just taking off was very appealing. He couldn’t leave his job, it just wasn’t sensible. He was forty-five, too old to take off on foolish whims.

“Daddy, watcha thinkin’ about?” the voice of his twelve year old daughter brought him back to reality.

“Just thinkin’ that your daddy’s old.” She giggled and shook her head. Two long red braids bounced on the sides of her head.

“You’re not old.”

“You sure about that?” he questioned as he lightly tapped the edge of her freckled nose. Joy was a spitting image of her mother and he knew he would have to pull out the shotgun and start worrying once she started back at school.

“Yes. Now come on, Ma’s got lunch on the table.” She took his hand and he dropped the sponge into the bucket.

A pitcher of ice tea sat on the table underneath the oak tree. A pile of tomato and chicken salad sandwiches seemed to call to Michael.

“You gonna sit or are you just going to watch it all day?” Kathy asked, laughter in her voice.

“We missing someone?” Michael asked as he looked over at the unnoccupied spot next to Joy.

“He’ll be here soon. I think he’ll be bringing Mary with him.” Michael nodded as he grabbed a sandwich.

“I like her, she’s one of the good ones.”

“You think he’ll marry her?” Joy asked as she looked up from the book she’d brought to the table with her. Kathy clapped Michael on the back as he coughed from having inhaled the bite of sandwich he’d taken. That was not a topic he’d expected to discuss, especially not with his daughter. He was used to boys who didn't want to bring up girls, not at her age anyways.

“Do you want him to?” Kathy asked, a smile gracing her aging features. Time had treated her well. She’d gained a couple more curves since first meeting Michael and having three kids had given her a couple lines around her face, although not all were from worry. A third of the lines were most assuredly from antics the children, and on occasion her husband, had pulled causing her to laugh. Michael found her more beautiful than the day they met. He often told her she was more beautiful than the up and coming Audrey Hepburn.

“Yeah, she’s really like a sister. She doesn’t treat me like the others he’s dated. She actually talks to me.” The three looked toward the drive at the sound of a car coming down the dirt drive.

“That’s probably them now.” Kathy wiped her hands as she stood up from the table. She paused when she noticed that it wasn’t James’ truck, but the sheriff’s cruiser.

“It’s Dan. I’ll see what he wants.” Kathy sat while Michael got up from the table. She watched Sheriff Dan Banner get out of the cruiser, dressed pristinely in his uniform. He was a little older than her husband and stood a couple inches shorter, which she put down to being because of his hefty weight.

“Mom, what are they talking about?” Dan and Michael were a good hundred feet away from them, obviously discussing something serious. Kathy watched as Michael’s face went from shock, to anger, and then finally to nothing. The twisting in her stomach was a definite sign of the worry she was feeling.

Dan placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze before getting back in his cruiser. Green eyes watched as the man pulled out the drive before turning to see two members of his family watching him. What was he going to tell them? Joy was going to be heartbroken for sure as would Kathy. Then what about Mike, should they ask him to come home? He ran a hand through his graying hair and over his neck. He had to tell them now.

“Everything alright, honey?” Kathy asked as he walked up to the table. The look he gave her was grave. She took his hand. Eyes cast down, looking at her fingers entwined with his; he ran his thumb over her simple, white gold wedding band. It was all he could afford at the time. They were so in love though that it didn’t matter, all they wanted was to be married.

“Daddy, what’s wrong?” Joy brought him back to the present, where the world was starting to crash down around him. Her face was twisted into unease.

“Joy, Kathy. Sheriff Banner had some news.” He started slowly. This wasn’t something he wanted to be doing. They looked at him, expectant. With his right hand entwined with Kathy’s, he reached over with his other hand and took Joy’s hand from the table and held on to it.

“James and Mary were in an accident.” Two separate hands tightened around his own.

“Are they alright?” Kathy questioned instantly.

“James is in the hospital, Dan didn’t know how exactly he was doing.” He was attempting to keep his voice as steady as possible.

“What about Mary?” fear crept into Joy’s voice, making it smaller than ever.

“Mary, Mary…didn’t make it. Dan said she was dead by the time they got there.” Joy wrenched her hand from his as tears started to fall from her eyes.

“No, no, she’s not dead. She can’t be.” Michael tried to reach out to her, but she only stood up forcefully from the table.

“Joy…”

“No.” she sobbed as she tore away from the table. Michael made to get up, but Kathy put a gentle hand on his arm.

“I’ll get her, you get the keys.” Tears fell down her face, dropping onto the fabric of her dress. She remained calm though, the anchor in the midst of a storm.

The ride to the hospital was silent. The radio had been turned off the minute he’d started the engine. Any extra noise would’ve surely set him off.

The room was stark and Joy leaned into her father as she set eyes on the still, unconscious form of her usually lively brother. Kathy was the first to move as she went over and pushed locks of auburn away from his pale forehead. She placed a kiss on his head before moving to adjust the covers so he wouldn’t get cold. Taking his hand she sat down in the chair that the hospital had provided.

“Will he be alright?” Joy asked as she stood at the foot of his bed. Michael’s arm was wrapped around her as he looked at his youngest son.

“He will be.” The doctors had spoken with him when they’d first come in. James would survive, but he’d have to live the rest of his life using a cane. The car had broken his leg in such a way that it had no chance of healing properly.

He and Joy went over to the other side of the bed and he took the boy’s other hand. Needles were placed his hand, keeping him on a drug that would help with the pain. He thumbed over them, being careful not to disturb the needles. The storm of crisis would come to an end once he woke up.
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The smells of turkey wafted through the house as Lennon sang “Happy Christmas” over the radio. It wasn’t Michael’s first choice in Christmas music, but then again he hadn’t chosen it, one of the boys had.

James and Mike sat on the couch, discussing the conflict over in Vietnam and whether or not it would soon come to an end. Mike’s son, Kevin, had just barely missed the draft, having turned 18 at the very end of it. Several of his friends hadn’t been so lucky and one had already died leaving Kevin with the sting of death. After the death of his first friend, he’d decided to do something that might help prevent future wars. He became a political science major.

A paper was stretched out in front of Michael, opened to the sports section. He wasn’t really reading it though; he was hiding from Joy’s six year old, Faith. She was the second youngest of the family, not counting Joy’s third child on the way and at the moment had decided to play a game of hide and seek with him, though at the moment he had a feeling she'd been distracted by one of her cousins.

When his own children were still children, he’d always figured the old farmhouse was full enough with three kids at Christmastime. He’d been proven wrong. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve it, but he was happily blessed with a multitude of grandchildren. Kevin was the oldest at twenty and Gabe was the youngest at four. He loved all of them.

“Gan’pa, can you tell me a stoy?” Gabe crawled up beside him, his green eyes peering at him from under golden locks he’d inherited from his father. Michael folded up the paper and put it down on the end table.

“What story do you want to hear, young man?” he pulled the boy up on to his lap.

“A Chwistmas stoy.” He said eagerly. Michael smiled. Gabe was struggling with his Rs. Joy was trying to make him say them, but Michael didn’t mind. He found the mispronounced, or lack of pronunciation, of Rs endearing.

The tale of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer kept Gabe occupied until the four women of the family called everyone to come and get their food. Sitting everyone around the table was out of the question, so everyone found a seat where they could, although a small children’s table was set up in the table. Melanie, James’ twelve year old, was the oldest at the table keeping an eye on Keith, Becky, Faith and Gabe. Kevin, Lucy and John were the only ones not subjugated to the table.

John was fourteen and refused to do anything with his younger cousins. Whenever he was over, Michael often heard him complain about not having anyone his age . Michael often saw him out in the yard with paper and pencil. He’d once asked what he was writing when he was outside and only received a shrugged response along with, “Stuff.” He’d dropped the topic after that, wondering what was up with kids and their monosyllabic responses.

The conversation had now drifted to James and Joy’s husband, Mark. They were talking about the latest in kitchen appliances. It was a normal conversation between the two whenever they got together, since both were in the retail business. Mark worked with kitchen appliances while James worked with radios and TVs.

Mike pushed himself up off the couch and made his way over to his father. It had been awhile since the two had had a chance to truly talk. Life on his end was always busy with work and family.

“How you been, dad?” he asked as the two stepped out into the wintry air. Mike pulled his arms around him in order to stay warm. It wasn’t a below freezing Christmas, such as the kind that allowed for snow, but it was cold enough. The cold was nice though after being amongst sixteen other people.

“Getting old. Mom told you I retired last month, right?” Mike nodded.

“Yeah, said the yard pushed you out of there.” Michael chuckled

“She’s right. They’ve brought in fresh blood, don’t need us old folks anymore.” Mike laughed. If his father could, he’d work until he died, but he also knew that arthritis was starting to attack his father’s joints, making some days difficult. The shipping yard didn’t want to worry about him locking up while on the job.

The two remained silent for several minutes, watching the stars and listening as nearby neighbors enjoyed their Christmas The place had changed since Michael first moved in with his wife. They still had their two acres of land, but unlike before when neighbors were few and far between, families had started to move in. Kathy enjoyed it, saying she felt like the neighborhood grandma.

After all the excitement Kathy refused to let anyone drive home, worried that someone would fall asleep behind the wheel. The girls slept in Joy’s old room, while the boys took Mike and James’ room. The older siblings fought lightheartedly over who got the guest room. Joy and Mark won on the account she was pregnant. That left the living room to the other couples. No one minded.

It was while they slept when the powdery snow fell, blanketing the earth in white. Everyone was awoken to the sounds of children squealing as their noses were plastered to the window. It was agreed that while breakfast was being made, the children could go outside.

Mike watched as all three of his kids joined their younger cousins in romping through the snow. Kevin helped Gabe and Keith build a fort so they could have a proper snowball fight. John Melanie and Becky took to building their own fort while Faith and Lucy started making snowballs for their respective teams.

The hand on his shoulder caused Mike to turn and look at the aged face of his father.

“This is it.” Mike gave him a look.

“What?” Michael stretched out his hand toward the children.

“This. When they’re happy and free, enjoying life. Little moments like this, this is what you remember.” Mike looked back at the children and a smile graced his features as he agreed with his father’s words of wisdom.
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A multitude of faces stood before him. They talked to him, asked him questions. He didn’t remember them, didn’t remember what they asked. Images of the past were all he knew. They never lasted long, but they always came back.

Sometimes he would ask about her, he’d always get a look before someone gave him an answer. She was always the one he wanted, though sometimes he’d ask about Mike. The boy never visited anymore, he didn’t know why. Someone always gave him an answer though, he never remembered. Age had gotten to him, the disease had taken over his brain only allowing small flickers of memory. He never forgot her though, his one true love.
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March 6, 2009 brought the death of Michael Dylan Jenkens, one month after his hundredth birthday. He was laid to rest beside his wife and son. Kathy had died of a stroke at 88, Mike when he was 73, a heart attack had taken him. The funeral was intimate, with family only. Rain poured down as they walked to the graveside and the preacher spoke a few words. Some listened some mourned. Those who had been closest to him, clung tight to loved ones, seeking the comfort they needed. Michael had lived a full life, full of love and happiness, it wasn’t without it’s hardships though, but the family knew that those hardships had made him the man he was. They would deeply miss him.